Drunks, gang-members, arsonists, reoffenders, truants - it's all more complicated than you think

Places like the St Giles Trust shouldn't struggle for funding.

“Yet another article in the ongoing series ‘Violent criminals should not be blamed… It's all the fault of the authorities". 

Comment from “John2002” under an article I wrote about policing.

That’s not what I think, John. I just think it’s complicated. Look, there’s this story I’ve wanted to tell for ages, but I’ve been wondering if it was possible to do it and name names. Turns out it isn’t, because if you blow the whistle in the NHS the wrong people get got by the management, sooner or later – but that’s another tale. Anyway.

It goes like this. There’s a doctor – my friend – and he works on an A&E ward somewhere in the north of England. One night a man comes in - he’s psychotic, and he’s drunk.

My friend phones the hospital’s mental health team, and describes the patient to them. And here’s what they tell him to do. They tell him to dare the man to threaten someone in the street. That way, he’d most likely end up being the police’s responsibility rather than theirs. They couldn’t take any more patients and this guy was just your classic fuck up – mentally ill and self medicating with drink (or perhaps the other way round – there’s usually a chicken and egg thing) rather than a potential serial killer or whatever.

Now I didn’t believe this at first. But he swore it was true. Then I talked to a psychiatrist in another town, and she told me she totally believed it, and that she had a problem with the police bringing guys in to be sectioned even though they were just drunk and angry, because the cells were full.

The problem with us hacks, John, is that you give us an inch and we take a mile. This is just a thing that happened. It doesn’t necessarily indicate that there’s a cigarette paper between the criminal justice system and mental health services.

But there’s a man I want you to hear from. He’s called Rob Owen, and he’s a former investment banker who now runs the St Giles Trust in Camberwell. It’s a charity which aims to stop people who’ve been in prison from re-offending. I tell him this story, and he nods his head. He won’t confirm if he’s ever seen cases exactly like this before, but he says: “We see prolific offenders with mental health problems who are drunks; they can’t be mentally assessed until they sober up, which won’t happen till they’re in prison. So they go in there, come back out again, and the cycle of offending continues.”

The thing is, it gets more complicated. One of Owen’s employees is a sweet-natured, tattooed black lady in her 30s, called Antonia Ejoh-Steer. Antonia grew up in Battersea, and in her 20s she got in trouble.  She was romantically involved with a man who was a gang member (in those days there were fewer of them around, but they existed), and the short story is she got an eight-year prison sentence for the possession of drugs.

When she was coming to the end of her sentence, Owen’s charity got in touch with her, and asked her to work for them. She was let out on license, so she was obliged to have regular meetings with her probation worker. Pretty soon those meetings were less about how Antonia was coping and more about how she could help the probation worker, by referring his clients to St Giles Trust.

“Coming out of prison is very hard indeed,” she says. “I was lucky. Most people leave without a job, homeless or isolated from their families - with nothing but a travel warrant and a discharge grant of £50 or so. Probation services are there but they have so many cases to deal with – if they don’t have a local connection they’ll find it hard to access services. One of the most important jobs we do is actually just getting people in housing.”

This leads to a simple question – you have, say, a gang member, leaving prison with absolutely no support. Where do you think he’ll go for help? Predictably most of Antonia’s work is spent trying to get youths out of gangs. She operates in Croydon, where there are a number of big groups with names like Bloc Cartel and Squeeze Section. She’s very good at her job, because she’s seen and done all this stuff herself.

“If I talk about my life – about the things I’ve seen, the friends I’ve lost - the kids can see they’re not untouchable,” she says. “What I do with them, really, is give them options. They can carry on down the road they’re on, if they like. But they don’t. That’s what makes it work – the fact we empower them. That’s why the police, youth offending team, probation services – they’re always happy to turn to us.”

John, I could tell you all sorts of stories that show how good people like Antonia are at their jobs. But I’m just going to use one figure. St Giles Trust works with about 350 young offenders in total, and most of them live in poor areas of London. After the August 2011 riots, the proportion of their clients who were arrested or charged was three per cent.

