James Morton delves into the verbal minefields of racial remarks, jury duty and directing the trafic




Bearing in mind the cultural and racial awareness training that all members of the judiciary – both lay and professional – are now meant to undergo, it was interesting to see that the Lord Chancellor has reportedly declined to dismiss or demote the chairman of a Manchester bench, who, telling a colleague about the distance he had to go to find a fish and chip shop, referred to ‘bloody foreigners’. A slap on the wrist was deemed sufficient.



That comes in sharp contrast to the decision of the House of Lords in the case of Philip Rogers, which ruled that the use of the expression ‘bloody foreigners’ could come within the definition of racial abuse. Mr Rogers, who was disabled, was trying to overtake three Spanish ladies on his motorised mobility scooter. There was evidently some trouble and allegedly he chased after them to a kebab house after telling them to go home to their own country and calling them ‘bloody foreigners’. Their Lords held that ‘racial group’ could include citizenship under the Crime and Disorder Act 1998.



Mr Rogers had received some 80 hours of community service. Of course, the magistrate did not chase the ‘foreigners’ to the fish and chip shop.



So it seems as though the ideas of my former magistrate friend may not come to the rescue. He said while it would undoubtedly be racial abuse to call a waiter/bus driver/solicitor etc ‘Scottish scum’, it would not be so if he referred to a city. ‘Glasgow git’ or ‘Cowdenbeath clown’ – or something even more alliterative and abusive – would keep him out of the grasp of the Director of Public Prosecutions. It is certainly nothing I would advise my clients to put to the test. But certain groups refer to themselves and each other in terms that would be racist if used by someone from outside the group. I suppose it all comes down to the remark by Owen Wister’s eponymous hero who says to Trampas, the villain in The Virginian, ‘When you call me that, smile’.



***



Some time ago in these pages, I provided a precedent for a model summing-up which, however biased, could not be faulted by the criminal division of the Court of Appeal. Flushed with its modest success, I can now offer a precedent for those solicitors whose clients wish to dodge jury service, purely in the hypothetical, of course.



‘Thank you for the summons requiring me to appear for jury service at (insert) Crown Court. I have long been awaiting such an invitation and am delighted that, at last, I have received one. I have over the years believed that not sufficient funding and support has been given to our police, who have the unenviable task of trying to clear the streets of the vermin who clutter it and the courts. I also note that the conviction rate in this area has fallen drastically in recent months and I shall look forward to doing my bit to restore the status quo (use of the Latin tag is obligatory). It has also come to my notice that trials are taking far too long and that as a result public money – which could be better spent on building more prisons – is being wasted. You may rest assured that I will be doing what I can from the prosecution’s opening statement to lobby my fellow jurors into expeditiously dealing with the case in accordance with the prosecution’s wishes.



‘Perhaps you could advise me as to dress code. Unless I hear from you in the meantime, you will be able to recognise me from my bowler hat, furled umbrella with whangee handle, regimental tie, and, if the court sits on St George’s Day, a rose. In closing, I should add that if there are any vacancies for jurors before the date on which I am summoned, despite my almost total deafness, I shall be pleased to fill them.’



That should do the trick nicely.



***



An ex-flying squad officer sent me a story I had not heard before. The officer was giving evidence before a lay bench in the committal proceedings of a high-profile and contentious case. Counsel for the defence was mounting an attack on the subject of verbals when suddenly the chairman interrupted, saying: ‘Now listen here, mister, I won’t have this in my court. If I think the copper’s lying, I’ll tell him so and until I do you sit down and keep your place.’



Of course, with extra training…



The same officer told me of his time at a London station in the days of point duty (when the police directed traffic). One of the old hands found a petrol tanker parked illegally while the driver was having his breakfast. He went into the cafe and threatened the man with a summons. On being told that would mean the sack, the policeman offered a ticket or ‘the treatment’. The man asked what this was but the officer refused to tell him. He could take one or the other. The driver decided to chance his arm and accept ‘the treatment’. It consisted of his standing in the point-duty position and singing the petrol company’s commercial jingle for five minutes. ‘Salt of the earth,’ my friend told me admiringly. ‘Shame coppers aren’t like that now.’



James Morton is a former criminal law specialist solicitor and now a freelance journalist