How to keep politics out of policing

Just how independent are the non-party-affiliated candidates for the new Police and Crime Commissioner positions?

The Police and Crime Commissioner (PCC) elections are almost upon us. On 15 November 2012, we go to the polls, in what will likely be an extremely disappointing turnout, to elect the future leaders of the criminal justice system in our local areas. Elections are taking place in 41 separate areas, with a mix of party-affiliated and independent candidates vying for our votes. The question is – how “independent” are these independents?

Much has been made recently about the fairness of the PCC elections. Independent candidates, whilst trying to keep up with their party counterparts, are still required to find a deposit of £5,000 just to get on the ballot paper – ten times the amount needed to stand in Parliamentary General Elections – and that’s before the campaigning starts. Additionally, in ordinary elections, candidates are only allowed to spend around £12,000 on their campaigns. For the PCC elections, the figure is closer to £100,000. So the question being posed in the press is: do party candidates have an unfair advantage?

Well, yes and no.

They do have access to party funds, making it easier to enter the race to begin with, and to campaign on a grand scale. However, a recent survey commissioned by YouGov found that 61 per cent of people were against the idea of party candidates being elected into PCC positions. When taking account of age, 74 per cent of the "over 60s" category (the group most likely to act upon their voting intentions) stated that PCCs should not represent a political party. Of everyone sampled, only 11 per cent thought it was acceptable for candidates to have party allegiances.

This sentiment has been a key argument in many independent manifestos. “Free from political pressure” seems to be the mantra of the day. However, upon delving into the manifestos of some independent PCC candidates, proposed policies seem to be dripping with popular punitiveness – the policies of the extreme right of Conservative thinking. For this reason, I suggest that, although candidates may be independent from party interference, they are certainly not independent from political ideology.

Take, for example, the following statements:

“I am advocating a hardline approach. Hardcore thugs must go to jail, not be let off as many are at present. Letting people off just makes things worse and in the end creates more problems.”

“First you may be reprimanded (several times), given final warnings and then formally depending upon age cautioned and then eventually end up in court. Court sanctions can be modest and even then often not complied with. The learned behaviour for this small group of individuals is one of petty crime pays, because the risk of real sanctions is frankly negligible. The sanctions available to the police and others who work hard in the criminal justice system are just not there. Outrageously prison sentencing policy is driven by the number of places available, not protecting us.”

Both of these statements refer to antisocial behaviour in local areas. The first was made by a Conservative MP – the newly-appointed justice secretary, Chris Grayling. The second is from a collection of soundbites from the website of Lincolnshire’s “only truly independent” candidate for the PCC role, David Bowles. These statements seem to portray the same thing, and it should not be forgotten that Chris Grayling was bought in to replace former justice secretary Ken Clarke – predominantly for ideological reasons – to appease the punitive Conservative right. It is evident, just from these short quotes, that, although some Independent candidates do not have party allegiances to contend with, the remnants of ideological thinking are absolutely on show in some of the Independent manifestos. 

So what would a truly independent manifesto look like?

For me, it would draw on evidence from the fields of criminology, and desistance-based research. Naturally, the topic that is foremost in people’s minds – antisocial behaviour – would take centre stage, as it has done in the majority of PCC candidates’ campaigns. Research shows that, after being reprimanded a small number of times, young people in particular will cease their antisocial actions. For this reason, an evidence-based manifesto would encourage community payback initiatives, incorporating the principles of restorative justice, as opposed to a more punitive approach, such as imprisonment, as advocated by the likes of Grayling and Bowles. 

To take this further, non-criminal arrangements, such as informal warnings from police officers, will often be enough to deter young people from engaging in antisocial behaviour. A scheme such as this non-criminal approach would also result in the young person not obtaining a criminal record, meaning that the negative impact of having a record – such as poorer long-term employment prospects – can be avoided, enhancing the likelihood of long-term desistance from crime.

Police visibility is also a hot topic. However, Officer numbers need to be balanced with the requirement set by central Government to make financial cutbacks. One way of doing this could be to recruit increased numbers of volunteers – Special Constables who, unlike expensive Police Community Support Officers (PCSOs), have the same powers of arrest as regular Officers. This increases local visibility levels, and harnesses volunteers’ enthusiasm and knowledge of their local areas, whilst keeping costs down.

It should be borne in mind that, eventually, the PCC role is likely to incorporate all aspects of local criminal justice, including the Courts, Probation, and some Prisons. With this in mind, a complete manifesto would address the challenges faced by these institutions, as well as the police. For example, PCC candidates should outline their support for sentencing policy that keeps many low-level offenders out of prison, and encourages community sentences that provide opportunities for community payback, as well as providing the offender with a chance to improve their employment prospects and education level.

To conclude, if we really want to keep politics out of policing, and develop an effective and efficient criminal justice system, we should leave ideological thinking at the polling station door, and vote for evidence-based policies. Only then can a candidate call themselves “truly independent”.

A full list of candidates for Lincolnshire, and the rest of the country, along with further information about PCCs and the election, can be viewed at www.policeelections.com.

 

Photograph: Getty Images

Craig is a forensic psychology blogger interested in evidence-based criminal justice and desistance from crime. He tweets as @CraigHarper19.

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era