Bias and expertise

At common law the absence of bias includes the absence of the appearance of bias. Consequently, a tribunal may be impugned for bias without actual bias needing to be proved, and its decision quashed without any aspersion being cast.

This happened in R v Secretary of State for the Home Department, ex parte Al-Hasan [2005] UKHL 13 (16 February 2005). Proceedings were quashed because the common law test was satisfied (para 37); in summary, this amounts to asking whether a fair-minded observer would think there was a real possibility that the tribunal had been predisposed, that it lacked impartiality, that it may have been improperly influenced. An honest doubt about this, entertained by the fair-minded observer, is sufficient, even if the doubt is unfounded.

In that case a prison official (deputy governor) presided over a disciplinary hearing in which the validity of an order promulgated by the prison governor was challenged. When the order had been formulated, the official had been present and had implicitly agreed to it. It was therefore unlikely that he would hold that the order was invalid. The House of Lords stressed that there was no suggestion that in presiding over the hearing he had intentionally acted wrongly.

Baroness Hale, para 16, concluded

"…Giving the order and deciding upon its lawfulness could have been more clearly separated.
… however professional the Deputy Governor was in his approach to his task, a fair-minded and informed observer would conclude that there was a real possibility that he would be pre-disposed to uphold the legality of the order."

Plainly, a line had to be drawn between this unacceptable overlap of functions (participating in promulgating a rule and subsequently deciding on its lawfulness), and the position of judges, who often have extra-judicial experience involving the expressing of views on the appropriateness of legislation, or even proposing law reforms which are later enacted. Lord Rodger addressed this issue, para 9, concluding:

"The knowledge and expertise developed in these ways can only help, not hinder, their judicial work."

And adding, para 10:

"Judges have not infrequently been party to decisions overruling their own previous decisions."

As an example, Lord Rodger referred to (also para 10):

"In In re S (Minors) (Care Order: Implementation of Care Plan) [2002] 2 AC 291, Lord Mackay of Clashfern took part in a decision in which the House struck down a system adopted by a local authority for "starring" the essential milestones of their care plan adopted under the Children Act 1989. The appeal turned on identifying a cardinal principle of the Act - a piece of legislation for which Lord Mackay, as Lord Chancellor, had been the lead minister when the Bill was going through this House in its legislative capacity. More than that, as he explained, at p 327, para 108, he had actually given a lecture in which he suggested the idea of starring stages. At the beginning of the appeal, however, he informed counsel of this and they did not object to his sitting. So any question of apparent bias was resolved. Again, since Lord Mackay agreed with the decision to disapprove the starring system, the informed and fair-minded observer would have seen that he was well able to judge the matter independently and impartially when called upon to do so."

Thus Lord Rodger recognises that judges can be vulnerable to giving the fair-minded observer an impression of bias, and the way of overcoming that is to inform counsel of potentially embarrassing matters at the beginning of the hearing and to invite objection to their continued sitting.

Lord Brown, delivering the leading speech in Al-Hasan, referred to the common law test for bias (para 30):

"The common law test for bias has been authoritatively settled by the recent decisions of this House in Porter v Magill [2002] 2 AC 357 and Lawal v Northern Spirit Ltd [2004] 1 All ER 187:
"The question is whether the fair-minded and informed observer, having considered the relevant facts, would conclude that there was a real possibility that the tribunal was biased".

The correct procedure was (para 41):

"… to have avoided the appearance of bias [the deputy governor] would either have had to make plain at the adjudications that he himself had actually been present when the squat search order was confirmed (rather than give the impression, as he appears to have done, that he had known nothing of it) and sought the prisoners' consent to his nevertheless hearing the charges, or alternatively stood down to enable them to be heard by a different governor (if necessary from another prison) without any such previous involvement in the case."

Damages and breach of the right to a fair hearing

Breach of the right to a fair trial will usually be vindicated by the declaration of the appellate court that there had been a breach, and a quashing of the conviction. There may also be an order for a retrial, which, in a remote sort of way, can also be of advantage to the accused if he obtains an outright acquittal. Awards of damages for breach of fair trial rights are rare, and when made have been "noteworthy for their modesty": R v Secretary of State for the Home Department, ex parte Greenfield [2005] UKHL 14 (16 February 2005), per Lord Bingham at para 17, in a judgment with which the other members of the House concurred.

Special damages may be awarded where a causal connection can be shown between the breach of the right to a fair trial and a loss for which compensation is claimed (para 11), and general damages can arise in rare cases where it can be shown that the applicant has been deprived of a real chance of a better outcome (para 14), or where there has been physical or mental suffering attributable to the breach of the right (para 16).

Where damages are appropriate, should domestic courts apply domestic scales of awards, or should they follow international law precedents? In Greenfield, the position was governed by the statutory relationship between the domestic courts and the Strasbourg court. Some points considered material by Lord Bingham at para 19 of Greenfield suggest analogous questions that may usefully be asked on this issue:

• (1) is the relevant rights legislation a torts statute?
• (2) has the rights statute been enacted with a view to giving remedies that improve on those at common law?
• (3) is there any legislative direction concerning the relevance of international awards of damages?

In Greenfield, it was accepted by the respondent that, in the light of a decision of the European Court that had been given after the lower courts’ decisions in this case, there had been breaches of the right to a fair hearing because the tribunal (a deputy controller determining an allegation of breach of prison rules) was not independent or impartial, and because the applicant had been denied legal representation notwithstanding that he had a lawyer who was available to act. Nevertheless, the House of Lords found that the hearing appeared to have been conducted in an exemplary way, and it would not speculate as to whether legal representation would have made a difference to the outcome. There was, furthermore, nothing special in the case that warranted special damages for anxiety or frustration. Damages were declined but declarations of the breaches of the fair trial rights were made. Costs were reserved for further submission.

Obviously, these declarations will result in improved procedures for other people charged with breaches of prison discipline. It seems, however, that Mr Greenfield had an additional 21 days of imprisonment added to his sentence in circumstances where a conviction would have been quashed if he had been subject to the jurisdiction of the criminal court. This case is a special example of the general difficulties that people who successfully appeal convictions face in obtaining a remedy for such sentences as they may have served.

Jury secrecy

To what extent, really, is the law applied in the jury room? The almost impenetrable veil of secrecy behind which jury deliberations are conducted prevents exposure of such injustice as may occur. The law deems the secrecy to be worth that price.

A glimpse into what jurors can get up to is given in R v Smith (No 2) [2005] UKHL 12 (16 February 2005), at para 11. The remedy, quashing the convictions and potentially ordering a retrial, fits the particular case, but it was only possible because one juror was concerned enough to write to the judge during the deliberations.

There is a case for observing jury deliberations, for example, by closed circuit television monitoring, to ensure no errors are made in the application of the law. Of course issues of juror anonymity and appropriate intervention would arise, as would problems of catering for unrepresented accused persons.

How much honesty can the system cope with?

Miscarriage of justice, or inconsequential error?

When can an appellate court hold that, notwithstanding an error at trial, conviction of the accused was not a miscarriage of justice?

The difficulties in deciding this issue are illustrated by the 3-2 split in the Privy Council decision Dial v The State (Trinidad and Tobago) [2005] UKPC 4 (14 February 2005). The appellants were seeking to overturn convictions in respect of which they had been sentenced to death.

I have, in the last entry on this blog, pointed out that the implications of there being no power to direct juries to convict (R v Wang [2005] UKHL 9, 10 February 2005), have some relevance to this issue. Wang emphasised the fundamental point that at trial, it is the jury that carries out the function of applying the law to the facts. But from the perspective of a court of first appeal, the view is slightly different. Where there is a second appeal, the court’s function may again be seen differently.

The majority in Dial described the approach of a court of first appeal as follows (para 42):

"…the question arising for the Appeal Court's determination is whether [new evidence, or an error at trial] realistically places the appellant's guilt in reasonable doubt - whether, in other words, the verdict is now to be regarded as unsafe. That necessarily must depend upon all the evidence in the case." [emphasis in the judgment]

On second appeal, the court looks at whether the first appellate court considered the relevant matters and whether it was accordingly entitled to reach the conclusion it did. While the majority in Dial (Lords Bingham, Carswell and Brown in a joint judgment) held that the appellate court’s conclusion should be sustained, the minority (Lords Steyn and Hutton in separate judgments) disagreed. Lord Steyn (para 54) held:

"Nowhere in … the judgment, does the Chief Justice [of Trinidad and Tobago] pause to consider how the jury (or a reasonable person circumstanced as the jury were) would have viewed the potential impact of the [fresh evidence]. That was an issue which the Court of Appeal as a matter of legal principle should have squarely faced. The Court of Appeal did not do so. It is a fundamental flaw in the judgment. In these circumstances it is not appropriate to defer to the Court of Appeal as the court who heard the new evidence."

Lord Steyn concluded with a caution for appellate courts:

"64. It is always important for a judge to bear in mind what Justice Learned Hand in his famous address during the Second World War, in Central Park, New York City, called the spirit of liberty. He said that the spirit of liberty is the spirit which is not too sure that it is right. The need for such an approach is immeasurably increased where the issue at stake is killing a man by the cruel and barbaric punishment of the death penalty. This spirit is not evident in the judgment of the Chief Justice. Instead his judgment is expressed in certainties and absolutes with some questionable and speculative assumptions in favour of the state."

