Provocation and law

For an interesting authoritative – subject to statutory variation - survey of the law of provocation, see Daniel v The State (Trinidad and Tobago) [2014] UKPC 3 (13 February 2014).

The partial defence of provocation has been repealed in some jurisdictions, including mine, making it difficult for me to get up enthusiasm for a detailed discussion. This mental sluggishness might also be found in students who no longer encounter what was an intellectually stimulating part of the criminal law course. Still, law wasn’t invented to amuse lawyers, was it?

What would be interesting to discover, in places where there is no longer a partial defence of provocation, is whether juries are nevertheless instinctively applying something similar – perhaps a commonsense feeling for justice? – and returning verdicts of guilty of manslaughter instead of murder in cases where the result would have been the same if the law of provocation had applied.

There is, in Daniel, the generally important point that [13], [56] the judge must leave defences to the jury if they are available on the evidence, even if the defendant has not relied on them. See also Holt, discussed here on 21 February 2014.

Harmony was found [33] with the Supreme Court of Canada’s conclusion on self-induced provocation in Cairney v The Queen [2013] SCC 55, mentioned briefly here on 1 November 2013.

Is a partial defence of provocation inconsistent with the so-called felony murder rule whereby a killing in the course of the commission of certain offences is automatically murder regardless of the defendant’s intention? The answer [46] is yes, the felony murder rule (again, in jurisdictions where it or its equivalent applies) makes the defendant’s state of mind irrelevant and there is no room for the defendant to say he acted under provocation.

The Board in Daniel swept away [57] the Camplin rule which had required provocation to be left to a jury if there was evidence of loss of self-control regardless of whether any reasonable jury could possibly find that a reasonable person with the defendant’s characteristics would have responded as the defendant did. In enacting the legislation under which Camplin was decided, “it was not the intention of Parliament to legitimise a perverse verdict.”

This sort of perversity – acquitting where there is insufficient evidence to support a defence – is different from the sort of perversity where the jury recognises a defence which the law has purported to remove. In the latter, the jury is applying social norms that it considers to be morally right. These norms it regards as morally binding and therefore justly applied, although one may doubt whether that is an application of law (see generally, John Gardner, Law as a Leap of Faith, 2012 OUP, reviewed here on 6 July 2013). Arguably it is, because it is permitted by the law; through the concept of reasonableness natural laws are incorporated into positive law.

And what are our fees from crime?

What does a judge need to consider at trial if a defendant’s evidence is not accepted?

“The case in which a defendant advances a defence which may well be disbelieved imposes a particularly acute duty on the trial judge. It is essential that he consider carefully what the position will be if the defendant's account is indeed rejected. Sometimes the result will be that the only proper verdict will be guilty, and indeed sometimes this may be expressly conceded on the defendant's behalf. But very often it will be necessary for the jury to be required to apply its mind to the remaining steps to conviction, and it is especially important that it be reminded that it must do so because defence counsel will normally not have addressed other possible obstacles to conviction which are inconsistent with the case being advanced by the defendant in evidence. A simple instance is the defendant accused of murder who advances an alibi which is seriously damaged in cross examination of the several witnesses, but whose actions, assuming that he was indeed the culprit, may not amount to murder, for example because there is a genuine decision to be made about intent. There are many other examples.”

Holt v Her Majesty’s Attorney General on behalf of the Queen (Isle of Man) [2014] UKPC 4 (19 February 2014) at [24]. Compare Huynh v The Queen [2013] HCA 6 discussed here on 15 March 2013 for situations where getting to the real issues in a complex case is appropriate. And on considering defences not expressly relied on, see R v Pickton 2010 SCC 32, discussed here on 6 August 2010.

Holt will be of interest to all lawyers who receive funds or property from clients. A cynic might say that the creation of money laundering and proceeds of crime offences gives the Crown an unfair advantage in the scramble for revenue. But we who take a more balanced view would agree that it would not be possible to prevent offenders from benefiting from their offences if lawyers were exempt from proceeds of crime laws.

