Photography and Contempt of Court

The real story of the case of Paul Thompson.

Yesterday it was reported that Paul Thompson was sent to prison for two months, just for taking a photograph in court with his Blackberry.

It was a classic "Bad Law" news story, the sort of piece which will make the reader think that the "law is an ass". Such stories are a journalistic staple; they are easy to write, and the result is invariably outrage at the disproportion of the sanction or the lack of common sense.

Often these stories are true, for the law can indeed be an ass. All those concerned with the application of legal powers and judicial remedies -- from police officers to distinguished judges -- make mistakes or act without proper deliberation and, given the coercive force of law, people's lives can be adversely affected. Similarly those who devise or make laws, such as civil servants and politicians, can end up legislating on a misconceived basis. The law can be brought into disrepute in many ways and by many people, most of whom should know better.

But sometimes the news stories are incorrect. To paraphrase Ben Goldacre, author of the Bad Science columns at the Guardian, it turns out that things are more complicated than is apparent from news reports. Any news story which prompts the reaction that the "law is an ass" is normally one of two kinds: either the law is actually at fault, or the legal reporting is incomplete or misleading. In other words, a "Bad Law" news story means either bad law, or bad law journalism.

And so we turn to the story of Paul Thompson and his Blackberry. The Times reported (£) that 19-year-old Thompson "was sitting in the public gallery of Luton crown court to watch a friend being sentenced for robbing an off-duty police officer when he took a snap of the courtroom on his Blackberry". This photograph was "in response to a message from a girl asking where he was".

Thompson was spotted, taken to the cells, and then on his return to court was sentenced to two months imprisonment. The Times referred to section 41 of the Criminal Justice Act 1925, which prohibits photography in Court. There was also mention that the sanction is up to two years in prison or a fine. A well-known media lawyer was then quoted as saying that the penalty seemed "robust for someone who had committed an inadvertent breach of the law". There was even mention of Thompson's "eight week-old puppy", which had been left "alone in his flat in Luton". The story was reported in similar terms by the BBC, and even the Guardian took the story at face value.

It was seemingly stark that this was a ridiculous over-reaction by the judge. It surely could not be right that a teenager should be imprisoned in such a casual fashion, for such a long period (and which left a puppy to starve).

So what really happened?

What did occur was more complicated than the account set out in the Times and elsewhere. In fact, Thompson had been continually disruptive in Court and had been asked twice by the usher to stop disrupting proceedings. As a spokesperson for the Judicial Office of Communication stated:

Mr Thompson had been disruptive throughout the sentencing hearing. He was warned twice by the court usher to keep quiet in court before being finally asked to leave the court. He had also taken a photograph in court of the victim in the case who had suffered a violent robbery.

Her Honour Judge Mensah dealt with the matter under the Contempt of Court Act 1981 and not s.41 of the Criminal Justice Act 1925 as some media have reported. She considered the totality of Mr Thompson's behaviour in court. In sentencing him she took into account his immediate admission of guilt and made clear the sentence included an element of punishment and deterrent to others.

So, contrary to the news reports, Thompson was not punished just for taking a photograph, and nor was he convicted under the offence specified by the Times (which, in any case carries, only a small fine). He instead was sentenced in respect of the disruption as a whole. The photograph was not just a quick picture of the court to show a friend where he was; it was instead a photograph of the victim of a violent assault. And it was not a casual sanction; there had been warnings, and legal representation was arranged. The photograph taken was examined by the police and the judge before the sentence was handed down. Almost all this information was available to those reporting the story, had they asked for it.

The robbery involved appears to have been horrifying. According to the judge:

[The victim] was ambushed by somebody putting a gun to his head.

He was pulled to the ground and his eyes were covered and he was violently robbed.

The gun may have been imitation but that is of little comfort to the victim who had it poked to his head and I have heard evidence that you laughed after the robbery and childishly adopted gangster-like poses for photographs.

You thought it was funny to rob someone at gun-point, putting them in immense fear.

Both of you are dangerous young men who glory in following dishonest and violent life styles.

One can perhaps see why a camera then being pointed at the victim by Thompson did not go down terribly well with the judge.

All this said, the question remains whether the two-month imprisonment for Thompson was excessive. The Court of Appeal in 2004 (referred to here) held that a twelve month sentence for contempt of court was appropriate when the appellant took three photographs -- of people in the Court canteen, a witness giving evidence, and a defendant and prison officer in the dock. The Court of Appeal said that taking photographs in the courtroom was a growing problem and needed to be taken seriously, especially when the pictures are of those who could face intimidation or reprisals. Accordingly, it was clear "that illegal photography had the potential gravely to prejudice the administration of criminal justice". In appropriate cases, immediate imprisonment was appropriate; in that appeal case, this would be for 12 months, but for others "the clang of the prison gates would be enough". However, in the case of a tourist just snapping a pic in ignorance of the law, a fine would be appropriate.

Nonetheless, two months imprisonment is a long time for any 19-year-old. It may be that there is an appeal. What is certain is that the initial news reports of what happened last week in Luton Crown Court did not really tell the fuller story. Someone was continually disrupting the sentencing in respect of a serious violent offence, and he then took a photograph of the victim. On these facts, it would appear that there was indeed a contempt of court. Thompson was then provided with legal representation before being sentenced. An appeal court may consider whether two months is excessive; which it could well be. But this does not seem a case where it was the law which was an ass.

