Outsmarting the smart

With my 3 July 2008 comments on Gafgen v Germany still at the forefront of your consciousness, you will be surprised that I have let a few days slip by before referring to the Grand Chamber's decision in the same case: Gafgen v Germany [2010] ECHR 759 (1 June 2010). The Court held 11 to 6 that although there had been a breach of Mr Gafgen's article 3 right not to be subjected to inhumane treatment (para 131), there was no breach of his fair trial rights under article 6 (para 187-188). Mr Gafgen had not sought a monetary award for the breach of article 3, merely a retrial, but this was not awarded as he had received a fair trial (190-191).

The Grand Chamber reiterated the law on article 3 (para 87-93), and applied it to this case (107):

"In this connection, the Court accepts the motivation for the police officers' conduct and that they acted in an attempt to save a child's life. However, it is necessary to underline that, having regard to the provision of Article 3 and to its long-established case-law (see paragraph 87 above), the prohibition on ill-treatment of a person applies irrespective of the conduct of the victim or the motivation of the authorities. Torture, inhuman or degrading treatment cannot be inflicted even in circumstances where the life of an individual is at risk. No derogation is allowed even in the event of a public emergency threatening the life of the nation. Article 3, which has been framed in unambiguous terms, recognises that every human being has an absolute, inalienable right not to be subjected to torture or to inhuman or degrading treatment under any circumstances, even the most difficult. The philosophical basis underpinning the absolute nature of the right under Article 3 does not allow for any exceptions or justifying factors or balancing of interests, irrespective of the conduct of the person concerned and the nature of the offence at issue."

And, a remedy for breach of article 3 cannot be confined merely to compensation (119):

"In cases of wilful ill-treatment the breach of Article 3 cannot be remedied only by an award of compensation to the victim. This is so because, if the authorities could confine their reaction to incidents of wilful ill-treatment by State agents to the mere payment of compensation, while not doing enough to prosecute and punish those responsible, it would be possible in some cases for agents of the State to abuse the rights of those within their control with virtual impunity, and the general legal prohibition of torture and inhuman and degrading treatment, despite its fundamental importance, would be ineffective in practice (see, among many other authorities, Krastanov, cited above, § 60; Çamdereli, cited above, § 29; and Vladimir Romanov, cited above, § 78)."

This means that the fairness of the trial must be examined, because Mr Gafgen had exhausted his domestic remedies (146). It is a quirk of Strasbourg jurisdiction that the Court assesses fairness without reference to the admissibility of evidence, which is a matter for domestic courts (162-163), although this limitation is obscured by the importance of article 3 (165):

" ... However, particular considerations apply in respect of the use in criminal proceedings of evidence obtained in breach of Article 3. The use of such evidence, secured as a result of a violation of one of the core and absolute rights guaranteed by the Convention, always raises serious issues as to the fairness of the proceedings, even if the admission of such evidence was not decisive in securing a conviction ... ."

For example, confessions obtained in breach of article 3 have led to trials being held to be unfair irrespective of the role of such confessions in prosecution cases (166), and violence in the nature of torture leading to the discovery of real evidence will also result in trial unfairness (167). Similarly, breach of the right to silence and the privilege against self-incrimination also lie at the heart of the right to a fair trial (168). The article 3 rights are absolute (176):

"While having regard to the above interests at stake in the context of Article 6, the Court cannot but take note of the fact that Article 3 of the Convention enshrines an absolute right. Being absolute, there can be no weighing of other interests against it, such as the seriousness of the offence under investigation or the public interest in effective criminal prosecution, for to do so would undermine its absolute nature (compare also, mutatis mutandis, Saadi v. Italy, cited above, §§ 138-39). In the Court's view, neither the protection of human life nor the securing of a criminal conviction may be obtained at the cost of compromising the protection of the absolute right not to be subjected to ill-treatment proscribed by Article 3, as this would sacrifice those values and discredit the administration of justice."

The Court then noted that the article 6 right is not absolute (178):

"However, contrary to Article 3, Article 6 does not enshrine an absolute right. The Court must therefore determine what measures are to be considered both necessary and sufficient in criminal proceedings concerning evidence secured as the result of a breach of Article 3 in order to secure effective protection of the rights guaranteed by Article 6. As established in its case-law (see paragraphs 165-167 above), the use of such evidence raises serious issues as to the fairness of the proceedings. Admittedly, in the context of Article 6, the admission of evidence obtained by conduct absolutely prohibited by Article 3 might be an incentive for law-enforcement officers to use such methods notwithstanding such absolute prohibition. The repression of, and the effective protection of individuals from, the use of investigation methods that breach Article 3 may therefore also require, as a rule, the exclusion from use at trial of real evidence which has been obtained as the result of any violation of Article 3, even though that evidence is more remote from the breach of Article 3 than evidence extracted immediately as a consequence of a violation of that Article. Otherwise, the trial as a whole is rendered unfair. However, the Court considers that both a criminal trial's fairness and the effective protection of the absolute prohibition under Article 3 in that context are only at stake if it has been shown that the breach of Article 3 had a bearing on the outcome of the proceedings against the defendant, that is, had an impact on his or her conviction or sentence."

I pause here to comment that treating the article 6 right as "not absolute" must be done with care. Article 6 does not contain one right only. The right to a "fair and public hearing" is not subject to limitations, but it is "derogable" in times of "war or other public emergency threatening the life of the nation" (article 15). That is the sense in which the right to a fair hearing is not an absolute right. The first sentence of para 178 did not need to refer to the non-absolute nature of the right to a fair hearing, as the second sentence makes it plain that effective protection of this right must be secured.

As noted in my earlier comment on this case, events at trial eclipsed the breach of article 3, and the admission at trial of the challenged evidence did not affect the fairness of the hearing.

Here, Mr Gafgen had made two confessions at trial, the second of which was crucial to his conviction (34-35,184). There is a little judicial sleight of hand on this (183):

"Moreover, the applicant, who was represented by defence counsel, stressed in his statements on the second day and at the end of the trial that he was confessing freely out of remorse and in order to take responsibility for his offence despite the events of 1 October 2002 (see paragraph 32 above). He did so notwithstanding the fact that he had previously failed in his attempt to have the impugned real evidence excluded. There is no reason, therefore, for the Court to assume that the applicant did not tell the truth and would not have confessed if the Regional Court had decided at the outset of the trial to exclude the impugned real evidence and that his confession should thus be regarded as a consequence of measures which extinguished the essence of his defence rights." [emphasis added]

The non sequitur in the italicised passage is obvious. A "free" and "remorseful" confession after a ruling that real evidence is admissible is not really "free" and "remorseful" – to be such it would need to have been given before the admissibility ruling.

Gafgen illustrates how an accused person's legal manoeuvring at trial can ultimately produce a result that he didn't want. The final appellate court makes the final legal manoeuvre.

I do not think that the issue of trial fairness should come down to the glib bluff-calling that occurred here. The Strasbourg Court needs to decide whether trial fairness means the same thing for all member states. It needs to define what trial fairness means, and to avoid irrelevant references to derogation. It needs to decide whether admissibility of improperly obtained evidence is a question that is relevant to the determination of trial fairness, and whether deference to local decisions on admissibility is necessarily appropriate. The Court needs to sort out the relationship between exclusion of evidence for reasons of public policy and exclusion of evidence to protect trial fairness. A ruling on trial fairness requires detailed consideration of the critical decisions made at trial in order to determine when they are a product of impropriety.

My suggestions: If all people are equally deserving of the protection of rights then the right to a fair trial must mean the same thing for everyone. Recognising that laws differ does not mean that trial fairness differs. A fair trial is one in which the law, whatever it may be, is applied correctly to facts that are determined impartially. Impartially means without bias and without an error that affects the proper assessment of what is admissible evidence and what is the true probative value of the admissible evidence. The admissibility of improperly obtained evidence is governed by judgment involving a balancing of policy values. If that balancing judgment is done incorrectly, there can be an impact on trial fairness through the creation of partiality in the determination of the facts. Deference to local decisions is not appropriate because a decision about trial fairness requires assessment of the correctness of admissibility decisions. An admissibility decision can affect the tactical decisions made by an accused in the course of conducting a defence, so if evidence has been wrongly admitted it is necessary to ask whether that could have affected the proper determination of the facts.

