Legal Aid Reforms - making 'One law for the rich' official government policy.

It's not about him.

Yesterday I was on both The Now Show and my high horse, talking about Legal Aid reforms. It will be repeated on BBC Radio 4 at 12.30 today, and after that it will be available on iplayer here for a week, and on the Friday Night Comedy podcast.




Here is a transcript of the piece, including a couple of extra bits that didn't make the edit.

JOHN

Look, I know the government have to make cuts. I wish they weren’t quite so relentlessly targeted at the poorest and most vulnerable members of society; and it would be nice if while enacting them certain ministers could try to look a little less obviously like they’re having the time of their lives, but I get they have to happen somewhere, and it’s naïve to object to them all.


So, when you hear this week that the government are making cuts to legal aid without going through parliament, and lawyers and judges are protesting them, there’s a bit of a temptation to go… do you know, I might sit this one out. I mean, it sounds really complicated, and quite boring, and, hey, at least they’re sticking it to the lawyers! We all hate lawyers, don’t we, for some reason. Bloody lawyers. With their wigs, and their… laws. Boo.

And sure enough, these reforms certainly do hurt lawyers, albeit mainly high street solicitors and legal aid firms, which even if you do go along with the ‘all lawyers are blood-sucking vampires’ line is like Van Helsing starting off by going after Count Duckula. But it turns out the other people the reforms really hurt are- well I never- the poorest and most vulnerable members of society. Wow, the government have really a bee in their bonnet about those guys, don’t they? It’s like they’re their nemesis or something…


HUGH
Ah, the poorest and most vulnerable members of society, we meet again. But this time… the advantage is mine! And indeed it was last time, and every time. Anyway, brace yourself, here comes a kicking!


JOHN
And the nature of this particular kicking is this:


First, Legal Aid will have an eligibility threshold of thirty seven and a half thousand pounds. To be fair, that doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world. And I can be confident about that, because right there next to it, as if deliberately placed for purposes of comparison, are two of the worst ideas in the world. One. Defendants will no longer have the right to choose their own lawyer. Two. Legal Aid contracts will be awarded, on the basis of price competitive tender, ie who’s cheapest, to private companies. Like Tesco and Eddie Stobart. You know, the lorry guy. Though I’m sure he’s also an excellent lawyer.

So, instead of you picking a solicitor on the basis of how well you think they’ll represent you, the new plan is that the government will choose one for you, on the basis of how cheap they are. And they will be very cheap indeed – a minimum of 17.5% below current rates, but of course with competitive tendering, it’s all about how low can you go… the floor’s the limit! You might almost wonder whether this could affect the quality of the representation in any way at all. But the government assure us it will not, and of course they’re right. We all know from our own lives that the cheaper you go, the more the quality stays exactly the same. But just out of curiosity, how do they intend to ensure quality? Well, Chris Grayling, Minister for Justice and dispenser of none, has given a clear and simple answer- he doesn’t know. Not yet. That’s one of the things they’ll work out now they’ve had the consultation. But they’ve worked out what they want to do, and precisely how much money they know it’ll save, somehow – that’s the important thing, surely? They can fill in the boring ‘how the hell will it work’ stuff later.


And hey, at least now you won't have to worry about choosing a solicitor, or be able to. No, even though everywhere else the government is obsessed with getting us to choose - choose our doctor, our school, our hospital - when it comes to poor people who’ve been arrested, suddenly Daddy knows best. Never mind if you don’t trust the solicitor you’ve been given, or if you have a mental illness your regular solicitor understands, or if you’re an ex serving soldier, hoping to use one of the firms which exist now – but won’t for much longer – that specialise in your circumstances. No, whatever your situation, you’ll be just be given some bloke from Eddie Stobart Lawyers the government thinks is best, and like it. And by ‘best’, I literally mean ‘cheapest’. Sir Anthony Hooper, a former court of appeal judge, put the ex-soldier example to Tory MP Bob Neill on the Today Programme. Mr Neill responded:


STEVE
"Well, that relates to a tiny minority of cases…"


JOHN
Oh, no Bob! No! That’s not the argument I want to hear you make. I want to hear how these plans won’t result in people being denied a fair trial, not how there won’t be all that many of them, so hey ho.  To be fair, Mr Neill eventually went say he thought such a case would be ‘picked up’. He didn’t explain how, or by whom. Roving bands of soldier detectors? The benevolent hand of God? Who knows. He just sort of thought it would probably all be alright. And anyway, he had more pressing concerns.  He went on to say:


STEVE
"I don’t actually think the public reckons it should be paying for repeat offenders going back to their regular solicitors."


JOHN
Yeah, well, he’s right. I only want to pay for solicitors for the innocent ones. Is there a way I can do that? An opt out box on my tax form or something?


That is what these changes absolutely reek of – the sense of, well, they’ve been arrested, and they’re too poor to pay a lawyer... they probably did it. Or if they didn’t do that, they probably did something. Wouldn’t be in court otherwise. Stands to reason, dunnit?


