Those of you who know your book of Genesis will remember that the first crime was committed in the Garden of Eden. It was also the place where the first sentencing decision was made.
Adam knew that eating the apple was expressly prohibited but, knowing that it was, he deliberately committed the offence. What he did not know was the likely range of sentence. He did not take the point that the lack of certainty constituted a breach of his Human Rights, nor even that he lacked legal assistance. So, for what would have been described in mitigation as picking an apple, just one small little apple, probably tomorrow's windfall, perhaps no more than a single bite, he was expelled from the Garden of Eden, and we, his progeny, have been visited with tribulations and sadness ever since.
This sounds like a manifestly excessive sentence - such horrendous consequences for scrumping a single apple. Perhaps however you should remember the prosecution case against him. This, after all, was not that he had pinched a little apple, and eaten some of it, but that he was seeking power - power in the form of knowledge, power enough to make him equal with God, or god-like.
So this was not just eating a little apple. This was a deliberate challenge to and the cause of a irreparable damage to the whole fabric of creation. On this view no punishment could adequately reflect the heinousness of this crime. Hanging would be too good for him. How shocking that he was given a complete let off - that he “walked free”.
If you were not in court, you would depend for your own views - and you might indeed have very strong views - on the newspaper or television which you read or watched. The readers of the Heavenly Sun or the Guardian Angel, the Daily Hail or the Eternal Times might not be reading about the same case.
Let us consider Eve.
Was the punishment unfair to her? Although guilty, according to her mitigation, perhaps deciding that it would be forensically unwise to blame a mere serpent - she had been led astray by Adam, who knew the secret of the apple, while she did not really appreciate it. Her husband was very dominating, and God hadn't really trusted her with the information which he gave to Adam. Or was it all her fault, really? Did an unknown defendant incite her? Did she incite Adam? Which of them was to blame? Would you remember such facts as you had acquired about the case, two days, or even two hours after you read them in the newspaper? Or would you simply be left with an impression of the case which merely confirmed your prejudices, and the line adopted by the editor of the newspaper you chose to read. Would you remember the facts nine months later, if a “Free Eve” campaign were mounted?
Should there have been any distinction between the two in the sentence? Was either of them more culpable? The sentencer did not see any difference. Should he?
And now to the crucial question: did the sentence do any good?
However you approach the answer, the Draconian penalty certainly did not stop crime, and in the next generation one of their sons killed the other. That certainly would not have happened if they had not been expelled from Paradise. The mitigation plea for Cain would certainly blame his parents' criminal background. What chance did he have? So was that the judge's fault? Could you argue that the first murder in history was the fault of the judge in Paradise Crown Court who was not too lenient, but far too severe? Should he perhaps have given them a warning? A clang of the gates of Paradise with them outside, for maybe three months, with a solemn warning, when they returned, “Now you know what it's like outside. Any further offences and next time you will be out for good.”
But would that have worked? Wouldn't their experience outside Paradise immediately contaminate their innocence beyond restoration?
It's all there in the book of Genesis. The first crime. The first sentence. The consequences of the first crime, and the consequences of the first sentencing decision. Like every such decision, it was a unique decision: like every unique sentencing decision, it had and contributed to a broader context.
In this talk I do not intend to address the statutory provisions for sentencing in the Criminal Justice Act 2003. I want to address wider considerations consequent on the sentencing decision.
In our community there is a profound sense of unease about crime, in particular a fear, sometimes paralysing, of criminal violence, and genuine concern about sentencing decisions, as they say, “handed down” in court.
Many people think that we live in a violent society, and if you are one of them, you would simply reflect public opinion generally.
Everybody deploys statistics. I have one piece of advice: treat any assertion based on statistics as unreliable. Always examine precisely what the statistic is about. With precision.
Do you think that we live in a violent society? You will of course appreciate that I am not intending to diminish the awfulness of what happened on 7th July, a dreadful crime which was being remembered in St Paul's today. But if you think that we live in a violent society then you are representative of the participants in the bi-annual British Crime Survey, which asked for the views of 20,000 people - which makes it an important poll. Remember that 1,250-1,500 is the sort of number used by pollsters to tell us what the public thinks.
In the British Crime Survey for 2004, 76 out of each 100 people believed that the sentences “handed down” by judges were lenient or much too lenient. Only 24% thought the sentences were about right, or too severe. I repeat: 3 out of 4 thought sentences were lenient or much too lenient.
