Who gets asked to “stop and account” and why?

Being mistaken for a pickpocket on the London Underground gives Sunder Katwala an insight into the changing practices of policing.

As I reached the top of the stairs at Embankment tube station, heading around to the ticket barrier, a voice behind me asked me to stop.

Had I dropped something?

As I turned around, the man produced a police ID, and said he wanted to ask me some questions.

Odd. I asked to see the police badge a second time. It looked authentic enough.

I was told that I had been observed as exhibiting possibly suspicious behavior, so the officer would like to know what I was doing and where I was going.

It was about quarter past six on a Thursday evening. I was taking the tube to Charing Cross station, so that I could get a train home, I said. The sort of thing that a lot of people were up to around that time in the evening, I imagine.

What was the suspicious behavior, I asked?

It turned out that I had been spotted in the very act of changing my mind.

You were headed in one direction to the Jubilee Line escalator, but you spotted a uniformed officer and went the other way, I was told. That had formed the basis for a theory, he explained, that I might well be a pickpocket, looking for a victim to target. Apparently, while cunningly avoiding surveillance by the law too.

I had indeed changed direction. After taking several steps towards the Jubilee Line escalator – and my most direct route home, via London Bridge – I had walked across to the much emptier platform on my right, realising that I could spend less time on the tube, and avoid those long Jubilee line escalators too, if I headed to Charing Cross.  

I hadn’t seen a policeman, just a lot of wet commuters with coats and umbrellas.

Perhaps I was in two minds because Westminster wasn’t my usual route home. I explained. I had been at the BBC offices on Millbank after doing an interview for Radio 4. Coming out into heavy rain, I had ducked into Westminster tube rather than walking down Whitehall to Charing Cross. (Historian Anthony Beevor and I had been discussing the government’s plans to commemorate the centenary of the Great War. We weren’t in the same studio, so I can’t use Professor Beevor as any kind of control in terms of his chances of having been stopped at Westminster tube on his way home.)

Was that suspicious enough to be stopped, I wondered? The explanation for stopping me meant, I realised, meant that the two police officers had probably come from the ticket hall at Westminster, and followed me on and off the tube at Embankment. Perhaps the slightly lazy one stop journey added to their suspicion that I was targeting my next mark.

Some people could hang around on the tube, for no reason, perhaps for eight hours at a time, in order to carry out criminal activities, hence the activity of stopping some people.

I had, I was told, given a perfectly legitimate reason for being on the tube network that evening, and so could go on my way.

Before going our separate ways, it did seem worth a couple of minutes more dig into how to carry out that tricky job of protecting us all from these undesirable criminals without too much inconvenience to law-abiding citizens, and in a way which Londoners of all types could trust.

My wife would be amused, I said, at my being taken for a pickpocket, I said. Why? They asked. She would doubt that I would make much of a pickpocket, I suggested, though I couldn’t be totally sure, having never tried it.

It felt to me that, even if I were a mastermind pickpocket, that I pulled off quite a good impression of a commuter. I was even, for me, at least a tiny bit more spruced up than normal, because my colleagues had rightly insisted I put a tie on to go and talk about the solemn issue of Remembrance on the BBC news channel about half past three. But perhaps the criminal masterminds can pull off the commuter look too, making decisions about who to suspect rather trickier.

So how did they decide? Was there any profiling involved, I asked. Of what kind?

Were single Asian males in their thirties travelling alone more likely to be stopped, I asked.

No. We just try to base it on behavior, I was told.

I am never quite sure whether or not to believe this official "no profiling" policy. I explained that my uncertainty about that is not based on a great deal more than my (inconclusive) anecdotal experience of seemingly happening to be stopped more often than my colleagues in think-tanks and journalism – though, only, as it happens at transport hubs. I am only, however, talking about four times in the last ten years overall: once at Stanstead airport, once at Luton, once on the Eurostar platform when it used to be at Waterloo, and now by the ticket barriers at Embankment.  

Any think-tanker knows that one could never derive any proof from such as small anecdotal sample.

But it has led me to ask the same question, and always to receive the same reply.

When I asked what details I could have from the police officers, I was told it was possible to record the incident, so I thought that I would like to do that.

Looking over the officer’s shoulder as he used his rather smart e-device, I questioned his initially selecting the option “white”.

I don’t think “white” is the right option for me, I said.

“That’s what I would have said you looked like to me”, he said. 

I wondered if that was over-compensating a little from one potential inference of the earlier profiling question.

But I thought non-white was the right answer if the question was ethnicity, while British was fine for nationality. That threw up a much more extensive menu, for “self-defined ethnicity” where I could choose an “M3 Mixed White/Asian” to reflect my Indian-Irish parentage..

That was one small insight into the stuff that the official statistics are made of.

Recording the stop seems to involve quite a lot of information – including giving your name, date and place of birth, and your home address if you filled out the full thing.

I wasn’t entirely sure that the opportunity would necessarily have been spontaneously offered if I hadn’t specifically asked for some type of identification or record, and opened up a broader policing policy discussion.

And the initial instinct to flag me for the computer as "white" offered confirms the insight that any statistics can only be as accurate as the source material.

But the officers were professional and polite throughout, and not necessarily any less so before I had mentioned coming out of a BBC interview either.

