Police Reform and Social Responsibility Bill

Baroness Berridge Excerpts

Wednesday 27th April 2011 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Berridge]

My Lords, “Rutland is too large a place” was the response to my tentative request to Garter to be connected to the county of my birth. Has England’s smallest historic county ever been so flattered? I think not. However, I happily settled on the Vale of Catmose, as it was the name of my comprehensive school, and in the time I have today I hope to live up to Rutland’s motto, “Much in Little”.

Joining your Lordships’ House caused me to reflect on the input of so many teachers, friends and mentors, without whom I am sure I would not be here today. The uninitiated like me needed teachers to speak of a place they called Oxbridge, and after Rutland, Cambridge seemed a huge metropolis. To be closer than 20 miles to a cinema was, to my mind, positively cosmopolitan. To be corrected, however, that it was no coincidence that our law lecturer and the textbook author had the same name opened up a world of learning I never could have dreamt of.

Before law studies lay a gap year in Ghana, a country I have now known for over 20 years, a land of gold, cocoa, stable democracy and world-renowned politicians such as Kofi Annan. But I lived as a lone white face among a million people in the last days of communicating by thin blue airmail paper. The novelty of being so obvious and treated as somehow special soon wore off and I longed for anonymity, privacy and the perceived safety of not being different from everyone else.

Unfortunately, at Cambridge I required the excellent services of Addenbrooke’s Hospital, so my final year was deferred. Not to be outdone, I did voluntary work in the beautiful twin island state of Trinidad and Tobago while my contemporaries did their finals. Trinidad is the major Caribbean economy and I was surprised to find that it had a population which was then approximately 40 per cent black and 40 Asian. I had studied GCSE and A-level history, but was only then beginning to learn the tragic and utterly courageous stories behind much black migration around the globe. Trinidad is a peaceful and prosperous society, but not without complexities from its colonial past.

Upon completion of my law degree there were nine wonderful years as a barrister in Kings Chambers, Manchester, after which I moved to the truly cosmopolitan city of London. I came to direct the CCF—not the Combined Cadet Force but the Conservative Christian Fellowship—a great organisation, but at that time lacking in denominational and ethnic diversity. A 2007 Tearfund survey found that 48 per cent of the British black community is regularly in church. Meeting and learning from leaders of the British black community has allowed me to be the recipient of much hospitality and patience, as I struggled to grasp the issues.

Insights from Ghana and Trinidad were valuable but inadequate. I was forced to confront a reality that was not my own experience, and never more so than when the appalling murder of Rhys Jones hit the headlines. The response of the public, media commentators and politicians was utterly appropriate in its emotion, its volume and its outrage. But why when so many young black people died in similar circumstances did it seem that the response was more muted? Was it because the media were not needed to catch the culprits? Was it because the victims were slightly older? Did they die when other items legitimately dominated the news cycle? Taking all that into account, I could not get rid of the lingering suspicion that there were assumptions about these black youngsters and that that lack of outrage would communicate to relatives that young black lives were less valuable in our society. I am not seeking to label this or give it an “ism”, but I believe it to be there and to be wrong.

I am humbled to speak alongside my noble friend Lady Newlove, who, along with others whom I have been privileged to meet—Patsy McKie of Mothers Against Violence, Richard Taylor of the Damilola Taylor Trust, and the Reverend Les Isaacs of Street Pastors, to name but a few—is working to change things for the better. But people have gone beyond community response and are involved in the matter which your Lordships are considering today in this Bill: the governance of our police. Any wisdom I proffer owes much to Pastor Nims Obunge, adviser to both Operation Blunt and Operation Trident, and to the chair of West Midlands Police Authority, Bishop Derek Webley, the first black police authority chairman. It is sad to note that the late Lord Scarman, who reported on the Brixton riots, did not live to witness Bishop Webley's appointment.

Any branch of government, whether the legislature, the judiciary or public institutions such as the police, must have legitimacy. Legitimate government requires the consent of the people and must accordingly be representative of the people whom they seek to govern. It is my sincere desire that directly elected police and crime commissioners and the police and crime panels will reflect the population and, in particular, the ethnic diversity of the people whom they police.

Further, the social responsibility that the Bill is seeking to engender around alcohol consumption is already present in many of Britain's ethnic minority communities. I soon learnt when hosting events with guests from the black-led or Chinese churches that very few people would want alcohol. Legislation alone cannot create a culture, café-style or otherwise. I hope that the values of self-restraint, moderation and abstinence which are also found among the British Pakistani and Bangladeshi communities will come to dominate English and British values around alcohol, rather than those that the police often encounter on our streets in the early mornings.

As the youngest woman in your Lordships’ House, joining felt as exciting and daunting as the latest extreme sport. I remain amazed at the expertise and wisdom of this Chamber which I have been privileged to join. Some of your Lordships wrote the text books that I studied from.

Finally, I am extremely grateful to the doorkeepers, the Attendants' Office, to catering staff and to Black Rod's Office for their hospitality, answers to my endless queries and for the welcome given to me and my guests on the day of my introduction. I have particularly appreciated being able to dine with and get to know Peers from all Benches and I look forward to working with your Lordships on issues of mutual concern. Your Lordships’ kind generosity to me as a new Member has made my time in the House not quite so daunting.