Thoughts from the criminology team

Home » Police

Category Archives: Police

What’s the Capitol of Insurrection? #BlackenAsiaWithLove

A week ago, I was writing -hopefully – about the peaceful transition of power. I was thinking to myself that even if Georgia’s run-off election didn’t release the American senate from the hooves and cleaves of the CONservative right, that somehow, the world would be in a better state now that dialogue-oriented ‘liberals’ were leading the administrative cabinet. This week, however, I am writing about a failed coup d’etat in the United States. 

Lynch mob

Much of American history is steeped in the struggle for freedom. To be clear: WE have never, ever been free in America. None of us. Sure, relative to where I sit right now in S.E. Asia, the fact that I am talking openly about politics, and speaking ill of other people’s nasty votes, attests to this relative freedom I enjoy just by having that bald eagle on my passport. The fact that it’s a national pass-time to be critical of power, all the while coveting it for myself, points to the hypocrisy with which each and every American struggles internally. It’s not that people of other nations don’t share this struggle, but it’s just that we Americans do this in the world’s richest, most ethnically diverse nation. And ‘the problem we all live with’ persists. 

By signing the Emancipation Proclamation, Lincoln didn’t defeat white supremacy any more than the Declaration of Independence defeated tyranny and injustice. “With great power comes great responsibility,” goes the Spiderman mantra. Yet, here I am on my knees, in tears, crying for the death a of a democracy that’s been in decay ever since my people were brought to those shores in shackles, owned by those mentally enslaved by white-washed Jesus.

Unfortunately, it would be facile and naïve to pretend that this American moment isn’t painful. It hurt me, personally, to see the siege of our Capitol, live and in technicolor, more vivid than any dream I’ve dreamt or nightmare about this very scenario. And I have had both dreams and nightmares about the siege. My mother’s parents grew up southern, Black, poor and politically disenfranchised as a matter of everyday practice under Jim and Jane Crow. It’d would have been nothing for a lynch mob to tackle any negro attempting to vote. That was business as usual, even as they conscripted my grandfather into the army to go to Europe and fight Hitler. The irony has never, ever been lost on any of us. 

Many days, in my daydreams, I’ve often wondered what it’d be like if a bunch of freedom-loving folks just stormed the Capitol and occupied the seats of power until the elected leaders conceded to formally grant our freedom. Yet, I would never want to see the mass graves they’d have to dig should any negro or negro-loving white person even gather to talk about storming the Capitol – let alone share plans and munitions. Besides, I am an earnest follower of non-violence and genuinely believe liberation is found therein. Instead, we’ve spent years – decades, nearly a century of recorded history – warning the world where white supremacy would lead us, if left unchecked. I’d be as rich as Jeff Bezos if I had a nickel for every time someone told me that racism was dead, and that I was dredging up hate by insisting we speak about it. Yet, here we are. Whatcha gonna do now?

A homemade shrine in Hoi An, Vietnam.

My new year nightmare: finance, political imperatives and a lack of strategy

“Pregnant and homeless” by Ed Yourdon is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0; “Cash” by BlatantWorld.com is licensed under CC BY 2.0

The new year is here.  At its last knockings, the previous year offered hope of some sort of return to normality.  The second new vaccine was on its way, far easier to store and distribute, it offered hope. Unfortunately, the joy of the new year has been somewhat muted as we have witnessed Covid-19 cases rise to new heights. Talks of stricter measures have turned into our new reality, as one minute the government insisted on schools opening then the next a partial U-turn before a forced full-scale retreat. But as we watch all of this unfold, I am reminded of a comment I heard from a radio presenter on the lead up to Christmas. Her view was that there was much to be happy about, we know more about the virus now than we ever did and scientists have developed a vaccine, several vaccines, in record time.  Over the Christmas and new year period I reflected on last year and tried to think about what we have learnt. 

Brexit has just proved to be a complete farce.  Promises of a good deal turn out to be not so good, ‘no deal is better than a bad deal’ the politicians said.  And then in desperation, realising that any deal was better than no deal and that the best deal was the one where we were in the European Union they settled on something and thanked the gods that there was far more pressing bad news to hide their incompetence.  So, we are now a ‘sovereign’ nation but poorer to boot and whilst we think we have regained control over our borders, it is only limited to bureaucratic, time consuming form filling, as we beg people to come here to work in our care homes and on the farms for a pittance.  Perhaps the refugees that we have reluctantly accepted might help us out here. Brexit has been delivered but at what cost?  No wonder Stanley wants to take up his opportunity for a French passport.

We are all equal its just that some are far more equal than others. We saw the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement and I have a feeling that I wouldn’t be able to do that discussion justice; I’ll leave that to others that are far more capable. It did have a profound impact on me though as a former serving police officer, I would like to think it had an impact on others both retired and serving, but I’m not so sure.  I think that quite often the police are simply a reflection of our society and I’m not willing to bet much on that changing rapidly.  I remember Michael Holding, a former West Indian cricketer, turned commentator, talking about ‘white privilege’ and he provided what I thought at the time was a good example. Now I’m not so sure, this so called ‘white privilege’, isn’t privilege at all, it’s rights. It’s the rights that white people avail themselves of everyday in a democratic society (well that’s what we are supposed to be in anyway) without a second thought.  The problem isn’t that white people have those rights, it’s that Black and ethnic minority individuals don’t, or where they do, the rights are somehow conditional.  I might be wrong in my thinking, but I know one thing, without some very clear leadership from government, institutions and general societal attitudes are unlikely to change sufficiently.  Although footballers and staff take a knee before every match, I fear that the momentum is likely to be lost.  By the way, I’m not holding out much hope on the leadership gambit.

Sticking to the we are all equal theme; the pandemic has shone a spotlight on poverty in this country.  Yes, Mr high and mighty Reece-Mogg, there really are very poor people in this country and they do need a helping hand. The fact that food banks are even required is shameful. The fact that foodbanks rely on charity is an even more shameful indictment of our government. The fact that a senior politician can stand up in the house of commons and accuse a charity of political motives when distributing aid beggar’s belief.  I find it extraordinary that pre pandemic, homeless people were left to their own devices on the streets, reliant on charity and handouts and yet as soon as we went into lockdown, the government found money from somewhere to house them.  What changed? My worry is that when the pandemic is over, the government are going to be more concerned about balancing the books than they are about the pervasive poverty endemic in our nation.

