The toxicity of the two-tier justice system

One of the worst things about prison is the rules. Before I was sentenced, I had imagined prison to be a rigid, structured, disciplined environment where violations would be punished without fear or favor. The reality is much, much worse. In our prisons, rules are often arbitrarily enforced or not enforced at all. There is a two-tier system. A favored prisoner may be allowed to disregard rules, while one who is considered difficult or challenging will face consequences and sanctions. Some rules are simply ignored. During my time in Wandsworth, the smell of spices or cannabis often wafted from the cells into the corridors where the prison guards stood. They did nothing. It is easier to leave a prisoner in a state of stupor than to go through the hassle of a cell search. Now, four years later, the British prison inspector reports exactly the same behavior.

This lawless culture, where rules matter less than the person, is extremely toxic. It teaches prisoners that rules and laws are not objective norms of behavior, but rather tools of the powerful to harm those they don't like and protect those they favor. Sobanan Narenthiran, a former medical student who was incarcerated for drug offenses and now runs Breakthrough Social Enterprise, told me about an incident in which a man failed a drug test but was able to avoid punishment because “he was seen as someone from a good background.” This system ensures that many prisoners leave prison with even less respect for society's rules. I fear that with our responses to the recent unrest, we risk creating the same toxic culture outside prison walls.

The law should be clear, consistent and understandable to everyone. Unfortunately, it often isn't. Just as prison guards ignore obvious drug use, the British state has effectively stopped enforcing whole areas of the law. Only 6.4 percent of all crimes result in a charge. Over 73 percent of all domestic burglary investigations are closed because no suspect can be identified, despite police pledging to be on the scene at every incident. In practice, this means that in half the country, police solve zero burglaries. At the same time, almost 84 percent of all car thefts are solved without a suspect being identified. Even in cases of shoplifting, where security guards and CCTV make the police's job much easier, only 16.4 percent of crimes result in a charge. It often seems that police are faster and more effective at prosecuting violations of online freedom of expression than at dealing with crimes that cause direct and immediate harm to victims.

The laws surrounding online expression seem particularly unclear, especially since the introduction of the Online Safety Act, which created a new offence: “sending false information with the intent to cause not insignificant harm”. As Douglas Murray wrote last week, laws seem to be enforced depending on the person’s power, status and proximity to the regime’s values. A woman who spread false information about the identity of the Southport killer was arrested. Meanwhile, Nick Lowles of Hope Not Hate tweeted to his 42,000 followers a claim, later proven false, that a Muslim woman had been attacked with acid. As far as we know, Nick apparently received no sanctions or contact with the police for this, presumably because he said he believed the information to be true. Lowles later apologised after police denied the attack.

Twenty-nine people have currently been charged with online offenses related to the riots.

Even in cases of offline speech, the law seems dangerously unclear. I cannot understand why calling on a crowd to “beat a terf” is not illegal, but silent prayer can be banned within 150 metres of an abortion clinic. Charges against four men who apparently “drove down Finchley Road with someone on loudspeakers calling for the death of Jews and the rape of their daughters” were dropped because prosecutors saw no realistic prospect of conviction because they could not prove who had made the comments in question. Tyler Kay, a man who tweeted “Mass deportations now, set fire to all the f***ing hotels full of bastards for all I care… if that makes me a racist then so be it”, was sentenced to 38 months in prison.

The judge in the case made it clear that “the facts of the case are made significantly more difficult by the timing of the incident and the sensitive social climate.” This is no way to run a legal system. If we want to criminalize expression, it must be consistent. A particular form of expression cannot be illegal one day and legal the next, depending on what is happening in the news.

The belief in a two-tier police system, often expressed during and after the unrest, is dangerous. When people no longer believe that all communities and groups are treated equally, more unrest can result. And when charges and sentences deviate from what is considered fair and in line with public priorities, trust in the justice system can completely break down.