I find this profoundly alarming. Judges are public servants. We serve the community. How sad that there is such a wide belief that we are not doing the job expected of us to do with sufficient firmness. There are, as I shall seek to address, consequences of this belief which are potentially profoundly damaging to the community.
But first, I want to test you. You, after all, members of this most distinguished club, men and women of wide experience and knowledge, capable of critical analysis of what you read. The point of this exercise is to examine what you know, and set against that what your perceptions are.
Take out a pencil and paper and write down your own personal answers to the following simple questions:
- For every 100 crimes recorded by the police, what number involve violence resulting in injury, however trivial, including sexual offences, robbery, ABH and so on?
- Of every 100 men aged 21 or over, convicted of rape, how many were sent to prison?
- What was the average length of prison sentence for a man aged 21 or over, convicted of rape?
- Of every 100 men aged 21 or over, convicted of robbery, how many were sent to prison?
- Of every 100 men aged 21 or over, convicted of house burglary, how many were sent to prison?
Now to the answers: check your own. I shall give you the facts, and you can see where you stand - how right or how wrong.
Let us look at the first question. Violence in the very broad sense I have described involving injury however slight accounts for 13% of crime recorded by the police: if you add hooliganism, yobbery and all that kind of conduct it goes up to 21%. In the most recent equivalent survey, the responses over-estimated the extent of violence, 58% believed that at least half recorded crime involved violence. No wonder people believe we live in a violent society.
As to rape (which includes sexual intercourse which was begun with the woman's consent, but continues after she has changed her mind) in 2003 and 2004 98% were sent to prison, for an average length of sentence of 7 years. The remaining 2% were detained in secure hospitals. In the equivalent survey, 82% under-estimated this figure. 56% under-estimated it very significantly, believing it was between 0% and 59%. A further 26% under-estimated it at between 60% and 85%. Coming closer to the correct figure, 18% only had figures estimated between 85% and 100%.
The answer to robbery was that in 2003, 91% and in 2004, 91% were sent to prison. The public answer showed 82% under-estimating it, including 62% who estimated the proportion at between 0% and 44%.
As to burglary (which includes putting your hand through an open door and pinching a bottle of milk) in 2003, 65% and in 2004, 63% of adults convicted of house burglary were sent to prison. The survey findings showed that 70% under-estimating that figure. 55% under-estimated it very greatly, at between 0% and 30%.
That is enough statistics. But they tell a very alarming story.
If 82% of the population over-estimate the amount of violent crime, and 82% believe that significant numbers of rapists and robbers are not sent to prison, and 70% believe that significant numbers of burglars are not sent to prison, then it is hardly surprising that 76% think that courts are much too lenient. And if I didn't know that all adult rapists, the overwhelming majority of adult robbers, and a high proportion of adult burglars were sent to prison, I would not think that I was doing a very good job. I too would think that judges were being too lenient.
Why do people get it wrong? Look at your own score. Why is there this vast and deeply alarming discrepancy between what actually happens and what you believe? Tear up the evidence against you. I shall resist the temptation to ask for all those who scored 5/5 to raise a hand.
But why does this happen?
I want to show you headlines and figures from two newspapers. Look at them. Then remember that they were both published on the same day, 22nd July 2004, reporting on the then latest results of the British Crime Survey. They are absolutely typical.
Newspaper 1
Crime: the truth.
New figures reveal that crime has fallen 39 per cent over the past nine years - the biggest sustained fall since the 19th century.
2003-04 compared with 1995
- Vandalism: -27%
- Domestic burglary: -47%
- All vehicle thefts: -51%
- Other household thefts: -43%
- Stealth theft/pickpocketing: -16%
- Other personal thefts: -36%
- All violent crimes (incl. rape): -36%
- Domestic violence: -55%
- Acquaintance violence: -50%
- Stranger violence: -5%
- Mugging: -5%
- All crimes: -39%
Newspaper 2
Lawless U.K.
Police chief's warning as violent crime soars
(Specific comparators not shown in the article)
- Serious violence: +15%
- Sex offences: +7%
- Violence with no injury: +24%
- Criminal damage: +9%
- Robbery: -8%
- Burglary: -8%
- Vehicle crime: -9%
- Theft: -1%
One further oddity. During the survey, 80% of those interviewed believed that prison was the appropriate sentence for dwelling-house burglaries. They were given the facts of an actual case of daytime burglary at the home of an elderly man, who was out of the house when the burglary happened. The burglar was a man with previous convictions. He did not ransack or mess up the house.