Children returning to school has been a huge issue for government and they rely on evidence that suggests that the best place for children is at school. A headmaster reminded us in an interview on the radio that this ‘online learning’ phrase that trips off the tongue is far easier to talk about than to achieve. What hits home is the huge disparity in opportunity for children to avail themselves of online learning. Poorer families cannot provide the technology required. Poorer families are likely to live in cramped conditions making it impossible for children to concentrate on work as siblings run around trying to keep themselves amused. And let’s not forget the plight of the parents who are more likely to be in jobs that require them to be at work, not home. Then of course there are those children that are vulnerable where school is a safe haven from abuse, whether that’s physical or mental or simply because school is where they will be fed. So, in a sense for many, school is a better place than home, but we really ought to be asking why that is. What does that say about our society? If I were to hazard an educated guess, I’d say its broken. The return of children to school had wider implications. What about the teachers and staff? It seems to me that government have different standards of risk depending on what suits. I’ll come back to this in time but I think the closure of schools owes itself more to the action of teachers in their refusal to turn up to work in an unsafe environment than it does any sensible government strategy.

Sticking to the education theme, the pandemic shone a rather harsh spotlight on higher education too. What became increasingly obvious was that the return of students to campus was purely financially driven.  At least one vice chancellor put his head above the parapet and stated as much.  His university would fail if he did not fill the halls of residence. So here we had a situation where scientific advisors were stating it was folly to open universities and yet universities did so with the backing of government. The reason, we can’t put education on hold and yet how many students take a gap year, before going to university? Putting education on hold doesn’t appear to be that damaging to the individual, but it is very damaging to a morally corrupt educational business model that needs halls of residence to be filled to prop up the system. To make matters worse, students flocked to university only to find that face to face teaching was patchy, the university experience was not what they were promised or envisaged it would be, and more time was spent in isolation and lock down than was healthy.  If education was supposed to be good for their mental health, it had the opposite effect for many.  I don’t think it required a rocket scientist to work out that online teaching was really going to be a default position, so either management and government were very naïve and reckless, or they were somewhat economical with the truth.   Time to revisit higher education, I think.

Talking about government advisors, what’s the point in having them? Everything I read suggests that government advisors say one thing and government does something else or dillies and dallies its way into a dead end where it finally admits the advisors are in some way right, hence another eleventh hour lock down. The advisor’s said universities should not go back, they did and is it coincidence it coincided with a rise in Covid-19 cases? Advisors were saying schools shouldn’t go back but the government insisted they should and many did for just one day.  There is a saying about tactics and strategy. Strategy is unlikely to be achieved without tactics but tactics without a strategy are useless. I have yet to understand what the government strategy is, there is however a plethora of disparate (or is that desperate?) tactics . The result though, anguish and suffering to more than is necessary.  Some of the tactics seem to be based on decision regarding who is most at risk.  We hear that term an awful lot.  I watched the prime minister at lunch time, the man who promised us a fantastic Brexit deal, as he explained how important it was that children went back to school.  Children are at very little risk going to school he said and then added, and teachers are not at very much risk or at least at no more risk than they would be normally.  He bumbled and blustered over the latter part; I wonder why?  A few hours later he told us schools would be closed until at least the 15th February. What happened to ‘no risk’? When we talk about risk, there are a number of ways of viewing it.   There is the risk of death, easily understood and most definitely to be avoided, but what seems to be neglected is the risk of serious illness or the risk of ‘long Covid’.  By ordering schools to be opened or that universities resume face to face teaching, the policy seems to have been that as long as you are not at a high risk of death then it is an acceptable risk.  Time for a bit of honesty here.  Does the government and do managers in these organisations really think that a group of people in a room for a number of hours with inadequate ventilation is not a serious risk to the spreading of the disease? Maybe some of the managers could reassure us by doing most of the face to face teaching when we prematurely come out of lock down again.

It seems to me that much is being made, on the news in particular, about the effect a lock down has on mental health, especially children. And I do understand the mental health issues, I can’t help but think though that whilst this is a very valid argument there is the elephant in the room that is either ignored or conveniently understated. The elephant; the fear engendered by the virus, the fear and anguish of those that have had to face the loss of a loved one. Just to put that in perspective that’s over 70,000 people whose families and friends have had to go through firstly the fear and anxiety of a loved one being ill and then the additional fear and anxiety of having lost them. Add to this the fear and anxiety of those that have caught the virus and ended up in hospital coupled with the fear and anxiety of their loved ones. Now add to this the fear and anxiety of those who have to work in conditions where they are at serious risk of catching Covid and the fear and anxiety of their loved ones. And then of course there is the fear and anxiety caused to the general population as the virus spins out of control. Somehow I think a little perspective on mental health during lock down might be needed. Is it any wonder teachers decided that what they were being asked to do was unsafe and unnecessary?

And then I think about all of those parties and gatherings despite restrictions. The shopping trips from tier 4 areas into tier two areas to snap up bargains in the sales. The Christmas and New years eve parties that defy any logic other than pure self-indulgence. Just as we see all of those selfless people that work in organisations that care for others or keep the country running in some capacity, we see a significant number of selfish people who really don’t care about the harm they are causing and seem to be driven by hedonism and a lack of social values. Unfortunately, that accusation can also be aimed at some of the very people that should be setting an example, politicians.

We should of course be happy and full of hope. We have a new vaccine (that’s providing it still works on the mutated virus) and normality is around the corner, give or take a few months and a half decent vaccination strategy (that’s us done for).  A vaccine that was found in an extraordinary time period.  I wonder why a vaccine for Ebola wasn’t found so quickly?  I agree with my colleague @paulaabowles when she says we all must do better but more importantly I think its about time we held government to account, they really must do better.  After the second world war this country saw the birth of the NHS and the welfare state. What we need now is a return to the fundamental values that prompted the birth of those provisions. There are so many pressing needs and we really mustn’t allow them to be forgotten.  A strategy to tackle poverty might just ameliorate a raft of other ills in our society and the cost of tackling it might easily be mitigated by a reduction in demand in the NHS and many other public services.  I can but dream, but my reality envisages a nightmare world driven by finance, political imperatives and a lack of strategy.