Lord Hutton, also dissenting, referred to the law on how the court of first appeal should approach the matter:

"74. In R v Pendleton, at para 19, [2002] 1 WLR 72 the House of Lords affirmed that the guiding principle is that stated by Viscount Dilhorne in Stafford v Director of Public Prosecutions [1974] AC 878 at 906:
"While … the Court of Appeal and this House may find it a convenient approach to consider what a jury might have done if they had heard the fresh evidence, the ultimate responsibility rests with them and them alone for deciding the question [whether or not the verdict is unsafe]."
"In R v Pendleton, at para 19, Lord Bingham of Cornhill stated:
"The Court of Appeal can make its assessment of the fresh evidence it has heard, but save in a clear case it is at a disadvantage in seeking to relate that evidence to the rest of the evidence which the jury heard. For these reasons it will usually be wise for the Court of Appeal, in a case of any difficulty, to test their own provisional view by asking whether the evidence, if given at the trial, might reasonably have affected the decision of the trial jury to convict. If it might, the conviction must be thought to be unsafe." "

This reflects the inevitable distance of the appellate courts from the witness box. Furthermore, as evidence is recounted and digested on appeal, errors may creep into the narrative. Lord Steyn, at para 63, points out how the majority apparently allowed this to happen in their reliance on prosecution evidence which had not, in fact, been given. "The reliance on this factor in the majority judgment is unjustified and a failure of due process."

When the court of second appeal finds an error of reasoning in the court of first appeal, the court of second appeal carries out the exercise as it should, in its view, have been done. We can only guess what the majority in Dial would have concluded had it found an error in the court below, and had the majority not (assuming Lord Steyn’s due process criticism is correct) made a mistake about the extent of the prosecution evidence.

There are lessons to be learnt from Dial, and they include the danger of an appellate court being dogmatic about the facts of the case. An analogy that I suggest is useful is with the approach that a trial judge takes to submissions of "no case": R v Flyger [2001] 2 NZLR 721; (2000) 18 CRNZ 624 (CA). This, of course, is only an analogy in a loose sense, calling for lateral thinking rather than direct transposition of concepts. The question on a no case submission is whether there is evidence which, if accepted, would be sufficient to support a conviction. This might be transformed into an appropriate question on appeal where miscarriage of justice is in issue: if the error had not occurred at trial (or, as the case may be, if the fresh evidence had been available), could there have been stronger grounds for acquitting the accused than there had been at the flawed trial?

"Applying" the law

A judge may not in any circumstances direct a jury to find an accused person guilty: R v Wang [2005] UKHL 9 (10 February 2005).

This is so even where the defence had the burden of raising a defence and had failed to discharge that burden, and also where the facts are agreed at trial and there is nothing calling for adjudication and there is no basis upon which the accused can properly avoid conviction on the uncontested facts. The Crown’s argument that in these circumstances a directed guilty verdict would be acceptable (para 2) was rejected in the considered opinion of the Appellate Committee in Wang.

This does not affect certain recognised areas: the power of a judge to direct an acquittal; the power of a judge to withdraw a defence from the jury’s consideration if there is no evidence whatever to support it; and the absence of any requirement for the judge to direct the jury on issues not raised by the defence. See Wang, para 3.

At root is the fundamental distinction between the functions of the judge and the jury. In particular, it is the jury that applies the law to the facts. The judge does not apply the law to the facts. This process of "applying" is critical. It amounts to a constitutional check on the powers of the executive. The Committee cited remarks by (the then) Sir Patrick Devlin, writing in 1956, who said (Hamlyn Lectures, "Trial by Jury", pp 160, 162), that the leaving of the last word to the jury was

"an insurance that the criminal law will conform to the ordinary man's idea of what is fair and just. If it does not, the jury will not be a party to its enforcement …. The executive knows that in dealing with the liberty of the subject it must not do anything which would seriously disturb the conscience of the average member of Parliament or of the average juryman. I know of no other real checks that exist today upon the power of the executive."

Acknowledgement of this fundamental principle will require some revision of the standard way of directing juries. The judge usually tells the jury that if they find certain facts proved beyond reasonable doubt, then their verdict must be guilty. That is contrary to Wang. What the jury have to be told is that their task is to apply the law, the ingredients of the offence as set out by the judge, to the facts that they find proved beyond reasonable doubt in deciding whether they find the accused guilty. Further elaboration is not necessary, and in particular it would be wrong to tell the jury that they are free to find the accused not guilty even if they are sure the prosecution has proved its case.

Even where the result of applying the law to the facts would appear to be a foregone conclusion, there may nevertheless be "nuances (to adopt the language of Lord Keith in DPP v Stonehouse [1978] AC 55) not recognised by the judicial mind." (Wang, para 17.)

This calls to mind the problem of when an appellate court may properly hold that, notwithstanding some error of law at trial, there was no miscarriage of justice because the accused was not deprived of a real chance of acquittal. A particularly intriguing example is R v Howse [2003] 3 NZLR 767 (CA). Another is R v Bain [2004] 1 NZLR 638 (CA). Both these cases are subject to Privy Council consideration.

Collateral evidence: rule or discretion?

In contrast to revising hearsay laws that have been considered by the legislature and by the Law Commission, as was done by the House of Lords in R v Hayter - see my blog entry for Monday, February 07, 2005 - the High Court of Australia has resisted an invitation to alter the law. In Nicholls v R [2005] HCA 1 (3 February 2005), a case where the circumstances would have made any such revision obiter, one of the issues involved the collateral evidence rule.

The rule that answers to questions on collateral issues cannot be undermined by cross-examination is potentially a source of injustice if insufficient recognition is given to the exception concerning challenges to the creditworthiness of the witness. How relevant is it that the witness may have been unreliable on matters collateral to the issues at trial? This is obviously an area that should be treated as discretionary, rather than one for the application of rules.

Judges often have to decide between the alternatives of excluding evidence and admitting it, perhaps subject to a warning to the jury about the use to which such evidence may be put. I have discussed this in "The Duty to Prevent an Abuse of Process by Staying Criminal Proceedings" in Robertson (ed), "Essays on Criminal Law: A Tribute to Professor Gerald Orchard" (2004, Brookers Ltd, Wellington) 133. As I pointed out there, such decisions involve the balancing of the probative value of evidence against its prejudicial effect.

Readers who seek more agony may wish to consult my "Probative value, illegitimate prejudice and the accused’s right to a fair trial" (2005) 29 Crim LJ 8, where the balancing exercise involved in this sort of decision is analysed, and it is suggested (I summarise the suggestion) that the decision comes down to admitting evidence if it has significant probative value and if trial fairness would not be compromised.

This would be a satisfactory way of approaching the admissibility of challenges to answers to questions on collateral issues. Of course we are considering something analogous to the other side of the coin because what is usually at stake when the probative/prejudicial exercise is undertaken is the admissibility of prosecution evidence. Usually the collateral evidence rule affects evidence that the defence seeks to adduce, albeit through a prosecution witness. Looking at the decision from this perspective, the first consideration would be: would the evidence be probative on the issue of the witness’s reliability on a matter in dispute in the case? The second consideration would be, would preventing the defence from seeking the evidence affect the fairness of the trial? We can easily see that these come to much the same thing. That is acceptable, because we are not balancing them against each other.

In Nicholls v R at para 53, McHugh J, who would have changed the collateral evidence rule, put it this way:
"… Where the interests of justice are likely to be advanced by admitting evidence tending to destroy the credibility of a witness, courts should hesitate to reject such evidence. Thus, where a circumstance affecting credibility is so inextricably connected with a fact in issue that it will probably determine that fact, a trial judge should generally admit evidence of that circumstance. Evidence of such a circumstance should not be excluded merely because it is not within the established exceptions to the collateral evidence rule. In Natta (1991) 32 FCR 282 at 300 the Full Federal Court concluded that a collateral matter could be pursued beyond cross-examination "in the interests of justice, whether or not it came within any of the traditional exceptions to the rule against evidence on collateral issues."

Principled evolution, or more mental gymnastics?

Funnily enough, the same day as the High Court of Australia heard the phrase "mental gymnastics" used by one of its Judges (Kamleh v R [2005] HCA 2 (3 February 2005) per Kirby J; see my blog entry for Friday, February 04, 2005), Lord Carswell in the House of Lords used the same expression: R v Hayter [2005] UKHL 6 (3 February, 2005).

The fundamental tussle in Hayter was over whether the House of Lords should judicially change the law relating to hearsay, when both the Law Commission and Parliament had not. By a majority of 3-2 the law was changed. Lords Brown and Carswell dissented.

Two aspects of Hayter are of interest here. First, should a judge, faced with a no-case submission at the close of the prosecution case in a joint jury trial, be permitted to make a provisional ruling to the effect that there is a case against one accused if and only if the jury convicts another accused? Second, should the fact of one accused’s guilt, proved by his confession in the absence of the other accused, be able to be used as evidence against that other accused? Because the second of these questions was answered "yes", the first question disappeared as an issue, as the confession became evidence against the other accused thus constituting the case to answer.

An important limitation to the scope of this change in the law was specified: the confession by one accused (in the absence of the other) is only evidence against the other to the extent that it was made against the self-interest of the confessor; it is not evidence against the other accused to the extent that it asserts the guilt of that other accused. This recognises the basis upon which the confession can be assumed to be reliable.