In Holt the key issue was whether the defendant, a lawyer, had known or suspected that funds were the proceeds of crime. This requirement of knowing or suspecting is commonly found in proceeds of crime legislation.

“[25] ... It would not be necessary for the appellant to know that the law labelled what occurred a crime, still less which crime, if she knew or suspected facts which amounted to a crime of some kind. But it was necessary for the prosecution to prove that she had applied her mind to the circumstances in which the money had been produced. Actual knowledge or suspicion that there was criminal conduct of some kind involved is an essential element of the offence. It was not enough to show that she ought to have realised that some crime, such as theft or obtaining by deception, might well have been involved. Knowledge or suspicion that to receive the money ... would be irregular, in the sense of a breach of trust, is not automatically the same as knowledge or suspicion that a crime is involved.”

And in the circumstances here, even agreeing in cross-examination that she knew the money couldn’t have “honestly” been obtained by the client, did not necessarily amount to admitting knowledge of more than an irregularity that was less than a crime. The issue of knowledge or suspicion that the money was proceeds of crime had not been left to the jury in this trial, the defence having been absence of knowledge of the source of the money rather than its quality as proceeds of crime.

“[26] It is no answer to this defect [omission of a direction on the need to prove knowledge or suspicion that the money was proceeds of crime] that the appellant was not advancing this defence, either in her evidence or in counsel's speech on her behalf. It is precisely because she was advancing a different, and as the jury found untruthful, version of events, that neither she nor counsel did so. It is precisely in these circumstances that the duty falls upon the judge to address the elements of the offence if, as can be seen to be at least possible, the jury rejects her evidence.”

In the circumstances it was not inevitable that the jury would have found the defendant guilty if it had been properly directed, and an acquittal on the main charge could have led to acquittals on other charges. There had also been some unfortunate remarks from the judge (who on the Isle of Man is called the Deemster) which could have given the jury the impression that the judge thought the defendant was guilty. All convictions were quashed, and the question of retrial ([32] “the public interest is most unlikely to call for a re-trial”) reserved for submissions to be made to the Board.

The view from above

Just as cirrocumulus stratiformis clouds are broadly similar to cirrus spissatus undulatus clouds, and most of us don’t really pay much heed to the difference between them, so too is Milne v The Queen [2014] HCA 4 (14 February 2014) broadly similar to Richardson v DPP [2014] UKSC 8, discussed here on 7 February 2014.

Both cases take a purposive interpretation of specific legislation. In Milne an exchange of property with intent to conceal the profit to avoid paying tax did not make the property an “instrument of crime” for the purposes of s 400.3(1) of the Criminal Code (Cth). The property disposed of was not thereafter “used” in the commission of a relevant offence.

Not too far removed from a hypothetical considered in Richardson: the shop’s lawful activity of selling soap would not have been made unlawful if a sales assistant were being paid below the minimum wage.

But we lawyers, whose heads are definitely not in the cirrus, can see the difference as well as the similarity.

One angry juror

The integrity of the trial process was called into question in Smith v Western Australia [2014] HCA 3 (12 February 2014). After a jury had returned guilty verdicts and had been discharged, a note was found in the jury room. It was addressed to the judge and said:

“I have been physically coerced by a fellow juror to change my plea to be aligned with the majority vote. This has made my ability to perform my duty as a juror on this panel [sic].”

The Court qualified the rule that a jury’s deliberations are private and evidence of them will not be received:

“[45]  If public confidence in the system of criminal justice is to be deserved, criminal misconduct calculated to prevent free and frank deliberation by a jury must not be kept secret lest it become endemic. In such cases, the application by the courts of the exclusionary rule to preserve finality would be contrary to the first duty of the courts to preserve the integrity of the system of criminal justice which they administer.”