The trial fairness question in this case comes down to whether the trial court was correct to admit the real evidence. This is an issue of whether the real evidence is "fruit of the poisoned tree", and that, in the German court, was decided by a balancing of values: see the passage quoted in para 27 of the Chamber judgment Gafgen v Germany [2008] ECHR 565. In other jurisdictions this issue may be treated as a question of causation: whether there remains a causal link between the improper official conduct and the finding of the real evidence. Sometimes it is treated as a question of time and context. Notwithstanding the varied approaches to the admissibility of downstream evidence, the question here is whether the German approach is wrong. It would be difficult to show that it is. The Grand Chamber avoided dealing with this interesting problem; vile facts do not present a good opportunity for development of the law on trial fairness.

Expert opinions going too far

Experts should not express opinions about whether sexual activity was by consent without sufficient foundation: Tuhura v R [2010] NZCA 246 (10 June 2010).

The accused had been convicted of vaginal and anal sexual violation. His defence was consent. Of central importance was his claim that the complainant had invited him to return to her residence later that night. There was contested medical evidence, to the effect that injuries to the complainant were unlikely to be the result of consensual intercourse.

The Court of Appeal took the opportunity to review cases where expert opinion of this nature had been regarded as being without foundation, and concluded that this was such a case. The Court asked that its judgment be distributed to prosecutors, defence counsel and relevant doctors.

The kinds of injuries that have been held not to support an opinion that they were unlikely to be the result of consensual intercourse are (and here you may want a map):

• Three fresh lacerations in the area of the fossa navicularis
  
• Lacerations in the region of the anus, no injuries to the hymen or posterior forchette
  
• Tenderness and abrasions in the vaginal area, thickish brown discharge with pieces of traumatised tissue, some bruising
  
• Split in vaginal area of triangular shape in surface skin, 1 cm base and 2 cm on sides, quite red
  
• Three minor tears in vaginal area, longest 5 mm at mouth of vagina, tender areas at vaginal entrance and deep in vagina
  
• Superficial graze about 5 mm long on hymen
  

The problem is that there are no studies of injuries sustained during consensual sexual activity with which to compare those alleged to have been incurred without consent.

"56. ... In cases where the injuries suffered by the complainant are not such that a doctor can properly express a view as to whether the sexual contact prior to the injuries being incurred was consensual or not, the doctor should not be asked to express a view. If the question is asked, the response should indicate that he or she cannot properly express a view one way or the other. The issue of consent will be at the forefront of the jury's mind. There is a real risk that if an expert suggests that injuries are indicative of non-consensual sexual activity, jurors may decide the case on the false understanding that the fact that the complainant suffered injuries makes it more likely that the associated sexual contact was non-consensual."

The Court added (60) that in cases of more serious injury an opinion as to consent might be warranted.

Admission of the opinion evidence of non-consent here was a miscarriage of justice. This required the Court to consider the proviso, in particular to apply Matenga v R [2009] NZSC 18 (commented on here, 20 July 2009, and see also 1 January 2010).

There is a small error in the judgment in the present case, Tuhura:

"89. We are satisfied that, apart from the admission of the contested medical evidence, the trial was fair. ..."

This seems to say, the trial was not fair because of the admission of the contested medical evidence.

Contrast that with the point made in Matenga, footnote 20:

"In R v Condon [2007] 1 NZLR 300 (SC) at paras [77] and [79] this Court equated breach of the right to a fair trial with a substantial miscarriage of justice."

That means the proviso cannot apply where the trial is unfair. In Matenga the Supreme Court continued (31), in a passage included in a quotation from that case in Turuha at 67:

"Before applying the proviso the Court must also be satisfied that the trial was fair [footnote: The assessment of fairness is to be made in relation to the trial overall: Condon at para [78]] and thus that there was no breach of the right guaranteed to the accused by s 25(a) of the Bill of Rights."

Plainly, the Court in Tuhura meant, in para 89, to say "notwithstanding" instead of "apart from", so that the passage quoted should have read:

"89. We are satisfied that, notwithstanding the admission of the contested medical evidence, the trial was fair. ..."

I emphasise this point because to some readers this case might open the door for submissions that a conviction at an unfair trial can be upheld on appeal. Matenga does not address in detail the relationship between a substantial miscarriage of justice and a fair trial, other than to say that an unfair trial is a substantial miscarriage of justice. It seems that, once an appellate court decides that a conviction was inevitable, being properly based on admissible evidence, the trial could only be called unfair if there had been a reasonable apprehension of bias, or if there had been an inequality of arms disadvantaging the defence, or if fresh evidence raised a reasonable doubt as to the safety of the conviction in the mind of the appellate court. My view is that "trial fairness" deserves its own heading in judgments in this area, because it addresses these distinct concerns.

The Tuhura Court concluded that there was no support in the evidence for the accused's contention that the complainant had invited him to her residence, and that in the absence of such an invitation the defence of consent could not raise a reasonable doubt. The appeal was dismissed.

Update: The Supreme Court refused leave to appeal: Tuhura v R [2010] NZSC 128 (2 November 2010).

Weighing: fact or law?

Where a judge has to balance one consideration against another, is the determination of the weight to be given to each consideration a question of fact or of law?

Yesterday the United Kingdom Supreme Court held that weight is a question of fact: Secretary of State for the Home Department v AP [2010] UKSC 24 (16 June 2010), at para 12:

"The weight to be given to a relevant consideration is, of course, always a question of fact and entirely a matter for the decision-maker – subject only to a challenge for irrationality which neither has nor could have been advanced here. All this is trite law and indeed the contrary was not argued before us."

The context here was whether the conditions of a control order made under the Prevention of Terrorism Act 2005[UK] breached article 5 of the European Convention on Human Rights, the right to liberty. The Court held that restrictions on liberty that might otherwise have been justified might be rendered unjustifiable when a breach of the right to respect for private and family life (article 8) is taken into account. Because article 8 is relevant it is capable of tipping the balance.

That sort of balancing has wider application than just control orders. Bail conditions must be reasonable. Evidence improperly obtained may or may not be admissible, depending on a balancing of public and private interests. Are these balancing exercises always questions of fact unless they are done irrationally?

The question is significant where there are limitations on rights of appeal to questions of law.

As I noted earlier (18 May 2010) in R v Gwaze [2010] NZSC 52 the New Zealand Supreme Court held that decisions on the admissibility of evidence are decisions on questions of law. Such decisions can involve balancing of competing rights, particularly under s 30 Evidence Act 2006. If these were questions of law, the weight given to relevant considerations would not be entirely for the decision-maker. What seemed "trite" to the UKSC in the context it was addressing in AP is certainly not trite in the Gwaze context.

Free speech and fair trials

Prospective jurors can safely be told anything about an accused's past. That radical proposition receives some support from the High Court of Australia in today's decision in Dupas v R [2010] HCA 20 (16 June 2010).

The fact that the accused had been previously convicted of two murders that happened in 1997 and 1999 was widely publicised in the Australian media, so that on his present trial for a third murder it was submitted on his behalf that the proceedings should be stayed because he could not get a fair trial.

Untenable as a general proposition though that may be, the question of whether a stay is required must be addressed in the circumstances of each case. When this is looked at from the post-trial appeal perspective, the appellate court can examine the measures that were taken to give effect to the accused's right to a fair hearing.

A general proposition about stays that is usually advanced is that they are only given in extreme cases. The High Court held (18) that the following should be regarded as an authoritative statement of principle:

"[A] permanent stay will only be ordered in an extreme case [citing
Jago v District Court (NSW) [1989] HCA 46; (1989) 168 CLR 23 at 34] and there must be a fundamental defect 'of such a nature that nothing that a trial judge can do in the conduct of the trial can relieve against its unfair consequences' [citing Barton v The Queen [1980] HCA 48; (1980) 147 CLR 75 at 111 per Wilson J; [1980] HCA 48]. And a court of criminal appeal, before it will set aside a conviction on the ground of a miscarriage of justice, requires to be satisfied that there is a serious risk that the pre-trial publicity has deprived the accused of a fair trial. It will determine that question in the light of the evidence as it stands at the time of the trial and in the light of the way in which the trial was conducted, including the steps taken by the trial judge with a view to ensuring a fair trial." R v Glennon (1992) 173 CLR 592; [1992] HCA 16 at pp 605-606 per Mason CJ and Toohey J.

