Former Liberal Democrat MP Mike Hancock appearing on BBC News.
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The Mike Hancock saga shows that politicians can't be judged by the law alone

Natural justice, not merely the law, must be seen to be applied in cases of wrongdoing.

There’s a great Rumpole of the Bailey story, where our eponymous hero, as ever defending not prosecuting, calls on the jury to administer, not the law, but justice for the accused, who is clearly guilty of the crime for which he is charged – but for entirely understandable reasons. I am often reminded of this, and ponder whether the same shouldn’t apply to elected politicians, only in reverse?

There’s nothing very positive to say about the Mike Hancock saga from anyone’s point of view and no one, save the complainant, comes out of this with any sort of credit. But the whole saga raises one interesting point: should our public representatives sit, not above the law, but in fact below it?

The major difficulty for the Lib Dems in the Hancock case, as with many of the recent cases of inappropriate behavior (on a wildly ranging scale it should be said) is the fact that often not only were the charges not legally proven, but the authorities felt that there was insufficient evidence to even start the full legal process. And therefore, as the accused are (rightly) innocent until proven guilty, they feel no need to resign nor often face any penalty under party disciplinary procedures, however much many folk feel they should. And indeed, when calls are made for elected officials to do the decent thing, their supporters more often than not revert to the clarion call that this wouldn’t be justice. But of course, what they mean is, this wouldn’t be the law.

Now, I’m not advocating that there should be some sort of built-in lower level of proof required for politicians than the rest of us; that would hardly be liberal. But I do wonder if everyone connected with politics should accept that not only does the law need to be applied to every case, but natural justice needs to be not just applied – but to be seen to be applied. And falling on your sword for the greater good, not of the party you are a member of, but of the electorate you are there to represent, might be the best service you can do.

Sure, it’s a pipe dream. Certainly it opens up the door to wrongful accusations becoming just another political weapon. Of course, on many occasions, the innocent will suffer – we all know that in politics, you can get smoke without fire. But it might just be a price worth paying.

Richard Morris blogs at A View From Ham Common, which was named Best New Blog at the 2011 Lib Dem Conference

Richard Morris blogs at A View From Ham Common, which was named Best New Blog at the 2011 Lib Dem Conference

Photo: André Spicer
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“It’s scary to do it again”: the five-year-old fined £150 for running a lemonade stand

Enforcement officers penalised a child selling home-made lemonade in the street. Her father tells the full story. 

It was a lively Saturday afternoon in east London’s Mile End. Groups of people streamed through residential streets on their way to a music festival in the local park; booming bass could be heard from the surrounding houses.

One five-year-old girl who lived in the area had an idea. She had been to her school’s summer fête recently and looked longingly at the stalls. She loved the idea of setting up her own stall, and today was a good day for it.

“She eventually came round to the idea of selling lemonade,” her father André Spicer tells me. So he and his daughter went to their local shop to buy some lemons. They mixed a few jugs of lemonade, the girl made a fetching A4 sign with some lemons drawn on it – 50p for a small cup, £1 for a large – and they carried a table from home to the end of their road. 

“People suddenly started coming up and buying stuff, pretty quickly, and they were very happy,” Spicer recalls. “People looked overjoyed at this cute little girl on the side of the road – community feel and all that sort of stuff.”

But the heart-warming scene was soon interrupted. After about half an hour of what Spicer describes as “brisk” trade – his daughter’s recipe secret was some mint and a little bit of cucumber, for a “bit of a British touch” – four enforcement officers came striding up to the stand.

Three were in uniform, and one was in plain clothes. One uniformed officer turned the camera on his vest on, and began reciting a legal script at the weeping five-year-old.

“You’re trading without a licence, pursuant to x, y, z act and blah dah dah dah, really going through a script,” Spicer tells me, saying they showed no compassion for his daughter. “This is my job, I’m doing it and that’s it, basically.”

The girl burst into tears the moment they arrived.

“Officials have some degree of intimidation. I’m a grown adult, so I wasn’t super intimidated, but I was a bit shocked,” says Spicer. “But my daughter was intimidated. She started crying straight away.”

As they continued to recite their legalese, her father picked her up to try to comfort her – but that didn’t stop the officers giving her stall a £150 fine and handing them a penalty notice. “TRADING WITHOUT LICENCE,” it screamed.


Picture: André Spicer

“She was crying and repeating, ‘I’ve done a bad thing’,” says Spicer. “As we walked home, I had to try and convince her that it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her who had done something bad.”

She cried all the way home, and it wasn’t until she watched her favourite film, Brave, that she calmed down. It was then that Spicer suggested next time they would “do it all correctly”, get a permit, and set up another stand.

“No, I don’t want to, it’s a bit scary to do it again,” she replied. Her father hopes that “she’ll be able to get over it”, and that her enterprising spirit will return.

The Council has since apologised and cancelled the fine, and called on its officials to “show common sense and to use their powers sensibly”.

But Spicer felt “there’s a bigger principle here”, and wrote a piece for the Telegraph arguing that children in modern Britain are too restricted.

He would “absolutely” encourage his daughter to set up another stall, and “I’d encourage other people to go and do it as well. It’s a great way to spend a bit of time with the kids in the holidays, and they might learn something.”

A fitting reminder of the great life lesson: when life gives you a fixed penalty notice, make lemonade.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.