Reality and the fairy tale world of policy and procedures

https://pixabay.com/photos/once-upon-a-time-writer-author-719174/

In the concept of managerialism, we see that both policy and procedures form part of the techniques employed to enhance productivity and cultural changes. These changes use a ‘calculative and rationalistic knowledge base’ which appears both ‘universalistic’, and [at first sight] ‘seems entirely good sense’ (Gilling, 2014:82).

However, this knowledge base is far from universalistic and to the ‘street level bureaucrat’ (Lipsky, 1980) often falls little short of complete naivety.  Lipsky (2010) provides a valuable insight into how individuals in public service adapt unworkable policies and procedures as the idealistic meets the reality of overstretched resources and ever demanding and needy consumers of services.

Whilst both working in and studying the police as an organisation subjected to and adopting managerialist policies, I witnessed the nonsensical notions of measuring activities and the subjugation of professionalism to management ideals (Hallam, 2009).  Perhaps, there could be no better example than the measurement of the length of time a call handler spent dealing with a call. This derived from the need to answer calls within a target time period. It all made sense until you begin to take into account reality – the lack of resources and the nature of calls which demanded that on some occasions operators ought to spend far longer on the phone to deal with more protracted matters, such as someone in crises who really needed help and a comforting voice whilst someone was on their way.  The result of the measurements was often counterproductive, officers being sent to incidents that amounted to little more than a waste of time, ‘My Jimmy is missing and I haven’t seen him for three days’ – when the officers turn up, Jimmy turns out to be a cat or, officers being sent to locations where information regarding the incident is scant because little time has been spent on the phone to get sufficient details.  In the clinical world of the policy maker, there are ideal call takers, those that have knowledge about every eventuality, and ideal call makers, those that are precise, unemotional and to the point.  Nothing of course could be further from reality.

Disappointingly, I find little solace in academia.  Policy and procedures abound. Teaching styles are based, not on the nuances of student types but on the ideal student.  The student that has the requisite skills to read and write and think critically. The student that is always engaged and always turns up and above all else, teaching is based on idealistic (see Morse and Lewis for tutorial sizes) small student classes.  Policies that are well meaning such as catering for additional needs, become unworkable in an environment where class sizes and teaching demands outstrip available resources.  Like the call handler, for the lecturer, it becomes impossible to cater for those that need more attention and time. And like the call handler, lecturers are subjected to managerialist idealistic measurements of success and failure.  I once heard of a manager that referred to academics as ‘slackademics’, I think is probably just an indication of how far removed from reality managers are. There are two worlds in organisations that provide a service to the public, one is based on reality the other, a fairy tale world of policies and procedures based on the ideal.

References

Gilling, D. (2014) Reforming police governance in England and Wales: managerialisation and the politics of organisational regime Change, Policing and Society, 24 (1): 81-101.

Lipsky, M. (2010) Street-Level Bureaucracy: Dilemmas of the Individual in Public Services. New York: Russell Sage Foundation.

Misfortune and the Blame Game

Photo by Danita Delimont available at https://dissolve.com/stock-photo/Thousands-king-penguins-are-packed-together-second-royalty-free-image/101-D256-26-913

It seems to be a peculiar past-time in this country to moan and find fault with everything and blame anyone but ourselves for our mishaps and misfortune. 

I was watching a television programme last night about Britain’s bizarre weather conditions in 2020 and what struck me, actually you could have slapped me round the face with a wet kipper, was the behaviour of people in the heatwave of April 2020.  An extraordinary heatwave saw people flocking to parks and to the beach.  Some scenes looked more akin to those pictures we see of seals or penguins on a remote island where there isn’t an inch to move without stumbling over the next incumbent, all staking their claim to a little parcel of land on which they can sunbathe or nest.  ‘Weren’t we supposed to be social distancing and in lockdown’? Of course, we blame the government for lockdown 2 and the tier system.  How unfair it is that we can’t see our loved ones, oh the mental anguish when we miss school, or have to learn online or get made redundant or our business goes belly up.  But flock to the seaside we must, go to the park and mingle is a necessity, rush to the pub and drink and make merry, have parties and raves and forget about social distancing and that awful thing that the government keeps wittering on about.  Let’s blame the police for dishing out fines, its so unfair and let’s even blame the hospitals, that’s where my loved one caught Corona virus.  Yes, the government were to blame for suggesting that we should ‘eat out to help out’, but did we really think it was suddenly fine to plunder food from every outlet that provided a cut-price meal? Like lemmings, people rushed to pack out restaurants and pubs in search of a culinary bargain and many got more than they bargained for. ‘Two for the price of one’ had a new meaning.

None of this of course is a new phenomenon; the virus might be, the behaviour is not.  We speed along the road and when caught by the police ask them if they haven’t got anything better to do than stop us.  We complain about the NHS but carry on drinking lots, eating rubbish and failing to exercise.  Our illness in the morning is due to the bad kebab, not the large amount of alcohol we consumed.  We moan about our rubbish grades, somehow expecting that the parties, the staying in bed all day, the failure to attend, the work commitments and all the other hubris will get us an A grade or at least a B.  It’s the way the lecturers teach, not our lack of commitment, that’s the problem here, ‘oh and I’m paying for this rubbish’.  In football, we blame the referee for not giving a foul or for giving a foul when we are convinced it wasn’t one and yet watch players carry on diving all over the place rolling around as if they’ve been scythed down by the grim reaper and then chewed up by Jaws before being magically revived by the miraculous sponge.  More at home with an Equity Card, players constantly seek to bamboozle the referee, it’s no wonder they sometimes get it wrong.  We moan about the stampede at the start of the shop sales, not that that’s been a problem this year, well not yet anyway, but we are part of the stampede, shoving and trampling over others to get to the much reduced bargain.  We lament the demise of the high street, watching the tumbleweed blow past as we scuttle away to our laptops, pads and phones to do a bit more online shopping only rushing out in droves (social distancing ignored) to take advantage of the demise of yet another retail outlet.