Particularly if you compound your mistake by wilfully being foreign. Another nasty little amendment is that legal aid will now only be available if you’re not only legally resident in Britain, but have lived here for at least twelve months. And if you haven’t, or you have but can’t prove it, because for instance you’ve fled from your abusive husband’s house, then no domestic abuse trial for you, my funny foreign friend. Should have thought of that before you decided to be not from round here.


So far, so depressing. But here’s the part that for me lifts it out from merely misguided and mean to absolutely ridiculous, and a bit evil.  The bargain basement Eddie Stobart legal aid lawyers will be paid a flat fee, regardless of results, and best of all, regardless of whether the client pleads Guilty, which is quick and cheap, or Not Guilty, which is not. Yes. Chris Grayling has actually created a system where privately run legal aid firms – legal aid firms – have a direct financial incentive to persuade their clients to plead guilty. Whilst simultaneously being under enormous pressure to slash costs to the bone in order to put in a tender low enough to keep the contract.


Meanwhile, the career crims who annoy Mr Neill so much tend to trust that 'regular solicitor' of theirs, and take their advice if they suggest they’d be better off pleading guilty. But they’re certainly not going to take that advice from Eddie McTesco in his My First Lawyer costume, so they’ll start pleading Not Guilty to everything.

So well done, Chris Grayling, you’ve pulled off the double. Innocent people encouraged to plead Guilty; guilty people to plead Not Guilty. What a merry madcap world of misrule you have created, Mr Grayling, you absolute tit.


This reform will surely lead to a certain number of innocent people going to prison because they’re scared and vulnerable, and their solicitor, with one eye on the meter, advises them they’ll get a shorter sentence that way. How large does that number have to be before it’s not worth the savings?


So, if you think this might, after all, not be the one to sit out, there is an e-petition on the Government’s website called Save UK Justice. It’s on 80,000 signatures; if it gets to 100,000 there is a chance that this radical and malignant change to the nature of the British justice system will actually get to be discussed in, of all places, parliament. Thank you.



LINKS


The Ministry of Justice's outline of their plans
Law Gazette interview with Chris Grayling 
Today Programme interview with Sir Anthony Hooper and Bob Neill MP 
Interesting blog on the subject 
The petition for this to be debated in the House of Commons 

...and taller than her five feet and six inches would have you believe.

Character description in a script breakdown:


'Naomi is older than her 21 years suggest.' 


Is she really? That's a good trick. How much older? Eleven months? 

Hail to the Foo Foo.

Air Chief Marshal is a military rank in the air forces of several countries, including Great Britain. It is a four star rank, equivalent in seniority to a General in the Army, or an Admiral in the Navy. Thailand, apparently, has two currently serving Air Chief Marshals: Air Chief Marshal Itthaporn Subhawong, the 21st commander-in-chief of the Royal Thai Air Force, who looks like this:

...and Air Chief Marshal Foo Foo, who looks like this:

The second of the country's Air Chief Marshals - well, I say that; I don't actually know which of them has superiority over the other - is a miniature poodle belonging to the Crown Prince of Thailand. This is according to one of the Wikileaks cables, in this case from former US ambassador Ralph Boyce, who went on to describe his own leaving do: 

“Foo Foo was present at the event, dressed in formal evening attire complete with paw mitts, and at one point during the band’s second number, he jumped up on to the head table and began lapping from the guests’ water glasses, including my own. The Air Chief Marshal’s antics drew the full attention of the 600-plus audience members, and remains the talk of the town to this day.”

Foo Foo has, in fact, previously been in the news: in 2009, when a video leaked of a lavish birthday party the Prince threw for him, during which he required his wife, Her Royal Highness Princess Consort Srirasmi, to be topless throughout.

It is a crime in Thailand to make any criticism of the actions of the Royal Family. You can see why it would have to be.

Man Irritated By Estate Agent Shock

I'm looking for a flat to rent at the moment. One of my least favourite things to do in the world, because of exchanges like this one:

Me: Thanks, but it's not quite what I'm looking for.
Estate Agent: It's been on the market a while now, I think they'd be prepared to take an offer.
Me: Well I'll think about it and let you know.
Estate Agent: Ok, but places like this tend to get snapped up pretty fast.

...But... you... just said...

I'm resigned to estate agents lying to me, but it would be nice if they at least listened to their own lies. Instead, they're like goldfish who think the conversation only began six seconds ago. Sure enough later on, when I asked him if he had any of such-and-such a type of flat on his books, he said no; and there was no point me waiting for one, because this was the slowest time of the year. Evidently the jostling crowd of eager flat-snapper-uppers had already vanished back into the mists from which he had conjured them.

You never think it will happen to you.

I was shocked and saddened to learn that this year's Running of the Bulls in Pamplona ended in tragedy, with the death of one of the young men taking part. How awful that a young life was so cruelly cut short. It's just one of those ghastly freak accidents that there's really nothing anyone could have done to prevent. Daniel Jimeno just happened to be in the wrong place - the narrow cobbled streets of Pamplona - at the wrong time - the time when the city elects to goad a herd of maddened, terrified bulls into stampeding through those streets.