It should also be remembered that this new exception to the hearsay rule only comes into play when the confession of one accused is relevant to the guilt of another.

This is, no doubt, a sensible development. Lord Steyn, at para 25, called it a "a principled evolution in keeping with modern developments, statutory and judge made, which corrected some of the worst absurdities of the law of evidence of a bygone era." He likened it, unconvincingly, to the joint enterprise exception to the hearsay rule. I say "unconvincingly" because the confession was not in furtherance of the pursuit of the common enterprise on the facts of Hayter, and the analogy is potentially confusing. The "in furtherance" requirement is what gives the statement its apparent reliability in joint enterprise cases, and a foundation in reliability is essential to the "principled evolution" of which Lord Steyn speaks.

The mental gymnastics that concerned Lord Carswell, at para 73, arose on the assumption that the hearsay rule remained unchanged, so that the jury would use the contents of the statement only against its maker, yet the guilt of that person, but not the contents of his confession, could be used against the other accused. However, on the law as changed by the majority, gymnastics are still required when a statement has elements of confession together with elements of accusation against the co-accused. In such cases, the confessional aspects are now admissible against the co-accused, but not (as has always been the case, except where the joint enterprise exception applies) the accusatory elements. Such gymnastics are not all that difficult.

In summary, it seems that the proposed limits of the new rule are:

• joint trial
• the confessing accused must be guilty for it to be possible that the other can be convicted
• only confessional evidence against self-interest is admissible against the other accused, for example to explain circumstantial evidence

However, when one remembers that the rules against hearsay were developed to guard against unreliable evidence, the appropriateness of these limits is difficult to justify once it is accepted that the against-interest confession is reliable. There is a likelihood that Hayter will encourage a shift towards reliability as the criterion for admissibility.

Accepting the appropriateness of this development of the hearsay rule, we may nevertheless have some doubts about suggestions that Lord Steyn made about the first question referred to here: the no-case ruling. In remarks that seem to have been intended to be of general application, at para 28, he said that the dynamics of a criminal trial may require that rulings of a conditional nature be given. This is correct, to an extent, as far as the example he gave is concerned: the confronting of the accused with accusations that he does not forthrightly deny. There may be situations where the judge has to let evidence of accusations be given, subject to later evidence that he did not deny them; but this, in the context of jury trials, is a little unlikely, as the judge will have the depositions and will already know whether the accused denied such accusations. Lord Steyn thought these situations to be analogous to that of the no-case submission at the end of the prosecution case. Plainly, the situations are completely different. To suggest otherwise is to diminish the significance of the closing by the prosecution of its case.

Limiting reasonable rights

Lord Steyn has, at least twice, stated that the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 ("NZBORA"), requires that legislation has to have a "reasonable" interpretation consistent with NZBORA before that meaning is to be preferred. He did this in R v A (No 2) [2002] 1 AC 45, para 44, comparing s 3 of the Human Rights Act 1998[UK] with s 6 NZBORA:

"The draftsman of the [UK] Act had before him the slightly weaker model in section 6 of the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 but preferred stronger language. Parliament specifically rejected the legislative model of requiring a reasonable interpretation."

And he did it again in Ghaidan v Godin-Mendoza [2004] UKHL 30 (21 June 2004), also, spookily, at para 44:

"…the draftsman of the [UK] Act had before him the model of the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act which imposes a requirement that the interpretation to be adopted must be reasonable. Parliament specifically rejected the legislative model of requiring a reasonable interpretation."

We note a slight difference in these quotations: the latter no longer describes s 6 of NZBORA as being "slightly weaker", and it no longer claims that the reasonable requirement is imposed by s 6. This is not, therefore, simply a cut-and-paste exercise. Nor, with respect, is it an accurate statement of the law in New Zealand.

Doubtless, the idea that there is a requirement that a meaning be reasonably open, before it can be preferred pursuant to s 6 NZBORA, comes from a cursory reading of s 5. These provisions are as follows:

5.Justified limitations—
Subject to section 4 of this Bill of Rights, the rights and freedoms contained in this Bill of Rights may be subject only to such reasonable limits prescribed by law as can be demonstrably justified in a free and democratic society.

6.Interpretation consistent with Bill of Rights to be preferred—
Wherever an enactment can be given a meaning that is consistent with the rights and freedoms contained in this Bill of Rights, that meaning shall be preferred to any other meaning.

Section 4 , to which s 5 is subject, prevents courts from holding enactments ineffective, or declining to apply them, because of their conflict with NZBORA.

Section 5 and s 6 reflect two different concerns. Section 5 addresses the characteristics of rights in any particular case, and s 6 addresses the meaning of legislation. The reasonable limits referred to in s 5 are the limits that might be imposed on the rights, and they are not, pace Lord Steyn, limits on the meaning that shall be given to enactments. Although various approaches to these sections may be viable (as was suggested in Moonen v Film and Literature Board of Review [2000] 2 NZLR 9, (1999) 17 CRNZ 159 (CA) at para 17), and academics make much of the potential obscurities, we might sensibly treat the sections in the order in which they appear in the NZBORA.

Doing that, we first consider the nature of the right and what limitations to it are raised, in the circumstances of a given case, as candidates for being called reasonable. Having identified what the scope of the right is, we then turn to s 6 and ask whether the enactment in question can be given a meaning consistent with that right. Not whether it can reasonably be given that meaning. In deciding this, we are guided, not by the so-called "intention" of the legislature, but rather by what is possible in terms of compatibility with the underlying thrust or grain of the legislation (terms used by Lord Nichols in Ghaidan, above, at para 33).

What Lord Steyn has mistakenly called a weakness in the strength of NZBORA, namely the reasonable limitation, is actually, in s 5, a reflection of limitations that are commonly imposed on rights in international law. Examples occur in the applicable law in the UK, the European Convention on Human Rights ("ECHR"). See, for example, Articles 8, 9, 10, 11. Section 5 NZBORA encompasses situations such as those, but it is also capable of including another form of limitation on rights, the power of a state to act so as to derogate from rights in times of national emergency (ECRH, Art 15). While the derogation power in Art 15 does not include all the rights expressed in the Convention, s 5 of BORA does, on its face, appear to permit wider derogation. In this sense, one might correctly say that NZBORA appears to be weaker. But whether NZBORA is saved from that weakness by the common law remains to be determined.

Hearsay and mental gymnastics

Sometimes it seems right to admit evidence that is technically inadmissible. The problem of rationalising the admission of hearsay evidence can give rise to the making of elusive distinctions. These are between the fact that a thing was said, and the truth of what is asserted in that statement. Other elusive distinctions are between reliable and unreliable hearsay, and between the reliability of evidence and what may properly be called its strength.

In Kamleh v R [2005] HCA 2 (3 February 2005) the difficulty was one of distinguishing between whether hearsay evidence was relevant because of the fact it was said, and whether it was relevant to prove the truth of what it said. In the circumstances of the case, this issue was obiter, as it was not relied on by the appellant and in any event there was no miscarriage of justice because of the overall strength of the case against the appellant.

Nevertheless, the High Court was divided over whether the evidence in question was excluded by the rule against hearsay. Gleeson CJ and McHugh J held, applying Walton v R (1989) 166 CLR 283 (HCA), that the evidence was not hearsay and was admissible, whereas the other three Judges, Kirby, Hayne and Heydon JJ, in separate judgments, expressed difficulties in accepting that Walton was correctly decided.

The evidence at issue in Kamleh was adduced by the prosecution: it was a comment made by Mr Zappia (who had been tried separately for the same two homicides and who had been convicted of manslaughter in respect of each), who was not called as a witness at the appellant’s trial. In this comment he had told a prosecution witness, a few days before the killings, that he and the appellant were going to catch up with one of the victims because he owed them something or they had something to settle with him.

The fact in issue to which this comment was relevant was the fact that the appellant and Mr Zappia had been together at the time of the killings: it showed they knew each other and had a common interest concerning the victim. The appellant did not give evidence at trial but adduced alibi evidence which the prosecution alleged was false.

Applying Walton v R, Gleeson CJ and McHugh J held that the comment was not hearsay: what a person says about his intention is original evidence. The witness to whom Mr Zappia spoke was stating his intention and the report of this was a report of original evidence.

The obvious fragility of this reasoning troubled the other judges. Kirby J was concerned (para 27) at the "feat of mental gymnastics" that was involved; Hayne J pointed out (para 33) that the difficulty lay "in identifying why the fact that an out of court assertion was made is relevant to an issue in the case except for the purpose of demonstrating the truth of the content of the assertion." Heydon J noted (para 38) that the use of such evidence to prove the carrying out of the asserted intention was "highly controversial".

Kirby J thought (para 28) this problem was becoming esoteric because Walton was overtaken by the Uniform Evidence Acts (Cth), s 72. That section provides "The hearsay rule does not apply to evidence of a representation made by a person that was a contemporaneous representation about the person’s health, feelings, sensations, intention, knowledge or state of mind." With respect, this seems to preserve the Walton position, which is that they are not hearsay, they are original evidence.

What, then, if the comment in Kamleh is correctly categorised as hearsay? In New Zealand, the position is governed by the common law acceptance of hearsay evidence that is relevant, when the primary witness is unavailable, and when it has sufficient apparent reliability, either inherent or circumstantial, to justify its admission: R v Manase [2001] 2 NZLR 197, (2001) 18 CRNZ 378 (CA). Similarly, the Evidence Bill, s 18(1)(a), proposes that hearsay evidence should be admissible if, inter alia, there is reasonable assurance that it is reliable.