Whilst ministers are trying to hammer out a Brexit deal, posturing and moaning about the intransigence of the other side, they probably secretly hope that there will be no deal.  That way we can blame the Europeans and the Europeans can blame us. But are we not to blame for this monstrosity; we voted for it?  We live in a democracy and are rightly proud of it and yet Trump like we are quick to point out that we personally didn’t vote for that bit that we don’t like, and the vote was probably rigged anyway.  Having realised our error, we still voted in the government that said it would get it done and we didn’t care about the price.  Let’s hope that a return to the troubles in Ireland doesn’t become a reality, but if it does, it’ll no doubt be the fault of the Irish. Our sense of history only stretches back to when we saved the world from the Nazis.

We need to look to ourselves and our own action and behaviour before we start blaming everyone and everything around us.  Yes, misfortune does fall on some of us and sometimes it isn’t our fault but like it or not, many of the problems are caused by us and we compound the problems by blaming others.  If we fail to grip the notion that we have responsibility, then history will judge us as a nation that moaned about everything and did nothing but cause calamitous problems for ourselves and the rest of the world.

Yorkshire Ripper: Not an Obituary

Photo by Dhivakaran S on Pexels.com

Wilma McCann, 28

Emily Jackson, 42

Irene Richardson, 28

Patricia Atkinson, 32

Jayne MacDonald, 16

Jean Jordan, 21

Yvonne Pearson, 22

Helen Rytka, 18

Vera Millward, 40

Josephine Whitaker, 19

Barbara Leach, 20

Marguerite Walls, 47

Jacqueline Hill, 20

As the team northerner I took it upon myself to write about Peter Sutcliffe after hearing of his death. Sutcliffe was a serial killer who operated in West Yorkshire and the North West of England. He was convicted of murdering 13 women and attempting to kill 7 more in the 1970s, and was serving 20 life sentences for his crimes.

Ironically, the ripper was killed by covid-19, the deadliest killer of 2020 (incidentally I asked students to imagine covid-19 being a serial killer in a lecture yesterday). Reports suggest that he was in ill health prior to contracting the coronavirus, was obese and had diabetes. He died 2 days after his diagnosis after refusing treatment.

When I started writing about the Yorkshire Ripper, I couldn’t help but think about his victims. Those he killed (named above – remember them), those he harmed and who survived, the relatives of both and the women in the areas in which he would prey on his victims, who feared leaving their homes every day for half a decade. These are the people I am thinking about, those who are in my thoughts. How do they feel about the news of his death? How have they felt every time they have heard his name for the last few decades? How, 40+ years later, are the living victims coping?

I didn’t know a lot about Peter Sutcliffe. It was before my time so when I read about the secondary victimisation as a result of police and the prosecution blaming the victims it made me angry. Peter Sutcliffe would prey on women, often prostitutes. The police at the time differentiated between the victims who were sex workers and the victims who weren’t and referred to those that weren’t as ‘innocent victims’, insinuating that the sex workers were not entirely blameless and may have precipitated their fate. Thankfully, West Yorkshire Police have issued a statement to apologise for the language and tone used at the time but the damage has already done.

I’d like to say society has learned from its mistakes, but sadly I don’t think we have. There is still evidence of victim blaming, particularly in cases of femicide and rape. Think of the Grace Millane murder and the protests in Ireland after a barrister suggest the jury consider the victim’s underwear, questioning consent. I hope one day we, as a society, learn. I hope the victims of Peter Sutcliffe get some sort of relief from both his passing and the apology from West Yorkshire Police.

The power of the written word: fact, fiction and reality

“‘LONG LIVE FREEDOM OF SPEECH'” by Newtown grafitti is licensed under CC BY 2.0

The written word is so powerful, crucial to our understanding and yet so easily abused.  So often what gets written is unregulated, even when written in the newspapers.  Whilst the press is supposedly regulated independently, we have to question how much regulation actually occurs. Freedom of the press is extremely important, so is free speech but I do wonder where we draw the line. Is freedom of speech more important than regulating damaging vitriolic hyperbole and rhetoric? Is freedom of speech more important than truth?

We only have to read some of the sensationalist headlines in some newspapers to realise that the truth is less important than the story.  What we read in papers is about what sells not about reality. The stories probably tell us more about the writer and the editor than anything else. We more often than not know nothing about the circumstances or individuals that are being written about. Stories are told from the viewpoint of others that purport to be there, or are an ‘expert’ in a particular field. The stories are just that, stories, they may represent one person’s reality but not another’s. Juicy parts are highlighted, the dull and boring downplayed.  Whilst this can be aimed at newspapers, can the same not be said about other forms of media?

A few weeks ago, I was paging through LinkedIn on my phone catching up with the updates I had missed. Why I have LinkedIn I don’t really know.  I think its because a long time ago when I was about to go job hunting someone told me it was a good idea. Anyway, I digress, what caught my eye was a number of people congratulating Rachel Swann on becoming the next Chief Constable of Derbyshire.  I recognised her from the news, remember the story when the dam was about to burst?

It wasn’t the fact that she’d been promoted that caught my eye, it was the fact that someone had written that she should ignore the trolls on Twitter. I had a quick look to see what they were on about. To say they were vitriolic is an understatement. But all of the comments based her ability to do the job on her looks and her sexuality.  I thought to myself at the time, how do you get away with this? I doubt that any of those people that wrote those comments have any idea about her capabilities. Unkind, rude and I dare say hurtful comments, made that are totally unregulated. The comments say more about the writers than they do about Rachel Swann. You don’t get to the position of Assistant Chief Constable let alone Chief Constable without having displayed extraordinary qualities.

And then I think about Twitter and the nonsense that people are allowed to write on this medium. President Trump is a prime example.  There isn’t a day that goes by without him writing some vitriolic nonsense about someone or some nation.  Barack Obama used to be in his sights and now it’s Joe Biden. I know nothing about any of them, but if I follow the Trump twit feed, they are incompetent fools and disaster looms if Biden is elected as president.  As I said before, sometimes what is written says more about the writer than anyone else.

