May 152013
 

Theresa May clearly likes getting brownie points.  This story from Left Foot Forward today makes it all too plain:

The home secretary Theresa May announced today that under the Conservatives those convicted of killing a police officer will have their sentences raised to the ‘whole life’ category, usually reserved for the very worst types of murderer.

As the article goes on to remind us, there have been 376 people killed as a result of contact with the police since 2005.  But whilst in the same period seven police officers were killed, I wouldn’t like to get into a numbers game here.  The police clearly face an awful frontline every day of their working week – and, perhaps, outside work too – and it must be almost impossible to quantify how the stress and strain of that frontline affects the quality of those lives.

What I would like in this post to better understand, however, is exactly what frontline we are talking about.  In response to this article, and some time later in the day, I tweeted the following thought:

The police don’t only need protecting from those who would kill them. They also need protecting from politicians who would misuse them.

I was thinking in particular of Hillsborough, Orgreave, the life and times of Margaret Thatcher and the covert actions on left-wing activists.  Especially when I added in exchange with Mark, a Twitter friend of mine:

@MILivesey Yes but politicians seem to have used the police where that option, for us as simple subjects, doesn’t exist.

Mark then responded interestingly in this way:

@eiohel The Police are they’re to serve and enforce the Law. The problem is politicians use Law to enact policy.

This, for me, in my generally self-taught self and situation, is an astonishing revelation.  And it leads me to wonder if it isn’t time we developed the potential for separating the law and policy-making more profoundly.  Is it at all possible, in fact, to contemplate processes of national and local policy-making which don’t use as a tool for their implementation the law?

That don’t sully such a law with their political notions …

What if politicians were able to enact policy without using the courts, the police or legal processes at all?  What if the courts, the police and the law were only there to defend the people from abuse from their politicians, business leaders and other concentrations of power and wealth?  What if we could create a circumstance whereby the police were always on our side?  What if the police simply operated to sustain a sensible and sensitive raft of inalienable rights?

For this does seem to me to be the nature of the problem.  Although unproven, I think it hardly tendentious to suggest some police forces became politicised under Thatcher’s rule; some police officers covertly stepped over the line between protecting and oppressing; some of the machinery of law and order became the machinery of political control.

New Labour barely did much better: CCTV mushroomed under Blair; ID-card schemes were proposed and very nearly introduced; laws to manage and control people’s behaviours were passed hand over fist.

So in the middle of all of this, the real frontline for our police clearly becomes much more one of abuse at the hands of elected government officials than one of getting voluntarily involved in a delegitimising process of rather underhand social organisation and reorganisation.

At the mercy, that is, of entirely politicising forces.

Can, as Mark seems to indicate, we ever get to a place where the police and the law are there to primarily defend the rights of ordinary flesh-and-blood people over almost anything else that makes waves in our civilisation?

Where ordinary flesh-and-blood people come way before politicians, their prejudices, their party structures, business leaders, globalising forces and corporate entities?

Where the sole and specific purpose of the police is to defend the voters and their families from any attempt at repression – instead of ending up flailing tools of those who would use their elected positions to repress?

It seems to me, if you really want me to say what’s on my mind, that we need the police on our side much more than we need to denigrate them.  But in order to make that connection, we must work out why we are fed – so systematically – with stories and tales of their bad behaviours.  Theresa May’s bald attempt to cuddle up to the police, even as Coalition cuts savage their structures, is about as highly political as anyone could ever get.  That “life” should mean the “whole of one’s life” when the servant of the people is killed by the people but that the same relationship should not exist when the people are killed by the servant is so manifestly repressive in its dynamics and shape to make it almost laughable.  Except that this is no joke.

The real reason for May’s curious statement then?  Perhaps a) to ensure the police remain on the side of the politicians despite the dreadful environment of austerity; and b) to ensure the people continue to fear the former as keepers of both general order and the law politicians so love to pervert.

Who’d be a police officer in such a landscape?  Not me.

But then, right now, as austerity bites deep, you could ask any Western citizen pretty much the same question.

Given a free choice, who’d be on that frontline which ordinary police officers must so clearly struggle with – that real frontline between political perversion and civil society so obviously corrupting everything?

Jan 142013
 

This report came my way via Patrick on Twitter just now.  It’s published over at the Independent and describes the following set of circumstances (the bold is mine):

From October 2011 to the end of September 2012, HMRC was given 172 authorisations for “directed surveillance” – covert surveillance, mainly in public places – down slightly from the previous year.

HMRC refused to disclose how many times it had been given warrants to intercept and read peoples’ private emails, or listen to their phone calls. This is the most intrusive type of surveillance, which needs to be authorised by the Home Secretary. It also refused to disclose the number of times it had carried out “intrusive surveillance”, which can include covertly filming a person’s house, or bugging their property or car.

As a specialist in tax law goes on to state:

Adam Craggs, a partner and tax specialist at law firm RPC, said: “It is not immediately apparent why such communications data would be useful to HMRC for the purpose of tax investigations. Why does HMRC require details of the nature of web sites visited, which may be perfectly legal but potentially embarrassing, such as dating sites?”

To be honest, I think that’s the least of it.  Embarrassment, I mean.  Whilst we can all agree that measures and procedures must be in place to protect us from the really bad guys in society – the paedophiles, terrorists, fraudsters and assorted expense-accounted MPs – it gets a little harder when we begin to wonder if exactly the same measures as the above-mentioned might instead be used to interfere with the development of small and medium-sized businesses.

Especially in an Internet world where barriers to entry are really rather low.

Spying on the enemy has always been sold to the public at large as necessary to defend freedom and democracy – but it is surely of far greater utility when the big-business-and-government nexus of revolving doors decides its interests need protecting over that of approaching political and commercial upstarts.

Just think what a government department which had cosy relationships with massive corporations, which frequently agreed massive tax deals behind closed doors and which was accustomed to steering clear of public disagreement with transnational bodies of all kinds, might be able to engineer with such commonplace activities and instincts as the Independent reports.  It is, after all, one small step from “intrusive surveillance” to “active interference in the internal workings of a company”.

How easy would it therefore be to go beyond watching and waiting for tax infractions to proactively sabotaging new ideas and giving existing players the economic and logistical breathing spaces they needed in order to regroup and, as a result, maintain the status quo so sought after by politicians and business leaders alike.

A police state, that is – only without the police.

Not a politically repressive regime.

Rather, an economically repressive regime.

So is this what we’ve now arrived at?  Something cloaked in democracy but smelling as rank as any one-dictator republic?

Something perhaps as bad as anything 20th century Communism was able to dream up?

