The EU in the Dock - Are you sure?

Put emotion to one side. Decide this case not on sympathy or antipathy but on the evidence. If there are any directions more honoured in the breach than observance than these I would like to know what they are. The reality is that separating emotion from reason is impossible and it is impossible because we are human. The best we can possibly hope to achieve is to be aware that we are bringing both emotion and reason to bear when we make decisions. And of course few decisions are more important than a jury’s verdict. When a jury decides correctly justice is vindicated when wrongly it miscarries. 

A jury’s verdict can dramatically affect the destiny of another or a few others. But a nation’s verdict affects the destiny of millions. On 23 June 2016 every one of us will be called to provide a verdict. Is the EU guilty of making our lives in Britain worse? Juries have to be sure before returning guilty verdicts. Messrs Farage, Gove, Johnson, Grayling are among the most prominent of those asking us to reject the EU as a failed experiment, as a brake on our prosperity, as a vast funnel for teeming hordes of unwanted immigrants and Islamic extremists. 

 

They are the prosecutors calling for what is the certainly the biggest verdict, at 36, of my lifetime. Where is the evidence? What is their appeal to reason? Certainly statistics have been bandied about by both sides, but how many can you cite, how sure are you of their accuracy and their provenance? 

 

One of the greatest virtues of jury trial in this country is that, correctly, it is in fact trial by judge and jury. Without the judge acting as an impartial umpire there would be no check on improper or underhand conduct by the advocates. Furthermore without the judge there would be nobody on hand to direct the jury and define the terms of the debate. Who is the judge in the EU Referendum? The answer is that there is none. Instead we as individuals must be judge and jury defining for ourselves what evidence to admit or exclude and what test to apply. What questions are you asking yourself about how you will determine this life changing decision? 

 

It is sometimes said about barristers that their entire lives become their jobs and many is the family member that has complained that a casual conversation has undesirably degenerated into a forensic cross-examination. However in the case of the EU Referendum I urge you to look on it as a prosecution of our membership of the EU. What exactly are the charges on the indictment, what evidence has been adduced by the proponents of Brexit, are they appealing to reason or to emotion alone? 

 

Most importantly are you sure? There is I would suggest some real irony in that our two most recent Lords Chancellor are spearheading this campaign. That is because the Lord Chancellor is the head of the judiciary. But neither Mr Grayling nor Mr Gove have ever practised as lawyers still less presided as judges. They have never sought to persuade a jury that they can be sure of guilt or directed a jury that they must be sure of guilt.

 

But that is the test, I respectfully suggest, that you should apply before making a decision that will affect your life, the lives of your family and of millions within this country and beyond.

Just dotty about totty

Here’s a test.  Are you a dad?  Do you have a daughter?  Do you have a pet name for your daughter?  Is that name Totty? I thought not.  What about other fathers’ daughters?

There are, of course, other  soubriquets with which to address an assistant editor of a national magazine: slag; slut; whore; darling; sweetie; and dear to name a few.  Where in that spectrum of familiarity totty falls is open to debate.  What should not be open to debate is that the best way of addressing someone with whom you have a solely professional connection is by their name.

Colonel Bob Stewart DSO MP is 66 and a Conservative politician.  Isabel Hardman is 29 and assistant editor of The Spectator and a columnist for The Daily Telegraph.  Miss Hardman reports on Twitter that on 11 April his opening gambit to her at an event was: ‘I want to talk to the totty.’ She did not name Mr Stewart but complained to the Whips and apparently an apology was forthcoming.  It was not long however before his name was reported prompting a storm of commentary with Gaby Hinsliff deploring his conduct in The Guardian and Isabel Oakeshott in The Daily Mail deploring hers.

Here’s another test.  The Queen; Margaret Thatcher; Theresa May; Samantha Cameron; and his commanding officer’s wife.  Which of these women do you think Mr Stewart would call totty to their face?

It is very easy to dismiss this as a generational thing; clumsy flirtation meeting stony ground or just frigid humourlessness.  It is easy because that is what society has always done.  But just because something has always happened does not make it right.

I remember when I was a pupil shadowing a barrister from Doughty Street Chambers in the Court of Appeal.  Returning in a taxi from the Royal Courts of Justice with his phenomenally clever legal researcher the cabbie pulled up with a cheery: ‘There you are young lady’.  This elicited the immediate response: ‘Thank you very much middle aged man’.  He was not being rude.  She was not being rude.  She was simply pointing out that if he was going to comment on her age she would comment on his.

For that reason some, with Miss Oakeshott prominent amongst them, feel that the better way for Miss Hardman to have handled the situation would have been with a witty retort and put down.  But not all people, men and women included, are confident meeting graceless condescension with a verbal stiletto or oral head butt.

I recently undertook training to become a pupil supervisor and was astonished in how many different ways it was possible to communicate the warning: Don’t have sex with your pupil.  Frankly it is embarrassing that such explicit advice needs to be imparted in the 21st century but some people are completely oblivious to professional boundaries and the spectacular imbalance of power that prevails between pupil and supervisor.  This applies as much in politics as it does in law.