I’m conscious that I’m writing this for a blog and many that read it don’t know me.  Blogs are no different to other media outlets.  If I am to criticise others for what they have written, then I ought to be careful about what I write and how.  I have strong views and passionately believe in free speech, but I do not believe that the privilege I have been given allows me to be hurtful to others. My views are my views and sometimes I think readers get a little glimpse of the real me, the chances are they have a better idea about me than what I am writing about.  I write with a purpose and often from the heart, but I try not to be unkind nor stretch the truth or tell outright lies. I value my credibility and if I believe that people know more about me than the story, I owe it to myself to try to be true to my values. I just wish sometimes that when people write for the newspapers, post comments on Twitter or write blogs that they thought about what they are writing and indulged in a bit of self-reflection. Maybe they don’t because they wont like what they see.

What price justice?

Photo by Pawel Janiak on Unsplash

Having read a colleague’s blog Is justice fair?, I turned my mind to recent media coverage regarding the prosecution rates for rape in England and Wales.  Just as a reminder, the coverage concerned the fact that the number of prosecutions is at an all-time low with a fall of 932 or 30.75% with the number of convictions having fallen by 25%.  This is coupled with a falling number of cases charged when compared with the year 2015/16.  The Victims’ Commissioner Dame Vera Baird somewhat ironically, was incensed by these figures and urged the Crown Prosecution Service to change its policy immediately. 

I’m always sceptical about the use of statistics, they are just simple facts, manipulated in some way or another to tell a story.  Useful to the media and politicians alike they rarely give us an explanation of underlying causes and issues. Dame Vera places the blame squarely on the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) and its policy of only pursuing cases that are likely to succeed in court. Now this is the ironic part, as a former Labour member of parliament, a minister and Solicitor General for England and Wales, she would have been party to and indeed helped formalise and set CPS policy and guidelines.  The former Labour Government’s propensity to introduce targets and performance indicators for the public services knew no bounds. If its predecessors, the Conservatives were instrumental in introducing and promulgating these management ideals, the Labour government took them to greater heights.  Why would we be surprised then that the CPS continue in such a vein?  Of course, add in another dimension, that of drastic budget cuts to public services since 2010, the judicial system included, and the pursuit of rationalisation of cases looks even more understandable and if we are less emotional and more clinical about it, absolutely sensible.

My first crown court case involved the theft of a two-bar electric fire. A landlady reported that a previous tenant had, when he moved out, taken the fire with him.  As a young probationary constable in 1983, I tracked down the culprit, arrested him and duly charged him with the offence of theft.  Some months later I found myself giving evidence at crown court.  As was his right at the time, the defendant had elected trial by jury.  The judicial system has moved a long way since then.  Trial by jury is no longer allowed for such minor offences and of course the police no longer have much say in who is prosecuted and who isn’t certainly when comes to crown court cases.  Many of the provisions that were in place at the time protected the rights of defendants and many of these have been diminished, for the most part, in pursuit of the ‘evil three Es’; economy, effectiveness and efficiency.  Whilst the rights of defendants have been diminished, so too somewhat unnoticed, have the rights of victims.  The lack of prosecution of rape cases is not a phenomenon that stands alone. Other serious cases are also not pursued or dropped in the name of economy or efficiency or effectiveness. If all the cases were pursued, then the courts would grind to a halt such have been the financial cuts over the years.  Justice is expensive whichever way you look at it.

My colleague is right in questioning the fairness of a system that seems to favour the powerful, but I would add to it.  The pursuit of economy is indicative that the executive is not bothered about justice.  To borrow my colleague’s analogy, they want to show that there is an ice cream but the fact that it is cheap, and nasty is irrelevant.   

Turning a blind eye: when people remain silent to abuse in the name of religion, tradition, and culture

The thought that people in the 21st Century are silent about abuse appears to be an absurd notion. There has been a significant development in how public opinion is increasing the awareness of the role of abuses that occur behind closed doors, and the responsibility of safeguarding to protect the most vulnerable. Case studies of Daniel Pelka, Baby P, and even the institutional abuses at Winterbourne View Hospital are significant signal crimes, having provided public opinion with the chance to progress its understanding of abuse behind closed doors, being able to question concerning behaviours and beliefs, and for this to be reflected within legislation; with abusers even being sentenced and imprisoned.

Abuses behind closed doors

I raise the progression made on abuses that occur behind closed doors; there is still far to go, however, institutional abuses that occur literally in front of these doors are still an issue in society today.

The power imbalance of the state and police department in recognising their responsibility for the murder of George Floyd is one of many examples of this; the image of the local authority leaning on his neck, with him pleading for his mother and his life, is an image that can never be forgotten. The issues of institutional racism can be traced back decades, with the MacPherson Report highlighting these issues following the murder of Stephen Lawrence in 1993, but how far has society come to know about crimes committed within the family and community, to preserve the honour of religion, culture, and tradition? Deciding to leave one’s religious faith, has the potential to cause disruptions to the ideological framework of the family and community.

This decision appears to increase the level of threat the family and community may feel towards the individual as a result, with an increased likelihood of creating an environment of abuse to foster physical and psychological abuse. Being able to challenge such abuse, which occurs under the veil of religion, tradition, and culture, appears to be difficult. This might be due to how this type of abuse is maintained under collusion and coercive control within the family and community – with maintaining izzat (honour) being deemed the highest priority, instead of maintaining the dignity of the human being. His article aims to reflect upon the notion that apostatic-abuse occurs both in private and public worldwide due to the influences of power involved with this issue.

The definition of “apostate”

An apostate is a term used to describe people who once identified as religious, or with faith, or belief in God, or gods, and now identifies as non-religious. The transition of apostasy is difficult for the individual for a number of reasons, and the example of the Lion King is usually apt in explaining this issue (spoilers follow):

The moment where Mufasa dies, Simba (Mufasa’s son) is blamed for this and is shunned to leave the family home by his uncle Scar, and Scar further directs his hyena-followers to kill Simba. Simba evades the attack and travels across the desert alone and isolated for a considerable amount of time, where he eventually collapses.

The journey of Simba during this moment is similar to the journey of the apostate. The thought that a person can have a different opinion to that of the household can be divisive. For example, public opinion was ideologically divided in the United Kingdom over the recent decision to either remain in or leave the European Union. Having ideological differences on this topic, ruptured the cohesion within society, where family members even stopped talking to each other based on the ideological decision made. These political and ideological differences were used as a rationale by the murderer who sided with leaving the European Union, of Labour MP Jo Cox who sided with remaining in the European Union.