Dec 182012
 

This report from Channel 4 on the #plebgate affair throws up another video worth your time.  Watch it first.


http://www.channel4.com/news/andrew-mitchell-plebgate-police-cctv-downing-street

*

Several immediate reactions, in no particular order of importance:

  • If Andrew Mitchell is telling the truth, and our government is so tardy about investigating and getting at the truth of what its own allegedly get up to (or not), what does this tell us about its ability to devise and engineer policy for a whole society?  I mean if it can’t get right one piddling little report into events which supposedly took place in an area crammed full of CCTV cameras the government itself owns, what are the implications for their ability to fashion the destination of the NHS, Legal Aid, the Budget and its aftermath and a whole host of other matters of national importance?
  • If Andrew Mitchell is telling the truth, and both the Sun and the Telegraph duly followed their journalistic procedures, what does this say about the quality of their procedures?
  • If Andrew Mitchell is telling the truth, and the newspapers which reported this affair were prepared to use material leaked by a person who had a close relationship with the police, doesn’t this indicate they’ve done this on far more occasions beforehand – during #hackgate for starters and inevitably since?  Doesn’t it, in fact, indicate such behaviours are par for the course?
  • Finally, if Andrew Mitchell is telling the truth, and now – on the basis of what he alleges happened to him at the hands of some individuals or other – wants something to be done in order to re-establish the belief he had in the police prior to these aforementioned events, aren’t we allowed to ask him why such a firm and definite trust wasn’t already severely damaged by the revelations around Milly Dowler, Hillsborough and Orgreave onwards?

Yes.  I feel for Andrew Mitchell if the situation is as he describes it.  Just as I feel, as any human being surely must, for the aspersions cast on the reputations of others in recent times.  But I can’t help also feeling something bigger is happening here.  Andrew Mitchell doesn’t want what has happened to him to happen again in Britain.  I agree, of course.  But I’d go much much further.  Personally, I wouldn’t want the sex abuse scandals to repeat themselves; I wouldn’t want the fuel poverty scandals to repeat themselves; I wouldn’t want the Hillsborough cover-up to happen again; I wouldn’t want my unhappiness with and distrust of my government’s ability to manage a country to perpetuate itself any longer.

Yet what I believe is really taking place here is that all of us – all of us as a society – are being stitched up by forces quite beyond our ken.  If Andrew Mitchell truly tells it as it has occurred, and he’s not now spinning the revelations for his own purposes, then this is really a rather unsatisfactory – even severe – matter.  If someone like Mr Mitchell, at the heart of government, cannot get the truth out when a frame is being engineered around him by other institutions, what hope do any of the rest of us have when faced by analogous circumstances?

Are we really saying our society is so very corrupt/inefficient/inept that one of the most senior figures in government can be removed from his position after a cursory and inconclusive investigation by people on his own side into accusations splashed by the same old media dynamics which Tom Watson, the Guardian and others spent so much time, money and resources trying to unmask?

The stitch-up I talk about?  This – that is to say, everything I describe above – is all leading us to a situation where we simply can’t trust anyone again to be telling the unvarnished truth.  Instead of engaging enthusiastically and directly, immediately and sincerely, with our peers and representatives and leaders and enablers, we are slowly but surely going down the path of an encroaching and cynical disengagement.

A cynical disengagement where we will be forced to end up concluding that nothing – but nothing – can be relied on any more.

And who really benefits from such a reaction and such a dispiriting conclusion?  Who really benefits from such a bankrupting of democracy?

Well, I think it’s actually time that you told me.

But what I can say for sure is that it ain’t going to be people like us.

Nov 252012
 

Last year, for some reason I never properly understood, I was invited to a number of briefings by the Law Society on the encroaching cuts in Legal Aid which this government quite unnecessarily proposed.  The Law Society produced its own suggestions which quite reasonably proposed greater savings than the Coalition thought necessary whilst simultaneously protecting citizen access to Legal Aid in many of the highly sensitive areas the government was aiming to take out of scope.  The government, running as it did – and still does – on petrol tanks of prejudice far more than the evidence-based approach which tends to guarantee equanimity, ignored those suggestions and the campaign failed.

More recently, I have heard that an American tendency to number-crunch crime statistics is under consideration here in Britain.  Predictive policing, if I understand correctly, involves analysing data in relation to what crimes and where have already been committed in a community to ensure that a police presence is maximised, refined and optimised in terms of where such crimes might take place in the future.

The crimes that generally get mentioned tend to be similar to burglary – I am unaware whether this is to soften up and ensure blind public acceptance of the technique’s potential implications or whether it lends itself especially to such activities (just as I ask myself why we couldn’t initiate our investigations with these new technologies in the fields of potential banking fraud, for example, before we deal with the petty lowlife) – but it does occur to me that perhaps such a concept could be introduced elsewhere with equally constructive results.  What if those who might commit crime – but unknowingly, through some complexity of the law and a wider general inaccessibility to the same – could access similar predictive systems which might inform them of their transgression before it actually managed to unknowingly consummate itself?

A kind of predictive Legal Aid, in fact, where the law would be democratised and made more understandable using the very same algorithms that the police are currently applying to catch criminals before they actually get to act on a “decision cycle” – but which in this case could be of very significant use to a wider population which wishes to remain law-abiding wherever they can properly understand how to.

A bemused population, in fact, which is already massively confused by the increasing number and penetration of laws into what is essentially an evermore domestic environment.

Now I do understand that in the ideal world we should still aim for, such a system of Legal Aid would never fully replace a face-to-face and sympathetic consultation.  We do not, however, live in an ideal world – and resources, they tell us, are short.  Just imagine, then, if we could harness the concept of predictive policing to help lawful citizens remain so: a preventative justice system, that is, which didn’t just help the police stop the baddies but helped the goodies proactively stop themselves from falling into the abyss of unconscious misdemeanourship.

I wondered the other day whether Twitter mightn’t do this for its own software constitution.  It’s a simple example: an automated system such as that which legal eagles, scraping the web for intellectual property infringement, might already use – but adapted to the needs of certain updateable keywords and phrases.  The tweet in question, before it was sent, would be parsed by the system and flagged up to the user if potentially libellous for a particular jurisdiction.

So just imagine a similar principle applied far more widely and comprehensively to the law: like a competent National Health Service, don’t only put the patients back together again when they fall ill but also provide them with the tools to avoid falling ill in the first place.

Too difficult to achieve?  Right.  OK.  Like putting a man on the moon was too difficult to achieve half a century ago.

The right political will can still move mountains of achievement.

*

To this moment in my essay, all well and good.  The question I now ask, with a modicum of bad faith, runs as follows: do the police and their evermore privatising colleagues – as well as lawyerly folk more generally – really want to reduce the number of crimes and misdemeanours committed or not?

Is it, in fact, in their interests to promote the prevention of crime?

Would they really like to make us all law-abiding?

Or do they actually need us to continue providing them with work – the kind of work which fills their profitable timesheets, their profit-driven prisons and their profiteering contracts for managing the underbelly of our societies?

And if you think I am being harsh, answer me this question: why start with those criminals who would wish to cause crime – and not with those who do not wish to fall foul of its consequences in the first place?

Why not start with prevention when it’s so manifestly better than the cure?

Nov 112012
 

This is clearly what people in the trade call a hatchet job.  It’s written by two journalists: one, unfortunately, called David Rose; the other, rather more identifiably, called Bob Woffinden.  More background to this complex and unclear situation, with corresponding links, can be found at the moment over at Tom’s place.

The only thing I’d add to Tom’s piece, which I don’t think I found included, is this story which came my way via Ally Fogg’s Twitter feed this evening:

Can anyone confirm that the David Rose who wrote the hatchet job on Messham in the Mail today is same DR writing here? newstatesman.com/politics/2007/…

The link and story it directs us to, written indeed in 2007 by a certain David Rose, admits quite openly to the following introduction to a deeper world of editorial collusion:

My secret life began, as if scripted by P G Wodehouse, with an invitation to tea at the Ritz.

