Simon Reevell
Main Page: Simon Reevell (Conservative - Dewsbury)Department Debates - View all Simon Reevell's debates with the Home Office
(12 years, 3 months ago)
Commons ChamberI am grateful for the opportunity to make some observations about three matters raised in yesterday’s Gracious Speech: one proposal that should be straightforward, one that can be made so and one that I fear cannot. I should also declare an interest, as registered, not least because it includes prosecuting in the criminal courts, on which I shall touch.
The proposed offence of drug-driving does, as other Members have already said, actually exist. It is in section (4) of the Road Traffic Act 1988 and has been around since then. It involves
“driving…unfit…through drink or drugs.”
The difficulty is with measuring “unfit”, which according to the Act occurs at the point when
“ability to drive properly is…impaired.”
The test is designed with alcohol in mind, and drugs require a much simpler approach, recognising that possession of alcohol is legal but possession of real problem drugs is not.
Consumption of alcohol is legal, so Parliament sets a level beyond which the assumption is that driving is impaired. Prohibited drugs, which by definition are not legal, need no such tolerance. The possession of such drugs is an offence, so it would be bizarre to have a threshold for driving which was based on impairment. All that is required is a simple law stating that a person in charge of a motor vehicle while in possession of a prohibited substance commits an offence and that possession shall include that which is within the person. The difference between drugs in the pocket and drugs in the bloodstream would be reflected in sentencing and evidence would be obtained using the same technology as is used in compulsory drugs tests carried out for the armed forces and many other organisations. The same defences available to those charged with drink-driving, such as inadvertent consumption, would be available. I hope that the opportunity to deal with the matter simply and effectively will not be missed.
The second area is the proposal to extend powers to access communications. It is worth pausing to consider the current position, in which telephone traffic, the location of telephones, and the record and content of text messages are all used and provide valuable evidence, along with entries from Facebook, e-mail and the like. If the police recover an accused’s computer or telephone, web searching and web content will all feature at trial.
The proposals simply make the matter more straightforward in the context of the developing use of instant communication. It is difficult, if not impossible, to draw any real distinction between the fact of a text message and the fact of an instant message. It would be ridiculous if the difference between the text icon and messaging icon was the difference between the availability of evidence or otherwise. However, the role of messaging and the growth in its use has been huge. If it had been suggested in 2000 that the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act would compel people to lodge all their private post with the Royal Mail for 12 months, there would have been uproar, but the suggestion for electronic messaging is the 2012 equivalent. It may be necessary, but as the powers change so much so, too, must the safeguards.
Legislation of that type, sold on the back of the fight against paedophiles and terrorists, ends up in the hands of a wide variety of public bodies for which its use is totally disproportionate. If the Government want that significant extension of the scope of the data that they can see, there must be real safeguards such as the identification of specific offences to which the legislation will apply; disclosure to police and security services only; and access via a High Court judge’s order to named officers only. The legislation can be made to work, but there has to be a recognition that although it is a progression, it is a significant progression and safeguards are necessary.
The third area is somewhat different. I am afraid that if it is read carefully, the consultation document on the increased use of closed courts sets out a policy that appears to have at its heart a desire to protect Governments from direct or indirect embarrassment. For decades, there have been examples of Government Departments appearing to regard the public interest as meaning, at least in part, that errors are hidden and omissions denied. Public interest does not mean that.
The proposals are at odds with our principles of open justice, and the justifications for the departure in the consultation document are few and unconvincing. If the British state ensures that it never again colludes with those who kidnap and torture in the name of justice, we will not need to worry about Norwich Pharmacal applications on behalf of the victims.
The measures are not proposed for the criminal courts, of course, but it is to the civil courts that the citizen comes seeking remedy against the state. To cloak those courts in secrecy is good news for those who fear accountability, but not for those who wish to shine light on the extent of their mistreatment by the state. I hope that the recognition that the proposal cannot be extended into the criminal courts, and the realisation that a Minister should not decide whether it should apply in the civil courts, is, in fact, the beginning of an acceptance that the proposal is simply wrong.