Lucy Bannerman writes:
It is a midweek morning at Snaresbrook crown court, east London, and already there is fury and farce in court 9. The fury belongs to Judge Sandy Canavan; the farce comes courtesy of what should have been a straightforward sentencing hearing.
In the dock, William Pack, a slight, nervy 59-year-old man, is awaiting sentencing for having caused actual bodily harm to Misbah Sadique, 38, who was “run over by both wheels” of Pack’s car as he drove to the supermarket in Walthamstow in February last year.
But an important document — the victim impact statement, explaining how Sadique’s life was affected by the injuries she sustained — has only just materialised minutes before the sentencing, throwing a spanner in the works of a case that should have been completed by lunchtime.
The judge has spent months asking for this statement in repeated hearings so that the defence has a fair chance to respond. This time, she lets rip.
“The very thing I’ve tried to avoid has happened. Either I ignore the victim’s impact statement, or I adjourn, meaning the victim, Mr Pack and everybody else is inconvenienced. Ms Sadique will have to come back to court again to see what will happen to the man who ran her over.”
The following day, figures will reveal that the backlog of cases clogging up the crown courts is at a record high of almost 80,000.
However, the kind of basic inefficiency highlighted by Judge Canavan is only one of the reasons the British justice system is breaking.
It is a story of absence: not only of the documents that should have been shared, but have not; but also of the people who should be in court, but are not; the defendants who are absent because the prison van is delayed; the prosecutor who has not turned up; the empty seat where an interpreter should be.
Above all, it is the story of the courts that should be sitting but are not. Instead of justice being served, the lights are off and the doors are closed, leaving the accused, the aggrieved and everyone else to join the back of a lengthening queue.
Back in court 9, it is basic admin that is holding back Judge Canavan. “This is why the backlog cannot be dealt with,” she says. “I have set aside two and a half hours to deal with this sentencing this morning. Those two and a half hours are now wasted. Other cases I could have dealt with, I have not been able to put them on my list, because [the statement] I’ve been asking for since August has only been uploaded this morning. That’s a disgrace and the CPS [Crown Prosecution Service] should be ashamed of itself.”
(In response, the CPS said it made “significant efforts” to obtain the statement. Police say they had “difficulties” contacting Sadique.)
After much administrative bashing together of diaries, another date is found next year to do what everyone in the courtroom had all gathered to do that morning.
The judge announces a new and “final” date for the sentencing hearing — “I will not move it” — only to move it thirty seconds later when it emerges the defence barrister will not be available because he will be tied up on another case. (With one in three criminal barristers thinking of quitting the crown courts, for less stressful, better paid work elsewhere, they too complain of being overstretched.) Pack’s next hearing is scheduled for February, two years, almost to the day, since the offence.
“More waiting,” weeps his elderly mother, hanky in one hand, walking stick in the other. “It has been two years! It’s ridiculous.”
Two years sits at the lesser end of the scale. In March, another judge at Snaresbrook made headlines when he apologised to a defendant accused of threatening people with a machete because his three-day trial could not be scheduled until October 2028. Other courts, such as Isleworth, in west London, are fixing trials as far into the future as 2030.
Judge Canavan asks an usher to “offer the court’s apologies” to the victim who is waiting outside, but make clear it’s not the court’s fault, or the defence’s fault, but the fault of the CPS and police”.
“Well,” she sighs, another morning wasted. “There’s nothing I can do.” She adjourns the court, with the disdain usually reserved for a puppy that has urinated on a new carpet: “Please don’t keep me company. All of you can go.”
Over in court 11, Brenna Wilson, an alleged shoplifter accused of actual bodily harm, has failed to turn up to court for the third time. She is accused of a series of violent offences, including biting a security guard in a north London branch of Marks & Spencer and threatening to infect him with HIV. The police officer has not turned up either. “This lady needs to be arrested,” said Judge Charles Falk, unable to take any further action. “[She] must not be left at large.”
In court 5, Judge Oscar Del Fabbro appears frustrated by the lack of progress in the case of a young Turkish man accused of sexual assault. In the first hearing, the defence counsel failed to appear. In the second, the interpreter has not turned up.
“We’re no further forward today in making progress,” he sighs. “I know things are tough out there, but this is not a good example of expedition.”
At least these courts are sitting. In other courts around the building, there is a much bigger problem, and the clue is in how eerily quiet it is. Snaresbrook is the largest crown court in the UK. Its 20 courts should be dealing with the vast range of cases, from shoplifting to terrorism, arising from an area of Greater London with a population of 4.3 million.
In the face of this gargantuan backlog, you might imagine it would feel like an overcrowded airport after a series of flight cancellations, with lots of staff working round the clock to push delayed passengers through the bottleneck and out to the other side. It does not. On one day, five of the 20 courts were sitting empty because there is not the budget to keep them open. What should be the busiest crown court in the country is being forced to run at reduced capacity.
There are enough crown courts across England and Wales to sit for 113,000 days each year. However, the “sitting days” were artificially capped at 105,000 in September last year to balance the Ministry of Justice budget. Judges will be allowed to sit for more days next year — 111,250 — but still short of the maximum capacity.
Baroness Carr of Walton-on-the-Hill, the head of the judiciary, has warned that these closures will end up costing more in the long run when cases are delayed, “because inflation will mean that everything costs more and because barristers and the CPS will have to redo the work they had done to be ready for trial, because the case will be stale”.
Ironically, on the same day Judge Canavan was venting about inefficiency, the whole of Snaresbrook crown court shut for the afternoon. Fifteen courts sat for the morning only. “Staff Christmas lunch”, according to sources.
The building itself, formerly a Victorian orphanage, may look neglected, but does not appear to be suffering dilapidation on quite the same scale that has bedevilled other court buildings around the country, such as the maggots raining down from rotting seagulls in the roof insulation of South Tyneside magistrates’ court, or the leaking roof at Inner London crown court, or the rat infestation at Manchester magistrates’ court.
Still, safe drinking water appears to be a luxury too far. The lawyers’ canteen upstairs has been mothballed. When the upset victim in a stalking case tried to get refreshments in the afternoon, after discovering her stalker would be spared jail, and would pay her compensation of only £500, she found none. The café was only open in the morning. “There’s not even a vending machine,” complained her daughter.
On another occasion, staff advised against drinking anything from the network of old water pipes. “I would not touch that water,” said one. “We don’t trust anything that comes out of those taps.”
Reacting to the record backlog this week, David Lammy, the justice secretary, said: “The scale of this crisis means tinkering at the edges is not enough. We simply cannot spend our way out of this mess — only fundamental reform can give the brave survivors of crime fairer and faster justice.”
Lammy believes that replacing many jury trials with judge-only trials will speed things up. The Criminal Bar Association, representing barristers, dismissed the policy as “dramatic gestures that pose as solutions”.
Riel Karmy-Jones KC, its chair, said: “We don’t need gimmicks. We need courtrooms that function.”
Lammy’s opponents may also point to the fact that, of the many things causing paralysis in dozens of cases at Snaresbrook this month, none of them were juries.
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