The call came at the end of the first week of May 1992. I was the Observer’s home affairs correspondent, and at the other end of the line was a man we shall call Tom Bourgeois, special assistant to “C”, Sir Colin McColl, the then chief of the Secret Intelligence Service. SIS (or MI6, as it is more widely known) was “reaching out” to selected members of the media, Bourgeois explained, and over lunch a few days earlier with McColl, my editor, Donald Trelford, had suggested that I was a reliable chap – not the sort, even years later, to betray a confidence by printing an MI6 man’s real name.

I suggest you read on to get a full flavour of what was about to happen – though I suppose even the most naive of us out here might already realise the essence of the game …

  1. that just over a week ago a man – who most are prepared to admit was seriously and sexually abused in his youth whilst under the care of the state – should speak up in public to the BBC‘s “Newsnight” programme, and then proceed to retract his accusations …
  2. that the “Newsnight” journalists should fail to properly check the story having previously dropped an investigation into Jimmy Savile’s activities in the same organisation …
  3. that another man who was pinpointed by some in the mainstream and social media as having been one of the abusers, Lord McAlpine, should then have to issue this statement, denying – before he had actually been officially named by anyone of repute – that he had done anything of which he could be reasonably accused …
  4. and then that two journalists, one of whom has the same name as a host of other selfless individuals sadly labouring under public suspicion through mere association, should proceed to destroy what little reputation the accuser apparently had in any case …

… well, it does seems all rather weird, to borrow a term going the rounds at the moment.

In fact, there’s far more weirdness in all of this from the establishment side of things than anything a clearly sad and suffering survivor of sexual abuse could ever promulgate.

Just to underline two finally salient points.  Firstly, as Tom reminds us in another piece he posted today:

The fact of the matter is it wasn’t the BBC that wrongly implicated Lord McAlpine in the child abuse scandal.

It was North Wales Police.

Abuse victim Steve Messham – and the widow of another victim – told Channel 4 News that they were shown a photo and wrongly given Lord McAlpine’s name by police when they were interviewed by them in the early 1990s.

Now I’m aware that the McAlpine family tree is fiendishly complicated but it’s an extraordinary mistake to make on the part of the police – which is why it’s even stranger that the harsh, critical light of opprobrium is being concentrated in the direction of the BBC (and on Steve Messham too) and not in the least bit on North Wales Police.

Further to this point, you can find more from a couple of days ago from the BBC itself here:

A victim of sexual abuse while he was a resident of a north Wales care home has apologised for making false allegations against a Conservative politician.

Steve Messham said police had shown him a picture of his abuser but incorrectly told him the man was Lord McAlpine.

Secondly, Lord McAlpine’s own carefully couched statement already linked to above had this revealing sentence in its very first paragraph (the bold is mine):

“Over the last several days it has become apparent to me that a number of ill-or uninformed commentators have been using blogs and other internet media outlets to accuse me of being the senior Conservative Party figure from the days of Margaret Thatcher’s leadership who is guilty of sexually abusing young residents of a children’s home in Wrexham, North Wales in the 1970′s and 1980′s.

In a document I am sure was so obviously parsed and approved by his lawyer, that he should choose to say “the senior Conservative Party figure [...] who is guilty of sexually abusing young residents” and not choose, for example, to say “who it is alleged was guilty of sexually abusing young residents” is surely revealing in itself.

Now I may be reading far more into this than is fair.  It may be true that – under Thatcher – we lived in a policed state and not a police state (more here).  But whilst the least shadow of a doubt remains, it is clear – at least to me – that something feels as wrong now as it did a decade ago during the lead-up to the Iraq War.

That furious pitter-patter of guilt-ridden establishment brogues was never louder or more worrying than today.

From banking to the BBC, from Murdoch to the police, from MPs’ expenses to democratic deficit, from the destruction of public services to the reconstruction of private-sector graft … well, little it now seems is out of the frame of our suspicions.

Little it now seems is too incredible.

Who can we turn to?  Who can we trust?  Who can help clear up this mess?  Who has the moral authority and right?

These are the questions our politicians need to answer.  These are the issues of the day.

Nov 102012
 

Puffles summarises in one tweet tonight what I have been feeling for longer than I can remember:

Puffles (*notes*) the crisis of establishment institutions continues. BBC, politics, banking, newspapers, police…all in a v short time space

Now some of you already know that in 2003 I was almost sectioned for an illness which came over me as a result of the lies told around the Iraq War.  The illness came over me because of other reasons too – but principally it involved me furiously writing a blog where I tried to demonstrate that what the politicians were saying was false.

I failed, and fell quite seriously ill as a result.

I was interviewed by a highly unsympathetic psychiatrist at three o’clock in the morning for about two hours – and condemned myself to a month in hospital through the very words I spouted in those two hours.  I was undoubtedly ill, I can’t deny it; had, indeed, done some very strange thing in the weeks leading up to that moment – but my recovery was so much quicker than my social worker said it would be (she told me I could expect to be able to do no more than two hours a week voluntary activities for months once I got out when in fact I started work almost immediately for a fast-food company on a twenty-hour shift) that although it took a while for me to get my wits together, it did finally become sufficiently self-evident that my savage distrust as exhibited by the diagnosis in question was not entirely due to illness: in massive hindsight there is for me a grand sense that the reality was closer to my perceptions and the illness was a consequence not of seeing falsely but – rather – of seeing all too clearly.

I mention all of this today because what is happening in our society, as Puffles summarises so presciently and accurately, may lead far more of us down similar roads of mighty distrust.  I suspect that it no longer really matters whether Mr Murdoch is doing cartwheels over the latest revelations at the BBC (more here), whilst his own irresponsible leadership disappears over the media event horizon; nor should anyone worry whether Hillsborough and Orgreave will finally get the justice they deserve; nor, even, should we care if Masonic paedophile rings riddle the country or not.  No.  In truth, the wider damage has already been done.  Those of us of a paranoid bent are becoming the commonplace, not the exception.  Those of us who see shadows everywhere are seeing we are right to see them anywhere.

In truth, the reality is that the mighty distrust which in other times was judged ill-founded has become a normalised and common reaction to everyone and everything we perceive.

*

This evening my son was walking home from playing football.  He popped into the local Spar to buy himself some Ben & Jerry’s.  Whilst he was there, a blonde woman of around fifty looked him over in a way which called his attention.  He then left the shop and continued his way home.  At the top end of Caughall Road, near where we live, the lady in question, sitting alongside a man who my son didn’t properly see, stopped her car across the road and offered him a lift.  My son didn’t know her; had never seen her in his life prior to the Spar; couldn’t understand why she should even know where he lived.

A case of potential paedophilia?  My son is seventeen, so I don’t think so.  But I phoned 101, all the same, with the details.  The police also found it quite disconcerting.  They didn’t take my details as there was little detail to report, beyond that the car was green and was driven by a blonde woman in her fifties, but did remark that whilst they would have recognised the pattern if my son had been a child, a couple attempting to pick up a seventeen year old was certainly rather strange.

My family called me paranoid for phoning the police.

Was I?

Surely, in the light of all that’s going down, they should see me as foolishly trusting.

