GEORGE ORWELL SUPPOSEDLY said that, in times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.
I know that Inspector Gadget isn’t all that popular with everyone – when his blog was in full flow, he was threatened with everything from exposure to death, and they certainly made serious attempts at the former.
The Home Office and the various police forces have been stuffed at the higher echelons with careerist yes men and women, liars and charlatans for as long as I can remember.
At a time when the criminal justice system is perpetrating a giant deceit on us all, these three brave police officers risked the loss of their careers (and by extension their homes) to tell the truth about fiddled crime figures, bureaucracy and mismanagement.
Allowing us to publish those books was a revolutionary act.
Indeed, we nearly called Gadget’s book The Universal Deceit, and here was the draft jacket:
They did it partly because they were bewildered and insulted that senior officers could spout self-serving lies and dishonesty to their faces, and partly because they are (were, in Copperfield’s case) at the sharp end of having to explain to the victims of crime exactly why it is that the police don’t always provide the best possible service.
Allowing for the idlers and incompetents found in every organisation, it’s generally not because the people at that sharp end don’t want to.
The following extract is from Inspector Gadget’s book Perverting The Course Of Justice (book here, kindle version here, it is still available!), and it is particularly apt as we head into the Christmas period – a time, for most bobbies, of aggressive texts, Facebook threats, and drunken brawls.
And it’s even worse when they go on duty.
LOTS OF PEOPLE probably don’t quite understand the words ‘crime’ and ‘detection’, and the role they play in modern policing.
That’s not surprising, because what they mean in reality and what they mean in surreality – ie modern policing – are often two completely different things.
In real life, a crime means something which we would all agree is against the law – theft, assault, burglary – and has an actual victim who has really suffered some harm.
In policing, a ‘crime’ – because of the ‘victim-focused’ National Crime Recording Standard I mentioned earlier – can mean, in practice, almost anything which half sounds like it might possibly be a bit like a crime and which is reported to us. (Because who are we to tell Mr Hughes that his ex’s nasty text message isn’t a crime?)
Here is one example of a non-crime taken seriously by us.
It’s late one afternoon in the middle of last December. The Christmas lights are ablaze on every house in Bigtown, and the concrete walkway outside the local Spar is covered in fresh white litter. Inside, there’s a queue of people waiting to pay for their groceries. Halfway down the line, a little girl and her mum are chatting about Santa Claus, and the presents he will be delivering in a fortnight.
In front of them is a typical Bigtown youth – Burberry scarf, Nike trainers, NY Yankees cap and a ton of bling.
Overhearing their conversation, he turns round, looks at the girl and says, ‘You don’t believe in Father Christmas, do ya? Your mum’s telling you lies… he ain’t real.’
The little girl bursts into tears and the angry mum storms out of the shop.
I like to think that, if that happened to me, I’d tell my daughter that the nasty man was talking rubbish, and chalk it up to experience.
But modern life being what it is, mum doesn’t do this; instead, she phones us on her mobile from the street outside, like it’s a police matter.
OK, so we get a call from a lady wanting to report a Santa denier.
We just tell her we’re awfully sorry but it’s not really one for us, right?
Wrong. The call-taker logs it on the system as a harassment offence.
We all know that if the woman had been calling to report a criminal damage that had happened the night before she’d have got someone out a week next Tuesday.
But because certain triggers are hit – there’s a child involved, this area happens to be a crime hotspot and the man is still at the scene – a patrol is despatched immediately, to speak to the mum and little girl and, if possible, grab the ‘offender’ and even seize the CCTV to see if they can ID him.
To me, that’s just about as mad as it gets. Is it, even at the edges of abstract technicality, a crime? Harassment is about causing alarm or distress to another.
As a senior officer asked in the SMT morning meeting, ‘How can it be harassment to tell someone Santa doesn’t exist? I mean, he doesn’t. Does he?’
He’s got a point. Short of producing Santa himself at an ID parade and proving he’s real, the case is going nowhere.
But time and resources have been wasted in a fairly ludicrous way.
Here’s another one.
Two young lads outside a newsagent. One, a 10-year-old, goes in and buys a packet of crisps. Walkers, salt and vinegar I believe. When he comes back out and opens the packet, his 11-year-old chum swoops on him, sticks a fist into the bag and legs it down the road, cackling in glee with a handful of crisps.
The first boy tells his mum and, yes, she calls us.
The ‘thief’ is questioned but – horror of horrors – he denies it.
This causes our whole system to collapse, because we’re all about getting people to cough to minor offences and accept cautions for them to make detections.
Where do we go from here?
ID parades with witnesses from the scene who saw the boy make off with the crisps?
Thankfully, there is some residual common sense in the police, and the case eventually got ‘no-crimed’ – but not before hours of police time was wasted, and only after submissions in triplicate to the crime auditors to get them to wipe it off the computer.
These aren’t isolated cases. Here are a few others from the papers recently:
– A man ‘found in possession of an egg with intent to throw’.