The power to stay proceedings, described as an "inherent power" by Lord Blackburn in Metropolitan Bank Ltd v Pooley (1885) 10 App Cas 210 at 220-221, has what is broadly called a constitutional dimension, which makes the courts reluctant to interfere with decisions whether to prosecute or to continue with prosecutions: Moevao v Department of Labour [1980] 1 NZLR 464 at 481, and Fox v Attorney-General [2002] 3 NZLR 62 at para 28.

Thus the obvious common-sense objections to allowing stays to recidivists whose records are publicised are supported by these strains of legal principle.

The law must assume that juries will obey instructions given to them by trial judges. The High Court noted this important point as a counter to the denial of the "social imperative" that requires that an accused be brought to trial, that would occur if the media were able to render an accused unable to be tried. The Court referred (26) to the remarks of Hughes J, endorsed by the Court of Appeal, in R v Abu Hamza [2007] QB 659 at 685-686:

"Extensive publicity and campaigns against potential defendants are by no means unknown in cases of notoriety. Whilst the law of contempt operates to minimise it, it is not always avoidable, especially where intense public concern arises about a particular crime and a particular defendant before any charge is brought. Jurors are in such cases capable of understanding that comment in the media might or might not be justified and that it is to find out whether it is that is one of their tasks. They are capable of understanding that allegations which have been made may be true or may not be and that they, the jury, are to have the opportunity and responsibility of hearing all the evidence which commentators in the media have not and of deciding whether in fact the allegations are true or not. They are not surprised to be warned not to take at face value what appears in the media, nor are they these days so deferential to politicians as to be incapable of understanding that they should make no assumptions about whether any statements made by such people are justified or not. They are also capable of understanding and habitually apply the direction that they are given about the standard of proof."

True, there may sometimes be perverse verdicts favouring the accused (27):

" ... in Gammage v The Queen [[1969] HCA 68; (1969) 122 CLR 444 at 463; [1969] HCA 68] Windeyer J expressed the governing principle in terms which acknowledged that the jury room might not be a place of undeviating intellectual and logical rigour (a point made by Callinan J in Gilbert v The Queen [[2000] HCA 15; (2000) 201 CLR 414 at 440 [96]; [2000] HCA 15]) by saying:

"A jury in a criminal case may sometimes, from compassion or prejudice or other ulterior motive, fail to perform their sworn duty to determine the case before them according to the evidence. If they do so in favour of the prisoner, and not of the Crown, the law is powerless to correct their dereliction. They must be assumed to have been faithful to their duty. Their verdict must be accepted."

See also my comments on perverse verdicts (R v Wang 14 February 2005, R v Wanhalla 25 August 2006; R v Krieger 27 October 2006).

It comes down to this (29):

"What, however, is vital to the criminal justice system is the capacity of jurors, when properly directed by trial judges, to decide cases in accordance with the law, that is, by reference only to admissible evidence led in court and relevant submissions, uninfluenced by extraneous considerations. That capacity is critical to ensuring that criminal proceedings are fair to an accused."

And the point is not so much the extreme or rare nature of the circumstances needed to support a stay, as the assurance of trial fairness (35):

"Characterising a case as extreme or singular is to recognise the rarity of a situation in which the unfair consequences of an apprehended defect in a trial cannot be relieved against by the trial judge during the course of a trial. There is no definitive category of extreme cases in which a permanent stay of criminal proceedings will be ordered. In seeking to apply the relevant principle in Glennon, the question to be asked in any given case is not so much whether the case can be characterised as extreme, or singular, but rather, whether an apprehended defect in a trial is "of such a nature that nothing that a trial judge can do in the conduct of the trial can relieve against its unfair consequences."

There is a risk of misinterpretation of the last sentence in para 37 of the High Court's judgment. The para reads:

"A further consideration is the need to take into account the substantial public interest of the community in having those who are charged with criminal offences brought to trial [footnote: R v Glennon [1992] HCA 16; (1992) 173 CLR 592 at 598 per Mason CJ and Toohey J], the "social imperative" as Nettle JA called it, as a permanent stay is tantamount to a continuing immunity from prosecution [footnote: R v Glennon [1992] HCA 16; (1992) 173 CLR 592 at 599 per Mason CJ and Toohey J]. Because of this public interest, fairness to the accused is not the only consideration bearing on a court's decision as to whether a trial should proceed [footnote: Jago v District Court (NSW) [1989] HCA 46; (1989) 168 CLR 23 at 33 per Mason CJ]."

The dicta on this in Jago precede the common law's recognition of the accused's right to a fair trial as an absolute right which is not to be reduced by being balanced against other rights (see my comments on R(Ullah) v Special Adjudicator 3 September 2004; Grant v R (Jamaica) 20 January 2006; Williams v R (Jamaica) 26 April 2006; Condon v R 24 August 2006; R v Davis 19 June 2008; Al-Khawaja and Tahery v United Kingdom 27 January 2009; R v Grant 18 July 2009). It seems likely that what the High Court means here is that the "social imperative" will be given as full effect as is possible, consistent with the absolute right of the accused to a fair trial.

In the present case there was held to have been no unacceptable risk of trial unfairness and the appeal was dismissed. This case did not require examination of the full extent of the inherent power to stay proceedings.

This case illustrates that jury trials can be sufficiently robust to function correctly in the context of vigorously exercised freedom of speech.

The significance of silence

Hush! My silence means I might speak! My silence has a Beckettian significance.

"Today's decision turns Miranda upside down. Criminal suspects must now unambiguously invoke their right to remain silent—which, counterintuitively, requires them to speak. At the same time, suspects will be legally presumed to have waived their rights even if they have given no clear expression of their intent to do so. Those results, in my view, find no basis in Miranda or our subsequent cases and are inconsistent with the fair-trial principles on which those precedents are grounded. Today's broad new rules are all the more unfortunate because they are unnecessary to the disposition of the case before us. I respectfully dissent."

Sotomayor J (joined by Stevens, Ginsburg and Breyer JJ) in Berghuis v Thompkins [2010] USSC No 08-1470, 1 June 2010, criticised the majority's undermining of the "heavy burden" on the prosecution to show that a suspect waived his Miranda right to silence, and the majority's acceptance of silence in the face of police questioning as not being an assertion of the right to remain silent.

She pointed out that the question of waiver has been treated as entirely different from the question of invocation of the right to silence. It was not for the accused to prove that he invoked the right, it was for the prosecution to prove that he waived it, citing Smith v. Illinois, 469 U. S. 91, 98 (1984) (per curiam). This burden was characterised as heavy in Arizona v. Roberson, 486 U. S. 675, 680 (1988).

In Berghuis v Thompkins the suspect had remained silent (except for an occasional single word non-committal response, and commenting that his chair was hard, and that he did not want a peppermint) throughout two and three quarter hours of police interrogation, until he was asked if he had prayed to God for forgiveness for the shooting, to which he replied with only one word, "Yes".

The opinion of the Court was delivered by Kennedy J. The majority denied that a custodial interrogation was inherently coercive. The Miranda right to silence is to be treated in the same way as the Miranda right to counsel: it must be invoked unambiguously and once invoked the interrogation must stop. Thus here it was for Mr Thompkins to say that he did not want to speak. Waiver occurred when he answered the question. There was, said the majority, no evidence that Mr Thompkins did not understand what he was giving up when he spoke, or that his answer was in any sense involuntary.

The police do not, held the majority, need to establish a waiver at the outset before embarking on an interrogation. If the suspect understands his rights he can review his position as the questioning proceeds, if he wishes. By saying he will remain silent he can terminate the interrogation.