Apostates and their families

Sadly, the act of apostasy, where family members have ideological differences, can cause a similar threat reaction by families and communities towards their family member. When family members are strongly dedicated to the conviction of their ideology, faith, and/or scripture, the assertion of shunning the individual, using violence, and even threatening and causing death can be viable options to maintain the honour of their family home and community, is saddening. This conviction further facilitates an abusive environment to develop within the family and community, with family members silently accepting the abuse as a consequence for holding ideological differences. The reaction of the family members increases the likelihood of the person being isolated and shunned, which further creates an environment suitable for abuse to occur, and in similarity to Simba’s journey, this increases the likelihood of the apostate being left to survive on their own without support from the family that once supported them. The differences in thought and ideology create the dynamic of the family belonging to the in-group, and the apostate being identified in the out-group. This also appears to dehumanise the apostate, labelling them as a traitor to the values held dear by the family and community, thus perceiving abuse as an appropriate and acceptable punishment. The power held against the individual by the family and community increases the likelihood of secrecy and silence towards the harm that may be caused.

Abuses against apostates

The concern currently relates to how society appears to struggle with challenging ideas and beliefs, with origins based in religion, tradition, and culture. Regardless of its origin, however, abuse cannot be tolerated. Abuse is usually about a structural and personal power imbalance. The abuser uses that power as leverage to get the individual to do things, they do not want to do. One can appreciate that abuse of any kind, such as physical, psychological, neglect, and domestic violence, are all means to impede on the life of an individual. The cause for concern grows immensely when family members engage in acts of abuse against their own, and in cases within familial communities where the notion of abuse is hidden. Case studies from the past, such as Victoria Climbie, Shafilea Ahmed, and Surjit and Sarbjit Athwal, provide a rare insight into the damaging consequences of abuse within the family home. Some of the conditions that are similar between these case studies are that families maintained secrecy and a sense of order within the home to ensure the abuse remained hidden. The interesting similarity in these cases is how religion, culture, and/or tradition are used to rationalise the abuse – to maintain the notion of izzat; honour, within the family and community. This consequently creates an environment where the notion of honour is prioritised higher than the notion of humanity. Indeed, abuse cannot be tolerated, and for society to not tolerate such abuse, society needs to become comfortable with Maajid Nawaz’s notion that, “no idea is above scrutiny, and no person is below dignity”. What this means is that we can only challenge this type of abuse by becoming more comfortable with calling-out concerning behaviours and beliefs, regardless of their origin, and by adhering to the view of maintaining the dignity of humanity at all costs. Through this perspective, we can limit the number of vulnerable people that may be victims of such abuse, by not being silent to the abuses occurring behind closed doors.

Two key findings of the study

My recent publication, Apostates as a Hidden Population of Abuse Victims (Parekh & Egan, 2020), was the first research study to identify the worldwide abuses that apostates face within religious households. Two significant issues were found whilst completing the research.

Differences between ex-Muslims and ex-Christians

First, Muslim apostates were more likely than Christian apostates to face abuses in the form of assault (being shoved, pushed), serious assault (being hit, physically hurt, threats of death or injury), and psychological abuse (coercive control, stress, fear). The offenders in cases of apostatic-abuse are usually family members and members of their local community, who are acting under the guise of protecting, preserving and honouring their religion, tradition, and culture. Despite the lower number of people identifying as Muslim apostates in the study, they were significantly more likely to face this level of abuse, which questions the volatility towards apostates within some Muslim households across the world, and raises the wider question of how apostates may be perceived within Islam. The religious scriptures within Islam do not favour the apostate well, how else would a marginalised group cope with people who defect? Sadly, this has been integrated within the legislature of twelve nation-states, where the act of apostasy is still punishable by death, and in seven states where this act is punishable with a prison sentence (Humanists International, 2019; Humanists International, 2020). This shows a link between the way in which the religious scriptures are interpreted, actualised, and how religious sanctions are integrated within the criminal justice systems too. The power held by the state to kill its citizens is a concerning criminological issue; one that I would assert the state should not have, however, what appears to also be concerning is that the notion of human intrigue, inquisition, and intuition, are punishable. How can human beings flourish, if the very nature of being human is open to punishment? The recent case of Mubarak Bala in Nigeria is a testament to the concerns of this study. Enacting blasphemy laws appears to be positively supported as a way of preserving religious, traditional, and cultural values and practices, and by doing so, are perceived as favourable within the religious community. Bala’s post which critiqued Islam on social media was interpreted as insulting to Islam within Nigeria. As such, the full force of the religiously informed criminal justice system has been unhinged in its approach to deny Bala of his basic human rights. But, the power held by such traditionalistic interpretations of Islam, raises considerable concerns for people within a nation-state that may think differently. Cultural rules and values, under the guise of “honour,” are systematically embedded by families and communities to prevent individualisation and the demise of traditional cultural norms held by the parental migrant generation, which causes people to live fearfully within an Orwellian dystopia, enforced by the Sword of Damocles.

Apostates are less likely to report abuse to the police

Second, victims were less likely to inform the local authority of the abuses they were facing. Does this beg the question as to why victims are not reporting their abuse to the police? There are several reasons why victims struggle to report their abuse,  and a selection of the reasons are highlighted here. Firstly, does the police truly understand the extent of apostatic-abuse? Secondly, will the police understand the religious, cultural, and traditional significance of this act of abuse? Thirdly, what are the ramifications for the victim within their family and community if they disclose this abuse, and will this cause further retribution? Fourthly, if the victim is under the age of adulthood, will the police take their claim seriously? Fifthly, does the religious community have a sense of power and influence within society that, can be used against the apostate? Sixthly, if the victim is to report the abuse, will they be shunned from the family? Seventhly, can the victim report the abuse, if by identifying as an apostate, they are likely to be punished instead? The study was able to capture the voices of the victims, and the reasons why they struggled to inform the local authority. What becomes concerning is that, despite being abused, victims are still left powerless. The psychological impact of having one’s family member taking part in abuse for having a difference of perspective is open to severely damaging the victim’s perspective of how the world functions, and if law enforcement remains silent too, then this further increases the levels of helplessness felt by the victim. When victims are left in a state of helplessness, this questions the legitimacy of the state in being able to protect its citizens from harm. The rationale of religion, culture, and tradition appear to be sufficient in extending punishment onto the apostate, and for family members, the community, and even police forces to further their assertion that the apostate might deserve the punishment they receive. How dangerous is it then, for a religious person to question deeply held religious views? This is a pertinent issue that fails to be raised – an apostate was once religious. Hence, if a religious person begins to doubt the teachings of their faith, and this is deemed as insulting, then how do religious people remain safe under such draconian infrastructure? If a religious person starts questioning their faith, and this becomes the catalyst for abuse within the home due to notions of dishonour, then how likely is that religious person to continue questioning their beliefs, or raise alarm to the way they are being treated; especially if they are aware that the local authority is less likely to support them? The responsibility for reporting the abuse should not be solely on the shoulders of the abused. The poignant issue here is to highlight the social structures that are involved to inhibit the victim from being aware that they have the power to report the crimes being committed against them.