There is a threshold to be crossed before the issue is opened:

“[50] A court should be careful not to jump to the conclusion that the line has been crossed between robust debate and unlawful coercion; but where there is an allegation by a juror capable of belief that an incident has occurred which could be regarded as unlawful intimidation, a court of appeal is warranted in entertaining that allegation as part of its consideration of whether a miscarriage of justice has occurred.”

Here there was no challenge to the correctness of the verdicts – in the sense that the appellant accepted that they were reasonably open to the jury on the evidence, but it was argued – and accepted by the Court – that this case involved evidence, that was capable of belief, that raised reasonable ground for suspicion that one juror had exercised unlawful intimidation over another, and “on the face of things, there has been a serious breach of the presuppositions of the trial” [54].

For those of us who have to understand the workings of s 232 of the Criminal Procedure Act 2011 [NZ] it is useful to see how it would fit to these circumstances. Section 232(4) includes in the definition of a miscarriage of justice an “irregularity, or occurrence in or in relation to or affecting the trial” that has a specified consequence. The note in Smith is evidence of such an event. It is not contended that the outcome of the trial was affected - one of the ways in which an irregularity can amount to a miscarriage of justice: s 232(4)(a) – so the argument is directed at satisfaction of the alternative consequence of the irregularity: it made the trial unfair: s 232(4)(b). The common law establishes that an unfair trial is one where the law was not properly applied to facts that were determined impartially, and here it is the impartiality of the determination of the facts that is relevant.

Smith illustrates how a verdict may be correct - in the sense that it was open to the jury to convict the defendant - but it may still have been arrived at in a way tainted by impartiality. A biased decision can be correct, but nevertheless be arrived at unfairly.

And here is a tutorial question: if a majority verdict could have been returned in this case, would it matter that the one dissenting juror may have been unlawfully threatened but still had refused to join the majority? And alternatively, if a majority verdict could have been returned, would it matter that the threatened juror had joined in the verdict which ultimately was unanimous?

Stop the tendering for sentence!

Overruling an established sentencing practice, the High Court of Australia held that, at sentencing, the prosecutor should not make submissions on the appropriate range of sentences available to the court: Barbaro v The Queen; Zirilli v The Queen [2014] HCA 2 (12 February 2014).

The majority (French CJ, Hayne, Kiefel and Bell JJ) held that it is wrong in principle for the prosecution to do so. An error in sentencing can be identified without the need to ascertain an appropriate range [27] – [28], and it is not the role of the prosecutor to act as a surrogate judge and offer a dispassionate assessment of such a supposed range [29]. A statement of an appropriate range depends on assumptions which are likely to be unascertainable by the sentencing judge and therefore of little use [37].

Instead, the role of the prosecutor can be discerned from the correct procedure:

“[38] If a sentencing judge is properly informed about the parties' submissions about what facts should be found, the relevant sentencing principles and comparable sentences, the judge will have all the information which is necessary to decide what sentence should be passed without any need for the prosecution to proffer its view about available range ... .”

[39] ... the role and duty of the prosecution remains the duty ... to draw to the attention of the judge what are submitted to be the facts that should be found, the relevant principles that should be applied and what has been done in other (more or less) comparable cases. It is neither the role nor the duty of the prosecution to proffer some statement of the specific result which counsel then appearing for the prosecution (or the Director of Public Prosecutions or the Office of Public Prosecutions) considers should be reached or a statement of the bounds within which that result should fall.”

Consistency in the application of relevant principles is needed, not numerical equivalence with sentences imposed in other cases [40] – [41], citing Hili v The Queen [2010] HCA 45, discussed here on 10 December 2010 (and note the criticism of the approach in R v AM, mentioned in that discussion, a case now available online so there is the link).

The majority reasoning in Barbero includes the proposition that a statement of the appropriate bounds for a sentence is a statement of opinion, not of law; this is not convincing, and it did not persuade Gageler J who agreed in the result of these appeals but dissented in the reasoning. Undoubtedly true, however, is the majority’s assertion that plea negotiations are irrelevant to sentencing: it is for the prosecutor to decide on the charge, for the defendant to decide how to plead, and for the judge to decide on the sentence [46] – [47].

