(2 days, 12 hours ago)
Lords ChamberMy Lords, my noble friend Lord Hailsham’s second point illustrates his first point: if there is no purposeful activity available, how can one enforce the denial of an early release by virtue of a person’s failure to comply with a purposeful activity?
I want, briefly, to go back to the late and much lamented Lord Ramsbotham. In his book about prisons, which I know the Minister will have read many times, he said that the three things that will reduce repeat offending are that a prisoner, on release, should have a place to live, should be able to return to a loving relationship and should have a job. I took that very much on board when I wrote a paper nearly 20 years ago entitled Prisons with a Purpose. I wrote it when I was the shadow Prisons Minister, in the days when my noble friend Lord Cameron was the leader of the Opposition.
I visited about 75 prisons, young offender institutions and secure training units during that time. One of the things that struck me was that there were some wonderful examples of purposeful activity going on in a number of prisons but, as my noble friend Lady Neville-Rolfe has pointed out, it very much depended on the leadership of the prison. If you had an inadequate governor, you had an inadequate regime within the prison, particularly within the education and training sections of that prison.
I have made a few visits to a number of detention centres and I remember being taken with great pride by the governor on duty to a workshop in a great big shed in a West Midlands category C prison. I will not name it, because things may well have changed by now. In the workshop were adult men aged between 21 and goodness knows what, and they were making hairnets. I have absolutely no doubt that there is a market somewhere for hairnets. But I equally had no doubt then, and have no doubt now, that the prisoners in those workshops, having been released, would never go to work in a hairnet factory. So, it was just time filling.
I went to another prison in Wales, where I saw male adult prisoners sorting blue plastic bits from green plastic bits and putting the blue ones in one tray and the green ones in the other tray. They were apparently parts of some electrical connection system. Again, these are the sorts of activities that would achieve nothing in so far as Lord Ramsbotham’s provisos were to be complied with.
I went to an open prison in the south of England where, far from the prison, prisoners and prison officers taking advantage of the farmland and market garden within their premises, now long closed of course, I found men playing cards behind the wheelbarrow sheds—and who else was in the card game but a couple of prison officers? Again, this is just time filling.
The problem is further exacerbated by prisoner churn. If you are sentenced in, say, Canterbury Crown Court and are sent to Canterbury prison that evening, within a few days or weeks you will be transferred to Maidstone prison to allow others to come in. Maidstone prison will be receiving prisoners from Maidstone Crown Court. The Canterbury prisoners who have been moved to Maidstone will be required to move to Lewes, then from Lewes to Southampton, and from Southampton to Winchester. So there is, metaphorically speaking, a jumbo jet of prisoners moving around the prison estate. How can they do any sensible activity? How can they go on any sensible course if, having barely started it, they are then moved to another prison?
I am happy to advertise on behalf of Timpson. I have seen a number of its workshops in operation in prisons up and down this country, and I have been served in shops by graduates of the Timpson in-house system in prisons. There, people are learning a real job that can translate from inside prison to the high street. They can go out and earn a living, pay their rent and taxes, and look after their dependants. That is the sort of work we need to see done, and more of it, in prisons.
That is why I wholly applaud Amendments 65 and 67, tabled by my noble friend Lord Hailsham: they hit the nail on the head. If we do not have real, genuinely purposeful, activity in prisons, the whole thing is a sham, and you will get repeat offenders coming in and out like a revolving door, and the prison population will simply grow and grow.
So, whether we vote on this or not, it is absolutely essential that the Government get a grip on the way in which training and education are dealt with in our prisons. I know of course that the Minister knows this personally—he has known this for 30 years—but lots of people in government do not, and lots of people at the Treasury do not, either. They do not seem to realise that by reinforcing failure—junk in, junk out—all you are doing is wasting the public’s taxes and not producing one ounce of public safety.
(2 years, 6 months ago)
Lords ChamberMy Lords, as the noble Lord, Lord Clement-Jones, said, this is a very broad group, so I hope noble Lords will forgive me if I do not comment on every amendment in it. However, I have a great deal of sympathy for the case put forward by my noble friend Lady Buscombe and my noble and learned friend Lord Garnier. The addition of the word “financial” to Clause 160 is not only merited on the case made but is a practical and feasible thing to do in a way that the current inclusion of the phrase “non-trivial psychological” is not. After all, a financial loss can be measured and we know how it stands. I will also say that I have a great deal of sympathy with what the noble Lord, Lord Clement-Jones, said about his amendment. In so far as I understand them—I appreciate that they have not yet been spoken to—I am also sympathetic to the amendments in the names of the noble Baroness, Lady Kennedy of The Shaws, and the noble Lord, Lord Allan of Hallam.