The judge would, in determining the admissibility of the hearsay statement, have to assess its reliability without knowing what evidence the defence would call on the point, unless at pre-trial application or at voir dire the defence wished to reveal that. This is not a great difficulty where the defence relies on alibi, as in Kamleh, because notice of the alibi evidence has to be given to the prosecution. But, in cases where it would not be tactically prudent for the defence to reveal its case prematurely, the judge’s assessment of the reliability of the prosecution’s hearsay evidence would not be fully informed.

Defence "mode of evidence"

Equality of arms in a defended case may require special measures concerning the mode in which the accused may give his evidence. Such measures are provided for by statute in relation to child complainants in sex cases (Evidence Act 1908, ss 23C – 23H), but there are no corresponding provisions for child defendants.

In R v Camberwell Green Youth Court [2005] UKHL 4 (27 January 2005) Baroness Hale, delivering the leading speech, pointed out that the court may exercise its inherent jurisdiction to provide appropriate facilities where fairness so requires:

"[57] … the question is what, if anything, the court needs to do to ensure that the defendant is not at a substantial disadvantage compared with the prosecution and any other defendants (see Delcourt v Belgium (1970) 1 EHRR 355, para 28). That can only be judged on a case by case basis at trial and on appeal. ...

"[59] … the Court of Appeal also made it clear in R v S.H. [2003] EWCA Crim 1208, 28 March 2003 that the court has wide and flexible inherent powers to ensure that the accused receives a fair trial, and this includes a fair opportunity of giving the best evidence he can. In that case the defendant had learning and communication difficulties. The court could allow him the equivalent of an interpreter to assist with communication, a detailed written statement could be read to the jury so that they knew what he wanted to say, and he might even be asked leading questions based upon that document, all in an attempt to enable him to give a proper and coherent account.

"[60] The Strasbourg Court has also held, in V v United Kingdom (1999) 30 EHRR 121, 179, para 86 that
"it is essential that a child charged with an offence is dealt with in a manner which takes full account of his age, level of maturity and intellectual and emotional capacities, and that steps are taken to promote his ability to understand and participate in the proceedings".

"[61] The environment and procedures in the Youth Court are already designed with this in mind, although no doubt there will be a need to do more in some cases. The procedures in the Crown Court have also been modified to meet the needs of child defendants following the case of V v United Kingdom, and again more may need to be done in some cases."

A question exists about the correctness of R (S) v Waltham Forest Youth Court [2004] EWHC 715 (Admin), 31 March 2004, in which it was held that there was no inherent power to permit defence evidence by video link as Parliament had treated the subject exhaustively in its (earlier) legislation and had omitted provision for that. But as Lady Hale pointed out, para 62, whether that interpretation of the extent of the inherent power is correct remains to be determined on a suitable appeal.

The New Zealand legislation does not contain a provision that expressly leaves the inherent power of the court unaffected, but it seems unlikely that R (S) v Waltham Forest Youth Court would be followed.

Fairness and the issues

In some situations, tribunals may be given powers to make orders affecting the rights of parties without the need for an oral hearing. In applications for revocation of parole, under the applicable United Kingdom legislation, but not in many other jurisdictions, including New Zealand (Parole Act 2002, s 65(4)(a)), the Parole Board need not hear orally from the respondent or his counsel. Fairness issues may consequently arise, and they did in R v Parole Board, ex parte Smith and West [2005] UKHL 1 (27 January 2005).

Several points were made in this case:

• Whether absence of an oral hearing affects the fairness of the proceedings depends on the circumstances of each case (Lord Bingham, para 27).
• The requirement that the proceedings be fair is fundamental, and arises from the common law rather than being dependent upon the existence of the ECHR or any other Bill of Rights document (Lord Bingham, para 44; Lord Hope para 74).
• An oral hearing may be of use in more circumstances than merely those where some issue of fact has to be decided. Examples are where explanations or mitigating factors may be relevant, or new relevant facts may be brought to light (Lord Bingham, para 35).
• A risk of unfairness arises if only written submissions are permitted and consequently the respondent is not aware of what the tribunal considers important (Lord Bingham, para 35).
• A danger posed by procedures that are routinely disposed of on the papers is that assumptions will be made that are prejudicial to the respondent and in favour of the case advanced by the authorities (Lord Hope, para 66).

One significant point that will have implications for appellate procedures is the need to alert the appellant to issues that the court may consider to be important. Appellants who are unable to obtain legal representation often file written submissions for the consideration of the appellate court, and these are sometimes focused on entirely irrelevant matters. In such cases, the question arises whether the court should seek further submissions on what appears to it to be significant (to the extent that the court is able to identify what that may be; this may be impossible, especially in the absence of a transcript of the trial judge’s directions to the jury).

Similarly, where a court is hearing oral argument on a question of law, should it inform the parties of points that concern it? Occasionally, one encounters coyness from judges who are shy about showing their hand, and sometimes decisions are made on points that have not been fully addressed in argument. One might even wonder whether it is fair for courts to conclude hearings, and reserve decisions, without their being clear as to what the ultimate decision will be.

Precedent and particularity in rights balancing

There is a conflict in New Zealand law between two approaches to balancing of interests when a court decides the admissibility of wrongfully obtained evidence. The governing case, R v Shaheed [2002] 2 NZLR 377, (2002) 19 CRNZ 165 (CA), can be read as permitting a close analysis of the particular circumstances of a given case in carrying out the required balancing exercise. Alternatively, it can be read as permitting the influence of precedent to guide the analysis of the competing interests, so that the decision in each case can be less agonised than it would be if the subject were approached as if de novo. This latter approach is, it is suggested, the preferable one. However, a casual reading of a recent Court of Appeal decision might suggest support for the former alternative: R v F 16/12/04, CA351/04.

R v F includes reference to a House of Lords decision, re S (a child) [2004] 3 WLR 1129 (HL) which was mentioned in this blog on Monday November 1, 2004. The Court of Appeal in R v F at para 23 treated this as support, by analogy, for holding that competing public interests can’t be dealt with at a general level, and that close investigation of the facts and evaluation of factors is required. That approach is, no doubt, appropriate where, as in re S (a child), there was a conflict between the right (of the child, not a party to the criminal proceedings) to privacy, and the right of the news media to exercise freedom of speech. But is this approach appropriate to the Shaheed balancing exercise?

Three fundamental points support the precedent approach:

• The police are entitled to guidance from the courts as to the likely consequences, as far as the admissibility of evidence is concerned, of any of the forms of misconduct that may occur in the purported exercise of search powers.
• The accused is also entitled to know what are the prospects of success for a contemplated challenge to the admissibility of evidence. Both the prosecution and the defence are only informed by the law if decisions have precedent value.
• Precedents should help to isolate the material facts. Precedents should also guide the reasoning process. It would be wrong to interpret R v F as a call for a new beginning in each case.

Some aspects of the reasoning in R v F are, with respect, unsatisfactory. These will be considered further below, but first, it should be noted that these were all obiter, as the Court accepted the Crown’s indication that it did not seek to oppose the appeal being allowed. This indication came in response to a potentially controversial step taken by the Court before the hearing: The grounds for the stopping and search of the appellant’s car seemed rather sparse, and indeed the lower court, the High Court, had ruled that the search was illegal and unreasonable, but nevertheless under the Shaheed balancing of interests, the evidence should be admissible. The Court of Appeal, by Memorandum to the Crown, invited the Crown to advance further information as to the grounds for the search, indicating that if disclosure of these to the defence would compromise the Crown’s position (such as, for example, by betraying a promise of confidentiality to an informer), then arrangements might be made to accommodate that concern.

It should be noted that the search in question was carried out without warrant. If there had been an application for a warrant (not at all practical in this case) then any secrecy concerns could have been met, so the extension of this similar offer to the Crown here was not as bizarre as it might otherwise have seemed. Nevertheless, the warrantless search powers are designed for occasions where the necessary grounds for their exercise arise ex improviso, and should be capable of being stated clearly when the challenge arises. Should there be a need to protect the identity of an informer, the relevant police witness would raise that in the course of his evidence and the Court would take the necessary steps to determine an issue of public interest immunity. Therefore the opportunity held out by the Court of Appeal to the Crown came at an inappropriately late stage in the proceedings, and accordingly the appropriateness of the Court of Appeal’s Memorandum procedure in R v F can be doubted.

Having said that, it may nevertheless be conceded that now the court of final appeal, the Supreme Court (which has replaced the Privy Council in this role), is within the reach of ordinary litigants, the Court of Appeal may well take a more activist role in raising issues that could prompt changes in the law.

So, what are the unsatisfactory aspects of the reasoning of the Court in R v F as far as the Shaheed balancing exercise is concerned? The Court referred, para 27, to public attitudes, saying that public opinion would be against exclusion of the evidence. That, with respect, is not a true reflection of the relevant point. Public attitudes that are ill-informed are immaterial. The Court referred separately, para 28, to the nature of the criminal conduct. This is not really separate from the first point, the public interest. The Court did, however, correctly refer to the likely sentence in this case as being the indicator of the weight to be given to the public interest in the bringing of suspects to trial.