In addition to stopping the rather unpleasant bidding-for-sentence that can occur at sentencing hearings, where the judge will seem to be either favouring the prosecutor or ducking the issue by taking a middle line between the competing offers, this case implicitly raises questions about the appropriateness of guideline judgments.

Using hypotheticals

Even if your own legislature hasn’t replicated s 68 of the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 [UK], an offence of aggravated trespass, it is worth reading the judgment in Richardson v DPP [2014] UKSC 8 (5 February 2014).

That is so because the reasoning illustrates how hypotheticals are used in judicial interpretation of criminal legislation. Correct identification of the focus of the provision [12], reflecting the legislative intent [13], highlights the central concept (here, “activity” and then whether it is “lawful activity”), and its limits are analysed by reference to hypothethicals (here, to exclude incidental or collateral or remote matters).

So, in this particular legislative and factual context, the activity was the selling of soap, and this was a lawful activity for the relevant shop, which would not have been made an unlawful activity if - all these are hypotheticals - an employee had been paid below the minimum wage [12], or if taxes had deliberately not been paid [19], or if the shop had been involved in money laundering in the way suggested by the appellant [18], or even if the selling activity had taken advantage of a war crime committed by another person (taking advantage of a crime is not the same as encouraging or assisting its commission [17]). Wrong labelling of goods sold could make the selling unlawful, but here there was no offence of selling goods wrongly labelled, and anyhow regulations required that there be proof that a purchaser would not have bought the goods if he had known of the error. These are all context-dependent and not general propositions.

Erroneous concessions

It would be manifestly unfair for a defendant to be held to a concession that was made because of a mistake of law: R v Mackle (Northern Ireland) [2014] UKSC 5 (29 January 2014) at [53].

The basis for a concession – is new evidence needed on appeal?

Where a defendant has conceded an element of liability (here that he “benefited” by avoiding a liability to pay duty and VAT on imported goods), but in law that concession was wrongly made (because he was not legally liable to make those payments), there is no need on appeal for evidence that the defendant was wrongly advised if the only evidence relied on by the prosecutor is insufficient to prove the obtaining of that, or any other, benefit [45].

Determining jurisdiction

Where a concession is made it may, in a particular legislative context, nevertheless be for the court to be satisfied that the point is established [51]. A concession about facts can provide evidence on which the court determines that it has jurisdiction to make an order, but a concession about a legal requirement is not determinative of jurisdiction.

The context here is the Proceeds of Crime Act 2002 [UK] (the POCA):

“[50] It is to be remembered that under POCA the court must itself decide whether the convicted person has benefited from his particular criminal conduct. The power to make a confiscation order arises only where the court has made that determination. A defendant's consent cannot confer jurisdiction to make a confiscation order. This is particularly so where the facts on which such a consent is based cannot as a matter of law support the conclusion that the defendant has benefited. On the other hand, if it is clear from the terms on which a defendant consents to a confiscation order, that he has accepted facts which would justify the making of an order, a judge, provided he is satisfied that there has been an unambiguous acceptance of those facts from which the defendant should not be permitted to resile, will be entitled to rely on the consent. This is so not because the defendant has consented to the order. It is because his acceptance of facts itself constitutes evidence on which the judge is entitled to rely. Provided the acceptance of the facts is unequivocal, and particularly where it is given after legal advice which proves to be sound, the judge need not mount a further investigation. It should be emphasised, however, that this is because the judge can in those circumstances himself be satisfied on the evidence that the basis for making a confiscation order has been made out.”

Liability and benefit

In proceedings for the confiscation of the benefits of crime, it must be shown what benefit the defendant obtained, that is, how much he gained from the offending. The requirements for liability are not the same as the requirements for establishing a benefit from criminal activity [66], [68]. Examples are the handling of prohibited goods, or participation in a conspiracy, which do not alone establish that a person has benefited from criminal activity [68].