"The prosecution therefore does not need to show that a waiver of Miranda rights was express. An "implicit waiver" of the "right to remain silent" is sufficient to admit a suspect's statement into evidence. Butler, [441 U. S.] at 376. Butler made clear that a waiver of Miranda rights may be implied through "the defendant's silence, coupled with an understanding of his rights and a course of conduct indicating waiver." 441 U. S., at 373. The Court in Butler therefore "retreated" from the "language and tenor of the Miranda opinion," which "suggested that the Court would require that a waiver be 'specifically made.' " Connecticut v. Barrett, 479 U. S. 523, 531–532 (1987) (Brennan, J., concurring in judgment)."

So here, in the absence of an express invoking of the right to silence, once the prosecution established that the suspect understood the rights, waiver of the right was established by what the majority regarded as a course of conduct: prolonged silence in the face of interrogation, and then an incriminating one-word response.

"In sum, a suspect who has received and understood the Miranda warnings, and has not invoked his Miranda rights, waives the right to remain silent by making an uncoerced statement to the police. Thompkins did not invoke his right to remain silent and stop the questioning. Understanding his rights in full, he waived his right to remain silent by making a voluntary statement to the police. The police, moreover, were not required to obtain a waiver of Thompkins's right to remain silent before interrogating him."

Would the same result have occurred in Canada? See R v Turcotte, discussed here 5 October 2005.

One of the law's little dishonesties (to add to the one I mentioned on 13 January 2010 and in continuation of the theme noted on 3 March 2005) found in many jurisdictions, is the giving of rights in a constrained way, without clear explanation of how they can be exercised. Here is the advice Mr Thompkins was given pursuant to Miranda:

"NOTIFICATION OF CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS AND STATEMENT

"1. You have the right to remain silent.

"2. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

"3. You have a right to talk to a lawyer before answering any questions and you have the right to have a lawyer present with you while you are answering any questions.

"4. If you cannot afford to hire a lawyer, one will be appointed to represent you before any questioning, if you wish one.

"5. You have the right to decide at any time before or during questioning to use your right to remain silent and your right to talk with a lawyer while you are being questioned."

I would have thought, on the basis of what he had been told in para 5 of this notification, that in not answering questions Mr Thompkins was exercising the right in para 1. But given that silence in the face of questioning is not in law an assertion (or "invocation") of the right to remain silent, and that silence does not preclude some future waiver of the right, the Court should have taken the opportunity to make the statement of rights clearer. It should have added to para 5 a statement that questioning will stop when the person asks the police to stop questioning.

The durability of inducements

R v SGT [2010] SCC 20 (27 May 2010) gives us a reminder of some fundamentals about life and law.

• A person who would, if charged with a particular offence, plead not guilty, should not confess guilt to the police.
  
• Nor should he rely on any suggestion from the police that if he confesses he will not be charged.
  
• Nor should he confess guilt to any person who could be called as a witness against him.
  
• 
  

These self-evidently sensible stratagems seem often to be overlooked, and when they are it is difficult for defence counsel to get such blithe confessions excluded. The second sort of confession listed above should, if there is evidence that it occurred as a result of an improper inducement by a person in authority, be excluded, but confessions to people who do not exercise a relevant authority are almost impossible to exclude. There would need to be shown to be some unfairness in using the evidence, if there was no operative improper inducement.

There are some distinctions in terminology that can make discussion more precise. As Charron J, delivering the majority judgment in SGT, held at 20, the term "admission" is apposite for a confession made to someone who is not in authority, and "confession" is a confession made to a person in authority. The different usage is just a reminder that the confession rules apply to the latter but not to the former. Any statement, whether an admission or a confession, must always be voluntary. Charron J set out (21-23) the relevant aspects of the "person in authority" requirement which had been addressed in R v Hodgson, 1998 CanLII 798 (S.C.C.), [1998] 2 S.C.R. 449. After explaining why that didn't apply in SGT, she then considered the "derived confessions rule", the leading case on which is R v I (LR) and T (E), 1993 CanLII 51 (S.C.C.), [1993] 4 S.C.R. 504.

This rule can be thought of as embracing at least some of the fairness considerations that could be relevant. Essentially it recognises that there can be situations where an earlier inducement by a person in authority continues to operate on the accused's mind and to influence his decision to make a subsequent confession to someone else. The latter confession is not then the free and voluntary product of the accused's will. Was the factor that tainted the original confession a substantial cause of the second? Relevant considerations can be the time between the statements, whether the second was made by reference to the first, whether there were other similarities in the circumstances in which the two statements were made, whether the second could have been prompted by new evidence (Charron J at 29).

This derived confessions rule has applied, as the terminology indicates, to confessions, and the question now was whether it also applied to admissions (30).

Here the Court split:

"[32] I respectfully disagree with Fish J. that "as a matter of principle and logic" it is clear that "derived confessions need not be made to a person in authority in order to be found inadmissible" (para. 44). As a matter of principle, this broad assertion ignores the distinction between confessions and admissions discussed earlier. As for logic, much will depend on the facts of the particular case. Logic may have compelled the conclusion reached in G. (B.)
[1999 CanLII 690 (S.C.C.), [1999] 2 S.C.R. 475] where the later statement, which actually contained the earlier tainted confession given to the police, was made to a psychiatrist during the course of a court‑ordered examination into his mental condition. It may not be so compelling in a case where, for example, the accused repeats the contents of the tainted confession to a personal friend who has no connection to the prosecution."

It was not necessary for the majority to decide the point, it being sufficient for the purposes of this case to assume that it was arguable that the second statement could be excluded if there were to be a sufficient evidentiary basis connecting the earlier inducement to the second statement. This could be, if not on a common law derived confessions basis, "perhaps on a Charter basis" (33):

"The distinction between the two possible bases for exclusion remains important as the application of the common law "derived confessions rule" would result in the automatic exclusion of the tainted statement, whereas under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms the question of exclusion would fall to be determined under s. 24(2)."

It was significant here that the defence had consented to the admission of the second statement, and that the trial judge was entitled to rely on counsel making responsible tactical decisions (36-37). The record of the evidence did not suggest that such an objection would have succeeded: there was not the required evidentiary link between the inducement and the second statement.

This ground of appeal having failed, the case was remitted to the Saskatchewan Court of Appeal for determination of other appeal grounds.

A critical age

A glance at practice in other nations supported the United States Supreme Court's decision (6-3) that the Constitution does not permit a person under the age of 18 years at the time of his offending to be sentenced to life imprisonment without parole for a nonhomicide offence: Graham v Florida [2010] USSC No 08-7142, 17 May 2010.

The Eighth Amendment, "Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted", is the governing provision. Kennedy J, delivering the opinion of the Court, observed:

"To determine whether a punishment is cruel and unusual, courts must look beyond historical conceptions to " 'the evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society.' " Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S. 97, 102 (1976) (quoting Trop v. Dulles, 356 U. S. 86, 101 (1958) (plurality opinion)). "This is because '[t]he standard of extreme cruelty is not merely descriptive, but necessarily embodies a moral judgment. The standard itself remains the same, but its applicability must change as the basic mores of society change.' " Kennedy v. Louisiana, 554 U. S. ___, ___ (2008) (slip op., at 8) (quoting Furman v. Georgia, 408 U. S. 238, 382 (1972) (Burger, C. J., dissenting))."

The criterion is proportionality, and the Court has adopted a classification of cases: there are firstly, cases where all the circumstances are considered. For example,

"...closely divided, the Court rejected a challenge to a sentence of 25 years to life for the theft of a few golf clubs under California's so-called three-strikes recidivist sentencing scheme. Ewing v. California, 538 U. S. 11 (2003); see also Lockyer v. Andrade, 538 U. S. 63 (2003)."

These startling but acceptable punishments have been upheld in a decision process where the offender (appellant) must show, as a threshold, gross disproportionality between the sentence and the crime before the appellate court will proceed to compare his sentence with those imposed in the same jurisdiction and in other jurisdictions. The sentence is only cruel and unusual if this comparison confirms the initial perception of gross disproportionality.

The present case was not in this category.