How could he have known, when he decided to join in the annual event in which 15 people have died since it began in 1911, that he might die? After all, as Pamplona's mayor Yolanda Barcina wisely pointed out, no-one's been killed by a bull in Pamplona for quite some time - not since 1995. Ancient history! In fact, Mayor Barcina continued: "before Daniel Jimeno was gored, participants of the run had been complaining for years that the run was losing excitement and risk because of all the security measures which the municipality has put in place," Senor Jimeno's family can take comfort, then, that he did not die in vain. He's definitely shut those people up.

I suggest, then, that we set up a fund in his name, a charity dedicated to raising money to research what on earth it is that causes some otherwise healthy young men, whilst voluntarily trying to outrun maddened bulls, to get gored to death by maddened bulls. There must be some common factor, if only we could put our finger on it. It's really ignorance that's the killer here. Ignorance, and maddened bulls.

(Other fatalities of the Pamplona Bull Run this year included, as always, all the bulls. But that was as planned, so it's fine.)

I decided it was 'doubtful' that Magnus Magnusson carried a weapon. Because who can say for sure?

Here at Procrastination Central, I have just spent ten happy minutes playing with this, an A.I. version of Animal Mineral or Vegetable. I started off with the straight forward version - 'Truth' was fun, I might tell you about it later - then I moved on to the version where you play as a famous person. It beat me easily when I was Phil Silvers, and with difficulty when I was Oliver Cromwell (though that was because apparently other players, when asked if Cromwell is retired, have responded 'Probably'; and when asked whether he was a Catholic have responded... 'Yes'. It's my guess those players were not Irish.) Then I beat it by posing as Magnus Magnusson, whom it rather surprisingly identified as Yitzhak Rabin. Which is what gave me the idea of playing as myself, and seeing which famous person it confused me with. Here's what happened.  1) Are you under 40 years old? Yes. 2) Do you wear makeup? No.  3) Have you ever been married? No. 4) Are you in movies? No. 5) Have you had a Top 40 hit in the last 10 years? No 6) Were you ever part of a duo? Yes 7) Do you play an outdoor sport? No. 8) Are you an actor? Sometimes. 9) Are you British? Yes. 10) Are you a comedian? Yes 11) Do you perform live? Sometimes. 12) Do you have blond hair? No. 13) Are you a TV show host? No. 14) Are you multi-talented? No. 15) Are you skinny? No. 16) Are you involved with music? No. 17) Did you die your hair? No. 18) I am guessing you are David Mitchell.  Well, I'm not. I'm less 4, less 14, and increasingly less 15 than him. But what does make that a bit odd is that today happens to be the day of the launch of this series: http://www.channelflip.com/2009/02/06/david-mitchells-soapbox-mouse/#more-1134 , featuring David Mitchell, and written by him and some other bloke.

Luckily, I have never said anything stupid in an unguarded moment watching TV, so this is utterly fair game.

We are watching a programme about identical triplets. The whole programme has been about identical triplets. The particular set of triplets now on screen have just been talking about how they are so identical that when they had some professional photos done, it took they themselves a few moments to tell who was whom. 

The deep thinker with whom I am watching the programme speaks:

'The one on the left looks like [our friend] Sophie.' Thoughtful pause. 'They all look a bit like Sophie.'

To paraphrase Stephen Fry, I use the word 'thoughtful' there... quite wrongly.

...And the annual 'Favourite Guess From Christmas Games of Articulate' award goes to:

DESCRIBER:

It's a bird... like a magpie, but with bluish wings, I think... it's got the same name as a letter of the alphabet... A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I... ?  

GUESSER:

Kay!

I might go round there about three tomorrow morning, trick or treating.

It's four o'clock on the 6th November. Someone has just let off some fireworks nearby. It's the day after bonfire night. But it's not the Friday or Saturday after bonfire night; it's a Thursday. And it's not yet dark.

I can imagine getting over-excited on the 5th, and letting them off at four o'clock because you can't wait a moment longer. You'd have to be six years old, or a moron, but still, I can imagine it.
I can also imagine being busy on the 5th and yet being so keen on fireworks you postpone your display to the next day; or finding an extra box you forgot about yesterday, or getting some half price on the 6th because the shops are trying to get rid of them.

What I can't imagine is the combination. Postponing your Guy Fawkes night celebration until the day after... and then getting so overtaken by the sheer excitement of the occasion that you let them off in broad daylight. 'Four o'clock is late enough! We can imagine the pretty lights - they're the most boring part of a firework anyway. What's important is that we honour the historic occasion of it being 403 years and one day since a failed political assassination by making the noise 'bang', and that we do it NOW. There's not a moment to lose!'

All of this ire, incidentally, is provoked by the sight of the scardier of my two cats (who was visible for most of yesterday evening only as a cowardly furry arse poking out from behind the cupboard he had decided was the flat's closest approximation to a nuclear bunker), haring back to the house in the manner of a Trafalgar Square reveller on VE day who's just seen a Messerschmidt.