This case applies R v May [2008] UKHL 28, R v Green [2008] UKHL 30, and Crown Prosecution Service v Jennings [2008] UKHL 29 (all 14 May 2008), discussed here on 16 May 2008.

Concessions and confessions

You could – just for the sake of remaining alert - compare the consequences of a mistake of law resulting in a concession, with the consequences of a mistake of law resulting in a confession, discussed here on 7 December 2013. Whereas the error-induced concession made by each appellant in Mackle was of no legal effect, the error-induced confession in the (currently) suppressed judgment of the NZCA did have evidential effect. The difference reflects the law/fact distinction. Also, there are two types of fairness at play: the fairness of the trial (a first requirement being that the law is accurately applied) and public policy fairness (the balancing of interests carried out in determining admissibility).

And, to be even more alert, you might wonder - following the train of thought in the first sentence of this comment - whether the law/fact distinction is sufficiently robust to allow one to say that it would not be manifestly unfair to hold the defendant to a confession that was only made because of a mistake of law.

Stop the discussion!

The dissent in R v MacDonald, 2014 SCC 3 (17 January 2014) is so cogently reasoned that one wonders why the majority didn’t refer to it or try to rebut it.

Although I call the judgment of Rothstein, Moldaver and Wagner JJ a dissent, it is really a concurrence in the result and a dissent on an important point of law.

This is one of the annoying things that sometimes crop up in multi-judgment cases: they can look half-baked, as if someone said, “Time’s up, stop writing!” before the majority judges had a chance to say why they disagreed with the minority.

I have always thought that R v Mann, 2004 SCC 52, [2004] 3 SCR 59 required reasonable grounds to suspect the existence of facts that made necessary an unwarranted search of a person who had not been arrested. See the heading to my comment on that case on 26 August 2004.

The minority in MacDonald thought that too, as had other Canadian courts in decisions mentioned in their judgment.

Importantly, the minority focus [68]-[69] on the phrase in Mann “...reasonable grounds to believe that his or her safety or that of others is at risk ...” and at [70] conclude:

“The language of Mann thus appears to stack a probability on top of a possibility — a chance upon a chance.  In other words, Mann says a safety search is justified if it is probable that something might happen, not that it is probable that something will happen.  As this Court only recently explained, the former is the language of “reasonable suspicion” (R. v. MacKenzie, 2013 SCC 50 (CanLII), 2013 SCC 50, at para. 74).  The latter is the language of “reasonable and probable grounds”.”

I mentioned MacKenzie here on 3 October 2013.

Further, the facts of MacDonald plainly show that the officer here did entertain a suspicion, not a belief [85], and that this was objectively a reasonable suspicion but it would not have amounted to a reasonable belief [83].

Judicial decisions are not always the best way to develop the law, as the minority note [90]:

“In the end, this case illustrates the danger of leaving police powers to be developed in a piecemeal fashion by the courts.  Today, our colleagues impose a standard requiring that an officer have reasonable grounds to believe an individual is armed and dangerous before a “safety search” is authorized, effectively overturning the search power recognized in Mann and a decade of subsequent jurisprudence in the process.”

When I noted Mann, nearly 10 years ago, our legislation required reasonable grounds to believe in the context of a warrantless search for an offensive weapon, but now this has changed to reasonable grounds to suspect: s 27 Search and Surveillance Act 2012. The Act, although in some respects controversial, is at least rational.

When your thought becomes my experience

Another aspect of B(SC12/2013) v R [2013] NZSC 151 (19 December 2013) is its varieties of judicial interpretation of ss 40(3)(b) and 44 of the Evidence Act 2006. Of interest to us is the extent to which this aspect of the case is authority for anything.

