For those struggling (and there are seemingly many), he has cited the maximum theoretical sentence for damaging a statue, and compared it to a figure plucked out of the air, but significantly below the average sentence imposed, for rape.
Intellectually dishonest.
You can make the point that increasing the maximum sentence for low-value damage of statues to 10 years is idiotic, populist guff.
You can make the point that the criminal justice system fails to tackle sexual violence (for many reasons).
But that tweet makes neither point.
And it is disheartening beyond measure to see the Opposition descend into a populist arms race on “tough sentencing”, when they know - they *know* - that the problems in criminal justice are so, so much more than that.
Any politician of any party who claims that the answer to tackling violence against women is simply a matter of “tougher sentences” is not being honest with the public.
Let me tell you about a case I’m currently prosecuting. [THREAD]
The case involves allegations of serious domestic violence and coercive/controlling behaviour. The offences go back to 2016. They were reported in 2017. This is not unusual in cases of domestic abuse - often victims delay reporting out of fear.
It then took eighteen months for the police to investigate.
Eighteen months.
Why? Partly because this case, like many of its type, relied on mobile phone evidence. Texts to show the defendant’s behaviour, or to prove contemporaneous complaint by the complainant to her friends.
There’s understandably a lot of concern over this case given the reported facts. As ever, full details are unacceptably thin on the ground, but taking this report at face value, there are serious questions over the sentence. [THREAD]
This is the description of the offence. It was charged as sexual assault (section 3 Sexual Offences Act 2003), which carries a maximum of 10 years.
And here is the Sentencing Guideline:
On the reported facts, this was a violent sexual assault in the street. Category 1 harm.
He followed her for at least a minute before attacking her. I struggle to see how this is “opportunistic”. There was clearly some planning, although perhaps not a “significant degree”.
There’s an intriguing overlap on here between those complaining that lockdown restrictions on liberty are a barbaric assault on human rights and those who in ordinary times insist that being locked in a 4.5m sq prison cell for 23 hours a day is a “holiday camp”.
“THEY HAVE TVs IN THEIR 4.5 METRE SQUARED BOXES IN WHICH THEY DEFECATE IN FRONT OF VIOLENT STRANGERS, HOW IS THAT ANY SORT OF PUNISHMENT?” etc etc.
Maybe - just maybe - the punitive effect of loss of liberty *in itself* might be a little more widely understood once we emerge from all of this.
Huge delays in criminal justice, caused *not* by Covid but by government cuts, mean that courts are forced to deal with offenders - including serious assaults - more leniently.
And less of this #FakeLaw please. Covid has not been around for 18 months. The delays in criminal justice have been around for years, and we’re getting worse long before Covid.
Don’t let them lie to you.
For those asking why delay means more lenient sentences, it is set out in the Sentencing Guidelines as a mitigating feature. It should incentivise a “tough on crime” government to properly resource the system to reduce delays.
Barristers are not our cases. We do not choose our clients because we believe in their cause. If we receive instructions to represent in legal proceedings, we are ethically obliged to act.
It is the same misunderstanding that causes the Home Secretary to attack “activist lawyers” for representing people in immigration cases; the Prime Minister to deride criminal barristers as “lefty do-gooders”.
We take the cases we are given. That way nobody goes unrepresented.
Barristers have a duty not to refuse a case because of its objectionable nature or conduct/beliefs of the client.
If we refused to act for unpopular clients because of public or political pressure, it would be professional misconduct and the rule of law would quickly crumble.
As readers of my books will know, I’m a jury sceptic. I think it’s probably the best system we have, but I believe it is unduly opaque and capable of improvement. I’m not ideologically fervent about a jury of twelve.
But.
We should not be uprooting fundaments of the justice system without careful research into the impact.
For instance.
David Lammy’s 2017 review identified jury trial as “one stage in the criminal justice system where B[A]ME groups do not face persistent disproportionality.”