Who will magistrates turn to?

Whilst reading Trevor Groves fascinating and insightful guide, aimed at neophyte magistrates, I was jolted into a tardy realisation. It reminded me just how historically durable was the time honoured designation 'Officer of the court' (dating from 1907) in enabling me to engage, assist and inform sentencers when working as a probation officer in some of the busiest magistrates’ courts in London.

On one particularly memorable court day, I was notified that I had to interview three defendants who had been put back for what were known as fast delivery reports, one of whom was in custody. The sometimes febrile working ethos of court practice could at times present as overwhelming. This was partly due to the vagaries of variable IT, the unavailability of court papers, or the uncertainties as to when a defendant might be presented from the local remand prison.

I introduced myself to Paul (not his real name) soon after arrival and spoke briefly to his overstretched duty solicitor. The bald facts of his case suggested that alcohol dependency was a trigger to a public order offence that bordered on a more serious pattern of troubled encounters with authority figures. The interview needed to be sensitively undertaken but the pressures of time (the irascible court usher noted that the court was awaiting my deliberations) meant that perforce would be reliant on contacting a partnership alcohol worker who provided a more detailed narrative. In the event, his custodial remand on arrest, resulted in time served and the court opted to impose a conditional discharge (with the expectation that he would continue to avail himself of supportive interventions).

Meeting with Helen (not her real name) was a considerable challenge, not least due to her having attended court with her children, and without any contingent child care arrangements. I was able to prevail upon on of my probation colleagues to look after the children in a less busy court annex whilst I interviewed her. Possession of Class A drugs and failing to attend a prior court hearing pushed her case towards the custodial threshold. So, with measured concern for such an outcome, and the recognition that she was already under a community sentence, enabled contact with her supervising officer by phone and a concurrent sentence following an oral assessment was sanctioned by the court. I offered to provide any additional observations to the justices as I went into open court to give a more authoritative presence (‘we appreciate the experienced probation officer's assistance and are going to follow his proposal'). 

Helen left the court with some relief at the outcome, and I reflected on the evident impact that loss of liberty might have had on her children now gambolling out past the steady inrush of court users and professionals. With little time to collect my thoughts or enjoy anything akin to a lunch break, I was notified that Russell (not his real name) had arrived in the prison van and could be seen in the cell area. The Dantesque scene in the cell area, often made me reel inside, but I fought off the sense of quiet despair that could so easily grip one, I interviewed Russell in a locked room with security personnel close by.

The presenting facts of the court case had a weary familiarity about them. Russell had been arrested in the street adjoining his temporary address for threatening a member of the public in what appeared to be a 'psychotic' like rant that clearly represented, on looking at the accompanying documentation, a worrying relapse in his response to the input from the community mental health team. His psycho-social history was a patchwork of troubled episodes when unresponsive to such interventions, emergency hospital admissions and a dual diagnostic support framework that looked like it was once again demanding another possible coercive ‘therapeutic' intervention. I struggled to engage with Russell, who likened me to a ‘traffic warden'! It seems that these public servants often featured in his, at times, distorted cognitions, and I recognised that a more considered mental health assessment was needed. The court agreed to a suggested adjournment, although it did mean that he would be returned to the hospital wing at the remand prison awaiting this assessment when next at court. 

With plans to outsource the bulk of probation work to the private and third sector now being challenged in the courts. I recall that one of magistrates, in something of an obiter dicta after Russell had been escorted from the dock, turned to me and noted, ‘It is good to know that the Probation Service is on hand to assist the bench with this most difficult and unfortunate defendant'.

Maybe Justice Secretary Chris Grayling might belatedly ponder, in pushing ahead with his dangerously ill-considered reforms, who my magistrate colleagues will turn to when Russell next makes a court appearance and they ask for an 'Officer of the court’?