Here the challenged evidence (held to be inadmissible) would have been that the complainant on an earlier occasion had invited a man to her house during the day to deal with a dead mouse, and when he was there she was wearing a nightie and a dressing gown. The man dealt with the mouse and left, but he felt that the complainant had been presenting an opportunity for a sexual encounter although she had done nothing overt in that regard.

What was this evidence intended to prove? If it just proved that the complainant invited people to her house to deal with mice, in this case it was hardly relevant because that was not a fact in issue: it was inadmissible, or at least not a miscarriage of justice for it to have been ruled inadmissible. William Young J favoured this approach to the issue of admissibility.

If the evidence was sought to be adduced to prove that the complainant had engineered a situation to have a sexual encounter with the defendant just like she had before in relation to the proposed witness, it would be evidence of her sexual experience with a person other than the defendant, so its admissibility would be governed by s 44(1) and (3). This was the approach favoured in the joint judgment of McGrath, Glazebrook and Arnold JJ.

William Young J didn't like that interpretation of the evidence or s 44 because the witness would not be testifying to an actual sexual experience, only to his impression of the complainant's motive for his visit. William Young J would not "read up" the word "experience" in s 44(1) to include things that didn't happen. It would have been different if the complainant had overtly suggested sexual activity on that occasion, but merely being dressed in a nightie and dressing gown wasn't enough.

Another interpretation of the evidence is that taken by the Chief Justice: the evidence was that the complainant had a propensity to create opportunities for sexual encounters at her home, which amounted to saying she had a reputation for doing that. This evidence of reputation had to be excluded because of s 44(2). It must be said that this is the least convincing interpretation of the proposed evidence.

At [117] William Young J cogently criticises Elias CJ's approach.

There was some obiter discussion of whether evidence of diary entries describing the complainant's sexual fantasies would be admissible. There was no such evidence in this case. The joint judgment would put this sort of evidence into the category of "experience" within the meaning of that term in s 44(1). William Young J would not, refusing to read up "experience" to include fantasies, and refusing to include, within the expression "with any person other than the defendant", the complainant herself.

When judges disagree over what are merely obiter dicta, what binds lower courts? When a case that directly raises the issue has to be decided, subsequent judicial reflection may favour the approach taken here by William Young J. But in the meantime greater weight should be given to the obiter dicta of the joint judgment here, simply because it is a majority opinion.

So, what is the ratio decidendi of the admissibility aspect of this case? All judges agreed that there was no miscarriage of justice arising from the evidence having been ruled inadmissible. Either it was irrelevant, or it was not of sufficient relevance to overcome the heightened relevance requirement of s 44(3), or it was inadmissible because it was reputation evidence. The majority applied the heightened relevance requirement, so the case is, from that perspective, a simple illustration of the application of s 44(1) and (3).

Legal propositions distilled from obiter dicta are not ratio decidendi, and neither are legal propositions not agreed to by a majority. There is therefore no wide ratio in this case, and it is only narrow authority on the admissibility of evidence of the same kind as that sought to be adduced here.

Perhaps you share my suspicion that the whole issue was argued under the wrong sections. The intended evidence was about the witness's opinion of what the complainant was thinking. The governing provision is s 24:

"General admissibility of opinions

A witness may state an opinion in evidence in a proceeding if that opinion is necessary to enable the witness to communicate, or the fact-finder to understand, what the witness saw, heard, or otherwise perceived."

Here there was nothing that the witness "saw, heard, or otherwise perceived" other than the way the complainant was dressed. Her clothing did not require an explanation in the absence of any other overt conduct. There was no other conduct that the witness could point to that could require an explanation. Therefore the proposed opinion evidence was inadmissible.

Perverse acquittals and the limits of the law

Whether you are a stranded speluncean explorer or a shipwrecked sailor adrift and starving, the law applies to you. Even where you enter into a contract agreeing that the ordinary law will not apply, you can only do that if some law allows you to, and even then the law requires you to stick to what you have argeed.

Can the law embrace illegality?