In the final analysis, for me, Mr Stewart’s salutation is a simple example of bad manners and that is not conduct becoming an officer and a gentleman.

Talking 'bout a Velorution

When one’s job so often considers imprisonment, thinking about it, pleading about it if not, thankfully, experiencing it then it is perhaps no surprise that thoughts turn sometimes to freedom.  I don’t know when you feel most free but for me it is without question when in the saddle and I mean two wheels not four hooves. 

Few stop to think that even the most glorious cruise down a deserted Route 66 at 100 mph in a little red Corvette or whatever your wheels of choice still involves containment, still involves disconnection from the natural world and its rhythms.  And that of course assumes the best possible drive in the best possible car.  A second’s thought of the lurching reality of driving in Britain, in the rain, in a Corsa, on the Milton Keynes bypass haemorrhaging money on tax, insurance, MOT, petrol, parking, it’ll cost yer mechanics and the rest makes it a wonder that anyone could countenance car ownership.  And yet we remain resolutely wedded, welded almost to our cars, the blue skies above London occluded by an ever greying pall of acrid fumes. 

If the private motor car is the enemy of empathy, and any of the scores of road rage incidents occurring daily irrefutably proves that it is, then public transport should represent the happiest realisation of E.M. Forster’s maxim - Only Connect.  But instead we have the Tube aka the panic attack in (slow) motion.  No man is an island, never truer than on the London Underground where every man and woman congeals into one huge, bad tempered and malodorous land mass. 

Cycling remains the preserve of weirdos, the sanctimonious, the midlife crisis ridden, the masochists and me.  It is not without reason therefore that I balk at referring to myself, considering myself even, a cyclist.  And yet I am one and am convinced that if London is to be even tolerably habitable in the years to come that you should be one too. 

In my experience all objection to cycling by the able bodied reduces ineluctably to one or more of the Ss, of which there are three like the heads of Cerberus that must be slain: Safety, Sweat, and Style. 

Safety – The reason why the death of a cyclist makes headlines in the Evening Standard is because it is so rare an occurrence.  Not surprisingly however the notion of dying in the midst of so banal an act as your journey to work acts as a deterrent to many people.  If however those same many people took to their bikes they would not only come to understand how rare these tragedies are but the simple presence of thousands more bikes on the streets would militate against such tragedies occurring in the future.  You might unthinkingly swat one mosquito but you would give your full attention to a swarm of thousands.  This is just as true for lorry drivers as it is for you on your holiday in Spain. 

At long long last London is being made fit for every day, normal people to ride bicycles with miles of segregated lanes running from North to South and East to West.  I genuinely believe that this, in tandem with the Boris Bikes, will trigger London’s overdue ‘velorution’. 

Sweat – Contrary to what the Daily Mail would have you believe it is not necessary to wear Lycra when riding a bicycle.  Nor need you be a trained lout.  In fact in the Netherlands and Germany and other enlightened places people ride bicycles wearing perfectly normal clothes (as I am in the photograph above) because riding a bicycle is a perfectly normal thing to do.  If you walk gently you don’t perspire.  If you cycle gently, you also, don’t perspire.   

Style - When you drive a car the car is speaking for you.  And, in the main, what the car is saying is how much money you have.  Even if it’s a Corsa you have the money for a Corsa.  If it’s a Porsche, well, we all know what that is saying.  When you ride a bicycle you can wear what you like and present to the world whatever image you choose.  That is freedom right there.  In Holland nobody wears a helmet because people don’t drive like helmets and that is because everybody rides a bike. 

In summary riding a bike: 

•  Will make you live longer 

•  Will make you live happier 
•  Will make you live healthier
•  Will make you live sexier 

Justice & Forgiveness - The Prosecutors is essential viewing

Art like beauty is in the eye of the beholder but for me the best test of the quality of art is its nearness to truth.  By that analysis television is a vexed art form because truth is often difficult, sometimes messy, usually boring and rarely susceptible to tidy one hour packaging.  Reality TV is, of course, anything but.  But sometimes, through skill or serendipity, TV excels.  The three part BBC4 series 'The Prosecutors', providing a peek inside the machinery of the Crown Prosecution Service, commenced this week with a heartbreaking glimpse of truth.

I have followed the reaction of Criminal Justice System professionals who watched the programme and those who couldn’t bring themselves to watch it.  In the latter camp are those who anticipated that they would be unable to contain their feelings at a sanitised account of a functioning prosecution service glossing over the myriad problems which in reality bedevil the proper execution of justice.

Certainly Episode 1 did not suggest an organisation in crisis.  But even the most jaded practitioner could not claim that every single case handled by the CPS goes wrong.  Many many cases progress as they should and when they should.  Of course that should not conceal the fact that things do go wrong and, many would suggest, are going wrong a lot more often than they once did.  With that in mind it would be useful to know on what terms the CPS agreed to let the cameras in and what degree of editorial control has been exercised.