The second category in the classification of cases is where rules are applied to define Eighth Amendment standards. Until now, these cases had concerned the death penalty. There were two subsets of cases in this second category: those considering the nature of the offence, and those considering the characteristics of the offender. So, the death penalty cannot be applied where the crime against an individual is not a homicide. Nor can it be applied where the crime was committed when the offender was under 18 years old. Nor where his intellectual functioning was in a low range.

Since the present case was not in the first category, the threshold approach was not applicable. This case sought an addition to the subsets in the second category so that it would apply to all those who were under 18 years old at the time of their offending.

The advantage of a case being in the second category is that without a threshold having to be met the Court would look at the national legislation and sentencing practice to see if there is consensus indicating society's standards, then the Court would exercise its own independent judgment to decide whether the punishment violates the Eighth Amendment in the light of precedent, text, history, meaning and purpose.

The Court looked at national sentencing practice and concluded

"The sentencing practice now under consideration is exceedingly rare. And "it is fair to say that a national consensus has developed against it." Atkins v. Virginia, 536 U. S. 304 (2002)16, at 316."

Then,

"The judicial exercise of independent judgment requires consideration of the culpability of the offenders at issue in light of their crimes and characteristics, along with the severity of the punishment in question."

The Court's precedents regarding the characteristics of juvenile offenders, their vulnerabilities and their prospects for reform on maturity, the need for a line to be drawn between murderers and other offenders, and the severity of a sentence of life imprisonment without parole especially for juveniles, the absence of any penological justification (retribution, deterrence, incapacitation, rehabilitation) for such a sentence, led to the conclusion that for a juvenile offender who did not commit homicide the Eighth Amendment forbids the sentence of life without parole.

So, why the age of 18 as the dividing line?

The alternative would be a case-by-case approach to assessing an offender's responsibility, but the Court rejected that because a sentencing court could be easily influenced, by the depravity of offending, to underestimate the offender's chance of reform, and also because juveniles do not necessarily communicate adequately with their counsel. All juveniles should be given the opportunity to demonstrate maturity, to show remorse, and to achieve rehabilitation.

Looking beyond the borders of the USA, the Court noted that the sentencing policy hitherto adhered to is rejected the world over.

"This observation does not control our decision. The judgments of other nations and the international community are not dispositive as to the meaning of the Eighth Amendment. But " '[t]he climate of international opinion concerning the acceptability of a particular punishment' " is also " 'not irrelevant.' " Enmund, 458 U. S., at 796, n. 22."

...

"We also note, as petitioner and his amici emphasize, that Article 37(a) of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, Nov. 20, 1989, 1577 U. N. T. S. 3 (entered into force Sept. 2, 1990), ratified by every nation except the United States and Somalia, prohibits the imposition of "life imprisonment without possibility of release . . . for offences committed by persons below eighteen years of age.""

The mental elements of conspiracy

Conspiracy is an agreement to commit an offence plus an intention that the offence should be committed by one or more of the conspirators. This means that recklessness as to whether or not the offence is committed is not enough: there must be an intention that it will be committed: R v LK; R v RK [2010] HCA 17 (26 May 2010).

When I summarise it so simply, the position seems obvious. How could it possibly be argued that D is conspiring if he is only reckless as to whether the full offence is committed?

In the appeals in LK and RK the alleged full offence was dealing with money while being reckless as to whether or not it was proceeds of crime. So, on the alleged conspiracies, why wasn't it enough for Ds to agree to deal with the money while intending that they should be reckless as to whether the money was proceeds of crime?

Intending to be reckless, in this context, is the same as being reckless as to whether there is an agreement to commit the offence. Therefore it is insufficient for conspiracy.

The joint judgment of Gummow, Hayne, Crennan, Kiefel and Bell JJ (and Heydon J agreeing at 145) puts it like this at 122:

" ... At the time the agreement was made the money may, or may not, have been (or have become) proceeds of crime. The agreement, if carried out in accordance with LK's and RK's intention, may not have involved a dealing with money that is proceeds of crime. It follows that, on the evidence given at the trial, it was not open to find that either respondent intentionally entered an agreement to commit the offence that is said to have been the object of the conspiracy."

French CJ said much the same thing at 77:

" ... There cannot be a conspiracy in which the parties to the agreement are reckless as to the existence of a circumstance which is a necessary element of the offence said to be the subject of the conspiracy. Such recklessness would be inconsistent with the very intention that is necessary at common law and under the Code to form the agreement alleged. In this case that intention is an intention to deal with money which is proceeds of crime. Recklessness as to whether the money is proceeds of crime is recklessness about a term of the agreement constituting the conspiracy...".

The Chief Justice leaves it to law students to work out whether his reasons on this point are the same as those of the other justices.

And, while you can't recklessly conspire, you can conspire to be reckless: Ansari v R [2010] HCA 18 (26 May 2010). In LK there was recklessness as to recklessness, and no conspiracy, whereas in Ansari there was intention to be reckless, and a conspiracy. The mens rea for conspiracy must be kept separate from the mens rea for the full offence. Whatever the latter may be, intention to commit the full offence is required for the conspiracy. 

Highest procedural protection, but not by jury trial

Since proceedings for contempt of court must be summary, in the sense that jury trials are not appropriate for contempt, they cannot be punished at a level that would carry the right to jury trial: Siemer v Solicitor-General [2010] NZSC 54 (17 May 2010) per Blanchard, Wilson and Anderson JJ.

The minority (Elias CJ and McGrath J) agreed that summary procedure for attempt was necessary, but that punishment could be imposed at a level that would otherwise require a jury trial because that was a justified limitation on the right to trial by jury.

Therefore Mr Siemer won this appeal, in the sense that the punishment for his contempt could not exceed 3 months' imprisonment – the level at which in New Zealand the right to jury trial arises (with some minor exceptions) pursuant to s 24(e) New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990.

The reasoning in the majority judgment contains an interesting turn-around, without being objectionable. Starting from the proposition that whenever a person can be punished by imprisonment he is entitled to the highest procedural protection known to the law (citing Wilson J as she then was in R v Wigglesworth [1987] 2 SCR 541), and that this applies whether or not the liability arises from criminal or civil proceedings, the majority added that s 5 of the Bill of Rights does not permit an exception to the right to trial by jury if the penalty for a contempt should be more than three months' imprisonment. So far, so good: one would think the majority reasoning was heading to a conclusion that jury trial was available. But no. There had never been a jury trial in proceedings for contempt in New Zealand, and the Court of Appeal had held that contempt proceedings are not indictable: Solicitor-General v Radio Avon Ltd [1978] 1 NZLR 225 at 235, as had the House of Lords: Re Lonrho Plc [1990] 2 AC 154. Since jury trial is inappropriate for contempt, the maximum penalty cannot exceed the summary level.

Obviously, repetition of the contempt could attract a further sentence. This was a case of contempt committed by a blogger, and the majority noted that it seems that on the internet a new contempt is committed every time access is permitted to the relevant item: Loutchansky v Times Newspapers Ltd (No 2) [2001] EWCA Civ 1085 at 51 – 76; Dow Jones & Company Inc v Gutnick (2002) 210 CLR 575 at 42 - 44, 128 and 191 – 196. The majority noted that some long periods of imprisonment have occurred for on-going contempts in the United States (para 58, footnote 65), but "It is very unlikely, indeed impossible, that a New Zealand court would follow that extreme example...".

Here the sentence was tailored to give the contemnor the opportunity of immediate release upon his cessation of the contempt and upon his undertaking not to repeat it, and indeed the commencement of the sentence was delayed to give him that opportunity. It seems that Mr Siemer believes that he removed the offending items from his site some time ago.

Relativity and mitigating factors

Lawyers' reasoning is not always easy for non-lawyers to grasp. It is obvious to criminal lawyers that if at sentencing a mitigating factor is absent, the offender is not being punished additionally because of that absence.

Today the High Court of Australia addressed this sort of logic in Republic of Croatia v Snedden [2010] HCA 14. Mr Snedden had resisted extradition to Croatia by claiming as an extradition objection that if tried in Croatia he would be subject to additional punishment because of his political beliefs. Service in the Croatian army, he claimed, was treated as a mitigating factor in relation to the relevant offences, and since he had served in the Serbian army he would be subject to additional punishment.