Are there times when a sensible person, when told what the law requires, can be permitted to say, "Oh, don't be silly, the law's an ass"?

Can jurors be permitted to return verdicts of not guilty that are contrary to law? These are variously called perverse verdicts, conscience verdicts, merciful verdicts, or instances of jury lenity reflecting the jury's innate sense of justice. See the discussion here on 15 November 2013.

In very limited circumstances the law will recognise that jurors may return conscience verdicts: B(SC12/2013) v R [2013] NZSC 151 (19 December 2013). Here, on an appeal against conviction, the relevant issue was whether two verdicts were inconsistent. The focus in such appeals is on whether the conviction is lawful, not on the acquittal [105], but the acquittal is relevant to the extent that it reveals an irreconcilable error in the conviction. Opinions may differ, as they did here, on whether the acquittal could be explained logically without impugning the reasoning behind the conviction. But without a logical explanation for the inconsistency it might be possible, held the majority, to account for the acquittal as an instance of jury lenity, without impugning the conviction.

Elias CJ did not consider that this case was one of necessary inconsistency in verdicts [30]. There may have been a reasonable possibility, she held, that the prosecutor had not excluded an innocent belief in relation to that charge, while proving all the elements of the other. But she went further than that, and refused to accept that a jury may return a "lenient" verdict [28]:

" ... in the core function of determining guilt or innocence I do not think there is scope for other than conscientious discharge of the responsibility to decide on the evidence and according to law."

The majority disagreed. McGrath, Glazebrook and Arnold JJ [105]:

" ... If the court finds it difficult to understand on what basis the jury accepted a complainant's evidence at one point and not another, it is entitled to consider whether the jury may have departed from its instructions in giving a not guilty verdict, out of an innate sense of justice."

They held that while the difference in verdicts could have a logical explanation, this was also one of those rare cases where the jury might have thought that the conviction sufficiently captured the defendant's culpability for what was in substance a single interaction with the complainant [106].

William Young J said he agreed with the joint judgment [110], [131].

The reasoning which led the majority to accept that jury leniency can have legal effect occurs at [99], which is worth quoting in full:

"Potentially, however, jury leniency undermines the rule of law, creates uncertainty and operates unequally as between comparable defendants. [footnote: See, for example, R v Morgentaler [1988] 1 SCR 30 at [77] per Dickson CJC (with whom Lamer J joined); and Andrew D Leipold "Rethinking Jury Nullification" (1996) 82 Va L Rev 253.] Importantly for present purposes, jury leniency is in direct conflict with the premises on which jury trials are conducted, as reflected in trial judges' instructions to juries. But while jury leniency may not be encouraged – indeed, it is actively discouraged in jury instructions – that does not necessarily mean that its existence must always be ignored. There is widespread acknowledgement that juries do sometimes apply their innate sense of justice by convicting a defendant on one count and acquitting on another, even though the evidence would support convictions on both, and a general (albeit not universal) acceptance that the fact that this sometimes happens is, on balance, a beneficial feature of the jury system (the jury acting as the conscience of the community). Where an appellate court considers that a jury's "not guilty" verdict is explicable on this basis, it seems perverse that the court should be required to quash the conviction because it is not logically consistent with the acquittal. While logic in the law is important, it is not everything."

As I have previously said, a perverse verdict is not available at the request of the defendant, and this case demonstrates that it is, in contrast and when rarely available at all, a weapon for the prosecutor on appeal. While it seems comforting to think that a jury might be lenient when the letter of the law conflicts with conscience, there is attraction in the Chief Justice's position which would disallow illegality as a basis for upholding a conviction.

But there's more in this case: propensity, reputation, prior sexual experience! ... Later ...

[Update: Lord Judge referred to perverse verdicts as constitutional safeguards against barbaric laws in a discussion with Chief Justice Roberts on the 800^th anniversary of the sealing of the first issue of Magna Carta, available here on YouTube: view from the time setting 37:58.]