Also unsatisfactory is the Court’s reference to the accused’s privacy interests, para 24 – 26. Certainly, privacy in a car is less than in a home, and the Court acknowledged that the accused’s interests, expressed in BORA s 21, 22, and s 18 MDA 1975, were "in general terms significant". The reference in para 26 to the serious social harm that can arise from the offending, coming as it does immediately after these references to the accused’s privacy interests, appears to be a suggestion that the privacy interests are diminished by the seriousness of the offending. That, of course, would be wrong. The privacy interests are those that everyone enjoys. They have weight reflecting the value that the ordinary person attaches to not being subject to arbitrary official search. This weight may well be outweighed by competing interests, but that would be because those competing interests are stronger, not because the privacy interests are diminished.

In para 25 there is reference to the powers to stop the vehicle that could have been relied upon in this case. The suggestion seems to be that because the police could have lawfully stopped the vehicle, that diminishes the wrongfulness of their stopping the vehicle improperly. That would be a misapplication of authority, which is to the effect that the police are expected to obey the law, so that failure to take available lawful steps counts against admissibility of the wrongfully obtained evidence: R v H 9/11/04, CA61/04 at para 46.

Restraining executive power

Judicial activism is irksome to legislators. In A and others v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2004] UKHL 56 (16 December 2004) seven Law Lords and Baroness Hale upheld the right of detainees to challenge the validity of subordinate legislation. Lord Walker dissented.

Lord Bingham, who delivered the leading speech, quoted, at para 41, Simon Brown LJ in International Transport Roth GmbH v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2003] QB 728, at para 54:

" … Constitutional dangers exist no less in too little judicial activism as in too much. There are limits to the legitimacy of executive or legislative decision-making, just as there are to decision-making by the courts."

Accordingly, an order, made by the Home Secretary, derogating from the right not to be detained except pending deportation (Article 5(1)(f) of the ECHR), was held to be subject to review on proportionality grounds. Derogation is permitted, under the ECHR, if it is within the terms of Art 15.1: "In time of war or other public emergency threatening the life of the nation any High Contracting Party may take measures derogating from its obligations under this Convention to the extent strictly required by the exigencies of the situation, provided that such measures are not inconsistent with its other obligations under international law."

In para 44 Lord Bingham reached his conclusion on proportionality:

"…The European Court does not approach questions of proportionality as questions of pure fact …. Nor should domestic courts do so. The greater intensity of review now required in determining questions of proportionality, and the duty of the courts to protect Convention rights, would in my view be emasculated if a judgment at first instance on such a question were conclusively to preclude any further review. So would excessive deference, in a field involving indefinite detention without charge or trial, to ministerial decision. In my opinion, SIAC [the Special Immigration Appeals Commission] erred in law and the Court of Appeal erred in failing to correct its error."

Part of the reasons for the finding of lack of proportionality was that the order was discriminatory. The derogation order was accordingly quashed, and section 23 of the Anti-terrorism, Crime and Security Act 2001[UK] was declared to be incompatible with articles 5 and 14 of the European Convention.

Lord Hoffmann agreed in the result, but for the different reason that he was not satisfied that there was a sufficient emergency to permit the making of the derogation order. He made the point, at para 88, that he was not relying on law peculiar to the European context, and that the common law rights pre-existed the ECHR:

"88. … I would not like anyone to think that we are concerned with some special doctrine of European law. Freedom from arbitrary arrest and detention is a quintessentially British liberty, enjoyed by the inhabitants of this country when most of the population of Europe could be thrown into prison at the whim of their rulers. It was incorporated into the European Convention in order to entrench the same liberty in countries which had recently been under Nazi occupation. The United Kingdom subscribed to the Convention because it set out the rights which British subjects enjoyed under the common law.

"89. The exceptional power to derogate from those rights also reflected British constitutional history. There have been times of great national emergency in which habeas corpus has been suspended and powers to detain on suspicion conferred on the government. It happened during the Napoleonic Wars and during both World Wars in the twentieth century. These powers were conferred with great misgiving and, in the sober light of retrospect after the emergency had passed, were often found to have been cruelly and unnecessarily exercised. But the necessity of draconian powers in moments of national crisis is recognised in our constitutional history. Article 15 of the Convention, when it speaks of "war or other public emergency threatening the life of the nation", accurately states the conditions in which such legislation has previously been thought necessary.

"90. Until the Human Rights Act 1998, the question of whether the threat to the nation was sufficient to justify suspension of habeas corpus or the introduction of powers of detention could not have been the subject of judicial decision. There could be no basis for questioning an Act of Parliament by court proceedings. Under the 1998 Act, the courts still cannot say that an Act of Parliament is invalid. But they can declare that it is incompatible with the human rights of persons in this country. Parliament may then choose whether to maintain the law or not. The declaration of the court enables Parliament to choose with full knowledge that the law does not accord with our constitutional traditions."

Readers who are able to take a broad view will note the similarities of this case to Siloata v R, considered in the previous entry on this blogsite. The same essay of Montaigne, cited there, contains another appropriate observation:

"I hardly agree ... with the opinion of that man [Justinian, by his Code and his Pandects] who tried to curb the authority of his judges by a multitude of laws, thus cutting their meat up for them. He did not understand that there is as much liberty and latitude in the interpretation as in the making of them. ...
"... We have in France more laws than the rest of the world put together [Montaigne was writing in the 1580s]. ... 'As we once suffered from crimes, so now we are suffering from laws' [Tacitus, Annals, III, XXV]."

The Supreme Court and the fundamentals

As predicted in these blogs on 25 August 2004, the Supreme Court of New Zealand has upheld, in Siloata v R 16/12/04, SC CRI 8/2004, the primacy of the requirement of jury unanimity in the face of a statutory presumption of guilt in the absence of proof by the defence to the contrary. The Court of Appeal (in a judgment delivered by the President) had held that where this presumption applies, if the jury cannot agree on their verdict the accused must be convicted because he has failed to rebut the presumption of guilt. That is, according to the Court of Appeal, there was no room for a "hung jury" once the presumption of guilt applied. This view of the law has been corrected by the Supreme Court. It held that where the jury is not unanimous as to whether the accused has rebutted the presumption of guilt, there is no verdict.

In doing the count, if there are any "don’t knows", these go on the side of the guilties, because getting to the line (the standard of proof on the defence) is not crossing it. Thus, 11 jurors in favour of acquittal, and one don’t know, amounts to a hung jury. This is preferable to the Court of Appeal’s approach, whereby 11 innocents and one don’t know would mean a guilty verdict.

I should point out that this decision does not depend for its validity on the requirement that verdicts must be verdicts of all 12 jurors. If that requirement were to be changed, so that a majority of, say, 10 would be sufficient for a verdict, then the Siloata interpretation is that in such a case there must be unanimity among 10 jurors: 10 thinking the accused has satisfied the burden of proof means a "not guilty" verdict; 10 thinking he has not met the burden (or some or all of the 10 being unable to decide whether he has or not, ie being on the line) means "guilty", and less than 10 being sure that he has, or has not, met the burden means a hung jury.

While the law was corrected in Siloata, the result of the case was dismissal of the appeal, because the way the judge had directed the jury at trial must have left them with the correct impression, namely that they must be unanimous in order to have arrived at a verdict. The error in the case had been introduced at the Court of Appeal level, not at trial. Although in this case it might be thought that the defence had won the battle but lost the war, because the conviction was upheld, on a broader perspective, this is a case of the defence losing the battle (this case) but winning the war (getting the law corrected). It must be acknowledged that the Crown did not oppose the correction, simply contending that there had been no error at trial.

It is impossible to devise a legal system, involving a hierarchy of courts, where there will not be the possibility of introduction of errors at each level. Inevitably, with time, there will be the occasional instance of error in the decisions of the Supreme Court, just as there has been in the House of Lords and the Privy Council. It is important that the Supreme Court should regard itself as free to depart from its own precedents when they are shown to have been wrong.

The point considered by the Supreme Court in Siloata was very narrow. There are dangers in looking too narrowly at the law. Montaigne, in "On Experience" (Essays, Book 3 Chapter 13) reminds us of Seneca's observation (Letters LXXXIX): "Anything that is divided into minute grains becomes confused." One might respectfully wonder whether it was appropriate to restrict the issues in this case so as to exclude the important matters of (1) whether the standard of proof on the defence to rebut the presumption of purpose should remain at balance of probabilities, when human rights law favours the lower standard of raising a reasonable doubt, and (2) whether the jurors have to be unanimous on the issue of possession of a minimum quantity of drug before any of them can use the presumption of purpose in their reasoning towards a verdict, when usually the requirement for unanimity permits individual jurors to determine facts for themselves as they work towards a decision. This second point is explored in more detail below.

An aspect of the law concerning use of the presumption was not considered in Siloata because the accused had conceded possession of the quantity of drug necessary to raise the presumption of purpose of supply. This aspect is, does the presumption only arise if the jury unanimously find possession of the necessary quantity of drug, or can the presumption be used as a fact finding tool by any individual juror who is satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that the accused had possession of that quantity? It seems to have always been assumed that the jurors will all be in agreement about quantity before the presumption arises. Indeed, the requirement for unanimity, on whether the accused has satisfied the standard of proof to rebut the presumption, reflects this assumption. A perhaps unintended consequence is that, if one juror is not satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that the accused had possession of the necessary quantity of drug to raise the presumption of purpose, then none of the jurors can use the presumption in deciding the issue of purpose of supply. A preferable approach would, it is respectfully suggested, have been to regard the presumption as a fact finding tool available to those jurors who were satisfied on the issue of quantity; the jury has to be unanimous in its verdict but may reach that verdict by different routes.