Heydon J pointed out that there was no factual substratum for Mr Snedden's claim. There was an absence of proof of the practice of Croatian courts in the relevant respect (83). So it was unnecessary to consider the issues that would arise if there was such proof.

The other members of the Court did address those issues. French CJ highlighted the absence of a causal connection between the absence of the mitigating factor and the claimed relevance of Mr Snedden's political beliefs to the punishment he could face (24). Just because the Croatian court would not be able to mitigate penalty on the basis of service in the Croatian army, did not mean that the court would be considering what Mr Snedden's political beliefs might have been.

French CJ did not dissent from the general proposition in the joint judgment (Gummow, Hayne, Crennan, Kiefel and Bell JJ at 79) that absence of a mitigating factor does not mean that an offender is being punished for its absence:

"79 A rational sentencing system will accommodate mitigating factors arising from the circumstances of the offender and the offence. In that context, ineligibility for a mitigating factor at the sentencing stage of a trial cannot be said to be punishment. Conceptually, the absence of a mitigating factor does not constitute or attract punishment. In particular, the absence of a mitigating factor is not an aggravating factor. Thus, while a plea of guilty is a mitigating factor, a plea of not guilty is not an aggravating factor."

There was no evidence here that absence of the mitigating factor would be treated as a punishment.

By way of comment, one might say it is all relative. If there were two accused persons being sentenced, only one of whom could rely on the mitigating factor (for example a plea of guilty), then from the point of view of the accused who pleaded not guilty, he is receiving a heavier punishment than the other, and the only reason – from his own point of view – is that he pleaded not guilty. He does not see the big picture. It is only when the frame of reference is changed to that of a third person (a spectator or the judge) that the wider theory of sentencing is apparent.

Courts insist on the "big picture" frame of reference because there are sound policy reasons for recognising mitigating factors. That is sensible and inevitable. Getting clients to understand the justice of the reasoning is an entirely different problem.

Finding mistrial and ordering retrial after acquittal

In R v Gwaze [2010] NZSC 52 (17 May 2010) a retrial was ordered because some defence evidence had been admitted wrongly and there had been no proper opportunity at trial for the Crown to respond to it.

There is nothing particularly odd about that. Unusual, yes, because this was an appeal against an acquittal, and this seems to be the first time in New Zealand that a retrial has been ordered on this sort of appeal. Occasionally there are appeals on questions of law reserved during trials (s 380 Crimes Act 1961) – but success on these is not inevitably followed by retrial.

A number of interesting points were considered in this judgment of the Court delivered by the Chief Justice:

Double jeopardy

The rules concerning double jeopardy (s 26(2) New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990) do not apply in this context because there is a high hurdle (s 382(2)(b) Crimes Act 1961) for the prosecution to overcome before a retrial will be ordered and there is no need for the extra protection that the rules against double jeopardy afford (para 67).

Mistrial

A mistrial (s 382(2)(b) Crimes Act 1961) occurs where an error at trial is reasonably capable of affecting the verdict, in the sense that it is highly material to the verdict so that the integrity of the verdict was undermined by it (57, 61), applying R v Matenga [2009] NZSC 18 (blogged here 9 July 2009 and 20 July 2009).

Question of law

A ruling as to the admissibility of evidence is a ruling on a question of law (52). This should be obvious, because admissibility is governed by statute (with minor exceptions) and the application of statute is a matter of law. To get to that conclusion, however, an unnecessary change in terminology was made: the decision to admit or exclude evidence is no longer to be called a discretion: it is an exercise of judgment (49, 51). The description in R v Leonard [2008] 2 NZLR 218, (2007) 23 CRNZ 624 (CA) para 22 of the balancing exercise in determining the admissibility of improperly obtained evidence as a "discretion" will have to be read in this new light.

In this case (and I do not discuss the facts as a retrial was ordered) the contested evidence should have been ruled inadmissible because it was unreliable hearsay (44), it was opinion that was not substantially helpful (46), and its prejudicial effect outweighed its (zero) probative value (48).

The Court held that the evidence was irrelevant (37-40). Strictly, there was no need for the Court to give other reasons for its being inadmissible, as s 7(2) Evidence Act 2006 excludes it. Even so, the evidence was irrelevant because it was not sufficiently connected to the facts in the trial. It was a preliminary assessment, recognising a possibility that a connection might emerge, but also recognising that there may be no connection, and that further inquiry was needed.

Clean scene or snitch glitch?

My criticism of the New Zealand Supreme Court's majority decision in Morgan v R can now be assessed in the light of a correct approach by the Supreme Court of Canada to the use of a jailhouse informer's evidence in R v Hurley [2010] SCC 18 (14 May 2010).

In Hurley the cell mate claimed that the accused had confessed to him that he had cleaned the crime scene in an effort to remove evidence of his participation; in particular, he had attempted to remove all traces of his DNA.

One of the requirements of the warning that must be given to the jury in such cases (this in Canada is called the Vetrovec warning, after R v Vetrovec [1982] 1 SCR 811) applies where reasons to doubt the reliability of a witness may not be self-evident to the jury:

"something in the nature of confirmatory evidence should be found before the finder of fact relies upon the evidence of a witness whose testimony occupies a central position in the purported demonstration of guilt and yet may be suspect by reason of the witness being an accomplice or complainant or of disreputable character..." (Vetrovec, per Dickson J, para 42).

See also my discussion of R v Khela [2009] SCC 4.

In the circumstances in Hurley, supporting evidence for the cell mate could only be evidence that the crime scene had been cleaned. There was no issue that the accused had been at the scene, but he gave an innocent explanation for that, so presence of some of his DNA would not be conclusive. This is encapsulated in para 7 of Hurley (Mr Niemi is the cell mate):

"The evidence about the attempts to clean the room was unquestionably significant to the Crown's case. In his closing address, Crown counsel submitted to the jury that, on the evidence before the court, it was "clear that there was an attempt to clean the room" ... . The evidence of attempts to clean the room could be taken as independent evidence tending to support Mr. Niemi's evidence about his conversation with Mr. Hurley. In turn, Mr. Niemi's evidence supported the Crown's case that Mr. Hurley had not only been there, but also that he was the killer. Thus anything that tended to rebut the room cleaning theory tended to weaken the independent evidence that could be seen as supporting Mr. Niemi's version of the conversation with Mr. Hurley and, consequently, weakened the Crown's circumstantial case."

There was fresh evidence concerning the finding of Mr Hurley's DNA at the crime scene – this evidence was not available to the Court of Appeal – and the Supreme Court ordered a new trial. This evidence made it unnecessary for the Court to address the seriousness of criticism of the trial judge's Vetrovec warning, which was that the jury had not been told sufficiently why they might have reservations about the credibility of the cell mate's evidence of the accused's confession.

Hurley brings into focus the need for precision as to what evidence is capable of supporting, or undermining, the reliability of the contested evidence. Whereas in Morgan the New Zealand court majority judgment was imprecise on this (and precision would have revealed that there was no such supporting evidence), in Hurley the Canadian court highlights the supposedly supportive evidence and concludes that a second jury might not think it was as strong, in the light of the fresh evidence, as it had seemed.

Confidentiality and clear decision modelling

Anyone interested in claims to privilege by the media, especially claims in resistance to the execution of search warrants, will need to read R v National Post
[2010] SCC 16 (7 May 2010).

I mention it here only in passing, for it would otherwise require lengthy exposition. The point that will attract the attention of readers familiar with R v Grant and the questionable application of that decision in R v Harrison (see my blogs for 18.7.09, and 19.7.09) is the two-dimensional nature of the conceptual model used in National Post, in contrast to the three dimensional model suggested in Grant.

Grant concerned the admissibility of improperly obtained evidence, and there is an obvious analogy between that and the issue in National Post. The link is whether seizure of the contested evidence would be improper and the consequences if it was.

National Post adopts the Wigmore criteria for deciding whether a claim to privilege should be permitted:

"[53] The "Wigmore criteria" consist of four elements which may be expressed for present purposes as follows. First, the communication must originate in a confidence that the identity of the informant will not be disclosed. Second, the confidence must be essential to the relationship in which the communication arises. Third, the relationship must be one which should be "sedulously fostered" in the public good ("Sedulous[ly]" being defined in the New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary on Historical Principles (6th ed. 2007), vol. 2, at p. 2755, as "diligent[ly] . . . deliberately and consciously."). Finally, if all of these requirements are met, the court must consider whether in the instant case the public interest served by protecting the identity of the informant from disclosure outweighs the public interest in getting at the truth. See Wigmore on Evidence (McNaughton Rev. 1961), vol. 8, at § 2285; Sopinka, Lederman and Bryant: The Law of Evidence in Canada (3rd ed. 2009), at paras. 14.19 et seq.; D. M. Paciocco and L. Stuesser, The Law of Evidence (3rd ed. 2002), at pp. 163-67. Further, as Lamer C.J. commented in Gruenke:    

"This is not to say that the Wigmore criteria are now "carved in stone", but rather that these considerations provide a general framework within which policy considerations and the requirements of fact-finding can be weighed and balanced on the basis of their relative importance in the particular case before the court. [p. 290]""

The fourth step is the weighing exercise that here is two-dimensional: the two public interests are weighed against each other.

"[58] The fourth Wigmore criterion does most of the work. Having established the value to the public of the relationship in question, the court must weigh against its protection any countervailing public interest such as the investigation of a particular crime (or national security, or public safety or some other public good)."

...

"[61] The weighing up will include (but of course is not restricted to) the nature and seriousness of the offence under investigation, and the probative value of the evidence sought to be obtained, measured against the public interest in respecting the journalist's promise of confidentiality. ...".

Notable here, where we are thinking of an analogy with the balancing involved in deciding the admissibility of improperly obtained evidence, is the linking of seriousness of the offence and the probative value of the evidence. Those are matters that could properly be imagined as belonging on a y-axis. Against them is the public interest against admission, and in the context of improperly obtained evidence this would be measured on an x-axis. These two axes would indicate two boundaries of a field of balance points, and the field would be divided, in a way reflecting policy, into areas of admission and exclusion.

This is a conceptually clear model, and avoidance of any suggestion of three-armed balances is welcome. The Grant model presented the difficulty of regarding as a third arm of the balance the impact of the impropriety on the accused; instead of seeing this as a third arm, it would be better to combine it with the "seriousness of the impropriety" arm, or to separate it out as a prerequisite to getting to the balancing stage in a way akin to the role of the first three of the Wigmore factors.

Beware! Teachers may even now be preparing their "compare and contrast" exam questions.

Stairway to heaven?

Disagreement over whether sufficient reasons had been given for a judge-alone decision occurred in the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Szczerbaniwicz [2010] SCC 15 (6 May 2010). The Court had given guidance on sufficient explanation for judge-alone decisions in R v REM (blogged here 3.10.08).

To prevent his wife from damaging his Masters diploma which had been hanging on the wall of a stairway, the appellant (let's call him D) pushed her. She fell on the stairs and received bruising.

D relied on the justified use of force in defence of his property: s 39(1) Criminal Code:

"39. (1) Every one who is in peaceable possession of personal property under a claim of right, and every one acting under his authority, is protected from criminal responsibility for defending that possession, even against a person entitled by law to possession of it, if he uses no more force than is necessary."

This was held to import a requirement of reasonableness (majority per Abella J para 17; minority per Binnie J para 29, 33). The prosecution must prove D did not use reasonable force and that he did not believe on reasonable grounds that he was using reasonable force.

The minority (Binnie and Fish JJ) did not suggest that the verdict had been wrong, but held that sufficient reasons for it had not been given. Of concern was absence of explanation for how the pushing or shoving was itself an excessive amount of force, either objectively or subjectively (para 26, quoting the dissenting judge in the court below). Yes, the wife fell on the stairs and received bruising, but it is wrong to reason backwards by saying that because the injuries were serious the force used was excessive (para 39). Also, it was wrong to rely on D's apparent admission that he had overreacted, because he may have lost his self-control but still used reasonable force (para 40). D can't be expected to "weigh to a nicety" the amount of force needed in a quick response situation (para 35). The fact findings were unclear as to where the diploma was when D pushed his wife, so one could not say "why" the judge concluded the force used was unreasonable (para 43).

It helps in this sort of case to return to basics and separate the actus reus and the mens rea components of the offence in the light of the claimed defence. The actus reus is the use of unreasonable force. The only evidence of unreasonableness was the injuries. They resulted from the victim's loss of balance on the stairway, so the actus reus question is whether the force used, being sufficient to cause loss of balance, was reasonable. Only if the actus reus component is satisfied do we need to consider the mens rea component. The mens rea component is either knowing that the force used was unreasonable, or unreasonably thinking it was reasonable. Those issues would require fact findings on, for actus reus, the nature of the stairway (steepness, length, availability of handrails) and the likelihood of the victim losing her balance (which way was she facing and leaning compared to the direction of the push, what was she doing at the moment she was pushed, did she have any warning, should she have foreseen the danger?), and for mens rea, what risk to his property did D reasonably apprehend – where was the diploma and what was about to happen to it, what alternative course should he reasonably have been aware of – would she have stopped if warned, what risk of injury to his wife should he reasonably have foreseen – what force did D intend to use and what was his purpose in using it?

The majority found the trial judge's decision to be "eminently justified" (para 23), stressing the finding that D had lost his temper.

This is one of those cases where the correct verdict may well have been arrived at, and the SCC majority's judgment would, on its face, appear routine, but where closer analysis by the dissenters leaves us in some doubt as to the rigor with which R v REM has been applied.

Liability in international criminal law – exclusion from refugee status

International criminal law may contain wider complicity provisions than exist in domestic law. Different standards for decision making can also exist. These points are illustrated by JS(Sri Lanka) v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2010] UKSC 15 (17 March 2010).

"serious reasons for considering", Lord Brown, with whom the other Justices agreed, held (para 39)"

"...obviously imports a higher test ... than would, say, an expression like "reasonable grounds for suspecting". "Considering" approximates rather to "believing" than to "suspecting". I am inclined to agree with what Sedley LJ said in Yasser Al-Sirri v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2009] EWCA Civ 222, para 33: "[the phrase used] sets a standard above mere suspicion. Beyond this, it is a mistake to try to paraphrase the straightforward language of the Convention: it has to be treated as meaning what it says."

The Convention under consideration here, the Refugee Convention, excludes from refugee status any one in respect of whom (Art 1F(a)):

"there are serious reasons for considering that (a) he has committed a crime against peace, a war crime, or a crime against humanity, as defined in the international instruments drawn up to make provision in respect of such crimes".

The focus here is on the acts of the applicant for refugee status. The Court stressed that mere membership of an organisation that commits war crimes is not enough to establish serious reasons for considering that he has committed such crimes.

The wide definition of complicity in international law must be applied, and here Articles 12(3) and 25(3) of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court were relevant. In summary (38), extended complicity here includes

" ... wider concepts of common design, such as the accomplishment of an organisation's purpose by whatever means are necessary including the commission of war crimes. Put simply, I would hold an accused disqualified under article 1F if there are serious reasons for considering him voluntarily to have contributed in a significant way to the organisation's ability to pursue its purpose of committing war crimes, aware that his assistance will in fact further that purpose."

The Court held that it is wrong to try to place the relevant organisation at some point on a continuum ranging from the (in my terms) relatively benign to the relatively malevolent, as was done in Gurung v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2003] Imm AR 115. There are (32) too many variable factors in war crimes cases, and the proposed continuum included irrelevant considerations:

" ... Whether the organisation in question is promoting government which would be "authoritarian in character" or is intent on establishing "a parliamentary, democratic mode of government" is quite simply nothing to the point in deciding whether or not somebody is guilty of war crimes. War crimes are war crimes however benevolent and estimable may be the long-term aims of those concerned. And actions which would not otherwise constitute war crimes do not become so merely because they are taken pursuant to policies abhorrent to western liberal democracies."

