Why I bang on about protesters’ rights
May 1, 2011
Because I don’t want our country to be a place where this happens.
Three street theatre performers, including a professor of anthropology, were preparing to protest against the monarchy with a mock guillotine in Soho Square on Friday. Last Thursday, Police sent three police cars and two police vans to arrest them outside the professor’s house and charged them with conspiracy to cause public nuisance and breach of the peace.
(This seems to be an attempt to do an end-run around the House of Lords’ decision in Laporte, which required imminence before breach of the peace powers could be exercised.)
And two days before that Metropolitan police commander Christine Jones said republican placards seen in the vicinity of the royal wedding would be removed under the Public Order Act (POA):
Asked by journalist Martha Kearney whether police would use the POA to confiscate “down with the royal family” placards, Jones replied “There are 364 other days of the year when people can come to London and demonstrate and frankly it’s not appropriate on the day of the royal wedding for people to come to London with that intent.”
[Update: As Mr K points out in the comments section, more reports of unjustified arrests here and here.]
Topics: Protest speech | 4 Comments »
Media suppressing judge’s name?!
April 28, 2011
An old mate of mine, former Fair Go editor Chris Mitson, wonders why the media aren’t naming the judge who gave Malcolm Chaston bail. After all, Chaston had 71 previous convictions and during his previous stretch in prison, a prison guard had warned of his ambitions to become a serial killer. Police reportedly opposed bail. Chaston went on to murder Vanessa Pickering. Why shouldn’t the media be asking the judge a few questions about why bail was granted, he asks.
There’s nothing to stop the media naming the judge. As far as I can tell, they don’t seem to have done so. I don’t know why not.
The reports do suggest that Chaston had been out of prison for a time before the alleged assault for which he was given bail. The judge is reported as saying: there was nothing in your recent history to suggest you would offend in that way. I’m not sure what this means. Offend in what way? Was the prison officer’s warning put before the judge? But the judge may have been saying, in effect, “he’s been out of jail for a while, and kept his nose clean, apart from this allegation; there’s nothing to justify keeping him locked up pending trial for this assault”.
Judges must grant bail in a case like this (I’m assuming the charge was common assault, with a maximum penalty of one year in jail) unless there’s “just cause for continued detention”. That might be because he’s likely to abscond, or to interfere with evidence or witnesses, or commit further offences. The judge can take into account his history of offending and the seriousness of the charge he’s facing, among other things. I don’t know all the circumstances here. There may be questions to ask about whether the judge exercised the discretion properly, or whether our bail laws strike the right balance. This seems a good case in which to debate those things. The media don’t seem to be doing so.
I wouldn’t recommend approaching the judge directly. He or she will simply refuse to comment. Questions could be put to the Chief District Court Judge, but his response would probably only be a general one. Still, the debate can still take place without them…
Topics: General | 1 Comment »
Book Review: Media Law in New Zealand
April 28, 2011
Media Law in New Zealand
John Burrows and Ursula Cheer
LexisNexis New Zealand, 6ed, 2010
Reading the latest edition of this terrific text, it’s hard not to be struck by the breathtaking rate of change of New Zealand’s media law. The five years since the last edition have seen the Fairfax contempt prosecution and a string of cases involving Vince Siemer testing the boundaries of the law of contempt; the tug of war between High Court judges over cameras in court; the Mafart and Prieur case and the rewriting of the rules on access to court records; the abolition of sedition laws; reform of the Press Council following a roots-and-branch review; new source protection provisions in the Evidence Act and their first outing in the Campbell “medal thieves” case; a plethora of significant Broadcasting Standards Authority decisions (and some on appeal); the anti-satire rules for Parliamentary coverage; the Danish cartoons imbroglio; several important decisions on the vexed question of defamation pleading; the battle between MediaWorks and Sky TV over copyright in rugby clips; and much more besides.
Media Law in New Zealand doesn’t just provide a comprehensive overview of the disparate laws (criminal, tortious, and administrative) that apply to journalists. It also gives sharp analysis of the content of the law. The authors predict that the Lange defamation defence of qualified privilege for political speech is likely to “grow into a full public interest defence”, and they approve of overseas developments protecting neutral reportage. They note the problems with the remedies in the Defamation Act. They suggest journalists’ source protection should be enforced more rigorously. They sensibly recommend that New Zealand dumps its blasphemy laws. Their discussion of the case law on the various suppression laws is particularly helpful, and exposes the worrying lack of clarity in the suppression laws in civil cases.
Of course, recent editions have had to grapple with two seismic changes: the internet and the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act. The internet is increasingly becoming the battlefield for media law developments, and that’s reflected in much of the new material: commentary on ISP liability, online copyright infringement, the courts’ jelly-nailing attempts to control suppressed information once it hits the web, the problem of the status of bloggers when they perform journalist-like functions, and possible liability under censorship laws for visiting websites containing objectionable material.
References to the Bill of Rights are sprinkled throughout the text, but the main discussion is in a short chapter at the end. Alas, this offers limited guidance on the vexed issues surrounding the interface between the right to freedom of expression and the common law, statutory interpretation, and the exercise of discretions, and in particular, the mechanics of the key Bill of Rights provision, s 5, which allows “demonstrably justified” restrictions. But it’s hard to fault the authors too much here. Practitioners and judges are just beginning to come to terms with these issues themselves, and too often they are fudged or overlooked altogether.
It might be said that in this edition, Media Law in New Zealand has something of the feel of a venerable mansion, periodically modernised by the addition of extra rooms and ensuites. It is still a delight to visit and explore. All of the amenities are sound. Much of the architecture is lovely. But some rooms feel slightly musty (I’m not sure that all of the examples of defamation – and even broadcasting – cases reflect the approach the courts and BSA would take today). There’s need for a wing dealing with advertising standards decisions (the “lack of space” excuse trotted out in the last three editions wears a bit thin when each successive edition finds another 200 pages for other developments!). And I hope that later editions will find sufficient material to incorporate the Bill of Rights more closely into the foundations rather than consign it to its own room.
But any criticism feels like blasphemy. This is far and away the best book on New Zealand’s media law, and in fact has been influential in its recognition and development as a branch of law. The nation’s media lawyers, judges, journalists and students owe deep gratitude to the authors (mostly Ursula Cheer this time round) for putting in the long hours to compile this tremendously useful resource.
Topics: General | 1 Comment »
How on earth did Hotchin get name suppression?
April 21, 2011
So this is what I’ve been wondering. Mark Hotchin, in 2003 a high flying businessman, director of New Zealand’s biggest private finance company, gets duped in a ponzi scam. He loses more than $200,000 of his own money.
At the time, and since, there were thousands of investors who might have been interested in this insight into Hotchin’s business acumen.
Why did the court give him name suppression?
He was a possible witness in the case against the fraudsters. A victim. He applied for name suppression, which the court has power to grant to victims. His affidavit makes several points:
Hanover requires the public’s confidence over the nature and quality of investments…
Reputation is central to the efficient and ongoing operation of [Hotchin’s long-established business] relationships upon which Hanover’s business rests.
Publicity would lead to “concern over the investment strategies adopted within the Hanover organisation because of the loss of credibility and damage to my reputation”
Investors and third parties with whom Hanover and its entities deal could well come to the conclusion that if one of the directors of Hanover was making inappropriate investment decisions personally then he could well be doing the same for the group.
You think?
So anyway, these are the arguments for suppression.
Hotchin and Hannover’s then chief executive Kerry Finnigan were given interim name suppression before the trial by a justice of the peace. I haven’t seen that decision, if indeed there was a written one. But it was only supposed to last until a District Court judge looked at it before trial. It seems that a judge ordered that it be carried over during the trial. Hotchin, in the end, wasn’t required to give evidence at trial, though he did provide depositions evidence. At the end of the trial, the question arose as to whether the Hotching and Finnigan suppressions should be made permanent. (A number of victims were in the same boat. Some of the witnesses were given final suppression orders during the trial. Others were denied permanent suppression.)
The issue came before Judge Weir. The “press” (perhaps the Rotorua Daily Post, which was covering the trial) apparently sent in a letter opposing the continued suppression. That letter may have been written at very short notice, because going by the judge’s description, it was startlingly inept. It advanced only two arguments: one, that some other witnesses didn’t get name suppression, and two, that there were no compelling reasons to give Hotchin suppression. You might think that the wider public interest in the soundness of these businessmen’s judgment might have been worth a mention, but from the judge’s account, that argument wasn’t made.
The Serious Fraud Office didn’t oppose the suppression. (The prosecution is in a bit of a bind here. Their business is to prosecute the bad guys and protect the public. Hotchin and Finnigan were the victims here. The SFO also really needs the cooperation of victims as witnesses. It would be mean of them to stab those very people in the back by opposing their suppression application. On the other hand, they are there to represent the public interest…)
The judge brushed aside these arguments. The cases were to be decided individually, on their merits, he said. The reasons for suppression concerned their reputation in the community, the likely personal and financial consequences of disclosure, the likely effect on employees and affected organisations, and the significance of victims’ rights to privacy and dignity.
He added:
There is a failure to identify any person or past person who would specifically benefit by publication of the details of the case.
He did factor in the open justice principle. He didn’t (surprise, surprise) mention the right to “seek, receive and impart information and ideas of any kind” in the Bill of Rights Act.
Judge Weir granted permanent suppression under section 138 of the Criminal Justice Act. I’m not sure that really applies to Hotchin: it only covers “witnesses” and he didn’t give evidence at the trial. But section 140 gives power to suppress the names of anyone “connected with the proceedings”, so that probably covers Hotchin.
Was the decision correct? Here, we have to resist the extreme temptation to be wise in hindsight. There was no suggestion of Hanover’s collapse back then. Had this been reported, it’s not clear what impact it would have had on Hanover, or on the behaviour of investors. The media didn’t seem to be busting their guts to argue the case, so I have to wonder how significant they thought the story was, and how much play it would have been given. Hotchin could have been expected to deploy sophisticated PR. It’s possible he could have lost his job, as he deposes, but it’s not clear that would have made any difference to Hanover’s fate. Publishing his name may not have averted the train wreck that was Hanover Finance.
Still and all. I like to think I would have said this decision was wrong had I come across it in 2005. As the judge said, compelling reasons are required to depart from the open justice principle. The Court of Appeal held in the Victim X case that this applies to the names of victims too. (That was the case where Sir Ron Trotter’s son was an intended kidnapping victim). Judge Weir distinguished that case by saying that the victim’s circumstances had changed since he’d been granted a suppression order originally: he was now to give evidence and his wife’s position had improved in some unexplained way.
That’s not very convincing. In this case the judge wasn’t called on to vary an existing suppression order. It had expired. The question wasn’t: “has anything changed?” It was: “are there compelling reasons to depart from the usual principle of open justice?”. It was also: “would this exercise of my power to suppress the media’s speech be demonstrably justifiable?” He didn’t ask those questions. And he didn’t grapple with the most powerful public interest reasons in favour of releasing the name. That’s partly because those arguments don’t seem to have been made. But the judge should have factored them in anyway. They should have been obvious… from the affidavit of Mark Hotchin himself, which was surely on the file, though the judge didn’t mention it.
Investors and third parties with whom Hanover and its entities deal could well come to the conclusion that if one of the directors of Hanover was making inappropriate investment decisions personally then he could well be doing the same for the group.
The media couldn’t have put it better themselves.
Topics: Name suppression | 48 Comments »
You win some, you lose some
April 21, 2011
TVNZ has won its High Court appeal over the Broadcasting Standards Authority’s decision to find that a scene in Hung breached the good taste and decency standard. TV3 lost its appeal over the BSA’s breach finding in relation to Home & Away. Analysis soon.
Topics: General | No Comments »
PLEASE RETURN SOONEST
April 20, 2011
RNZ is reporting that John Key used an Air Force helicopter to attend social events. It says John Key can’t respond because he’s overseas.
If only someone could create a magical device that would allow us to talk across long distances…
Topics: General | 50 Comments »
Pagani sides with the wowsers
April 20, 2011
John Pagani reckons the BSA got it right about Aramoana, and I got it wrong. He thinks it was a “balanced call”, made by the experts we’ve appointed to administer standards that, after all, include good taste and decency and children’s interests. For him, I’m a “Bill of Rights fundamentalist” who treats this as an “entirely legal question” and insists that free speech must trump sensible policing of social norms on early evening television. He helpfully points out that the right to freedom of expression is subject to reasonable limitations such as can be demonstrably justified in a free and democratic society, suggesting he doesn’t read my blog much, since I bang on about that all the time.
Right. The battle is joined. Let me now explain, as condescendingly as I can, why he’s wrong. (Though I don’t really think he’s a wowser).
I’ll start by granting that he makes some fair points. The BSA are appointed for their expertise on matters of broadcasting standards. They should be given room to do that without the law nitpicking at their performance all the time. The Bill of Rights doesn’t overrule the standards. They have to give some meaning to “good taste and decency” and “children’s interests”. For what it’s worth, I agree that those limitations on broadcasters’ speech, are in general, reasonable.
But none of that makes any difference. Pagani talks as if the BSA is not subject to administrative law. They are. Let me put part of my argument in purely administrative law terms, without any mention of the Bill of Rights. Here it is: the majority manage to uphold a complaint against a TV programme, saying they’re looking at context, and setting out the contextual factors they have considered: but they completely overlook the most glaring and telling contextual factors that count in TVNZ’s favour. Here are the factors they considered relevant:
— the programme was unclassified (ie not G or PG or AO)
— it contained two warnings
— it had an adult target audience
That’s it. They also note that the programme “revisited a significant historical event”.
And here’s what they missed out from their list of contextual factors:
— the word was not used in a sexual or abusive way
— the word was recalled as part of a dialogue about what actually happened in an extremely emotional moment
— it was among the last words spoken by David Gray
— the word was spoken as part of a thoughtful recollection by a police officer who had shot Gray, and who was clearly diffident about using it
— there was nothing at all gratuious about the use of the word
Those are plainly – even by the BSA’s own repeated affirmations of the importance of context – relevant considerations. TVNZ had put them before the BSA. Pagani would not usually excuse a public body for failing to take into account manifestly relevant considerations. Those considerations tell strongly against their conclusion.
But perhaps I’m being unfair. Perhaps it is supposed to be obvious that the majority took these factors into account. They are referred to earlier in the decision when the parties’ arguments are recounted, and later, when the Chair issues his dissent. It defies belief that they weren’t aware of them. So perhaps they decided they didn’t need to list those points in the place where they always – always – set out the list of factors relevant to context. Still, that’s very bad administrative practice, and denies us the opportunity to understand how they would have grappled with those considerations. Because… try adding those factors I’ve listed to the three they listed – all of which tell against an uphold here – and then try to marshall a sensible-sounding conclusion that “even so, there’s a breach”.
I’d also argue that this decision is inconsistent with other BSA decisions listed in my first post, as well as a vast range of others that insist on the central importance of whether the use is gratuitous. It also draws on research in a questionable way (I think there’s a difference between surveys about the word “fuck” and the connotations they are likely to provoke, and the way the word “fucking” was used here.)
And that’s without the Bill of Rights. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten it. In essence, what this requires of decision-makers is a due sense of proportion when restricting protected rights. That’s the heart of it. In fact, the judges often summarise it as “proportionality”. I think the BSA has, to borrow from Tipping J, used a sledgehammer to crack a nut. What proportionality requires is a balancing of two things: how important the particular speech is, and how important the particular restriction is. Here’s Tipping J again:
The more value to society the information imparted or the type of expression in question may possess, the heavier will be the task of showing that the limitation is reasonable and justified.
In the UK, it is now established that this is, indeed, a question of law. That is, it’s something the BSA is capable of getting wrong, and if they do, the courts have power to fix it. (For all that, I suspect that judges will be likely to pay some respect to the assessments of expert decision-makers like the BSA, particularly where they spell out a sensible weighing process).
And once again, I’m happy to say that this balance is still generally best left to the BSA. They’re the experts at weighing the interests involved. They have even taken some steps recently toward actually following this weighing process in their decisions, instead of just assuring us in a piece of boilerplate at the end that their decisions are Bill of Rights compliant.
My point: the balance in this case is a no-brainer. Almost all the factors tell against punishing this speech. The majority of the BSA recognise that that the speech is “high value”. It’s a serious documentary about an important historical event. So what’s the harm to some equally important social interest on the other side of the equation? Harm that’s damaging enough to society to warrant penalising the important speech? Well, actually, as I noted, the BSA never assesses the psychological evidence about what harm fleeting non-abusive swearing might do. (None). To be fair, TVNZ didn’t put it before them.
Instead, they looked at how popular the words were, and decided they were unpopular to many – perhaps most – viewers, based on their very general surveys. Okay, so it’s a bit mischievous of me to say they treated this like a popularity contest. They were plugging into some sensible research they’d conducted to get a bead on the social norms they’re required to enforce. (In fact, they plopped this part of their reasoning under the “Children’s interests” banner, which seems weird. How does the fact that a proportion of adults think the language is inappropriate prove that it’s harmful to children?). But there is a point here. When speech is contributing to an important public conversation, thoughtful judges and academics around the world say that we should be very slow to penalise it on the grounds of its offensiveness. Leeway has to be allowed for the way people choose to speak. That surely goes double for a programming exploring the events on the day of one of New Zealand’s biggest criminal tragedies.
So: on one side of the balance – high value speech. On the other – two brief uses of a fairly common swear-word which harms children and society by….? How? They don’t say, except some bromide about children being vulnerable and adults expecting cleaner language at that hour. Now, that might normally be enough. But because this is high-value speech, they need a more compelling justification. That’s the missing step in their reasoning. I think it’s a legal error. And I think if they’d asked themselves the right question, they couldn’t have reached the decision they did. It’s just not … proportionate.
The BSA majority’s best argument, I think, is that requiring the broadcasters to bleep the word or broadcast later wouldn’t much hamper its speech. I guess the thinking is that even if it’s high-value speech, the value isn’t diminished much by this particular change. The restriction is minimal.
Like I say, that comes closest to working for me. But it still doesn’t get there. For one thing, these words are significant in context. For another, there’s no evidence that children are harmed by exposure to them in this way. For another, the decision surely means the F-word can never be used in early evening TV, no matter what the context. For another, it seems to require broadcasters of serious current affairs programmes to wield the censorial scalpal even to language that’s central to the events they’re focusing on.
I doubt I’ve convinced John Pagani. But I hope TVNZ can convince a court in their appeal.
Topics: Broadcasting Standards Authority, NZ Bill of Rights Act | No Comments »
Oh, and one other thing about the BSA’s dumb Aramoana decision
April 20, 2011
It was based on a really dumb complaint. Here’s the BSA’s summary of the complainant’s original grounds:
… the policeman’s “obscene language” breached standards relating to good taste and decency, law and order, responsible programming and children’s interests. The complainant considered that it gave “a negative impression of New Zealand policing” and that “it signals that criminals should naturally abuse, taunt and swear at police because police are expected by TV to talk just like the cons. [The complainant] was of the view that the broadcaster may have “coached” the interviewee into thinking that he had used these words.
The complainant has only just managed to raise the issue that the majority of the BSA eventually upheld, and the thrust of his complaint is spectacularly dopey.
This isn’t the first time that the BSA (and to give them credit, the broadcasters) have had to rescue the droplet of viable complaint from the complainant’s tsunami of dross, and it is probably sensible that our system works hard to accommodate complainants who aren’t familiar with the precise requirements of the braodcasting standards. But still, this off-target ramble might have been a clue to the BSA that these views are not widely shared…
Topics: Broadcasting Standards Authority | No Comments »
For fuck’s sake
April 19, 2011
I’ve read hundreds of Broadcasting Standards Authority decisions in my time. The vast bulk of them, I agree with. Most of the rest, I figure it’s a line call. Then there are the shockers.
This is one. The BSA has found that a story on the TVNZ current affairs show Sunday about the Aramoana massacre in 1990 has breached standards concerning children’s interests and taste and decency.
Is that because it might be disturbing for children watching at 7:30pm to hear about a gunman who senselessly mowed down a bunch of people, including children? No. That might have made some sense, but that’s not what the complainant complained about or what the BSA found.
It was because a policeman being interviewed – not just any policeman, but the one who shot David Gray – twice used the word “fucking” when describing the events.
Well, he shouldn’t be talking about sex at 7:30pm, you say? But he wasn’t talking about sex.
Well, he shouldn’t be using an abusive word at 7:30, right? But he wasn’t using it in an abusive fashion.
Well, that language isn’t appropriate to describe a police stand-off. But he wasn’t using it to describe what happened. He was quoting what he Gray said to each other.
Well, TVNZ should at least give a warning. But they did. They gave two.
Here’s the excerpt:
I yelled out to him… I never told anybody this and I don’t know if it should be recorded for history or not, but I said to him: “You’re fucking good with women and kids, come out here and have a go at us.
He later quoted Gray as saying
Kill me, fucking kill me.
The majority of the BSA got a lot of things right. They said that context is all-important. They noted that this was high-value speech. They recognised that warnings had been given. They admitted that this programme was not likely to appeal to children. They acknowledged that the Bill of Rights was in play.
But they felt that it was, after all, broadcast at 7:30pm. Children may be watching, and their innocence and vulnerability needs to be protected from inappropriate language. People don’t expect that word to be broadcast then. BSA surveys suggest that more than 70% of us don’t approve of “fuck” in an interview or drama. Besides, the story could be told just as easily if the word was bleeped out.
I think the BSA did not think hard enough about the context here. Or about the need, when they’re evaluating a serious and significant current affairs programme, to come up with a better justification than normal for penalising swear words.
This was not by any stretch of the imagination a gratuitous use of the F-word. It is difficult to imagine a usage better justified by the context. It showed the intensity of the feelings involved. It smacked of their desperation, their urgency. It offered a window onto their mindset. It was part of the reality of the scene. It was not used in a sexual or abusive way. It was fleeting. In their discussion of context, the majority didn’t mention any of these things.
I also think that while the BSA recognise that this is significant speech, they don’t follow through with the implications of that. It means they need a proportionately more compelling justification before penalising it. It also means that they might have to look a bit harder at the actual harms involved. In fact “there is no psychological evidence of harm from fleeting expletives”. The evidence suggests that most kids have already been exposed to these words. It’s ridiculous to suggest that by bleeping them out in some early evening programming, children’s moral innocence will be preserved, even if it were actually under threat from exposure to a little non-abusive swearing.
In addition, a closer look at the BSA’s general research on the word “fuck” shows that it has become increasingly acceptable. Between 1999 and 2009, the proportion of people who find the word fairly or totally unacceptable has fallen from 70% to 51%. But the BSA didn’t cite this bit of the research. It focused on the research about specific scenarios, such as a television drama, which wasn’t really comparable. More comparable were the stats about its use in interviews, but I have a hunch that when 71% of people said they thought the word “fuck” was unacceptable in an interview, whenever broadcast, this was not the sort of interview or the sort of use of the word “fuck” they had in mind. I doubt, for instance, that many New Zealanders disapproved of Bono’s Golden Globe award acceptance speech, when he said “This is really, really fucking brilliant”.
In any event, the BSA has in the past accepted the use of the word “fuck” in other current affairs contexts that seem much less significant (see my post on another unjustified BSA decision here).
The BSA’s chair Peter Radich made most of these points in a compelling dissent:
In my opinion, this was good quality television recording part of our social history, which, with its warnings, was able to be broadcast at the time that it was and which was within the bounds of freedom of expression.
Too right.
Topics: Broadcasting Standards Authority | No Comments »
Memo to Greg O’Connor
April 18, 2011
It’s a bit of a worry when even the police don’t understand the rules of contempt of court.
Police Association President Greg O’Connor scores an F on his understanding of the sub judice rule, as evidenced by his appearance on Close Up to defend the police’s handling of the Tiki Taane arrest.
The sub judice rule says that when a case is before the courts, no-one is permitted to comment on it in a way that may prejudice the outcome.
O’Connor apparently decided that if Tiki Taane was going to flout the sub judice rules by making public statements, it was fair game for the police too. Let’s just hope he doesn’t apply that same reasoning to, say, burglary. The thing about the police is, they’re supposed to obey the law, even when others don’t.
O’Connor also seems to think that the sub judice rule is only there to protect defendants. Wrong. As our current Chief Justice made clear in a recent contempt case, comment that prejudices the prosecution can also be a contempt.
But I suspect that neither side has actually committed a contempt. If this matter goes to trial, it’s likely to be more than 6-8 months away – the time the Court of Appeal says it usually takes jurors to forget news stories. And the failed Fairfax contempt case (in which much more inflammatory material was published) rather suggests that the sub judice is something of a dead letter these days – unless the publication occurs very close to the trial. [Update: Tony Smith has just pointed out to me that since the offence is only punishable by 3 months in prison, there won’t be a jury, another reason to suggest that there has been no contempt here.]
[I suppose I should also note that O’Connor insisted that the arrest had nothing to do with Tiki Taane singing “Fuck the police”. But his account on Close Up of what the case was about was so incoherent that it’s hard to know what to think. He did suggest that Taane rarked up the crowd, and he was leading a chant of “Fuck the police” after a fight broke out on the dancefloor. The bouncer handled the fight, and the police withdrew, said O’Connor, as the mood turned ugly. They returned later for a quiet chat with Taane, he said. At this point, they had no intention to arrest him. Apparently then, whatever role the chanting had, it doesn’t seem to have been grounds for arrest and prosecution.
O’Connor then says Taane was uncooperative, refusing to give his address. (Taane’s account is here). In fact, Taane wasn’t obliged to give his address. And it’s difficult at this stage to see what he might have done that was disorderly, or likely to cause violence. O’Connor seems to realise this and says “there were still people around”. But again, it’s difficult to see where the incitement was at this point. On O’Connor’s account, it seems the police can only have formed an intention to arrest him because of his response to their questioning. If that’s so, he’s right that the arrest had nothing to do with the song. But it also seems to have had nothing to do with disorderly behaviour likely to cause violence to start or continue…
Topics: Contempt of Court | 216 Comments »
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