I suggest that the presumption has developed an unfortunate mystique which has caused it to be misunderstood. The presumption is simply a fact-finding tool. It should be available for use by any juror who is satisfied that the criteria for invoking it are met. It is a separate matter from the requirement for jury unanimity in the verdict, and it is separate from the issue of standard of proof. Nevertheless, these considerations will all come together in the case. The effect of the presumption is to make it harder for the accused to avoid the conclusion, in the mind of any juror for whom the presumption is available in fact finding, that the drug was possessed for supply.

The Joy of Jurisprudence

Yes, jurisprudence can be useful. Consider the problem mentioned in these blogs on Wednesday November 17, 2004 of whether a person who intends to return a drug to its owner has possession of it for supply: R v Adams 20/10/04, Miller J, HC Wellington CRI 2004-091-341.

Is returning a drug to its owner the offence of “supply” of that drug? How do we decide whether conduct should be an offence when the statutory definition is ambiguous?

We might consult the website of the Oxford Professor of Jurisprudence. Indeed, we did.
Consequently, some ideas emerge from our mental fog, although these may or may not be what Professor Gardner intended.

How do we feel about a person who returns a drug to its owner? Has he done wrong? If we cannot really say that we consider his act wrong, then we should conclude that he has committed no offence.

We may, however, feel that he has done some wrong. How much wrong? Not as much as a person who supplies a drug to a stranger. Why not? Because in returning the drug to its owner, he has not given any new power over the drug to anyone, as the owner had the power to demand it back anyway. So he is not as bad as he could be. There is a “residual” sort of wrong about what he did. There has been a conflict of reasons about why supplying drugs is wrong. On the one hand, supply of a drug to another person increases the amount of access to the drug, and that is harmful. On the other hand, if it is returned to its owner, there is no increase in access; there could even be said to be a decrease in access as the minder of the drug no longer has it. Yet the owner has it, and that is wrong. Looked at this way, the person who returns the drug to its owner has a defence. The offence has occurred but as far as the law is concerned the defence, that the supply was to the owner, prevents criminal responsibility attaching to the supplier.

A third alternative is that we may feel that he has done wrong, and this wrong is not of a merely residual kind. It is a full-blown sort of wrong. In this case returning the drug to its owner is not a defence.

That seems so simple that we may wonder whether we are really doing jurisprudence.

Another sort of analysis is available if we consider the offence of possession of the drug for the purpose of supply. Again, the intention is to return it to its owner. If returning the drug to its owner is a defence to a charge of supplying the drug, possession for the purpose of supply is what might be called a “fault-anticipating wrong”. The wrong is, in expanded terms, possession of the drug for the purpose of supplying it to someone who does not already own it. The fault that is anticipated in this formulation of the charge is the supply to a non-owner. There are two basic wrongs here: possession of the drug, and supply of it to a non-owner. The combination of these basic wrongs creates a “parasitic” or “further” wrong, namely possession of a drug for supply to a non-owner. The feature of the “fault-anticipating wrong” that makes it different from basic wrongs is that the defence, that the intention was to supply the drug to an owner, is actually a negation of the offence itself, instead of being a separate matter that excludes liability.

So what?

Well, the point is to clarify the relationship between wrongdoing and fault. Basic offences, the usual kind, involve wrongdoing but not, if a successful defence is available, fault in its fullest sense. There has, in such cases, been an offence, there has been wrongdoing, but because there is has also been a defence, there has not been enough fault to attract criminal liability. But the other kind of offences, fault-anticipating wrongs, do not, if a successful defence is available, involve wrongdoing. There is, in such cases, no offence, no wrongdoing, and no fault.

Working out these implications of the choices concerning whether returning a drug to its owner is supply, should help decide whether this conduct is wrongdoing.

Public policy exclusion of evidence

The relationship between the common law discretion to exclude evidence on fairness grounds, to the discretion to exclude evidence for breach of the Bill of Rights, is a matter about which the Court of Appeal seems rather hesitant. A misleading approach is evident in R v Murphey (2003) 20 CRNZ 278 (CA), where the discretions seem, without full discussion, to be regarded as being distinct from each other.

The true relationship between these discretions, I suggest, is that they are the same: the Bill of Rights discretion, explained in R v Shaheed [2002] 2 NZLR 377 (CA), is a common law discretion, because the Bill of Rights has no provision for what the consequences of breaches should be. Shaheed does not interpret the Bill of Rights. It does, however, develop the interpretative approach to determining what is unreasonable, in the context of searches, as set out in R v Grayson and Taylor [1997] 1 NZLR 399 (CA). Just as reasonableness involves a balancing of certain factors which emerge from the circumstances of a given case, so too does fairness. It is not surprising that factors relevant to reasonableness will be similar to those relevant to fairness.

In R v Pedersen 12/11/04, CA209/04 the New Zealand Court of Appeal had to address the fairness discretion, as the case did not involve a breach of rights. It did not refer to R v Shaheed, but the factors relevant to the decision, and the decision process itself, to the limited extent to which they were explained in the judgment, can be seen to be akin to the Shaheed model. The police had followed the appellant on to private property to require her to undergo a breath test; there was no evidence that the property was that of the appellant, and for the purposes of the case it was assumed that both the appellant and the officer were trespassers.

"[51] … The trespass [by the police] was brief and minor in nature. There has been no challenge to the accuracy, or the integrity of the police evidence. They were acting in good faith in a situation where it could be inferred that the appellant was attempting to avoid the breath testing checkpoint. In the circumstances, no investigatory alternatives were available for the police, and their actions overall must be considered reasonable. We do not consider fairness requires the exclusion of this evidence."

Here, just as pursuant to Shaheed, the first point to consider is the wrongfulness of the police conduct. In the absence of a breach of rights, this could not be given the same weight as it would have if there had been such a breach. The evidence was reliable and so it could not be suggested that its admission would result in trial unfairness. Good faith, although often mentioned, is, as Shaheed stated, just a neutral factor; the Court could be taken as mentioning it to indicate that the wrongful conduct was not aggravated by deliberation. Absence of alternatives is relevant, because if a lawful procedure had been ignored that would weigh in favour of exclusion of the evidence, as the Court recently pointed out in R v Harder 9/11/04, CA61/04 at para 46. There is also a suggestion of urgency in the circumstances of the case, and this always weighs in favour of admission of the evidence.

In summary, it would have been appropriate for the Court to apply Shaheed directly, rather than to treat the fairness discretion as somehow more mysterious and detached. The result, in any event, is correct.

An individual's access to the courts

Can a person who is detained by officials apply to a court for bail even when there is no prosecution or action brought against him? The Supreme Court of New Zealand has today decided the issue: Zaoui v Attorney-General 25/11/04, SC CIV 13/2004, in a case that departs from the law as had been indicated in some English decisions (eg R v Secretary of State for the Home Department, ex parte Turkoglu [1988] 1 QB 398, 400 per Sir John Donaldson MR).

The central point, around which this cause celebre revolves, is whether the High Court can grant bail to a person when there is no current case, before a court, involving that person. That is, is bail a merely ancillary matter, or is the jurisdiction to grant bail an independent matter? The issue has a faint echo of implications of the majority decision of the Supreme Court of the United States of America in Hamdi v Rumsfeld (see my blogs of 21.9.04 and 26.9.04). Hamdi was not cited in Zaoui, of course, as in Hamdi there was no argument about the court's jurisdiction to hear the case. However the discussion in Hamdi of how judicial procedures should be adapted to the requirements of national security may have some relevance for the bail application that will follow the decision in Zaoui. Hamdi suggests that when it comes to the procedural details of the bail hearing, a more pragmatic approach (in the Posnerian sense) will be appropriate.

The Supreme Court, in taking the formalist approach, has not allowed the law to be governed by administrative convenience. The dangers of doing so were, after all, the lesson handed to the New Zealand Court of Appeal by the Privy Council in Taito v R (2002) 19 CRNZ 224. Fears of a flood of bail applications have not influenced the decision.

The SC described the bail decision in this case in these terms (at para 101):

"This is a case where national security issues arise. It is also a case about the liberty of someone who has refugee status in New Zealand and who is entitled to the benefit of the Refugee Convention requirement that only such restrictions upon his liberty as are necessary should be imposed upon him. The applications fall to be considered against the background of concern for liberty recognised by the Bill of Rights Act and the common law. Accordingly the case raises significant matters of public interest which require careful balance."

Of course, to get to that point, the Court had to decide that jurisdiction to grant bail existed. There had to be an inherent jurisdiction to grant bail that had not been excluded by statute.
The conclusion on inherent jurisdiction was:

"[34] The power of the High Court to grant bail to someone detained is an ancient common law jurisdiction exercised by the superior courts of England in civil and criminal cases. The common law jurisdiction became part of New Zealand law in 1840 [citing English Laws Act 1858]. The powers of the English superior courts have devolved in New Zealand on the High Court [citing section 16 Judicature Act 1908, preceded by the Supreme Court Ordinances of 1841 and 1844 and the Supreme Court Acts of 1860 and 1882]. The power inheres in the Court itself as an independent common law jurisdiction, rather than as an incidental power ancillary to other jurisdiction (as are many procedural powers described as "inherent" or "implied") [citing R v Gage 3 Vin Abridg 518, per Holt CJ; In re Nottingham Corporation [1897] 2 QB 502, 509 per Pollock B; R v Spilsbury [1898] 2 QB 615, 620 per Lord Russell CJ; and RJ Sharpe The Law of Habeas Corpus (2 ed 1989) 141-142].