To go to the police in precisely that part of the world where accusations of alleged and historical investigatory reticence have recently surfaced is – you could argue – a sign of madness in itself.

Anyhow.  The broader conclusion we might come to could not really be worse.

In the light of all the terribly uninvestigated things that it would now appear have been taking place over the past forty years, one thing ties all these establishment institutions together: all of them – from politicians, the BBC, News International, the police, banking and the Church to business leaders and organisations various – have committed the same mistake.  Lines of command, where authority breeds an unquestioning allegiance, have proved to have been responsible for rotting our institutions from within – to such an extent, in fact, that the whole bloodied pack of cards is tumbling apart in evil procedural slow-mo … even as they attempt so ineffectively to devise a better truth.

The haemorrhage of good was never so terrible as of late.

In the absence of a true war, we seem to have stumbled across an awful instinct to reproduce the conditions that lead up to civil war.  Only the English, as we know all too well, have such a stiff upper lip that they can but ignore these conditions; they can but ignore the implications.

This is, nevertheless, a war of civil characteristics: a war where people begin to side with their tribes; a war where tribes begin to form like puddles in the park; a park which ends up dramatically flooded by a superstorm; a superstorm which terminates communities as it rapes their sense of trust.

The damage is done – as I said above.

Right and wrong don’t really matter any more.

All that matters is fear.

And a growing – encroaching – violently destructive sense of horrific disbelief in almost all the things we once held dear.

Sep 142012
 

I see via Twitter, fleetingly I must admit, that Iain Dale has defended Thatcher’s memory in relation to the Hillsborough cover-up.  I didn’t hear the programme itself, I believe it was “Any Questions” on BBC Radio, but assume that what we had was a vigorous and convincing separation of action from event.  I imagine the discussion would have gone as follows: Margaret Thatcher did not anywhere say or let it be understood that anyone should cover up anything.  That evidence will not appear because it did not happen.  End of argument.

Margaret Thatcher was a charismatic leader.  But not in the sense most of us generally understand the term.  Most of us understand charismatic as meaning attractive in some dashing way – plenty of personality, the kind of person who manages to sweep you away despite yourself.

Tony Blair was perhaps closer to the latter understanding of charismatic.

No.  The charismatic I mean when I talk of Thatcher is a different charismatic – one I posted on recently in relation to Rupert Murdoch.  Part of the Harold Evans quote contained in that piece bears repeating here in relation to Thatcher:

[...] The concept of charismatic authority as applied to the Murdoch empire may be best understood – as a concept, I emphasise, and not a personal comparison – in the use made of Weber’s definition by Sir Ian Kershaw, historian of the Third Reich. Kershaw argues that Hitler was not much absorbed by the day-to-day details of Nazi Germany’s domestic policy, but was nonetheless a dominant dictator. Kershaw explains the paradox by adopting the phrase of a Prussian civil servant who said the bureaucrats were always “working towards the Fuhrer”. They were forever attempting to win favour by guessing what the boss wanted or might applaud but might well not have asked for. Similarly, in all Murdoch’s far-flung enterprises, the question is not whether this or that is a good idea, but “What will Rupert think?”. He doesn’t have to give direct orders. His executives act like courtiers, working towards what they perceive to be his wishes or might be construed as his wishes. [...]

In my previous post today, on the subject – in part – of Thatcher’s reign, I suggested the following:

When those bodies which exist in representative democracy in order to protect the people are, in reality, there only to represent themselves … well, this is when we do really have to ask questions.  For example, is the common and underlying factor in all these unspooling scandals actually very English kinds of self-elected and autocratic leaders?  Is the nature of our police leaders as allowed to unfold under Thatcher – and perhaps tolerated under New Labour for whatever reasons – an issue which now requires a proper airing?  Orgreave and now Hillsborough?  News International?  Is there really not enough evidence to pull together a broader understanding of what has happened in the past quarter century?

And as Peter in the tweet I linked to first of all rightly concludes:

Ian Dale is being disingenuous. The background created by Thatcher contributed massively to the attitude of S Yorks police.#bbcaq

Absolutely!  Spot on, in fact.  And this was exactly because Thatcher was a charismatic leader with the kind of power to get things done at a societal level just as she wished – even when she didn’t specify exactly what or how.  In a certain impositional way which was bound to feed down to the lower levels, her leadership style contained, as much as Murdoch’s own, that ability to command without specific orders or any dangerous audit trail left behind.  That surely, after all, is the purpose of a certain kind of leadership: not micro-manage underlings into a shaky inefficiency but encourage them to flock around one in effective consonance.

So when we all finally conclude Thatcher wasn’t to blame, because the evidence simply won’t exist, we will have to accept that she wasn’t.

Except, of course, inasmuch as she set the national tone through a system that eminent historians concluded was used – in other awful historical circumstances – by a very unhappy, and arguably evil, führer.

Does that make her guilty of anything?  The fact that she only set a tone which may have encouraged very specific centres of police power in crucial moments of her government to act as autocratically as she had shown herself able to?

I’m inclined to believe it does.  And I’m also inclined to feel that life under Thatcher was so awfully violent and cruel not because she brought it upon us but rather because she brought it out of us.  Charismatic authority does that: whilst it leads by example, it succeeds through understanding us far better than we care to understand ourselves.  And then it proceeds to work on those instincts and use them to take us all in one horrible direction.

So she didn’t actually do it, did she?  She just enabled it.

A paradox.  All this time I’ve been arguing against pyramid politicians who impose their will – and in favour of enablers and facilitators who empower the people.  Yet it’s quite possible that, in the event, Thatcher was an enabler and facilitator like no other.

Empowering the people doesn’t automatically mean the people will do good.

Especially if the enabler and facilitator in question looks to empower autocracy.

Time to reopen the book on Margaret Thatcher then?  I think it is.  Her legacy, the past quarter of a century, is now unspooling before our very eyes.

Sep 142012
 

Yesterday, the BBC quoted Jack Straw as saying the following:

Mr Straw said that it was “a matter of great regret” to him that Labour had not ensured that the disaster had been investigated thoroughly enough earlier in its time in office, between 1997 and 2010.

But he also told BBC Radio 4′s Today programme: “The Thatcher government, because they needed the police to be a partisan force, particularly for the miners strike and other industrial troubles, created a culture of impunity in the police service.

“They really were immune from outside influences and they thought they could rule the roost and that is what we absolutely saw in south Yorkshire.”

I do wonder if it isn’t becoming a lot clearer here that some police forces are popping up with an ever-increasing frequency as the very worst guys of establishment behaviour.  We had the apparently cosy relationship between the Met and News International which allowed the phonehacking scandal and other alleged behaviours to be unreasonably ignored for far too long – an ignorance which arguably led to the publishing empire’s iron grip over the vast majority of British politicians for decades; we had the South Yorkshire police in Hillsborough and Orgreave where incorrect policing – blunders or otherwise – were manifestly demonstrated in both cases without, apparently, any corrective actions being taken by anyone in charge.  In all these cases, we just happened to have police forces close to the epicentres of the profoundest power struggles going on at the time under Thatcher’s reign.