Instead, the focus is on what the individual applicant for refugee status actually did and actually believed.

This leads me to the question (in criminal law, including the law of evidence) of when conceptual modelling may appropriately involve the use of a continuum in analysis. One can imagine that a Canadian court might have been tempted to apply a "decision tree" type of approach to classifying terrorist organisations, by analogy to its approach in the unrelated field of improperly obtained evidence in R v Grant, discussed here on 18 July 2009 (twice) and on 19 July 2009. That case came down to what I think is one-dimensional (linear) continuum analysis. Continua in two dimensions can assist in admissibility decisions where the degree of official impropriety must be balanced against the public interest in admitting improperly obtained evidence. In rare cases the actus reus may be held to exist after a balancing of rights, for example disorderly behaviour: Brooker v R, discussed here on 4 May 2007. But in cases like JS(Sri Lanka) the focus on the applicant's acts and beliefs makes weighing inappropriate. Either there is an actus reus and mens rea, or there is not. They are either established to the necessary standard or they are not. There are no variables to measure and weigh against each other.

Fundamentals of secondary liability and wilful blindness

A useful reminder of the meanings of aiding, abetting, and wilful blindness has been given by the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Briscoe [2010] SCC 13 (8 April 2010). Charron J, for the Court, noted that the actus reus of aiding is assisting or helping the principal offender, and abetting is encouraging, instigating, promoting or procuring the commission of the offence (para 14).

The definition of secondary liability in s 21(1)(b) and (c) of the Criminal Code will be familiar everywhere:

"21. (1) Every one is a party to an offence who

(a) actually commits it;

(b) does or omits to do anything for the purpose of aiding any person to commit it; or

(c) abets any person in committing it."

The mens rea element has two components: purpose or intention of assisting (which does not require a desire that the offence should be committed), and knowledge of the principal offender's intention to commit the offence (para 16, 17).

In some jurisdictions inciting, counselling, and procuring are included with aiding and abetting, but in Canada counselling is dealt with in s 22 of the Code and is defined there to include procuring, soliciting or inciting.

Wilful blindness is a substitute for actual knowledge. It is not the same as recklessness. It is a subjective state of mind: seeing the need for further inquiries but deliberately choosing not to make them. Wilful blindness could more aptly be called "deliberate ignorance" (para 20, 21, 24).

The Court in Briscoe approved Glanville Williams's description, in Criminal Law: The General Part (2nd ed, 1961) at p 159, of wilful blindness being equivalent to knowledge. This could be a little confusing, because if it is equivalent to knowledge, and if recklessness is the unreasonable taking of a known risk, then wilful blindness should constitute the knowledge required for recklessness. We are left clear on what wilful blindness is, but confused about why its distinction from recklessness is important. Williams was, as the passsage quoted at para 23 of Briscoe makes clear, concerned to distinguish wilful blindness from civil negligence (in relation to the failure to perceive what a reasonable person would have perceived). A negligent failure to be suspicious could not amount to wilful blindness, but - I suggest - recklessness involves an actual suspicion and could be wilful blindness. Acting in the face of a suspicion is not far removed from acting while not wanting to know if the suspicion is true.

These considerations prompt us to ask whether the mens rea for a secondary party should necessarily be stricter than that for a principal offender. However, no new law was established in Briscoe. The alleged secondary party had to know that the principal had the necessary state of mind to be guilty of the offence, and here the trial judge should have considered whether Mr Briscoe had been wilfully blind so as to have this knowledge imputed to him. The appeal was dismissed, so that the Court of Appeal's order for a retrial stood.

Notional even-handedness?

Who can more easily adduce hearsay evidence – the prosecution or the defence? Or are they equal?

In Morgan v R (criticised here recently) the majority of the Supreme Court held that the Crown could adduce evidence that the accused when in a cell had confessed to his cell-mate who was now a hostile witness. This hostility was the route through which the evidence came in, but in reality the position was the same as if a reliable witness had been called to say that the cell-mate had previously said that the accused had confessed. This is, in effect, like the use of a "notional witness" who gives hearsay evidence.

One would think, by analogy, that the defence could call a reliable witness to say that another person – not the present accused - had confessed. But in R v Key [2010] NZCA 115 (31 March 2010) the Court of Appeal refused to allow the defence to ask a police officer whether he had made a note of his conversation with the mother of a witness, who said that the witness had confessed to her. The witness in evidence had denied making such a confession to his mother, and the mother was not available to testify. The reason the evidence from the police officer was not admissible was because there was insufficient assurance of reliability as is required by s 18(1)(a) Evidence Act 2006.

It seems odd that there was insufficient assurance of reliability where (1) a mother told the police what her son had said; (2) where the son had spoken against self-interest; (3) where a police officer investigating the case noted the conversation. Where were the sources of error in these against-interest communications? Furthermore, in contrast to Morgan, in Key the confession contained information that only a guilty person would know and that was corroborated by other witnesses.

I was not involved in either case, and it may be that on careful scrutiny of the evidence Key can be justified. But these are the sorts of cases that make observers most anxious about the even-handedness of the application of the law.

Slaves to the system?

For refusal of counsel's application for leave to withdraw from acting, see R v Cunningham [2010] SCC 10 (26 March 2006).

Current purpose or original meaning: interpreting the US Constitution

Justices Breyer and Scalia debate Constitutional interpretation! Video clip available here.

Possession and internet files

The meaning of possession of electronic files has been established by the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Morelli [2010] SCC 8. This case concerned allegedly pornographic internet files. Central to the requirements for possession is the concept of control.

The Court split 4-3. The minority made much more use of case law than did the majority, and the majority relied more on fundamental principles. The majority held that knowledge is a requirement for control, and that control is not constituted by the mere viewing of an internet file. Control requires knowingly acquiring the underlying data file and storing it in a place within one's control. The mere automatic caching of an internet file does not of itself amount to storing it unless that caching occurred with knowledge that the file was retained.

The minority regarded control as existing when the accused willingly took or maintained the use or benefit of the material, so that it did not need to be on his computer's hard drive.

In this case a search warrant had been obtained without sufficient grounds (as held by the majority) and the evidence had been obtained improperly. Applying R v Grant [2009] SCC 32 the majority held the evidence to be inadmissible.

Evidence of fingerprint matches

For an interesting article on how fingerprint evidence should be given, see New Scientist, 22 March 2010 , "Fingerprint evidence to harden up at last" by Linda Geddes.

The Waihopai spy base case

In this site, which is aimed at the decisions of leading appellate courts, I do not usually comment on trials. However, today our little nation is abuzz with discussion of the implications of what the media call the Waihopai spy base case.

Some people damaged some big plastic domes that cover secret communications facilities. I am vague on this description, but for me the most interesting thing about this case is the revelation that the big white domes can be slashed with a knife to expose the underlying things. Aerials and whatnot. The people were put on trial and yesterday were acquitted by a jury of offences like burglary and wilful damage.

What was their defence? That is not really the point. What matters is that a jury decided the case, and acquitted when a judge almost certainly would have convicted.

The case illustrates the role of juries in bringing community standards to the law. The common law's origin is the customs of the realm, and those customs were based on what people thought was reasonable. If the community thought that what a person believed and what he did were reasonable, then he would not be held to be acting illegally. You can apply the same criteria today to the criminal law. Although offences are now statutory, their definitions will always - except for some minor offences of absolute liability - be such as to permit acquittal of people who have held reasonable beliefs and who have acted reasonably in pursuit of those beliefs. Sometimes the law is more generous, allowing a defence if the belief was unreasonably held as long as it was honestly held (for example, self defence).

The best arbiter of what a community believes to be reasonable is a jury. This is recognised by courts (see the discussion by Heydon J in AK v Western Australia [2008] HCA 8 at paras 90-98) and by law reform bodies (see the New Zealand Law Commission report "Juries in Criminal Trials" para 78). There are limits to the extent to which juries should be admired (as I have suggested). Even so, if you say the jury was wrong in this case, you have to show that community values are such that what the defendants did was, in the context of what they reasonably believed, unreasonable.