"[35] Some confusion may arise because the term "inherent jurisdiction" is applied both to substantive and procedural powers. The ancillary inherent powers of courts to regulate their own procedure arise equally in relation to their statutory and common law substantive jurisdictions. Courts which do not possess an inherent substantive jurisdiction (as is the case where their substantive powers are entirely statutory) nevertheless have inherent or implied procedural powers necessary to enable them to give effect to their statutory substantive jurisdiction [citing Department of Social Welfare v Stewart [1990] 1 NZLR 697, 701]."

The terminology here is a bit confusing. "Independent" means "not ancillary", that is, not associated with a matter currently before the court. "Substantive" means concerning the substance of a dispute, so is therefore a term applicable to where bail may arise as an ancillary matter. "Procedural" means how the court conducts its affairs, and this term applies to both independent and ancillary cases.

The Court appears to be saying that the inherent common law jurisdiction can be exercised independently of a matter currently before the court, and its exercise can be a matter of procedure, without having to connect to some substantive issue (and independent cases will not, by definition, involve substantive issues).

The jurisdiction is supervisory, and is best not described as "stand alone". That is, it arises once there is a purported exercise of a power.

"[31] Unless excluded by statute, the inherent jurisdiction of the High Court to grant bail may be directly invoked whenever someone is detained under any enactment pending trial, sentence, appeal, determination of legal status, or (in immigration cases) removal or deportation from New Zealand. The jurisdiction can be exercised whether or not the High Court is seized of proceedings challenging the lawfulness of the detention. Thus, before the Bail Act provided in criminal cases for a statutory right of appeal from the District Court, the High Court commonly granted
bail in its original inherent jurisdiction after bail had been declined by a District Court.

"[32] Detention must be by authority of law. The exercise by inferior courts or officials of a statutory authority to detain falls within the supervisory responsibilities of the High Court. It is mistaken to regard the inherent jurisdiction to grant bail as "stand alone" or in vacuo.

"[33] In the present case, the statute permits detention only by judicial warrant. That imports judicial oversight – first in exercise of the statutory power by a District Court and secondly by the High Court through its general supervisory jurisdiction."

As far as the second consideration was concerned, whether the inherent jurisdiction to grant bail had been excluded by statute, the Court held that there was nothing in the fact that a person was a danger to the security of New Zealand that was necessarily incompatible with release on bail (para 66). It did, however, acknowledge that when bail is an issue, in such cases security will be of major importance (para 69).

This case, from a broad perspective, illustrates the point of prime importance, namely the presumption that Parliament intends its legislation to be consistent with obligations that New Zealand has accepted under international law (para 44). Accordingly, there would have to be strong statutory language to defeat the entitlement of a person to challenge their detention.

Is returning a drug to its owner "supply"?

The tricky problem of whether a person who has been given only temporary custody of a drug has a purpose of supply when he returns that drug to its owner, has arisen again in New Zealand: R v Adams 20/10/04, Miller J, HC Wellington CRI 2004-091-341. The conflicting cases are reviewed, and preference is given to the dissenting speech of Lord Goff in R v Maginnis [1987] 1 All ER 907 (HL). Miller J held that the temporary custodian does not supply the drug when returning it to its owner, because no additional rights or powers are thereby conferred than had existed before. The majority in Maginnis had held that it was not necessary that the supplier (the custodian) should give some power, that he himself had enjoyed, to the other person (the owner), and that therefore the custodian who returns the drug to its owner is supplying it. This was because the owner had no legal right to demand return of the illicit drug.

In end the issue will be resolved according to whichever approach to interpretation the court wishes to take (obviously! I mean the question is open). Some comparison may be made with the issue of the liability of a purchaser for conspiracy with the seller to supply himself with a drug: this has been held not to be a culpable conspiracy because the Act refers to supply "to another" in this context: R v Lang 13/10/98, CA222/98.

My answer: In the case of a temporary custodian, the possession of the drug is shared: the owner retains control, but not custody, and the custodian has custody and, depending on the circumstances (for example, if there is clearly a power to protect possession against third persons), a measure of control sufficient to amount to joint possession with the owner. The giving of custody back to the owner is less than a giving of possession, and for that reason the return of the drug would not be an act of supply.

See also my text, Mathias, Misuse of Drugs (Brookers Criminal Library, electronic edition) at paras 147 and 402.

Miscarriage of justice and strength of the prosecution case

Miscarriages of justice may be thought of as having two roles to play in criminal procedure. The first is as a ground of appeal. The second is where a miscarriage of justice is not "substantial", and on this ground the appellate court may dismiss the appeal (called "applying the proviso").

Miscarriages of justice are usually "substantial". They arise from fundamental departures from proper procedure. Once the appellate court is satisfied that there has been a miscarriage of justice that amounts to a fundamental departure from proper procedure, it will not matter that the evidence in support of conviction was overwhelming. The conviction will be quashed. Usually a re-trial will be ordered.

These observations, which are an intentional simplification of the law, are illustrated by the High Court of Australia, in Subramaniam v R [2004] HCA 51 (10 November 2004). The Court cited Wilde v The Queen (1988) 164 CLR 365 at 373 (per Brennan, Dawson and Toohey JJ):
:
"The proviso has no application where an irregularity has occurred which is such a departure from the essential requirements of the law that it goes to the root of the proceedings. If that has occurred, then it can be said, without considering the effect of the irregularity upon the jury's verdict, that the accused has not had a proper trial and that there has been a substantial miscarriage of justice ...
There is no rigid formula to determine what constitutes such a radical or fundamental error. It may go either to the form of the trial or the manner in which it was conducted."

Reference was also made to TKWJ v R (2002) CLR 124, 147 [73], where McHugh J said:

"…in most cases of misdirection on facts, the appellant has the onus of establishing a misdirection, that it might have affected the verdict and that, if it had not been made, the jury might have acquitted the appellant. In some undefined categories of cases, however, the irregularity may be so material that of itself it constitutes a miscarriage of justice without the need to consider its effect on the verdict."

Forcing the accused to have counsel

Mr Milosevic has to accept counsel at his trial.

This decision was upheld by the Appeals Chamber of the International Criminal Tribunal for the Prosecution of Persons Responsible for Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law Committed in the Territory of the Former Yugoslavia since 1991 ("Tribunal" or "ICTY "): Milosevic v Prosecutor, 1 November 2004, Case no. IT-02-54-AR73.7.

Ironically, counsel assigned to Mr Milosevic filed the appeal against the order that Mr Milosevic had to accept counsel.

The right to defend one’s self is not absolute, as the Trial Chamber had recognised throughout the proceedings. Frequent adjournments of the proceedings have been necessary, depending on Mr Milosevic’s blood pressure. Although his health continued to decline, and delays lengthen, he was still able to make strenuous objections to the imposition of counsel on him.

What are the duties of counsel who are imposed on a reluctant client? The Trial Chamber issued a set of guidelines. These allowed for further participation in the conduct of his defence by Mr Milosevic, as the Appeals Chamber observed, "[h]owever, his participation would be secondary to that of Assigned Counsel and strictly contingent on the discretionary permission of the Trial Chamber in any given instance."

The Appeals Chamber noted that the law in many countries allows for restrictions on the right of an accused to represent himself, citing examples in England, Scotland, Canada, New Zealand, and Australia. But the issue here went further than that. At para 13 the Appeals Chamber held:

"It must further be decided whether the right may be curtailed on the grounds that a defendant’s self-representation is substantially and persistently obstructing the proper and expeditious conduct of his trial. The Appeals Chamber believes that, under the appropriate circumstances, the Trial Chamber may restrict the right on those grounds."

(para 14): "How should the Tribunal treat a defendant whose health, while good enough to engage in the ordinary and non-strenuous activities of everyday life, is not sufficiently robust to withstand all the rigors of trial work – the late nights, the stressful cross-examinations, the courtroom confrontations – unless the hearing schedule is reduced to one day a week, or even one day a month? Must the Trial Chamber be forced to choose between setting that defendant free and allowing the case to grind to an effective halt? In the Appeals Chamber’s view, to ask that question is to answer it."

In the circumstances, the decision of the Trial Chamber to appoint counsel for Mr Milosevic was upheld. However it did not uphold the particulars which spelt out the role he was entitled to have in relation to counsel. It was wrong (para 16) of the Trial Chamber to sharply restrict his ability to participate in the conduct of his defence. In particular, it was wrong to permit him to cross-examine witnesses only with leave of the Chamber, and then only after counsel had cross-examined. Restrictions on his right to represent himself had to be proportional to what was necessary to accomplish their objective:

"17. These sharp restrictions, unfortunately, were grounded on a fundamental error of law: the Trial Chamber failed to recognize that any restrictions on Milosevic’s right to represent himself must be limited to the minimum extent necessary to protect the Tribunal’s interest in assuring a reasonably expeditious trial. When reviewing restrictions on fundamental rights such as this one, many jurisdictions are guided by some variant of a basic proportionality principle: any restriction of a fundamental right must be in service of "a sufficiently important objective," and must "impair the right... no more than is necessary to accomplish the objective." Similarly, while the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights allows some restriction of certain civil rights where "necessary to protect national security, public order (ordre public), public health or morals, or the rights and freedoms of others," the United Nations Human Rights Committee has observed that any such restrictions "must conform to the principle of proportionality;... they must be the least intrusive instrument amongst those which might achieve the desired result; and they must be proportionate to the interest to be protected." And the ICTY itself has been guided by a "general principle of proportionality" in assessing defendants’ suitability for provisional release, noting that a restriction on the fundamental right to liberty is acceptable only when it is "(1) suitable, (2) necessary and when (3) its degree and scope remain in a reasonable relationship to the envisaged target."

The Trial Chamber had exercised its discretion wrongfully, in that it failed to establish a carefully calibrated set of procedures which reflected Mr Milosevic’s actual state of health. It concluded:

"19. In light of the foregoing discussion, the Appeals Chamber affirms the Trial Chamber’s imposition of defense counsel, but reverses its Order on Modalities. On remand, the Trial Chamber should craft a working regime that minimizes the practical impact of the formal assignment of counsel, except to the extent required by the interests of justice. At a minimum, this regime must be rooted in the default presumption that, when he is physically capable of doing so, Milosevic will take the lead in presenting his case – choosing which witnesses to present, questioning those witnesses before Assigned Counsel has an opportunity to do so, arguing any proper motions he desires to present to the court, giving a closing statement when the defense rests, and making the basic strategic decisions about the presentation of his defense. But this presumption is just that: a presumption. Under the current circumstances, where Milosevic is sufficiently well to present a vigorous, two-day opening statement, it was an abuse of discretion to curtail his participation in the trial so dramatically on the grounds of poor health. The Appeals Chamber can hardly anticipate, however, the myriad health-related difficulties that may arise in the future, or use this occasion to calibrate an appropriate set of responses to every possible eventuality. It is therefore left to the wise discretion of the Trial Chamber to steer a careful course between allowing Milosevic to exercise his fundamental right of self-representation and safeguarding the Tribunal’s basic interest in a reasonably expeditious resolution of the cases before it.
"20. The Appeals Chamber stresses the following point: in practice, if all goes well, the trial should continue much as it did when Milosevic was healthy. To a lay observer, who will see Milosevic playing the principal courtroom role at the hearings, the difference may well be imperceptible. If Milosevic’s health problems resurface with sufficient gravity, however, the presence of Assigned Counsel will enable the trial to continue even if Milosevic is temporarily unable to participate. The precise point at which that reshuffling of trial roles should occur will be up to the Trial Chamber."

This restores the proper relationship between counsel and accused: counsel is obliged to follow instructions in the conduct of the defence: R v McLoughlin [1985] 1 NZLR 106, (1984) 1 CRNZ 215 (CA). In the absence of a specific instruction, counsel may make tactical decisions in the interests of the accused: R v S [1998] 3 NZLR 392, also reported as R v Accused (CA467/97) (1998) 15 CRNZ 611 (CA), at p 395; p 614; R v Young 15/9/03, CA13/03. Of course, the way the defence case is conducted, by counsel or by the accused in person, may itself prejudice the court against the accused: R v Sharma 3/9/03, CA431/02.

Is infrared surveillance "search"?

Infrared surveillance may reveal patterns of heat emerging from a building. That in turn, when added to other information, may provide reasonable grounds for the issuing of a search warrant. Cannabis cultivation indoors can be discovered in this way. That happened in R v Tessling 2004 SCC 67 (29 October 2004). The Supreme Court of Canada held that, the present state of technology being insufficient to reveal exactly what was going on in the respondent’s house, he had no reasonable expectation of privacy in the circumstances of this case. Accordingly, there was no breach of his right to be free from unreasonable search.

The United States Supreme Court had held differently in Kylio v US 533 US 27 (2001). There, the majority held that the Government conducts a search of a home when it uses a device that is not in general public use to explore details of the home that would have previously been unknowable without physical intrusion. Further, a such a search was presumptively unreasonable without a warrant.

The point has not yet been decided in New Zealand, but some similar situations have been considered. (See Mathias, Misuse of Drugs, para 1405.) In R v Gardiner 30/6/97, Chisholm J, HC Christchurch T45/97 it was held that camera surveillance from outside premises, where views of the interior of the house were obtained, amounted to a search which, in the circumstances of this borderline case, was not unreasonable. It was noted that the police had good grounds to believe serious drug offending was occurring on the premises. Where police conduct was reasonable, it was not necessary to determine whether video surveillance of the back of a residential property by a camera outside the premises amounted to a search: R v Fraser [1997] 2 NZLR 442, (1997) 15 CRNZ 44 (CA). In that case the area filmed was readily visible to passers-by. Aerial surveillance from an aircraft flying at approximately 500 feet over farmland was not, on the facts, unreasonable in R v Peita (1999) 17 CRNZ 407 (CA), but the Court was careful to point out (at para 13) that "each case must be considered on its own facts, bearing in mind the privacy based nature of the right and its reasonable qualification by the public interest in crime detection".

Third party challenges to trial publicity

When may a third party obtain suppression of publication of the name of an accused? In Re S (a child) [2004] UKHL 47 (28 October 2004) the legal representative of a child sought to protect him from publicity that would arise from his mother’s trial on a charge of murdering his brother. The first notable feature of the case is that it illustrates the process of balancing competing rights. These rights, pursuant to the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), are the right to privacy (Art 8) and the right to freedom of information (Art 10).

The House of Lords was careful to emphasise that the circumstances of each case have to be considered. Lord Steyn delivered the speech with which the other Law Lords agreed. He set out the method in para 17:

"… First, neither article has as such precedence over the other. Secondly, where the values under the two articles are in conflict, an intense focus on the comparative importance of the specific rights being claimed in the individual case is necessary. Thirdly, the justifications for interfering with or restricting each right must be taken into account. Finally, the proportionality test must be applied to each. For convenience I will call this the ultimate balancing test. This is how I will approach the present case."

Following that approach, the prevailing right was held to be the Art 10 right to information, and the injunction sought against publication was refused.

The second notable aspect of this case is what it says about the common law inherent jurisdiction of the court to prohibit publication. It was held (para 23) that the jurisdiction to prevent publication is now derived from Convention rights, and as far as existence and scope of the power is concerned, the prior case law on inherent jurisdiction need no longer be considered. However, that case law remains relevant in illustrating the balancing process, which developed with acknowledgement of European jurisprudence even before October 2000 (when the Human Rights Act 1998[UK] – "the UK Act" - came into force).

We may well wonder whether this suggests, by analogy, anything for New Zealand law. The UK Act, s 3, requires domestic courts to give effect to the jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights so far as it is possible to do so. This is a clear indication that Strasbourg decisions, rather than the prior common law, should henceforth be the guide to the interpretation of Convention Rights.

By contrast, in New Zealand, NZBORA 1990 affirms and promotes the rights set out in it, and it affirms New Zealand’s commitment to the ICCPR. There is no provision requiring foreign court decisions to be followed. The right to freedom of information is contained in NZBORA, s 14, but the right to privacy, relied on in Re S (a child), is not. It is preserved at common law by virtue of s 28, which continues existing rights and freedoms notwithstanding their omission from NZBORA. Such inherent jurisdiction as there is, therefore, should remain alive, and indeed may draw upon the balancing process described in Re S (a child).

Sex and time

A hundred years on, R v Blight (1903) 22 NZLR 837 (CA) retains its potency. The House of Lords has referred to it in R v J [2004] UKHL 42 (14 October 2004), in which a majority upheld the prohibition on the prosecution evading a statutory time limit by alleging a similar offence, not subject to such a limit, based on the same facts:

[65] … there may indeed be some initial difficulties. But your Lordships would merely be adopting the same approach as has applied in the case of the equivalent legislation in New Zealand for over a century, following the decision in R v Blight 22 NZLR 837. Significantly, [Crown counsel] was unable to point to any insuperable problems which the prosecutors or courts had encountered there. On the contrary, when, in R v Hibberd [2001] 2 NZLR 211, the Court of Appeal came to interpret the Crimes Act 1961 as amended to cover homosexual offences, in the light of their experience they deliberately adopted the same approach to the time-bar as had been laid down in R v Blight.

Baroness Hale dissented:

[90] … The rationale behind the time limit can no longer be that which it was said to be in R v Blight 22 NZLR 837. If it is that the defendant can no longer have a fair trial, I would certainly agree that such prosecutions should be stayed either as an abuse of process or as outside the prosecutor's competence to bring. If it is, as was suggested by the Criminal Law Revision Committee when it recommended retention of the time limit in its 15th report in 1984, that people should not be prosecuted for offences which were "stale", it is unclear what this means in a case where a fair trial is still possible. If it means that something which was once a matter deserving of punishment is no longer so because of the passage of time, then this will not invariably be so. At one extreme will be the teenage romance between a boy and a girl who have since gone their separate ways, where no possible personal or public interest would be served by prosecution. At the other will be prolonged and serious abuse of a position of trust by a person who might well be left to do it again unless action is taken. It will all depend upon the circumstances, in which the interests of the accused, the victim and of society will all play their part. A just and humane prosecution policy should be capable of taking all these factors into account.

The difference between the majority and the minority reflects formalist and pragmatic analysis, respectively.