How to contrast apostatic-abuse?

So, what do we do when dark things and hidden wrongdoings are concealed by social norms? Apostatic-abuse, by its nature, is usually hidden due to the stigma of dishonouring the family and the community, with members maintaining social norms to protect the moral fibre of its community. The consequences of which, can be truly abhorrent for the apostate, where they might have experienced physical and psychological abuse, to being shunned, excommunicated, to even having their life threatened by people who they believed loved them. When abuse can proliferate under secrecy, this increases the difficulties for local authorities to become aware that such victims exist. The example of how activists in the United Kingdom have worked with local authorities to raise awareness of the damaging effects of forced marriage and female genital mutilation to victims and asserting the need to criminalise abusers is a positive step towards legitimising the effect of these crimes towards victims (Council of Europe, 2017; Raptim, 2018). Following a similar model, internationally, would be advocated towards challenging and supporting victims of apostatic-abuse (Metropolitan Police, 2020; NPCC, 2018; Safe Lives, 2017). This model would act as a catalyst to provide training to organisations within criminal justice systems to support their comprehension of this hidden form of abuse. This may also facilitate conversations with members of parliament to further increase support for this abuse being represented within the legislation. This is not an issue within an isolated geographical location, but a worldwide phenomenon. As such, recognition of this form of abuse for organisations that work to support victims would be influential in gaining insight into the effects apostatic-abuse can cause. This form of action, awareness, and support being provided by agencies of criminal justice systems, may reduce the influence of power that abusers may have on victims, as a result of this crime becoming recognised.

Apostatic-abuse is a crime that is maintained through secrecy, social collusion, and coercive control, to maintain power and control over the individual that decides to think differently from their family and community. Sadly, in some nation-states, this perspective has also been criminalised with legislation even advocating for the death of the individual or imprisonment. This remains a crime that is either hidden within families and communities or is carried out by the state, through blasphemy laws, as a form of appeasing the masses to show the integration of religious law to criminal law. When human beings are restricted to how they can think about issues that are pertinent to them, increases the feelings of closure, censure, and control that are not psychologically healthy for the individual. This article, along with the published research, are the first steps to highlight these issues and starting the conversation of how we can help hidden victims around the world.

References

Council of Europe. (2017). Female Genital Mutilation and Forced Marriage. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://rm.coe.int/female-genital-mutilation-and-forced-marriage/16807baf8f.

Humanists International. (2019). The Freedom of Thought Report. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://fot.humanists.international/download-the-report/.

Humanists International. (2020). Humanists at Risk: Action Report 2020. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://humanists.international/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/3098_Humanists-International_Humanists-at-Risk-Action-Report_Amends-V2_LR.pdf.

Parekh, H., & Egan, V. (2020). Apostates as a hidden population of abuse victims. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, DOI: 10.1177/0886260519898428.

Metropolitan Police. (2020). Operation Limelight. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/860625/operation_limelight_instructions.pdf.

National Police Chief’s Council (NPCC). (2018). Honour Based Abuse, Forced Marriage and Female Genital Mutilation: a Policing Strategy for England, Wales & Northern Ireland – Eradicating Honour based Abuse, Force Marriage and Female Genital Mutilation Together. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://www.npcc.police.uk/Publication/Final%20NPCC%20HBA%20strategy%202015%202018December%202015.pdf

Raptim. (2018). 12 NGOs Fighting Against Female Genital Mutilation. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://www.raptim.org/fighting-against-female-genital-mutilation/.

Safe Lives (2017). Your Choice: ‘honour’-based violence, forced marriage and domestic abuse. Accessed on 1st August 2020: https://safelives.org.uk/sites/default/files/resources/Spotlight%20on%20HBV%20and%20forced%20marriage-web.pdf.

“I can’t breathe”: Criminology, Science and Society

Sometimes the mind wanders; the associations it produces are random and odd, but somehow, they connect.  In the book of Genesis, there is reference to the first murder.  Cain murdered Abel with a stone making it the original murder weapon.  After some questioning from God, who acted as an investigating officer, and following a kind-of admission, God then assumed the role of the judge and jury, sentencing him to wander the earth.  This biblical tale is recounted by all three main monotheistic religions, a what to do in the case of murder.  The murderer is morally fallen and criminally dealt by with a swift punishment. 

There is no reason to explore the accuracy of the tale because that is not the point.  Religion, in the absence of science, acted as a moral arbitrator, sentencing council and overall the conscience of society.  In a society without science, the lack of reason allows morality to encroach on personal choices, using superstition as an investigative tool.  As scientific discovery grew, the relevance of religion in investigation was reduced.  The complexity of society required complex institutions that cared for people and their issues.   

When the Normans landed in England, they brought with them a new way of dealing with disputes and conflict. Their system of arbitration, using the King as a divine representative, was following Roman tradition and theology but it soon became apparent that a roaming court may not be as efficient. The creation of the magistrates and the statutes on legal representation introduced the idea of bringing professionals into justice. The creation of new institutions fostered the age of the scholar, who uses evidence-based practice.