And, fortunately, the puppy did not starve.

 

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman

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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Emmanuel Macron: a populist eruption from the liberal centre

The French presidential candidate has been compared with a young Tony Blair.

The French presidential candidate Emmanuel Macron came to town this week to meet Theresa May and address the London French community, whose votes he was chasing. In our age of extremes, Macron, who is 39, is that rare thing – a populist eruption from the liberal centre. A former merchant banker and economy minister in the failing Hollande Socialiste administration, he represents En Marche! (“Forward!”), which is less a party than a movement. His sudden rise would not have been possible in Britain, which is part of the stability and attraction of the parliamentary system but also its frustration.

Don’t be shy

I met Macron on Tuesday afternoon when he took questions from a small group of journalists at Central Hall Westminster. He is small and dapper, with short hair and a strong, straight nose. Because of the collapse of the Socialistes and the struggles of the discredited conservative contender François Fillon, Macron has emerged as the great hope of liberals and perhaps as the candidate to stop Marine Le Pen seizing the presidency. Unlike the Front National leader, Macron is an unashamed liberal globaliser in the model of Nick Clegg or a younger, less tormented Tony Blair. He is a passionate advocate of the EU and of the eurozone and, as a result, is under attack from the Russian media. He has been accused of leading a double life – his wife, whom he met when she was his schoolteacher, is 20 years older than Macron – and of being unwilling to admit that he is gay, or at least bisexual. His response to the Russian attacks was, he said, “to disclose the manipulation and kill the rumours”.

The far right in France has caricatured Macron as being “globalisation personified”, about which he is relaxed. In conversation, he criticised David Cameron’s referendum campaign. “His message was ‘Yes but . . .’ That is not the answer to ‘No’. I defend Europe and the four freedoms of the EU. If you are shy, you are dead.”

Not all relative

On Sunday, I received a text from one of my cousins. “The Lincoln City manager and his brother, the assistant, are called Cowley,” he wrote. “His father looks a bit like your father. Any relation? They are from Essex.” I am also from Essex, born and brought up in Harlow new town, which turned 70 this year. But I had to disappoint my cousin. My father was an only child, as was his father, so it’s highly unlikely that these Cowley brothers are even distant relations of mine.

Toast of the county

I already knew about the brothers, having been alerted to them by my seven-year-old son, who is a sports data enthusiast. Last season, Danny Cowley and his younger brother, Nicky, were working as teachers in Essex while coaching Braintree Town at weekends. This season, they have led Lincoln to an FA Cup quarter-final against Arsenal, making them the first non-League team to reach the last eight in more than a century. Lincoln are also at the top of the National League (English football’s semi-professional fifth division) and in the quarter-final of the FA Trophy, the premier non-League cup competition. The Cowleys are reported to be subsisting on a diet of toast and Marmite as they rise early each morning obsessively to study videos and analytics and prepare for the next match. They have introduced a new spirit of openness at the previously moribund club: fans watch training sessions and attend press conferences.

It’s nonsense to believe, as some do, that only those who have performed at the highest level have the authority to coach the best. Wenger, Mourinho, Sven-Göran Eriksson, Roy Hodgson, André Villas-Boas: none of them were even remotely successful players. Asked once to explain his accomplishments, Mourinho said: “I’ve had more time to study.” More English coaches – so few of whom are working in the Premier League – would do well to follow his example.

It will be fascinating to see how far the Cowley brothers progress in the game. Whatever happens next, they have reanimated interest in the FA Cup and given the resilient yeomen of Essex a small boost.

Ignore the huckster

Boris Johnson accused Tony Blair of “bare-faced effrontery” for having the temerity last week to deliver an anti-Brexit speech, which itself was an act of bare-faced effrontery. Johnson is a huckster and narcissist whose vanities have been grotesquely indulged for far too long by his cheerleaders and paymasters in the media. (A standard question to Johnson when he was mayor of London: “You do want to be prime minister, don’t you?”) No one should take anything Johnson says remotely seriously. Should the same be said of Blair?

Yes, of course he is the author of his own misfortunes and many will never forgive the former Labour prime minister for the Iraq catastrophe. Yet of all the politicians I have spoken to in recent times, Blair was the most intellectually nimble and the most alert to the defining complexities of the present moment. As he demonstrated in his speech, he also understands better than most why, in an age of intensifying ethnic nationalism, the parties of the left are failing across Europe, none more so than the British Labour Party, which looks as far away from power as it did after the 1931 election.

Journey to the centre

As an energetic and charismatic liberal, Macron has been likened to the young Tony Blair. Can he seize the progressive centre, as Blair did, and destabilise the old binary divisions of left and right? “The anti-European and anti-globalisation extremes are winning elections,” he said, in a veiled reference to Donald Trump and the vote for Brexit. “But we don’t have the same political cycles as the others. It’s time for France to do the opposite.” With that said, he thanked his interlocutors and was hurried off for a meeting with another Essex man, Philip Hammond, pursued not by a bear but by the journalist Robert Peston. 

Jason Cowley is editor of the New Statesman. He has been the editor of Granta, a senior editor at the Observer and a staff writer at the Times.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit