Isaac Farnbank is Chairman of the London Universities Conservatives and President of King’s College Conservative Association.
Upon creating the Metropolitan Police, Sir Robert Peel declared ‘the police are the public and the public are the police’. British policing is policing by consent.
Central to policing by consent is public confidence in their impartiality, accountability and judgement. These principles are still claimed by the Police Federation as the foundation of policing.
Since Peel’s declaration in the 1820’s, the police have undergone significant change and experienced fluctuations in public trust and confidence. Notable scandals – including the Stephen Lawerence case and the Rotherham Child Exploitation failures – have shaken already respect for their authority.
But there is a quieter police scandal that, though less dramatic, eye-catching and momentous than those high-profile examples, should concern anybody with an interest in the upholding of the rule of law and effective, consensual policing.
I refer to the creeping rise of inappropriately-issued ‘Community Resolution Orders’ (CRO). Between June 2022 and June 2023, 139,000 CROs were issued, an increase of six per cent on the previous year, representing 71 per cent of all Out of Court Disposals (OOCDs).
CROs are intended as an ‘alternative way of dealing with less serious crime’. The person to whom they are offered is required to accept responsibility for a given offence, and typically involve some means of reparation, which can include, for example, apologising or undertaking a Victim Awareness Course.
CROs do not constitute a formal criminal, record but can have serious employability consequences, since they are declared under any Enhanced Disclosure Barring Service (DBS) check, effectively blocking employment in the Armed and Intelligence Forces, and several other government agencies.
I was recently made aware of a case that is simultaneously ridiculous to the point of being sublimely comic, and seriously worrying for the state of our policing. Whilst it would be inappropriate for me to outline the case here in anything other than the broadest terms, the following true events (with names changed) suggests and highlights serious issues with the use of CROs.
Matthew and Alice meet at a social event and subsequently share a few dates together. After a relatively insignificant disagreement months later, some robust messages are exchanged between the two. It concludes with Alice asking Matthew not to contact her. There was no suggestion whatsoever of any upset or distress having been caused at this stage. After reflecting on the situation over the ensuing week or so and in a magnanimous act of goodwill, Matthew decides to send an innocuous bunch of flowers to Alice, which she duly receives.
The following day, Matthew receives a visit from a police constable and is informed that Alice contacted the police that morning. He is told that he is accused of harassment, on the basis that a singular act constitutes this offence. Matthew has no previous experience of being a subject of police attention and is shocked at police involvement in such an innocent and isolated gesture. A CRO is offered to him, and some of the implications rather vaguely explained to him. Presented with a choice of signing the CRO now or being required to attend a voluntary interview and being liable for arrest, Matthew signs the CRO.
Matthew thus had a career-limiting yoke around his neck that was no true reflection of his character or his intentions in sending the flowers, on the basis of an ill-advised complaint, factually erroneous information and breaches of procedure – all for solely sending flowers. Meanwhile, there is a widespread perception that a thuggish rule of the mob is permitted to grip the capital every protest, allegedly in support of Palestine – aided and abetted by the Metropolitan Police.
For many in Matthew’s shoes, that could be the end of the road – an inappropriately issued order nevertheless impinging career possibilities and inflicting wider personal and reputational damage for at least a number of years. Fortunately, this specific episode has a somewhat more sensible ending – unlike potentially hundreds of other CRO incidences.
After overcoming the initial shock of the situation, Matthew reflected further and decided that he would not tolerate what appeared to be an extraordinary case of over-zealous policing, especially after identifying several inaccuracies and procedural breaches on the part of the police. He engaged legal advice that confirmed suspicions of a range of errors, including inaccurate definitions of the charge and a lack of robust understanding of the relevant statute, the Protection from Harassment Act 1997. In this particular case, no crime had occurred nor had Matthew accepted responsibility for a criminal act. After a while, the constabulary involved agreed to rescind the order, agreeing that it was inappropriately issued.
There are many unknowns in this sphere. How widespread is the inappropriate issue of CROs? How many people, perhaps without the same time, means and gumption than Matthew, would challenge the CRO? To what extent is it acceptable there is no formal or public mechanism for challenging CROs?
Yet even a hundred inappropriately issued CROs demands action. For the sake of already weak trust in the police, and for the future effectiveness of consensual policing, it is surely high time for a systemic review into the use of CROs by the police – before confidence collapses entirely.
Isaac Farnbank is Chairman of the London Universities Conservatives and President of King’s College Conservative Association.
Upon creating the Metropolitan Police, Sir Robert Peel declared ‘the police are the public and the public are the police’. British policing is policing by consent.
Central to policing by consent is public confidence in their impartiality, accountability and judgement. These principles are still claimed by the Police Federation as the foundation of policing.
Since Peel’s declaration in the 1820’s, the police have undergone significant change and experienced fluctuations in public trust and confidence. Notable scandals – including the Stephen Lawerence case and the Rotherham Child Exploitation failures – have shaken already respect for their authority.
But there is a quieter police scandal that, though less dramatic, eye-catching and momentous than those high-profile examples, should concern anybody with an interest in the upholding of the rule of law and effective, consensual policing.
I refer to the creeping rise of inappropriately-issued ‘Community Resolution Orders’ (CRO). Between June 2022 and June 2023, 139,000 CROs were issued, an increase of six per cent on the previous year, representing 71 per cent of all Out of Court Disposals (OOCDs).
CROs are intended as an ‘alternative way of dealing with less serious crime’. The person to whom they are offered is required to accept responsibility for a given offence, and typically involve some means of reparation, which can include, for example, apologising or undertaking a Victim Awareness Course.
CROs do not constitute a formal criminal, record but can have serious employability consequences, since they are declared under any Enhanced Disclosure Barring Service (DBS) check, effectively blocking employment in the Armed and Intelligence Forces, and several other government agencies.
I was recently made aware of a case that is simultaneously ridiculous to the point of being sublimely comic, and seriously worrying for the state of our policing. Whilst it would be inappropriate for me to outline the case here in anything other than the broadest terms, the following true events (with names changed) suggests and highlights serious issues with the use of CROs.
Matthew and Alice meet at a social event and subsequently share a few dates together. After a relatively insignificant disagreement months later, some robust messages are exchanged between the two. It concludes with Alice asking Matthew not to contact her. There was no suggestion whatsoever of any upset or distress having been caused at this stage. After reflecting on the situation over the ensuing week or so and in a magnanimous act of goodwill, Matthew decides to send an innocuous bunch of flowers to Alice, which she duly receives.
The following day, Matthew receives a visit from a police constable and is informed that Alice contacted the police that morning. He is told that he is accused of harassment, on the basis that a singular act constitutes this offence. Matthew has no previous experience of being a subject of police attention and is shocked at police involvement in such an innocent and isolated gesture. A CRO is offered to him, and some of the implications rather vaguely explained to him. Presented with a choice of signing the CRO now or being required to attend a voluntary interview and being liable for arrest, Matthew signs the CRO.
Matthew thus had a career-limiting yoke around his neck that was no true reflection of his character or his intentions in sending the flowers, on the basis of an ill-advised complaint, factually erroneous information and breaches of procedure – all for solely sending flowers. Meanwhile, there is a widespread perception that a thuggish rule of the mob is permitted to grip the capital every protest, allegedly in support of Palestine – aided and abetted by the Metropolitan Police.
For many in Matthew’s shoes, that could be the end of the road – an inappropriately issued order nevertheless impinging career possibilities and inflicting wider personal and reputational damage for at least a number of years. Fortunately, this specific episode has a somewhat more sensible ending – unlike potentially hundreds of other CRO incidences.
After overcoming the initial shock of the situation, Matthew reflected further and decided that he would not tolerate what appeared to be an extraordinary case of over-zealous policing, especially after identifying several inaccuracies and procedural breaches on the part of the police. He engaged legal advice that confirmed suspicions of a range of errors, including inaccurate definitions of the charge and a lack of robust understanding of the relevant statute, the Protection from Harassment Act 1997. In this particular case, no crime had occurred nor had Matthew accepted responsibility for a criminal act. After a while, the constabulary involved agreed to rescind the order, agreeing that it was inappropriately issued.
There are many unknowns in this sphere. How widespread is the inappropriate issue of CROs? How many people, perhaps without the same time, means and gumption than Matthew, would challenge the CRO? To what extent is it acceptable there is no formal or public mechanism for challenging CROs?
Yet even a hundred inappropriately issued CROs demands action. For the sake of already weak trust in the police, and for the future effectiveness of consensual policing, it is surely high time for a systemic review into the use of CROs by the police – before confidence collapses entirely.