So I do wonder if any of what Straw says is accurate, and – if it is – whether this doesn’t explain to a certain extent New Labour’s often secretive ways of running itself.  If some key police forces really did act with an impunity certain people in Thatcher’s cabinet were able to tolerate, they weren’t going to lose the habit when New Labour came into power.  And where any of the policies New Labour wanted to put into practice ended up challenging those who were really in power, the outcomes were never going to be easy – or, indeed, perhaps, safe.

I don’t know about you but certainly for me, in Straw’s words there is a degree of latent paranoia which makes me – as an outsider – think twice.  What really went on inside those levels of British society so accustomed in Thatcher’s time to undemocratically exerting the levers of power?  How did they negotiate the change between the Tories and Blair?  Was it all down to Blair himself selling a donkey to the populace?  Or did Blair & Co really have a fight on their hands – a serious and profoundly scary fight, as Straw’s comments would seem to indicate might have been the case?

*

When those bodies which exist in representative democracy in order to protect the people are, in reality, there only to represent themselves … well, this is when we do really have to ask questions.  For example, is the common and underlying factor in all these unspooling scandals actually very English kinds of self-elected and autocratic leaders?  Is the nature of our police leaders as allowed to unfold under Thatcher – and perhaps tolerated under New Labour for whatever reasons – an issue which now requires a proper airing?  Orgreave and now Hillsborough?  News International?  Is there really not enough evidence to pull together a broader understanding of what has happened in the past quarter century?

For the difference between a policed state and a police state is often not all that easy to perceive.

And once we have slipped from the former to the latter, who’s to say we will ever know how to return?

Sep 122012
 

Steve is an expert in Freedom of Information requests.  He does a damn good job of trying to wheedle out of generally unforthcoming institutions the kind of information we need to run a democracy properly.  He does more than most of the rest of us manage together.  He deserves a medal.

He is, however, operating under a conceptual con – a con I am sure he is aware of.  Douglas Adams had it best described when he gave us the answer to the Ultimate Question.  This, of course, if I remember rightly, being the number 42.

The problem, of course, if I remember rightly, being the question which 42 was the answer to.

In fact, if truth be told, we know the answers for most of our important life issues.  We knew the reality behind, for example, the Hillsborough tragedy way before its facts were published today.  We just couldn’t prove it.

That Rupert Murdoch’s publishing empire was in some way mixed up in the governance of the nation was also patently obvious to so many citizens – and yet very little could be done before a phonehacking tragedy, and a very small group of convinced citizens, served doggedly to uncover an awful trail of behaviours and apparent cover-ups.

The burden of proof that our legal system requires is based on providing hard evidence.  But what if the citizen’s right-to-know is deliberately tied down by strategies designed to make it far easier and safer to declaim answers in private than ask any daring and appropriate questions in public?

It’s not Freedom of Information we need: not that terrible game of often half-blindly identifying the areas of thought which might be in play.  It’s the whenever-and-wherever right to see the questions and assumptions that lie behind the answers.  It’s the frankly democratic right to know what their goals really are when our governors cross the thresholds of a supposedly representative democracy.

It’s the mindsets they hide which we should have every right to access.

It’s what they say behind closed doors and really think inside closed minds which – in the 21st century – needs to be in the public domain.

Not Freedom of Information processes which allow us to ask the questions we may already know the answers to but, rather, a much wider right: a right we could term a Freedom of Anytime Access to the documents and strategies of state which invisibly underpin our lives and our futures.

The con is the game that is Freedom of Information – clued-up citizens playing an intellectual cat-and-mouse with poker-faced upper-handed leaders.

The solution must surely lie in that Freedom of Anytime Access I mention above.  By default, an inside track on the real intentions of the powerful.

Only then can there be any chance of any kind of reconciliation between those who know what they’ve done but so frequently don’t admit it – and those who damn well know the truth but are unable to prove it.

Jun 212012
 

Some thoughts first from Louis on the experience of private prisons in the US:

[...] Privatizing social works and services is a generally bad idea and in prisons, as with medical care and education, all the more fraught. Private prisons exist by housing prisoners, meaning that the more the local juridical system produces them, the better the locality where the private prison is located (employment, taxes). It goes further. Prison labour is cheap and not unionized. These, alas, are not idle connections.

Then, also via Louis, and from the New York Times recently, a report on how privatised halfway houses are allowing a stream of criminals to escape from their privatised care:

After decades of tough criminal justice policies, states have been grappling with crowded prisons that are straining budgets. In response to those pressures, New Jersey has become a leader in a national movement to save money by diverting inmates to a new kind of privately run halfway house.

The report goes on to say:

Yet with little oversight, the state’s halfway houses have mutated into a shadow corrections network, where drugs, gang activity and violence, including sexual assaults, often go unchecked, according to a 10-month investigation by The New York Times.

With a final damning conclusion:

Since 2005, roughly 5,100 inmates have escaped from the state’s privately run halfway houses [...].

Finally, we go to the Guardian, where the head of G4S is reported to be pushing the following line on police privatisation:

[...] “For most members of the public what they will see is the same or better policing and they really don’t care who is running the fleet, the payroll or the firearms licensing – they don’t really care,” he said.

He is also quoted as saying:

Taylor-Smith said core policing would remain a public-sector preserve but added: “We have been long-term optimistic about the police and short-to-medium-term pessimistic about the police for many years. Our view was, look, we would never try to take away core policing functions from the police but for a number of years it has been absolutely clear as day to us – and to others – that the configuration of the police in the UK is just simply not as effective and as efficient as it could be.”

Meanwhile, the contracts that are apparently being tendered for could:

result in private companies taking responsibility for duties ranging from investigating crimes to transporting suspects and managing intelligence.

So what exactly is this definition of core policing?  How does it not include investigating crimes, transporting suspects or managing intelligence?  As the Guardian report goes on  to underline:

In the £1.5bn deal being discussed by West Midlands and Surrey police, the list of policing activities up for grabs includes investigating crimes, detaining suspects, developing cases, responding to and investigating incidents, supporting victims and witnesses, managing high-risk individuals, managing intelligence, managing engagement with the public, as well as more traditional back-office functions such as managing forensics, providing legal services, managing the vehicle fleet, finance and human resources.

What the hell, after all that lot, is left for the public servant to carry out?

*

A final thought to be going away with: this much vaunted procedure whereby private companies supposedly square the circles of efficiency, the pursuit of shareholder gain and the ethos of public service – the latter also mentioned quite aggressively, as well as questionably, by the head of G4S in his declamations to the Guardian – is little short of a return to Soviet-style socialism for the rich.  Once the contracts have been duly tendered for, the competitive choice of the real end-user – that is to say, the taxpayer who foots the bill that ends up in the pockets of private shareholders – is limited, by virtue of the very structure of the tender, to one private company instead of one public body.

So where the devil is the difference in that?  Except, of course, that private shareholders who already own deep pockets get to deepen them even further on the backs of the livelihoods and tax pounds of ordinary citizens.  Which, in the case of public services and civil servants, didn’t happen all that often.

And with the additional dangers of a hands-off relationship between state and privatising industry which, to paraphrase Louis’s words and the conclusions of the New York Times, can only lead to a degradation of the service provided.

I tell you what.  Here’s a bright idea which would convince me there was really something in this.  How about if prisoners and criminals were able to choose between a range of corrective institutions as one would choose between a range of MP3 players?