Faced with this actual case, although 80% believed that prison was the appropriate sentence for a dwelling house burglary, only 54% thought prison appropriate in this case. The remainder were in favour of non-custodial sentences, like community service, and so on.
The actual sentence in the case, in the Crown Court, was three years. The Court of Appeal reduced it to two years. Of those who suggested that the case merited prison, very few indeed, a tiny minority, thought the sentence should be as long as that actually ordered by the Court of Appeal.
What is also strange about the perception, is that we actually live in a time when the prison population has been rocketing. It is now around just under around 78,000, and the prisons are literally full to overflowing. It has never been so high in those absolute terms or proportionately to the population. We currently have 141 people in custody for every 100,000 of the population: in France it is 93, and in Germany 98. As Lord Bingham commented when he was Lord Chief Justice:
“So we have this extraordinary paradox, that judges and magistrates have been roundly criticised over lenient sentencing during a period when they have been sending more defendants to prison, for longer periods, than at any time in the last 40 years.”
There is no more difficult part of the judicial process than the sentencing decision. It is trite, but every single case is different. At common law the purpose involved four concepts, possibly five.
- Retribution
- Incapacitation
- Deterrent
- Rehabilitation
- And, sometimes, expiation
We now have in statutory form much the same, although not identical considerations in section 142 of the Criminal Justice Act 2003.
s142: Purposes of sentencing
(1) Any court dealing with an offender in respect of his offence must have regard to the following purposes of sentencing-
(a) the punishment of offenders,
(b) the reduction of crime (including its reduction by deterrence),
(c) the reform and rehabilitation of offenders,
(d) the protection of the public, and
(e) the making of reparation by offenders to persons affected by their offences.
(2) Subsection (1) does not apply-
(a) in relation to an offender who is aged under 18 at the time of conviction,
(b) to an offence the sentence for which is fixed by law,
(c) to an offence the sentence for which falls to be imposed under section 51A(2) of the Firearms Act 1968 (c. 27) (minimum sentence for certain firearms offences), under subsection (2) of section 110 or 111 of the Sentencing Act (required custodial sentences) or under any of sections 225 to 228 of this Act (dangerous offenders), or
(d) in relation to the making under Part 3 of the Mental Health Act 1983 (c. 20) of a hospital order (with or without a restriction order), an interim hospital order, a hospital direction or a limitation direction.
(3) In this Chapter "sentence", in relation to an offence, includes any order made by a court when dealing with the offender in respect of his offence; and "sentencing" is to be construed accordingly.
All these purposes have to be balanced in each sentencing decision, and they are not always consistent. In addition there are three essential factors in issue, sometimes themselves conflicting, while the balance is being achieved.
First, there is the crime itself, and how it is perceived in our contemporary community.
Second, there is the victim, and the impact (note that word) of the crime on the victim.
Third, there is the defendant, and the circumstances in which the crime came to be committed, and his or her attitude to it.
Not all these three factors are objective. Indeed, two of them include at least an element of the subjective.
The defendant and the victim are real, live human beings, not just people we read about.
So, let me analyse those three factors in more detail.
First, the crime itself. That is, the crime admitted, or proved. If a man is charged with seven offences of indecent assault, but only convicted of one, he cannot be sentenced for the other six.
I emphasise the attitude of contemporary society, because public attitudes constantly change. I was told recently that in the sixteenth century, Henry VIII's parliament - the Reformation Parliament - introduced a new penalty for blasphemy. For blasphemy you would be boiled alive. Nowadays, blasphemy is so constant that we do not even notice it. In the eighteenth century it was not considered a crime to trick someone into parting with their goods or money. If you were stupid enough to be gulled, that was your fault. Too bad. When I started at the Bar, drink driving was not regarded as a serious offence - indeed juries simply never convicted, and that is why the law was changed to tests based on blood and urine samples - and very many cases of causing death by dangerous driving were dealt with by a fine and short disqualification. The change in attitude during my time in practice has been dramatic.
Note my emphasis on our contemporary British society here.
As an example, a judge from India who had tried the most serious cases, and imposed the death penalty, attended a judicial seminar. We were discussing the case of a man who, finding his wife in bed with her lover, armed himself with a shotgun and fired it at his legs causing very serious injury. Our view was that he merited serious punishment, discounted for the element of provocation. The judge from India was horrified that we were contemplating a prison sentence at all. His view was that this man had been protecting the honour of his family.
We are English judges, and we must try and reflect the views of the community which we serve, and their current attitudes, best reflected in any changes made by parliament in maximum and minimum sentence levels.
s 143: Determining the seriousness of an offence
(1) In considering the seriousness of any offence, the court must consider the offender's culpability in committing the offence and any harm which the offence caused, was intended to cause or might forseeably have caused.
(2) In considering the seriousness of an offence ("the current offence") committed by an offender who has one or more previous convictions, the court must treat each previous conviction as an aggravating factor if (in the case of that conviction) the court considers that it can reasonably be so treated having regard, in particular, to-
(a) the nature of the offence to which the conviction relates and its relevance to the current offence, and
(b) the time that has elapsed since the conviction.
(3) In considering the seriousness of any offence committed while the offender was on bail, the court must treat the fact that it was committed in those circumstances as an aggravating factor.
(4) Any reference in subsection (2) to a previous conviction is to be read as a reference to-
(a) a previous conviction by a court in the United Kingdom, or
(b) a previous finding of guilt in service disciplinary proceedings.
(5) Subsections (2) and (4) do not prevent the court from treating a previous conviction by a court outside the United Kingdom as an aggravating factor in any case where the court considers it appropriate to do so.
Notice “culpability” ... any harm which the offence caused, was intended to cause, or might foreseeabily have caused.
All are to be considered: not each is identical.
A man stabs another man with a knife. He intends to cause him a very serious injury. Fortunately, there is an alert passer-by, and by the greatest good fortune and skilful surgery, the victim in the end escapes any long-term injury and makes a complete recovery. That happens. There is no doubt about the intention. But here, the harm turns out to be relatively slight.
This too happens. A couple of lads have a row about a girl in a pub, and step outside. One punches the other on the jaw, not intending any serious injury, and not a particularly hard blow. But the other has had a drink or two, and so he stumbles backwards and falls to the ground. Unfortunately he cracks his head on a large stone. There is no miracle. On the contrary, he dies. There is no doubt here about the catastrophic harm. But the intention was no more than a punch.
The first man is guilty of wounding with intent to cause grievous bodily harm. The second is guilty of manslaughter. He is a “killer” - and that is how he will be described in the evening paper. Which of those two men is morally more culpable? I won't answer the question. You answer for yourselves. Which is legally the more to blame? The second man has actually cased the death of another human being, and that is a result of his actions, for which he and he alone is responsible. But to impose a sentence on him which takes account only of the death, without reflecting that the result was something far beyond anything he anticipated, or imagine, or tried to cause, would surely not be just.
Take another example of a really serious sentencing problem. We all have experienced the idiot who drives too fast, quite oblivious to others, for long distances. You see him occasionally, steaming down the motorway, ten yards from the car in front, blowing his horn and flashing his lights. A complete danger to everyone about him. Luckily there is no accident, no damage, and no injury, but that man is guilty of dangerous driving. Another man generally drives very well and carefully. But one evening he has to work late. His wife isn't very well and the children are playing up. Not fully alert, he drives somewhat too fast, takes a corner too quickly, crosses on to the other side of the road, where he crashes into another car, killing one of the passengers. He is guilty of causing death by dangerous driving.
Again, I ask the question, and do not supply the answer myself. Of those two men, which is morally more to blame? Parliament has made it clear that, in law, the second man is (to put it crudely) to be sentenced as if he is potentially at least five times more to blame than the first man. Obviously, the death of the innocent passenger in the other car is a matter of serious concern, and there is public outrage at such accidents. But if you are considering the appropriate range of sentence, you must, must you not, consider not only the awful result, and the grieving members of the victim's family, but also the actual criminality involved. And indeed, this poses yet another question which is whether the sentence should be affected because the deceased has left many grieving members of his family, or a few, or none: no-one to mourn him at all. If we cannot ignore his death (and I am sure we cannot) should the sentence be longer if there are many who mourn him?
Next, the victim. Not the wishes of the victim, but the impact on the victim of the crime.
For years, judges were castigated for what were described as punitive sentences imposed for crimes of burglary. The argument then was that the judiciary was a typical middle-class bunch of men, attaching too much importance to offences against property, for which most victims were insured anyway. But the judges then, and now, and the community now, believe that burglary of a home is an offence against the person. It has a direct impact on the householder whether she or he is in the house when it happens. The impact is not necessarily the monetary value. What about a wedding photograph, wantonly destroyed? Or perhaps the now-dead parents wedding photograph. And what about the war medals, kept by the widow? I don't mean the Victoria Cross or the Military Cross or Military Medal. I just mean the ordinary service medals. These, after all, are our parents, or for the younger of you, your grandparents. Those medals remind the widow of the story of the youth of her marriage. They tell of partings, and fear; keeping things going by letter writing; and then the return, he having seen, and probably done, terrible things; and she having kept the home going; and then settling down together to remake their relationship, with no assistance, in very hard times. The medals are worth 50p, if that, to the dishonest receiver at the car boot sale, but those medals tell her story, and in most cases they add far more in the scale than the stolen television, which on the face of it is worth far more money.
As I said, not wishes, but impact. The court is not exacting private revenge. And therefore it cannot be influenced by the private wishes of the victim about the penalty. That would make sentence depend, not on the crime, but on how forgiving or how revengeful the victim felt.
In a reported case, two victims had identical interests. They were both the parents of a boy who had been killed by his friend in a car accident after they had been drinking together. One parent sought the defendant's release or a much lighter sentence. The other parent had a diametrically opposed view.
In a recent article in The Times Magnus Linklater suggested:
“We have become fixated on the victim, at the expense of every other consideration. On his or her behalf we demand compensation, unflinching justice, and, ultimately, vengeance. We are no longer prepared to leave these matters exclusively to the courts, with their remote and dispassionate administration of the law. Criticism of the judiciary and its sentencing policy, once considered sensitive, is now routine ... The fact that a climate of hostility towards “soft” judges has been fostered and encouraged by a succession of populist Home Secretaries ... makes the lofty remoteness of the bench harder than ever to maintain. Yet it is precisely this remoteness that allows the balance to be struck ...”.
And so we move to the defendant.
The defendant nearly always makes a difference. This isn't namby-pamby psycho-babble. You are not sentencing a piece of paper. In some cases the defendant does not matter, because the sentence is mandatory. An armed criminal, blowing away a policeman who is in his way and might lead to him being caught, is sentenced to life imprisonment. But so is a spouse, who out of a sense of profound love and loyalty over many years, hastens the death of a pain-riddled husband or wife, thus avoiding months of anguish, but also curtailing life by that amount. Although they will not serve the same time, the actual sentence for murder for both is life imprisonment.
But in most cases the judge has to decide. He listens to the mitigation. He's seen the defendant. Sometimes the defendant is in tears. Are those tears of remorse - or self pity? Is there any insight into the impact of the crime on the victim? Should genuine remorse result in a reduced sentence? Why not? If the defendant is highly unlikely to offend again, is that to be taken into consideration? Again, why not?
Or take sex crimes. The word “paedophile” is now used indiscriminately. It is used to describe the evil pervert who does unmentionable and distressing things to a group of small children, and I emphasise distressing even to a judge who has had more than his or her fair share of exposure to human wickedness. And it is used to describe the defendant who puts his hand on a child's bottom in a crowded swimming pool, over her costume, and who is sixteen years old, inarticulate, educationally backward, and possibly himself the victim of abuse with not the slightest idea how to behave.
You are the judge, and you believe that the defendant in the latter case can receive help and advice, and that, from the community's point of view, treatment now might stop him being a serial abuser when he is thirty-five. You know, however, that a non-custodial sentence will cause outrage. What is the right sentence to impose on him? This takes judicial courage. More than one judge has had great distress caused to his family because of inaccurate coverage by the media of cases of this kind.
This problem often arises with young offenders. Which of us did not make mistakes during our teenage years? Or became involved in silly things that could have gone wrong - but luckily for us didn't? Is it advantageous to the community for young offenders to be sent to what are sometimes described as “universities of crime”? Of course they must be punished for serious offences, but locking them up and throwing away the key is no sort of solution.
For a judge there is justice and there is mercy. But mercy is not a quality currently in great demand.
I have a theory, not to be analysed now, that if the community as a whole believed that each of us, in our time, will have to face a greater Judge than any on earth, for him to weigh our thoughts and virtues in the balance, mercy would not have become so unfashionable. Isabella's plea in Measure for Measure says it all:
“... How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgement, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
...“
Or, more simply:
“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.“
One concern which every sentencing judge has to acknowledge when he imposes a non-custodial, apparently lenient, sentence, is the damaging effect of the way such a decision will be perceived. And that perception really matters.
A lenient sentence may enable the offender to think that the time has not yet come to reform. The consequences of being caught will not be too difficult to bear. Of course, if the judge thinks that is the defendant's view, he will not be merciful, but his decision may leave someone else thinking that the consequences might not be too serious, and thus a deterrent element would be lost.
A lenient sentence may also denigrate the victim in his or her own eyes, and give the impression of trivialising the crime. That is why it is imperative that reasons should always be given for an apparently lenient sentence.
Can I come back to where I started? If there is a general perception in the community that sentences are over-lenient, then there will be at least five unacceptable consequences of such perception:
- If victims believe that nothing will happen to the criminal, they will not report the crime. They will think it pointless. And so the criminal will get away with the crime, and be free to perpetrate another.
- The fear of crime will increase. This is socially destructive, and there are too many examples of paralysing fear. We all know an elderly person, or more than one, possibly our own relatives, who lock themselves into a virtual prison at dusk, frightened of what the night might bring. Isn't this a tragic way for anyone to have to end his or her days?
- Individuals who believe that offenders are not properly punished by the courts, may take the law into their own hands and mete out violent retribution. We have all heard of such cases. From there, and the implied tolerance of such crime, there is a very short journey to mob or lynch law. That is no sort of law, and no sort of justice. In the end it will engulf the innocent as well as the guilty.
- A division will grow between the community and the judiciary who are its servants. That is bad in itself. Worse, still, although we all recognise the importance of judicial independence, if the public perception is that judges are not doing the job expected of them, then the public itself will more readily tolerate politicians interfering in areas which traditionally, at any rate, have been regarded as matters for judges, who, independently of political pressures, are the ones who make the necessary decisions. The community really does need what Edmund Burke described as “the cold neutrality of the impartial judge”.
- Finally, history tends to show us that even in a community like ours, where there is a long tradition of powerful support for the concept of individual liberty, fear, whether fear of an outside enemy, or fear of the consequences of uncontrolled and unpunished crime, may lead to willing acceptance of measures which curtail individual liberty. These are said to be “necessary” for public protection. If they are really necessary, that is what they are. However, we surely must examine them with minds that are unclouded by misconceptions about the crime and the criminal justice system.
This perhaps, as I am coming to the end, is the context for me as a current judge to pay tribute to the memory of Lord Atkin himself.
To acknowledge the contribution of that great judge and his understanding of the basic principles of the common law long before was a European Convention of Human Rights. We simply acknowledge his greatness as a judge, a judge whose name will be certain to be revered down the centuries as one of those who best understood and best articulated the principles of individual liberty and the rule of law, even as the bombs fell on London, when the war was far from won and when it is only the comfort of hindsight that enables us to assume that it was bound to be won. It is a singular honour for me to give the lecture associated with his name.
Let me summarise.
So, perception is critical, and perception of the sentencing process is critical. As critical as the actual facts. Indeed perception is itself a fact. That is why your answers to the questions I posed to you earlier really matter. If your answers were wrong, it is not your fault, but your perception remains critical. So is that of your family and friends and neighbours and your own individual communities. You, and they, are simply reflecting back information which you have received. Try and examine that information closely.
Social conditions contribute to crime. So do drugs, alcohol, family breakdown. But these are not the subject of this lecture. I simply record that I have seen emotional deprivation in the most prosperous of homes, and nobility of purpose and true appreciation of the worth of every member of the family in the poorest and most abject of physical surroundings.
The sentencing judge is involved right at the far end of the crime. The crime has been committed and the crime has a victim, and the offender has been caught and convicted. The judge has to try and reflect, in each and every case, on a series of conflicting interests, purposes and concerns, and to form a judgment about the best answer to each individual case.
It is, I am sure you will understand, rarely of easy application, but that is how the sentencing decision is made.
Please note: speeches published on this website reflect the individual judicial office-holder's personal views, unless otherwise stated. If you have any queries please contact the Judicial Communications Office.