I turn to my Amendment 265, which removes the word “psychological” from this clause. We have debated this already, in relation to other amendments, so I am going to be fairly brief about it. Probably through an oversight of mine, this amendment has wandered into the wrong group. I am going to say simply that it is still a very, very good idea and I hope that my noble friend, when he comes to reflect on your Lordships’ Committee as a whole, will take that into account and respond appropriately. Instead, I am going to focus my remarks on the two notices I have given about whether Clauses 160 and 161 should stand part of the Bill; Clause 161 is merely consequential on Clause 160, so the meat is whether Clause 160 should stand part of the Bill.
I was a curious child, and when I was learning the Ten Commandments—I am sorry to see the right reverend Prelate has left because I hoped to impress him with this—I was very curious as to why they were all sins, but some of them were crimes and others were not. I could not quite work out why this was; murder is a crime but lying is not a crime—and I am not sure that at that stage I understood what adultery was. In fact, lying can be a crime, of course, if you undertake deception with intent to defraud, and if you impersonate a policeman, you are lying and committing a crime, as I understand it—there are better-qualified noble Lords than me to comment on that. However, lying in general has never been a crime, until we get to this Bill, because for the first time this Bill makes lying in general—that is, the making of statements you know to be false—a crime. Admittedly, it is a crime dependent on the mode of transmission: it has to be online. It will not be a crime if I simply tell a lie to my noble and learned friend Lord Garnier, for example, but if I do it online, any form of statement which is not true, and I know not to be true, becomes a criminal act. This is really unprecedented and has a potentially chilling effect on free speech. It certainly seems to be right that, in your Lordships’ Committee, the Government should be called to explain what they think they are doing, because this is a very portentous matter.
The Bill states that a person commits the false communications offence if they send a message that they know to be false, if they intend the message to cause a degree of harm of a non-trivial psychological or physical character, and if they have no reasonable excuse for sending the message. Free speech requires that one should be allowed to make false statements, so this needs to be justified. The wording of the offence raises substantial practical issues. How is a court meant to judge what a person knows to be false? How is a committee of the House of Commons meant to judge, uncontroversially, what a person knows to be false at the time they say it? I say again: what is non-trivial psychological harm and what constitutes an excuse? None of these things is actually defined; please do not tell me they are going to be defined by Ofcom—I would not like to hear that. This can lead to astonishing inconsistency in the courts and the misapplication of criminal penalties against people who are expressing views as they might well be entitled to do.
Then there is the question of the audience, because the likely audience is not just the person to whom the false statement is directed but could be anybody who subsequently encounters the message. How on earth is one going to have any control over how that message travels through the byways and highways of the online world and be able to say that one had some sense of who it was going to reach and what non-trivial psychological harm it might cause when it reached them?
We are talking about this as if this criminal matter is going to be dealt with by the courts. What makes this whole clause even more disturbing is that in the vast majority of cases, these offences will never reach the courts, because there is going to be, inevitably, an interaction with the illegal content duties in the Bill. By definition, these statements will be illegal content, and the platforms have obligations under the Bill to remove and take down illegal content when they become aware of it. So, the platform is going to have to make some sort of decision about not only the truth of the statement but whether the person knows what the statement is, that the statement is false and what their intention is. Under the existing definition of illegal content, they will be required to remove anything they reasonably believe is likely to be false and to prevent it spreading further, because the consequences of it, in terms of the harm it might do, are incalculable by them at that point.
We are placing a huge power of censorship—and mandating it—on to the platforms, which is one of the things that some of us in this Committee have been very keen to resist. Just exploring those few points, I think my noble friend really has to explain what he thinks this clause is doing, how it is operable and what its consequences are going to be for free speech and censorship. As it stands, it seems to me unworkable and dangerous.
Does my noble friend agree with me that our courts are constantly looking into the state of mind of individuals to see whether they are lying? They look at what they have said, what they have done and what they know. They can draw an inference based on the evidence in front of them about whether the person is dishonest. This is the daily bread and butter of court. I appreciate the points he is making but, if I may say so, he needs to dial back slightly his apoplexy. Underlying this is a case to be made in justice to protect the innocent.
I did not say that it would be impossible for a court to do this; I said it was likely to lead to high levels of inconsistency. We are dealing with what is likely to be very specialist cases. You can imagine this in the context of people feeling non-trivially psychologically harmed by statements about gender, climate, veganism, and so forth. These are the things where you see this happening. The idea that there is going to be consistency across the courts in dealing with these issues is, I think, very unlikely. It will indeed have a chilling effect on people being able to express views that may be controversial but are still valid in an open society.