If we truly believe in the virtues of private business over public administration, surely we need that daily vote that a consumer-driven market involves.  Without such incessant consumer input, we’re simply back to the bad old days of monopoly and pretty easy dosh.  Long-term exclusive contracts which tie a direct customer – the state – into a deal they can rarely wriggle out of when expectations, if ever set, are inevitably unmet.

Daylight robbery, in fact.

Interestingly enough.

May 072012
 

Wikipedia Commons

Paul has just posted a terrifyingly measured piece over at his blog.  It describes the dangers of creating a surveillance state with the supposed justification – perhaps the essential requirement – of wanting to protect us all from terrorist attack.  A couple of salient quotes from a piece you should really read in its entirety.  First this:

[...]  In yesterday’s election in Greece, the far right Golden Dawn party gained a disturbing 7% in the elections, and held rallies that had distinct echoes of Nazi Germany.

“No one should fear me if they are a good Greek citizen. If they are traitors – I don’t know,” their leader Nikolaos Michaloliakos told the media. The words, the images – and indeed the election results – have sent shivers down a lot of spines, not just in Greece but around the world.

Then this:

[...]  It should remind us of the origins of a lot of the human rights conventions, declarations and so forth in the second half of the 20th Century: as a reaction to the atrocities of Second World War. We recognised the needs of people for protection from their own governments – because governments can’t be trusted to protect people at all times.

And finally to his conclusion:

As Bruce Schneier put it, in one of my favourite quotes:

“It’s bad civic hygiene to build technologies that could someday be used to facilitate a police state”

He’s right. We shouldn’t. Those election results from Greece should remind at that most forcefully. Wake up. Smell the coffee.

We in Britain are, of course, no strangers to these dynamics.  In its desire to achieve the parliamentary power the Party had so long been excluded from, Tony Blair’s New Labour sustained and implemented more fully so many right-wing policies from Thatcher’s time that it seems impossible to contemplate that what this current Coalition government has carried out could’ve been done without the ten years of spadework which that intervening and supposedly socialist triangulation may in part represent.

In reality, the mixing up of public and private interest started off in Blairite times as a tactic to ensure the private sector and its sponsors in the media would continue to support some form of public interest.  But whilst Tony Blair & Co could probably be trusted – at least to some degree – with the NHS, our education system and the Welfare State in general, the tools they built and configured in a slew of legislative acts for one set of purposes simply made it easier for utterly untrustworthy examples such as Cameron and Osborne to turn them to the purposes of their own – as well as our – destruction.

Our Welfare State, principally the NHS and Legal Aid, has been torn asunder by the mindsets Blair used, arguably in a cowardly way, to cement in his time its medium-term future.

And so to the CCTV, online surveillance and information sharing policies we now face today: in the hands of the good guys, a whisker away from the fascist state (more here) we should always fear; in the hands of the bad guys, however, a better set of ready-made procedures and processes could not be fashioned if one wanted to.

The lesson for the future?  Don’t rely on your love of a charismatic authority or political figure to sway you from your basic principles: whether we’re talking about private involvement in the public sphere or we’re talking about surveillance strategies against terrorist threats, you cannot predict what economic crisis will do to the way people decide to vote.

After all, democracy has shown throughout history its ability to swallow its own tail and vanish entirely from the scene of the crime.

For democracy is not a steady-state theory.

Rather it is quite often a Big Bang of extreme destructiveness.

A policed state which slyly and incongruously slips into a police state simply makes it easier for the bad guys to go ahead and do their badnesses.

And it’d be mightily ironic if – after a decade of warring against terrorism – our own home-grown internal disaffected individuals, our extreme nationalists and their hangers-on, the Breiviks and EDLs and BNPs of this world, were somehow to take control of our democracies with the very tools we had insisted we acquire in order that, as democracies, we could protect ourselves from external attack.

Nov 102011
 

The hashtag #nov9 was used on Twitter in the days leading up to yesterday’s march in London – a march which involved students who continue to protest the tripling of tuition fees.  I spent most of yesterday working online, though did not follow this hashtag myself.

I did, however, have cause to favourite a handful of tweets which seemed particularly relevant to what appears to have become a Titanic of a country, as we lazily rearrange the green benches of Parliament whilst everything else around us collapses.

These are the tweets in question.  I’ll include the times I received them in square brackets, so you can see why they struck me as so incongruent:

RT @MissEllieMae: Protesters in an impossible catch 22: mask up and get arrested; stay uncovered and get filmed #nov9 < democracy in action [16.47]

Democracy is meant to be disruptive. That’s why the right to demonstrate is an integral part of it. We forget that at our peril. [16.57]

Bedford entrepreneur Lance Haggith is the Prime Minister’s latest #bigsociety award winner bit.ly/stCwIw [17.02]

What a joke our Govt are. Kids are protesting about being priced out of education, yet #hoc debate footballers being allowed to wear poppies [17.03]

And then, last thing at night just before I signed off, we had this one from Fraser Nelson:

@oflynnexpress afraid I am in the minority that wants to save our eu membership, albeit by renegotiating terms then holding referendum. [23.06]

A few of us might argue with the idea of a referendum – but saving EU membership, in the light of Europe’s traumas over the past two centuries, is hardly something anyone should care to disagree with.

I do wonder if the terrain we are entering is not dissimilar to the sandwich of chaos that was eventually the Weimar Republic.

Anyhow, back to the first four tweets.  I bet you can’t guess which one belonged to the Prime Minister’s office.

Or – which is what I really mean to say – I bet you can.

Whilst the majority of the people I follow seemed worried about the attack that police threats, police tactics and an overwhelming police presence may be doing to our concept of democracy, Mr Cameron is most interested in promoting the dead duck of a concept that is the Big Society – a concept I have previously argued is actually designed to exclude.

The truth of the matter is that if modern politicians were a bank, we’d have bailed them out three times already: over the first credit crunch; over MPs’ expenses; and over the ongoing saga that is the Murdochs and the spells they cast – with relatively few exceptions – on all our political class.

We pay them what we pay them – to get it right!  Failure isn’t an option, I’m afraid.  Failure is only an option for those of us who earn what our work is actually worth.  For those who earn far more than they should … well, there is really no excuse.  And allowing light-touch regulation, the expenses issue and the insidious influence of the people who work in tabloids to get as out of hand as they have all got is a clear sign we have corrupt individuals who like to game the system in their very own interests.

Which brings me to this post – which I strongly urge you to read and weep.  Is it true?  The comments below it would seem to indicate it is.

So for these CEOs, who in some cases earn 475 times what an ordinary worker takes home, the option to fail is even less appropriate than in the case of our highly-paid politicos.  And yet, as banks disintegrate and at least one of their leaders has to take time off due to the weight of his onerous responsibilities, they continue to maintain such ratios in the face of all reasonableness.

If the world is really on the edge of total upheaval, why can’t we put aside our combative ways and try and work together?  This would require a change in behaviours, of course – but, as most big companies would like to argue, surely everyone is retrainable …

Nov 082011
 

As it says on the tin: is this (from www.fitwatch.org.uk today) a case of “Minority Report” – or, rather, simply an example of a necessarily proactive policing?

Personally, I wouldn’t be too unhappy about such letters – as long as I felt that the Met’s fraud department would also be sending out similar missives to certain known elements (companies and businesspeople in certain parts of the City of London, for example) as the deadline for preparing annual accounts got closer.