You could say that Antonia’s a special case – us hacks do love to see a bigger picture where there isn’t one, as I said. But Rob Owen employs 132 staff, and just under half of them are ex-offenders. I’ve met Antonia’s line manager several times. He was a member of a South London gang. There’s no other institution which is this committed to the deployment of people who’ve been in prison.

“The thing about people who’ve been in gangs,” Owen says, “Is that they’re very entrepreneurial. It’s easy to use them in a positive way.” But historically, there’s always been a resistance to using them: “It goes back to that Henry Ford quote – ‘If I’d asked people what they wanted, they’d have said faster horses.’ Of course they make mistakes every so often. They’re maverick people - one of them just challenged me to a press up competition, which I don’t think would have happened at Schroders. Some days I feel like a football manager with a team of 11 Balotellis. But the point about Balotelli is he’s good.”   

He continues: “I remember one of my case workers overjoyed, shouting, ‘I’ve got a triple arsonist to house!’ This is a guy who’s been banned from every service, who’s a very troubled man, a really complicated case - and my case worker is happy! You know why? Because ex-offenders are the people who’ll know best how much damage a serious criminal can do to a community.”

Owen feels the tide is changing: “Post riots – and post the worst recession in 50 years - I think there’s been a step change. There’s now a commitment and an understanding to how much the people with whom we work could end up costing. The average prolific offender has 4.3 children by 4.3 women. That can only create a growing inter-generational cycle of offending, of chaotic families and, sad to say, more Baby Peters.”

Owen backs up the point Antonia made about her work: “We provide people, not programmes.” This, I offer, is what differentiates St Giles Trust from a lot of projects run by local councils. “Yes, but often the funding schemes we get tie us into being set up rather like a statutory body. Actually 93 per cent of my funding is restricted – it’s like giving the RNLI a load of cash and saying ‘You can only spend it on a yellow lifeboat. And only use it every Wednesday.’”

Well then, I suggest – perhaps you shouldn’t rely so much on state funding. “We’re an offender charity – that’s what we do and we’re proud of it. But I can hardly go out in the street with my begging tin saying ‘Give a burglar a leg up.’ I can tell you all about the value we create, but it’s a tough sell.”

The figures on value, by the way, are startling. A review of the St Giles Peer Advice Project for the government found it cost £3m, and the evaluation concluded that the total benefits were £16.3m, driven by improvements in employment, education and training and housing and health outcomes. “I know there are charities out there that see winning government contracts as a way of delivering services cheaply, but we’re not one of them,” says Owen.

Despite all this – last year even Sir Gus O’Donnell asked why it wasn’t getting more money - the St Giles Trust continues to struggle for funding. It was recently running a programme in a poor town (it wouldn’t do it any favours to name it, but Owen knows of research that shows The Jeremy Kyle Show takes 12 per cent of its guests from there), working to get mums into work, stopping school truanting, getting families to go to GPs, when the funding was abruptly stopped. “When the councils face cuts, voluntary sector funding is pretty much the first thing to go,” says Owen.

Anyway John, let’s wrap this up. I reckon you should go and visit the place, hang around in their offices, and go out on the street with the scores of ex-offenders working with them and with whom they work. What you’ll see is that they’re just people. And yes, they all made mistakes. It’s just that it’s more complicated than that.

 

The police attempting to regain control during last summer's riots: Photograph: Getty Images

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, Times, Private Eye, The National and the TLS. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture.

Photo: Getty
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Tail docking is described as “barbaric” – so why did the SNP vote to bring it back?

The decision by the SNP to permit the docking of puppies' tails seems bizarre - until you consider the party's divided loyalties.

As Holyrood votes go, it probably doesn't get more emotive than the decision to lift the ban on tail docking - a procedure carried out on three-day-old puppies which involves crushing cartilage, nerves and bone without anaesthetic, and which campaigners have called "barbaric".