Making all due allowance for professional scepticism I think this is a series that needs to be watched and watched widely.  Episode 1 ‘The Charge’ focuses on two cases: an organised gang of ATM exploding bank thieves and a driving fatality case.  The former case carries a small frisson of heist film voyeurism but the latter case involves a truly exceptional woman.

On 16 September 2013 11 year old Flynn Morrissey, wearing a seatbelt, was being driven by his mother to school in Cheshire.  A Porsche driven by Hassan Maan collided head on with Flynn’s mother’s vehicle on her side of the road and Flynn was killed.  A perfectly ordinary day on which his life ended and hers and her family’s was changed forever.

Absolutely rightly a large part of the focus of the programme was on her and the gradual revelation of her extraordinary fortitude and magnanimity.  This was not a woman thirsting retribution.  This was a mother who naturally and urgently wanted to know what had caused her son’s death and who displayed remarkable forbearance that proceedings in the case only concluded on 13 February 2015.

Justice delayed is justice denied is a hollow cliché for most who practise in crime but for a bereaved witness like Flynn’s mother those long months between the tragedy of her son’s death and the resolution of the trial process must have been an agony of waiting.  I feel that this programme is required viewing because Flynn’s mother in plain speaking embodies the redemptive power of forgiveness inspired by pragmatism and a wish to do right by her son.

It is the duty of all of us, not just the prosecutors, to ensure that the Criminal Justice System does right by people like her.  Underlying many of the delays in the system is a lack of funding and I sincerely hope that the series does not conceal that truth.

But for the moment I am grateful for the strength of character of Flynn's mother that enabled her to share her truth with the viewing public.

The Women's Equality Party: What's in it for me?

On 14^th January I went to a 5x15 event at Methodist Central Hall presented by the Women's Equality Party.  It was the first major event since WEP’s launch in October 2015.  Speaking at the event were Caitlin Moran, Sophie Walker in conversation with Tanya Moodie, Rosie Boycott in conversation with Jo Brand, Catherine Mayer and Sandi Toksvig.  The capacity of Methodist Central Hall is 2,300.  It was full and I am sure could have sold out twice over. 

WEP’s central premise is that equality is better for everyone.  While there must be few that disagree with that as a notion there are sadly many who are not prepared to do much if anything to achieve it.  As Catherine Mayer said at the event and later wrote in the Evening Standard politicians are happy to talk the talk but not many walk the walk (Justin Trudeau an honourable exception).  The net effect is that the patriarchy endures not through active resistance to equality but by good intentions undone by inertia.  This is bad for women, it is bad for men, but worst of all, it's bad for children.

WEP has six objectives:

-       Equal Representation

-       Equal Pay & Opportunity

-       Equal Parenting & Caregiving

-       Equal Education

-       Equal Media Treatment

-       End Violence Against Women

A few moments’ thought surely brings the irresistible conclusion that in respect of each of those objectives we have a long way to go.  There are more male MPs in Parliament now than there have EVER been female MPs.  There are 7 women in the Cabinet of 22 Ministers.  This is the highest number ever and it is not even one third.  There is still, STILL, only one female Supreme Court judge as I months ago lamented.

People do not walk around slack-jawed in amazement because this supposedly represents progress.  But progress is not inevitable and the speed of it at times would make a sloth seem Boltish.  Progress requires actions not words.  WEP is a result of action by a formidable and commendable bunch of women and its aims will not be achieved without the continuing actions, large and small, of a great many other women AND men.

Two sage pieces of advice I recently saw for men inclined to self-identify as feminist are: first, listen don’t talk and second, when you do, talk more to men than women.  Feminism like WEP is a party to which men are invited but it is not our party.  It would be churlish and wrong to decline the invitation and there is the promise of an almighty good time for all but only if men don’t try to choose the caterers, venue, dress code and music.

Of course there has been criticism.  It’ll split the vote, it’s the narcissistic vanity project of white, middle class metropolitan Guardian readers with too much time on their hands, it’s bound to fail, why women’s equality why not just equality. 

All those criticisms can be rebutted.  If mainstream parties are not acting on their declared ambitions for promoting equality then they are failing those that want equality and do not deserve their vote.   WEP’s already 40,000 or so nationwide membership suggests an appeal and a hunger that reaches far beyond the borders of Islington.  It will only fail if we let it fail and to do so would be no indictment of Sandi Toksvig and her band but of us.  The very notion of equality encapsulates equal treatment and opportunity for all but it is self-evident that in so many ways it is still women who are being held back, belittled, beaten and bruised.

I sincerely hope WEP achieves its objectives and will lend it whatever support I can because I can find no fault with any one of its objectives and because it is a movement of hope looking for concrete change in a world which in some ways is not changing at all.

If you agree you can join here: http://www.womensequality.org.uk/join