(Or even to people who worked in certain newspaper conglomerates when the time came up to renew their mobile phone contracts.)

Since, however, the Met won’t be sending out such communications, I have to conclude that I’m more than likely going to be unhappy with this policy.

Can you blame me?

*

As a footnote to this post, I’d just like to say how I felt when we arrived in Britain from Spain in 2003 and took our children to the local primary school for the first time.  The welcome we were given was exemplary; the language support services were put in place almost immediately and by Christmas our two youngest were speaking English very well.

Nothing to complain of there.

But the very first month, we received a letter from the local education authority, totally out of the blue, which threatened us with a £70 fine if we were to keep our children off school without justification or – in the case of holidays – without permission.

This was insulting, unnecessary – and presumptuous.

An early harbinger of a wider philosophy of guilty until proven innocent perhaps?

And something those students who have received the letters which are the subject of today’s post might also find resistible for exactly the same reasons?
____________________

Update to this post: the Guardian is now reporting this story in these terms.  An interesting read.

Sep 122011
 

Here’s a lateral thought for you.  This just came my way via Greater Manchester Police’s Twitter feed:

A man has been charged after an armed robbery at a Heaton Moor post office. bit.ly/oRW4NY

It not only tells us what’s happened – as far as Twitter’s 140 characters allow it to – but also provides us with a link to more background on the GMP’s own website.  Now if I did this, off my own bat, by either religiously attending court proceedings or listening to the police radio (if, indeed, such a thing is either possible or legal in this age of scrambled and unhackable communications), I could fairly be accused of taking the bread and butter of local news reporting away from the organisations which currently sustain – probably with difficulty – traditional newspaper and local radio infrastructures.  And yet here we have a massive state institution – in this case a city-wide police force – providing free information via both standard website technologies as well as social media; information which surely, in the medium term, is likely to prejudice the exclusive nature of local news media and their consequent ability to stay in business.

Couldn’t we then, thinking analogously of the financial services sector and the strict regulations relating to the taking advantage of privileged information, argue that what’s beginning to happen here is a trading of what we could almost call “insider information” – for the benefit of a public institution which acquires further popularity at the expense of private sector alternatives?

That is to say, a subsidisation and enforced replacement of a series of services previously provided by what we had termed the “free press”.

This subsidisation involves an ever greater number of hits for the state websites and Twitter feeds in question, which in turn require resources the taxpayer must be asked to support out of the public purse – whether the aforementioned taxpayer is interested in the information under discussion or not.

Whilst provided exclusively by local newspapers and radio stations, these services were paid for – or not as the case may have been – in that clearly-understood way we used to call the free market.  If as a consumer you wanted this kind of information, you paid for it.  If you didn’t, it didn’t cost you.  The implications of the police replacing such a “free press”, however, by a state-run and state-paid-for alternative – which eventually means local news reporting is no longer commercially viable – is surely a rather more worrying question for all of us out here … whatever our political beliefs.

It does mean, firstly, that the state is creating an infrastructure of information which – in the hands of others quite different to those who rule the police today – might easily be used against its subjects, especially in times of societal disorder.  It also means that the “free press” will collapse into a specious non-existence as its business model goes out the window of subsidised state-operated alternatives.  And finally, if the government has its way on locally elected police commissioners, it would place in the hands of individuals at the mercy of political winds (or not, depending on your point of view) a powerful network of communication.

Without, any longer, that local “free press” to hold it back and provide the necessary oversight.

As I say at the top, just a lateral thought.  But one you might, nevertheless, care to come back to in a couple of years.

Aug 242011
 

Colours are important in politics, as in many areas of human endeavour.  Not immutable, however.

My web is red – and for its target market this means British Labour.  But most of my readers are from the US, where red is Republican (conservative, that is), and blue, the colour of English Toryism, is actually the colour of the American Democrats.

At least as far as television is now concerned.

Now there’s a funny thing.

*

I was struck a couple of weeks ago when Mr David Cameron, our holiday-loving Prime Minister, declaimed before the rioting hordes the following:

The move follows David Cameron’s speech this week in the aftermath of the riots in which he said it was essential that the Human Rights Act should not be “misrepresented” and used to undermine personal responsibility.

The prime minister warned that the human rights legislation and health and safety laws had been used to exert a “corrosive influence on behaviour and morality”. But he acknowledged that work on more fundamental changes such as the introduction of a British bill of rights is likely to be “frustratingly slow”.

“The truth is, the interpretation of human rights legislation has exerted a chilling effect on public sector organisations, leading them to act in ways that fly in the face of common sense, offend our sense of right and wrong, and undermine responsibility,” Cameron said.

Whilst:

The Ministry of Justice said: “We want to ensure that public servants understand the law and apply it correctly, so that no one in authority uses the convention wrongly or as an excuse for inaction.”

You can read more here from the BBC on Monday, on the background to the latest developments in this story.

I shouldn’t have been disconcerted by all of this, though, because here we have what Mr Cameron had said in 2007:

David Cameron last night called for the Human Rights Act to be scrapped outright for the first time amid mounting anger that the controversial law had allowed the killer of the head teacher Philip Lawrence to escape deportation.

In the current climate, I wouldn’t be surprised if that wouldn’t now be “escape decapitation”.  For seventy percent of those questioned about the riots now believe harsher sentences are the right way forward.

Justice or tough justice?

And then yesterday the Guardian reported this fascinating story:

Senior Metropolitan police officers devised a policy of holding all people arrested on riot-related offences in custody and recommending that the courts also refuse bail after they were charged, according to a leaked “prisoner processing strategy” that lawyers argue could pave the way for a mass legal challenge.

The reason behind this blanket and premeditated – ie not case-by-case – assessment of sentencing requirements? Well, apparently it was because the thin blue line found itself unable to resist the aforementioned rioting hordes to the extent that the peaceful populace – the vast majority – were not being protected:

The police document argues that the policy was necessary to prevent further public disorder as violence spread through the capital. But it also acknowledges that the force was so stretched at the height of the riots that it was “impractical” to bail people while they conducted “protracted” investigations, suggesting that investigating officers use special rules to fast-track cases to the courts with less evidence than is normally required. The recommendation could expose the Metropolitan police to accusations that it adopted a policy of “conveyer belt” justice in order to deal with its unprecedented workload.

Specifically (the bold is mine):

Elsewhere the [police document] says: “The volume of prisoners being processed makes it impractical to bail for the purpose of protracted investigation. Where evidence of an offence exists charging authority should be sought, that is likely to mean that the threshold test is applied.”

Didn’t happen with the more than four thousand cases of voicemail interception and invasion of privacy by the newspaper industry though, did it?  That was one sorry case where it was judged impractical to bring to court every infraction and crime allegedly out there.

I wonder why.

The lawyers to whom the police document in question was sent in turn sent a letter to the Metropolitan police:

The lawyers’ letter to the Met describes the policy as amounting to “unlawful arbitrary detention” of people. The existence of the policy has a “chilling” effect on Article 5 under the European court of human rights which guarantees an individual’s liberty and security, it says. Adopting a pre-action protocol for judicial review, the letter demands an apology for the violation of the woman’s fundamental rights. […}

The police replied thus (again the bold is mine):

“Guidance was issued to officers to ensure a consistent approach to an investigation which was, and remains, unprecedented in its volume and complexity.

“To ensure the interests of justice were served, prevent further disorder and protect the public it was made clear that a decision should be sought to charge where there was sufficient evidence. With courts sitting extended hours, the recommendation that those charged were remanded in custody was made to ensure cases were dealt with quickly and again to protect the public from potential further disorder.

“Cases were, and continue to be, looked at on the basis of the evidence available. Where the threshold to charge was not met people have been bailed to return pending further inquiries, released with no further action or – in a small number of cases – dealt with by other police disposals.”

But not, it would seem, over a decade of wrongdoing when people’s privacy was regularly and habitually invaded by newspapers like the News of the World, and with the alleged knowledge of some corrupt bodies in the very same police force.

Now, although it may seem like it, I’m not looking to rub salt into the wounds of corruption here.  A recent mention of my account on Twitter drew me to another Twitter account which proclaims, quite rightly, though incompletely, that we should “Protect our police”.  Why do I say “incompletely”?  Because I assume that those who hold such simplistic views fail to understand that when we say “Protect our police” we must say “Protect us all”.

Yes, I know.  I had it explained to me by a police officer when I was a Parish Councillor.  The people see the police as a police service.  The police themselves, however, inevitably, see themselves as a police force.  That thin blue line, don’t you know?

But this then comes to the very nub of the issue.  If we are to continue to police by consent in the UK, we must remember that colours are not immutable, that all the peoples who live in the British Isles all have a right to intervene in how they are protected – and that whilst the police inevitably behave like a force in times of crisis, their abiding and overarching virtue – compared to civilian forces in other countries – is that they truly prefer to be seen as a service.

And not only that – the vast majority of those who inhabit this country I am sure would also prefer to see them thus.

As Mary Riddell quite rightly pointed out in the Telegraph yesterday:

The European Court of Human Rights may need reform but the law, as applied by the UK courts, has consistently upheld the rights of the citizen against an over-mighty state. For Mr Cameron to claim that the causes of the riots included “twisting and misrepresenting human rights” suggests, absurdly, that the HRA is a charter for arsonists, thugs and trainer-looters. In reality, the “perversion” of human rights that he bewails is largely a politician’s dislike of judicial power.

That, on either side of the Atlantic, red can easily equal blue, and the thin blue line originally be a red one of much renown, should remind us that the overbearing state is not only a temptation of the left.  I suspect Mr Cameron is heading towards going down in history as one of the most repressive PMs it’ll be our honour to experience – not out of a desire to stamp on the underclasses as much of the more rancid end of his party might wish; but, rather, out of an inability to escape the rising PR rhetoric his speechifying creates.

Yes, we need to protect the police – more now than ever before.  But what we really need to protect the police from are those structures and individuals which would twist the service’s real purpose: that of providing the necessary logistical support and community framework to an intelligent and forward-looking society.

A society which is looking, in that selfsame intelligence, to imaginatively bring together its many peoples in coherent understanding.

Be a force if you must, on the occasions that we need.  But – even then – an intelligent and transparent force, all the same.

In all war, the negotiating table eventually puts in an appearance.

The wise know when the time is right – and do not flinch at their responsibility to serve instead of impose.

Aug 122011
 

With all this talk of interrupting communication networks when riots and serious acts of public order are “planned”, I couldn’t help tweeting the following a moment ago.  First, this:

People are going to be thinking twice about going on even peaceful demonstrations in the future. #saddaysfordemocracy

And then this:

Makes me wonder if the gun lobby doesn’t have a point: social media doesn’t cause riots; people cause riots. #saddaysfordemocracy

And a consequence of all this which I’ve seen no one pick up on yet, and which I should have included in yesterday’s post, is that you can’t intervene in and interrupt a communication network such as Blackberry’s Messenger service, when, that is, you need to, if you don’t intend to monitor it on a fairly continuous basis.  That monitoring of such networks is therefore on the table is a true sign of the authoritarian instincts displayed by this government of the weak.  For, if truth be told, such reactions do demonstrate weakness; and there is no political truth more self-evident than this: the weaker a government shows itself to be, the more authoritarian will be its instincts and behaviours.

Another tweet, in this case from James Doran, reminds us – if reminder were needed – of the confusions we are currently living:

You can’t compare rioters with bankers. Come on, be fair. Not a single banker has been arrested for trashing the economy.

Whilst Peter Oborne’s powerful piece in the Telegraph today deserves to be read by all and sundry.  One choice paragraph – even if clearly partisan – runs thus:

Yesterday, the veteran Labour MP Gerald Kaufman asked the Prime Minister to consider how these rioters can be “reclaimed” by society. Yes, this is indeed the same Gerald Kaufman who submitted a claim for three months’ expenses totalling £14,301.60, which included £8,865 for a Bang & Olufsen television.

(Even as I was tempted, ever so naughtily I suppose, to link the words “Bang & Olufsen television” to this site.)

As a commenter to Oborne’s article acerbically underlines:

“The moral decay of our society is as bad at the top as the bottom “

This comes as a surprise? You can be more easily ripped off by an MP grabbing expenses than by a rioter rifling Currys. The moral justification they both have is basically the same. “It was there. It wasn’t nailed down……so it’s MINE”. Innit!

So what our political class really must get its head round, if, as a nation we are to progress and learn from these riots, is that being responsible for something is a reality all leaders have to face up to – whether they are prepared to admit it, take it or deny it.  As the Spaniard Ramon y Cajal argued famously:

“Lo peor no es cometer un error, sino tratar de justificarlo …”

Which, loosely translated, means: “The worst you can do is not to make a mistake but, rather, try and defend it …”

The mettle of a leader lies in his or her willingness to learn, not in his or her ability to confound most of the people most of the time.  If David Cameron really wants to turn these circumstances to his advantage, he needs to do a lot more than push resonant phrases of condemnation out onto the airwaves.  He needs to learn from the disaster, take responsibility – as the highest authority in the land – and admit he has to rethink.

What he most certainly doesn’t want to do is to lead a political class recently accused of pecuniary sins into the hypocritical self-justifications of those who should not be the first to cast stones.

And above all, don’t shoot the Messenger, Dave!

Communication, not repression, is the key to getting Britain onside, onboard – and on its way again. If you begin to stop us feeling free to communicate, it’s not only the rioters you’ll stop in their tracks.  It’s entrepreneurs, makers and shakers, ordinary law-abiding people – and those who would otherwise support you.

The implications of the kind of state you propose, with the intermittent powers to interrupt all communication, and the permanent powers to duly monitor, will drive us all away from consensual policing into the hands of something quite different to everything we’ve cherished to date – something we’ve always harshly criticised other countries for.

If that’s what you want, then all well and good.  At least, from now on, we will know where you really stand.

Just be absolutely clear, before you engineer it, that it’s really what you and yours are going to want.

Because if you’re not clear about your intellectual baselines, and are more worried about your soundbites, you might find that instead of a properly and correctly policed state, what we end up with is actually an awfully shabby police state.

Of the kind which the Communists could only have dreamed of.

The kind which – if you’re not very careful – political history might end up concluding only you Mr Cameron could have jolly well dreamed up.