The reasoning is that these "working" dogs, flushing out animals to be shot on Scotland's vast hunting estates, can injure their long tails. The British Veterinary Association disagrees, saying the procedure inflicts significant pain and deprives dogs of a "vital form of canine expression". 

So why has the Scottish National Party, with its left-wing rhethoric and substantial block of left-leaning newer members, voted through such a deeply controversial proposal?

One clue is to be found in 2014-15 - not the independence referendum, but the push for land reform which followed it. The extraordinary concentration of land ownership in Scotland - around 430 families or companies own half of the private land - became a touchstone issue for independence campaigners. After September 2014, many transferred their enthusiasm to this issue, demanding a new bill that would kickstart land reform after a decade in the long grass.

This presented a real problem for the SNP. In its longheld tactic of appealing to both left and right, rich and poor, the land issue showed up the cracks. While the new First Minister made rash promises of "radical" reform in November 2015, her cabinet nevertheless included Fergus Ewing, a centre-right politician with links to the landed estates and rural lobby. 
 
Pictures of Ewing clad in tweed alongside gamekeepers at a PR stunt caused some of the party's new membership a twinge of unease. Unedifying rows over fracking, which highlighted Ewing's relationship with the Duke of Buccleuch, did not help. While much was made of the SNP's 56 MPs opposing fox hunting at Westminster, Ewing opposed a Scottish ban more than a decade before
  
Before the SNP made its unprecedented break into the Labour strongholds of the west of Scotland and central belt, the party's support was concentrated in the largely rural east. Perthshire, Banff and Buchan, Moray are places where people voted Tory in the past - and indeed, turned blue once more this June. Not that such a swing can be said to have come entirely from SNP voters. Nevertheless, it does highlights another side of SNP membership that is often forgotten about. "It's said that there are two SNPs," said Professor Ailsa Henderson, professor of political science at the University of Edinburgh. "An SNP voter in Govan is perceived to have a very different profile than another in Perthshire". 
 
This project to appeal to all Scotland - particularly noticeable during Alex Salmond's leadership - produces strange paradoxes, and this tail docking issue is just the latest. The rural lobby is strong, from gamekeepers' associations to hunting proponents to the powerful Countryside Alliance. The current government's proposal to reintroduce the practice didn't come out of the blue. As Green MSP Mark Ruskell explains, the lobbying began with the SNP's victory at Holyrood in 2007. The previous Labour-led "rainbow" parliament, with its seven green MSPs and six socialists, had introduced the Animal Welfare (Scotland) Act, banning the practice of docking as well as fox hunting. 
 
"The gamekeepers were furious," Ruskell said, "And the first thing they did was to lobby the new Scottish government". Ten years later, their wish was granted. "The evidence was rejected by professional bodies, but they still went ahead. It's been spectacularly misjudged," added Ruskell. The power of lobby groups at Holyrood has repeatedly been raised as a concern by campaigners and parliamentarians alike, with last year's Lobbying Act cricitised as being far too weak to ensure real transparency. Pressure from gamekeepers and shooting groups, Ruskell said, influenced the whole way the evidence was put together. One report was simply a survey of self-selecting shooting estates, describing the frequency of tail injuries. 
 
For its part the Scottish government defended the move by pointing out that the rules will still be more restrictive than in other parts of the UK. Only a vet can make the decision to shorten tails - "no more than the end third" - and it will apply only to spaniels and hunt point retrievers. "We have seen enough evidence that some working dogs are suffering tail injuries to make the case for the law being changed", said a government spokesperson. "Scotland is a nation of animal lovers and we take the welfare of our pets, animals and livestock very seriously." 
 
Reaction from SNP members online has been fairly damning, with some talking of leaving the party - though others have defended the decision. The next big showdowns in Holyrood on animal welfare are likely to be just as emotive: the use of electric shock collars on dogs, and the prosecution of wildlife crime (or, how to deal with the fact that poisoned, bludgeoned birds of prey keep turning up on grouse shooting estates). The latter in particular will test, once again, the direction of a party split between appeasing a land management lobby, and meeting the high expectations of its newer members. 
 

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