– A child who removed a slice of cucumber from a sandwich and threw it at another youngster.
– A woman arrested (on her wedding day) for criminal damage after her foot slipped on the accelerator and her vehicle damaged a car park barrier.
– Another child who threw cream buns at a bus.
– A 70-year-old pensioner arrested for criminal damage after cutting back a neighbour’s conifer trees.
– A man who threw a glass of water over his girlfriend.
I didn’t make any of these up. Anti-social, yes, and in some cases maybe we ought to have a quiet word with the people involved. But are they really ‘crimes’?
Once someone reports them to us as such, and the call-taker enters them onto our computer databases as such, then, yes, they are.
So that’s ‘crime’. What’s a ‘detection’?
You perhaps think this refers to a mechanism whereby the person responsible for a crime, real or surreal, is caught and punished for it.
In fact, it may just mean that a suspect has been charged* – he doesn’t have to be found guilty. Equally, he may have been cautioned, or reported for summons, or been issued with a Penalty Notice for Disorder, or the offence may have been taken into consideration when he is sentenced for other matters.
What are the implications of all of this?
They are many and varied.
Firstly, all of a sudden anyone who has been looked at a bit funny can ring the police and demand a response.
Secondly, this will mean one extra recorded crime on the force’s figures (eg ‘harassment’ for looking at someone funny).
Thirdly, we can’t just ignore them. Under NCRS, we mostly have to take them seriously, which is just one reason why it takes us three days to show up for your burglary. Plus lots of undetected ‘crimes’ make Chief Constables look bad, and worry the Home Secretary, so they have to be detected with a response that is bureaucratic and slow and will take officers off the street for hours.
Fourthly, a boy who throws a piece of cucumber at a classmate may feel under pressure to accept a caution – and a permanent entry on his criminal record. This may affect his chances of employment later in life. (Though at the rate we’re criminalising the population, it won’t be long before pretty much everyone has a record, and it’s weird if you haven’t.)
Finally, in many forces, each officer now has an individual ‘Detection Target’. If he or she does not hit this target, he or she will end up with an ‘Action Plan’ on his or her Annual Appraisal. This is essentially a negative statement on your file, which can exclude you from an interview for a specialisation or promotion at the ‘paper-sift’ stage. Helping old ladies across the road, diving into swollen rivers to rescue drowning people and preventing or deterring crime from happening in the first place – none of these count against your individual target.
Of the above implications, the only one that really matters is our figures for undetected crimes. That’s because these are the only ones that affect senior police officers and politicians.
It doesn’t matter that bobbies might be so tied up looking for youths who don’t believe in Father Christmas that they can’t come out when you’re assaulted, because senior cops and MPs don’t very often get assaulted. If the young salt and vinegar crisps thief gets a criminal record, that doesn’t matter either, because who cares? And neither does the systematic degradation of what was once a force into a ‘service’ that often only seems to serve the non-contributory members of society, because if the Chief Constable or the Lord Chief Justice or The Right Honourable Jacqui Smith MP has a gang of rowdy youths hanging around outside late at night, you can bet there’ll be a rapid and forceful response to that. (Though remember, Jacqui, that you were once a humble schoolteacher, and you won’t be Home Secretary for ever.)
PC David Copperfield was the first to break ranks and tell people about this nonsense. Since then, there have been lots of noises about how it’s all going to change, and they’re going to slash bureaucracy and cut targets. Well, it hasn’t happened yet, and I’ll believe it when I see it.
Incidentally, the crisps theft was not a lone incident.
There were 500 similar thefts, of ‘nominal value under £1’, across my force in the past six months.
What are these £1 thefts?
Well, this might explain some of them: If your credit card is nicked and used, and the guy who stole it is later arrested with it still on him, this presents us with an opportunity. How about if the police crime this twice?
Once for the deception involved in using it to buy alloy rims for his Vauxhall Corsa, and once for the theft of the actual piece of plastic, nominal value under £1.
So some copper calls you up. ‘Mr Smith, isn’t it great? We got the guy who nicked your card. We’re talking to the bank about the loss of the money, and we also want to deal with him for the card itself. Can we just come and take a quick statement from you?’
This is called a ‘Loser’s Statement’ – it’s designed to head off a defence in court that you are the thief’s best mate and you always let him use your card.
You say, ‘Yep, no problem’, and the Old Bill nip round. Result: the theft of the credit card itself is detected and the crime figures for theft look a little better. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether we’d bother criming the theft of the card if we hadn’t actually already recovered it.
*The reason we’re judged on ‘detections’ and not the outcome of a case at court is that the police have no real influence over what some crazy buffoon of a magistrate decides to do, and no control over a jury in Crown Court. All we can really do is influence the investigation. Though in many cases we can’t really do that either – witnesses decide not to give evidence because they are a friend of the accused, or victims (often women in DV cases) are frightened to assist in prosecutions.