The hand-held printer – rather in the style of the Apple Store – took two or three minutes to print out, so we were able to have a bit more of a chat about policing, trust and indeed the politics of the think-tank scene. I established that I could do whatever I wanted with the receipt of the encounter – if, for example, I wanted to put it on Facebook – and was even given the Twitter account of the British Transport police. (Another culture shift there, as it tweeted me back this morning). 

The receipt shows that it was printed eight minutes after the stop, but we seemed to have covered a fair amount of ground.

It showed that the “power” was “Rec 61 – Stop and Account”, and the outcome was “no further action”.

The policeman asked me how I had found this experience, personally.

I said that it had been odd – but they had shown a professional willingness to answer my questions about it.

Stop and account, if you will, but it needs to work the other way around too.

I had found a rather more surly response when asking similar questions when being interrogated about my business at an airport. The policeman had found the same when flying to the US, so we turned out to have that in common too.

I said that I understood that the police have a job to do. My instinct was to be sympathetic to them, I said, because I felt they had tried to come quite a long way over the last fifteen years, certainly from some of the controversies that I had followed closely when I had lived in Eltham, on the Well Hall Road, during the inquiry into the Stephen Lawrence case. So my instinct is that progress has been made – and that more progress is possible.

The question mark on which people want assurance have is that policing is effective, transparent and fair.

I think that may be why questions such as who gets stopped – and why – can still matter.

 

A policeman stands guard in an underground station. Photograph: Getty Images

Sunder Katwala is director of British Future and former general secretary of the Fabian Society.

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Will Euroscepticism prove an unbeatable advantage in the Conservative leadership race?

Conservative members who are eager for Brexit are still searching for a heavyweight champion - and they could yet inherit the earth.

Put your money on Liam Fox? The former Defence Secretary has been given a boost by the news that ConservativeHome’s rolling survey of party members preferences for the next Conservative leader. Jeremy Wilson at BusinessInsider and James Millar at the Sunday Post have both tipped Fox for the top job.

Are they right? The expectation among Conservative MPs is that there will be several candidates from the Tory right: Dominic Raab, Priti Patel and potentially Owen Paterson could all be candidates, while Boris Johnson, in the words of one: “rides both horses – is he the candidate of the left, of the right, or both?”

MPs will whittle down the field of candidates to a top two, who will then be voted on by the membership.  (As Graham Brady, chair of the 1922 Committee, notes in his interview with my colleague George Eaton, Conservative MPs could choose to offer a wider field if they so desired, but would be unlikely to surrender more power to party activists.)

The extreme likelihood is that that contest will be between two candidates: George Osborne and not-George Osborne.  “We know that the Chancellor has a bye to the final,” one minister observes, “But once you’re in the final – well, then it’s anyone’s game.”

Could “not-George Osborne” be Liam Fox? Well, the difficulty, as one MP observes, is we don’t really know what the Conservative leadership election is about:

“We don’t even know what the questions are to which the candidates will attempt to present themselves as the answer. Usually, that question would be: who can win us the election? But now that Labour have Corbyn, that question is taken care of.”

So what’s the question that MPs will be asking? We simply don’t know – and it may be that they come to a very different conclusion to their members, just as in 2001, when Ken Clarke won among MPs – before being defeated in a landslide by Conservative activists.

Much depends not only on the outcome of the European referendum, but also on its conduct. If the contest is particularly bruising, it may be that MPs are looking for a candidate who will “heal and settle”, in the words of one. That would disadvantage Fox, who will likely be a combative presence in the European referendum, and could benefit Boris Johnson, who, as one MP put it, “rides both horses” and will be less intimately linked with the referendum and its outcome than Osborne.

But equally, it could be that Euroscepticism proves to be a less powerful card than we currently expect. Ignoring the not inconsiderable organisational hurdles that have to be cleared to beat Theresa May, Boris Johnson, and potentially any or all of the “next generation” of Sajid Javid, Nicky Morgan or Stephen Crabb, we simply don’t know what the reaction of Conservative members to the In-Out referendum will be.

Firstly, there’s a non-trivial possibility that Leave could still win, despite its difficulties at centre-forward. The incentive to “reward” an Outer will be smaller. But if Britain votes to Remain – and if that vote is seen by Conservative members as the result of “dirty tricks” by the Conservative leadership – it could be that many members, far from sticking around for another three to four years to vote in the election, simply decide to leave. The last time that Cameron went against the dearest instincts of many of his party grassroots, the result was victory for the Prime Minister – and an activist base that, as the result of defections to Ukip and cancelled membership fees, is more socially liberal and more sympathetic to Cameron than it was before. Don’t forget that, for all the worry about “entryism” in the Labour leadership, it was “exitism” – of Labour members who supported David Miliband and liked the New Labour years  - that shifted that party towards Jeremy Corbyn.

It could be that if – as Brady predicts in this week’s New Statesman – the final two is an Inner and an Outer, the Eurosceptic candidate finds that the members who might have backed them are simply no longer around.

It comes back to the biggest known unknown in the race to succeed Cameron: Conservative members. For the first time in British political history, a Prime Minister will be chosen, not by MPs with an electoral mandate of their own or by voters at a general election but by an entirelyself-selecting group: party members. And we simply don't know enough about what they feel - yet. 

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog. He usually writes about politics.