This new approach removed more religious practices, instead favouring the examination of facts, the investigation of testimony and the study of law.  It was a long way away from the system we know now as the witch trials can attest to; a number of whom took place in East Anglia (including Northampton).  In the end the only thing that has been left from the early religious trials is the oath witness take when they submit their testimony.* 

The more we learn the better we become in understanding the world around us. The conviction that science can resolve our problems and alleviate social issues was growing and by the 19th century was firm. The age of discovery, industrialisation and new scientific reasoning introduced a new criminal justice system and new institutions (including the police). Scientific reasoning proposed changes in the penal code and social systems. Newly trained professionals, impervious to corruption and nepotism, were created to utilise a new know-how to investigate people and their crimes.

Training became part of skilling new mandarins in a system that reflected social stratification and professionalism. The training based on secular principles became focused on processes and procedures. The philosophy on the training was to provide a baseline of the skills required for any of the jobs in the system. Their focus on neutrality and impartiality, seemed to reflect the need for wider social participation, making systems more democratic. At least in principle that was the main idea. Over centuries of public conflict and social unrest the criminal justice system was moving onto what people considered as inclusive.

Since then the training was incorporated into education, with the new curriculum including some BTECs, diplomas, foundation studies and academic degrees that take on a variety of professions from investigative fields to law enforcement and beyond. This academic skilling, for some was evidence that the system was becoming fairer and their professionals more educated. Police officers with knowledge of the system, akin to lawyers to the probation service and so on. So far so good…but then how do we explain the killing of George Floyd? Four officers trained, skilled, educated and two of them experienced in the job.

If this was a one, two three, four, -offs then the “bad apple” defence seems to be the most logical extrapolation on what went wrong.  If, however this is not the case, if entire communities are frightened of those who allegedly serve and protect them, then there is “something rotten in the state of Denmark”.  Whilst this case is American, it was interesting to read on social media how much it resonated, in communities across the globe of those who felt that this was nothing more than their own everyday experience with law enforcement.  For them, police is merely a mechanism of repression. 

Since the murder I have read a number of analyses on the matter and maybe it worth going a bit further than them. In one of them the author questioned the validity of education, given than two of the officers in the Floyd case hold a criminal justice and a sociology degree respectively. There is a vein of truth there; educators have some responsibility to forge and promote professional conduct and ethical practice among their alumnus. There are however some other issues that have not been considered and it is time for these to be brought to the surface.

Education or training alone is not adequate to address the complexities of our society. Social awareness, cultural acceptance and the opportunity to reflect on the rules using problem solving and insight are equally important. Foucault has long argued that the justice system is inherently unfair because it preserves privileges and blocks anyone outside from challenging it. Reflecting on that, all major constitutional changes took place after a revolution or a war, indicating the truism in his observation.

If we are to continue to train people on procedures and processes the “bad apples” are likely to strike again. The complexity of social situations requires an education that ought to be more rounded, critical and evaluative. If a doctor takes an oath to do no harm, then so should every other professional who works in their community. If the title of the office is more appealing than the servitude, then the officer is not fulfilling their role. If we do not recognise equality among all people, then no training will allow us to be fair. Suddenly it becomes quite clear; we need more education than less, we need knowledge instead of information and we need more criminology for those who wish to serve the system.

*Even that can now be given as an affirmation

For the Trayvons, Since Blackface is a weapon #BlackenAsiaWithLove

2 April 2012 Hanoi

 

The real Blackface that’s the weapon is the minstrel show,
The Blackface that labeled me out,

Showing people a side of me never seen

But projected onto me,

Such that when so many see my own Blackface,

They see that other

They see that other one.

The one told to them over their kitchen tables.

The one sold to them at the movie show –

Hoop dreams

Baller creams

Holla dolla-dolla bill, y’all.

‘Cause we also know that there are real Black faces

That see those minstrel black faces

Staring them back in the face,

So blinded by the light that they cannot see their own.

 

That’s one side of Trayvon’s story-

Then we all know how precious of a story this really is

That a mother lost her darling son

That a grandmother lost the one who used to babysit for the other gran’kids

That the little cousins are still unclear about where that dear boy is.

 

Blackface means that as soon as your voice starts to drop

As soon as that fuzzy hair starts to sprout all over

As soon as your knock knees start to look bold

You’re no longer a kid

Your childhood is lost

And you must learn to act in ways that would make most sane adults stumble

You learn how not to offend white people

How to speak in a soft voice

Or perish

How to walk slowly, with an unassuming gate

Lest you appear as a threat

With the knowledge that any of these threatened folks can annihilate you

Wipe you from this earth

Where only a generation or two ago

Men hanged like tree-ripened fruit

Aged on a rope in an instant

From kid prankster

To adult menace in a matter of moments

We’ve all seen that photo of one of America’s last lynchings

Not nearly the first

Not nearly the haste, carnage and human waste that made people cease.

 

In 1930, not in anywhere near the deep south

Not from one of our southern willows that sway

But in the mid-west

In Indiana, less than a 150 miles from where Michael Jackson was born

And less than 30 years before he came to be,

So that years later when he sings about hate in our multicultural hearts

Or smashes a window in the video

Enraged with anger

Mad from hypocrisy

The sort that we all know all too well

The gap between the promise and dream.

The reality versus the verses etched all around the capital,

Versus the slave hands that laid those very stones.

The women folk whose very gender made them slaves

And the Black women whose faces made them chattel –

But exploitation of a sexual kind

Yes, we all know too well

What a Blackface can do

How a Blackface can scare you

Even when it’s yours.

So, we now the rage Michael felt,

The hate he seemed to have fought though lost,

Internalized but never giving up.

Yet he was born into a world that hated Blackfaces

Where his was a real threat,

Lest he learn to sing and dance.

The hate is real life minstrelsy.

 

It’s that same song and dance that we as boys learn to perform

And I am tired of dancing

Trying to make nice when people approach me as cold as ice

Smiling and trying to behave

While all their body language tells me that they are scared to death of me

And that they see my Blackface as chilling.

We all know that all the Trayvons in this place

Learn from an age too early to have to teach kids such harsh cruelties of life

That by 13, he could be nearly 6 feet tall and that factor alone endangers his life

Were he to play sports and his body develop.

He would stand no chance of being treated like anything other than a gladiator.

So it’s even more ironic that Trayvon was a scrawny boy they called “Slim”

Seems there’s no real way to win

Though I think that if we as a people can get through this

If we as a nation can have this conversation

The one mothers like Trayvon’s have with their sons

For we all know how people react to Black

 

%d bloggers like this: