Legal aid and civil justice

Effective access to the courts is being threatened.

Yesterday's written statement of the Lord Chancellor, Kenneth Clarke QC MP began well enough. Introducing the Legal Aid, Sentencing and Punishment of Offenders Bill, he said:

Protecting the public from crime, ensuring those who break the law face the consequences, and providing swift, cost-effective and fair access to justice are fundamental responsibilities of the state towards its citizens.

So there you have it. In respect to both civil and criminal justice, providing swift, cost-effective and fair access to justice is a fundamental responsibility of the state towards its citizens.

But in respect of civil justice -- where one party takes another to court -- what does that actually mean?

Civil courts have two broadly overlapping functions. They provide a forum for settling disputes and they provide the means by which individuals can rely on their legal rights. Ideally, a civil court should do both: disputes are resolved by a judge determining the respective legal rights of the claimant and defendant.

In practice, however, almost all civil litigation is settled before it gets anywhere close to a judge for final disposal. As a general rule, litigation is settled in favour of the party in the stronger negotiating position: the party with more money, with better access to appropriate legal advice, and with the greater ability to assume the risk of losing.

In this way, the early settlement of civil disputes will usually tend to disadvantage the claimant or defendant that is weaker than the opposing party. It is only if the claimant can get their case before an impartial and independent court that they can hope to take the benefit of their legal rights. Otherwise, civil litigation is reduced to what the stronger party can get away with. Dispute resolution -- even "early dispute resolution" -- is not identical to access to justice. Indeed, it can mean the reverse.

With this in mind, let us see what Clarke also said yesterday in the written statement, specifically about civil justice:

In civil justice, we have a system burdened by spiraling costs, slow court procedures, unnecessary litigation, and too limited an awareness of alternatives to court -- all of which add to a fear of a compensation culture. In particular, our current system of legal aid too often encourages people to bring their problems before the courts, even when they are not the right place to provide good solutions and sometimes for litigation that people paying out of their own pocket would not have pursued.

However, these appear to be weasel words.

Take, for example, "our current system of legal aid too often encourages people to bring their problems before the courts" and replace the word "encourages" with the word "enables". If the reality of the matter is that the current system of legal aid enables weaker parties to have access to justice - and the determination of their legal rights by judges - this cannot be sidestepped easily by mischaracterising this access as "encouragement".

Similarly, take "sometimes for litigation that people paying out of their own pocket would not have pursued" and replace the word "would" with "could". Again, if people cannot pursue litigation but for the system of legal aid, then Clarke is mischaracterising the effect of that system.

So in one written statement, Clarke gives an assurance that he accepts providing swift, cost-effective and fair access to justice is a fundamental responsibility of the state towards its citizens; and then a few sentences later he undermines that assurance in respect of civil justice by deftly casting aspersions on those who use legal aid so as to gain access to the courts for the determination of their legal rights.

In fact, the assault on the civil legal aid system announced yesterday is horrific and wrong-headed.

Instead of seeking to target civil legal aid on cases which may not otherwise be able to proceed to court, the Ministry of Justice is simply taking whole areas of civil law out of the system altogether.

At a stroke, legal aid will no longer be available for clinical negligence, employment, immigration, and welfare benefits cases. It will also not be available for most private family law cases, debt and housing issues, and education cases.

Just listing these areas of law makes one realise that it will be those less able and less equipped to deal with the stress and sheer expense (and costs risks) of civil litigation. Without civil legal aid, weak parties will simply be at the mercy of the litigation strategy of the stronger party.

For example, in family cases - as the Conservative MP Helen Grant pointed out yesterday in the Commons:

mediation is no panacea and that it can fail badly in family cases where there is an imbalance in power.

And it gets worse. The hope of the Ministry of Justice is that some of those who will no longer have access to civil legal aid will obtain legal help on a "no win no fee" basis, especially in respect of clinical negligence. This means that the claimant's lawyers will, if successful, charge an additional "uplift" on their fees, sometime up to 100 per cent of their actual charges, to the losing party. As the defendant will invariably be some part of the National Health Service, these "savings" will in practice cost the taxpayer twice the amount: it will just be the Department of Health's problem, not the Ministry of Justice's.

Then there is the general effect of their being more claimants and defendants without legal assistance. "Litigants in person" are a considerable drain on any courts resources. What should be one hour applications will tend to last one day, and trials which should take one day will tend to last a week. Accordingly, removing civil legal aid will be a false economy for the civil justice system as a whole.

There is no perfect form of ensuring access to justice for civil litigants without private resources. And the Ministry of Justice is having to make savings thrust upon it by the government as a whole. It cannot be blamed as if this were a policy that it formulated free from budget restraints.

All that said, the cuts to civil justice legal aid make no sense on their own terms and could cost the state more overall.

There is no reason to believe that law firms will be able to provide advice to those who no longer qualify; and those firms that do will seek often to burden the taxpayer by other means, through higher costs.

Individuals without civil legal aid or other access to lawyers will simply not seek to rely on their legal rights, or will be bullied into unfair settlements, or will clog up the already inefficient civil courts. None of these are attractive outcomes.

It may be that our Lord Chancellor sincerely believes providing swift, cost-effective and fair access to justice is a fundamental responsibility of the state towards its citizens. However, his department's current civil justice aid policy means this "fundamental responsibility" will certainly not be discharged in practice.

 

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and a practising solicitor.

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and author of the Jack of Kent blog.

His legal journalism has included popularising the Simon Singh libel case and discrediting the Julian Assange myths about his extradition case.  His uncovering of the Nightjack email hack by the Times was described as "masterly analysis" by Lord Justice Leveson.

David is also a solicitor and was successful in the "Twitterjoketrial" appeal at the High Court.

(Nothing on this blog constitutes legal advice.)

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times