Advocacy needs focus: Ruhumatally v The State (Mauritius) [2024] UKPC 15

Most advocates know how burdensome - even embarrassing - it is to advance weak submissions.

We used to have a Court of Appeal justice who, after counsel had completed extended submissions on what was apparently thought to have been a strong ground of appeal, would ask (in a darkly humorous sort of way), “Is that your strongest point?” [1]

The Privy Council has had to remind us that it is a duty of counsel to focus on arguable points: Ruhumatally v The State (Mauritius) [2024] UKPC 15, at 55:

“The Board does not wish to be unfairly critical. It of course understands the difficulties sometimes faced by defence advocates who, trying their best to discharge their professional duties towards their lay clients, are anxious not to overlook any point or argument which may assist the defence. It is however an important part of the advocate’s role to exercise judgement and discrimination in focusing on the arguable points, rather than obscuring them by a plethora of poor points and weak submissions. No court is assisted by the multiplication of arguments regardless of their merit. Nor is a defendant assisted by such an approach, which runs the risk of undermining the stronger points in the defendant’s favour. It must, moreover, be clearly understood that a defendant who advances a multitude of arguments, including some which are plainly without merit, cannot thereby create an artificial ground of appeal based upon a complaint that the court below did not give a detailed response to every single point which was raised. In such circumstances, a failure by the court to address particular points in detail is not in itself an indication that the defendant’s case has not been considered and decided in accordance with the law.” [2]

This appeal against conviction for murder was successful (a retrial was ordered).

I have mentioned advocacy here, on 17 April 2015 (reviewing Alan Paterson’s most excellent book Final Judgment - The Last Law Lords and the Supreme Court), and also in noting R v Samaniego on 9 April 2022.

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[1] A judge who embarks on this sort of provocation can hardly complain if counsel replies with the gently sarcastic "Properly understood, yes."

[2] I think the same exercise of judgment and discrimination by counsel should be applied more frequently in decisions about whether to appeal in the first place. Weak appeals tend to cause the law to develop in ways that are not necessarily desirable. Examples may be found in the law of the admissibility of improperly obtained evidence.

Openness about protection of informers: Canadian Broadcasting Corp v Named Person, 2024 SCC 21

Procedures for reconciling the interests involved in cases where informer privilege exists are the subject of Canadian Broadcasting Corp v Named Person, 2024 SCC 21.

My summary in the following paragraphs does not adopt all the terminology used by the Canadian court, in order to point to general relevance.

Once an informer’s privilege is established, [1] it is absolute (that is, non-discretionary). It applies to prevent publication of information concerning the identity of the informer and information that could jeopardize the informer’s safety [42]. [2]

The public interest in not discouraging people from assisting the police in the investigation of crime, and associated interests supporting informer privilege [35] can be in conflict with the principle of open justice, which is aimed at promoting public confidence in the integrity of the judicial system [29]. The former must take precedence [42]. Therefore, when it is necessary to exclude the public and the media from those proceedings where privileged information about an informer is revealed, there must be as much openness as is possible and the existence of the in camera (or “parallel”) proceedings must not be concealed [74]-[81].

When a decision has to be made about whether to hold proceedings in camera, the judge must have a discretion to alert potentially interested third parties who may wish to make submissions on the issue [55]. The rights of the media to seek judicial review of a confidentiality order must be respected as far as is possible [81].

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[1] There will usually be statutory criteria to satisfy before informer status is established. For example, the Evidence Act 2006 [NZ] defines who is an informer in s 64(2), but the privilege may be disallowed in certain circumstances, set out in s 67 (which applies to the other privileges too, except the privilege against self-incrimination.)

[2] The New Zealand provision, s 64(1), only covers the informer’s identity. See Wright-Meldrum v R [2022] NZCA 649 at [31], [35]-[36]. As to undercover officers, intelligence officers and anonymity orders generally, see the Criminal Procedure Act 2011 [NZ], ss 84, 91, 94.

Defence against provoked assault: Dayney v The King [2024] HCA 22

Sometimes, the clarity of a court’s exposition of a statutory provision makes one wonder why the legislation drafting office couldn’t come up with such clarity in the first place.

For example, see Dayney v The King [2024] HCA 22, at [1] and [26], referring to the third clause of s 272(2) of the Criminal Code (Qld).

Funnily enough, s 272(2) has some similarity to s 49(b) and (c) of the Crimes Act 1961 [NZ], provisions which were repealed on 1 January 1981.

From that date self-defence (and defence of another) has been governed solely by s 48.

Section 48 has been the victim of changing fashions in pronoun use,[1] its original and in my opinion more elegant version having used only the male pronoun. Even now, when we have so many more genders, the current s 48 seems somewhat old-fashioned.

But aside from that, s 48 is a justification, whereas the Queensland provision is merely an excuse. If the defendant provoked the assault, the use of force in self-defence or in defence of another may nevertheless be reasonable.[2]

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[1] You can have fun with de-pronouning legal writing; see my note here on 10 July 2014.

[2] Compare R v Rashford [2005] EWCA Crim 3377 at [19], Simon v R [2016] NZCA 449 at [18], R v Keane; R v McGrath [2010] EWCA Crim 2514, Zecevic v DPP (1987) 162 CLR 645 at 663. The defendant’s role in the incident is referred to in s 34(2)(c) of the Canadian Criminal Code, and see R v Khill, 2021 SCC 37.

The need for intention in the common law of joint enterprise liability: Bastian v The King (The Bahamas) [2024] UKPC 14

A post-R v Jogee; Ruddock v The Queen [1] application of the common law of joint enterprise liability [2] is yesterday’s decision of the Privy Council in Bastian v The King (The Bahamas) [2024] UKPC 14.

The common law of The Bahamas had apparently not taken the wrong turning that was corrected in the Jogee and Ruddock appeals [21]-[24], so this was not a case where the law had to be changed. The trial judge had erred in several respects on the requirement for intention [29], with the result that the convictions were unsafe [36], [43]. The proviso could not be applied [56], and no retrial was ordered on the charge of murder because the evidence of intention was too tenuous [61]. In The Bahamas murder requires an intention to kill [13], but the appellant might have been liable for manslaughter so the question of retrial for manslaughter was remitted [3] to the Court of Appeal of the Commonwealth of The Bahamas.

Of procedural significance is the Board’s observation on written assistance that should be given to juries where there are complicated issues of law and fact [57]. Whether this procedure should be followed in The Bahamas was for its Court of Appeal to consider.

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[1] See my note here, 2 April 2016.

[2] I like to call this “extended” secondary liability but sometimes I call it “common purpose” liability because of its slightly different statutory form in s 66(2) of the Crimes Act 1961 [NZ]. Essentially, it is liability for an offence that the defendant has neither personally committed nor aided, abetted, incited counselled or procured.

[3] Obviously it would be more correct to say that the Board humbly advised His Majesty that … (etc).

Suppressing suppression orders: Farish v R [2024] NZSC 65

I am going to comment on this case without mentioning Kafka. Franz Kafka. 1883-1924. Author of The Trial, concerning prosecution for an undisclosed crime.

Anyone who is less respectful of the law than I am might thing of Kafka when they read the order issued by the Court in the publicly available judgment in Farish v R [2024] NZSC 65:

“[82] We make a permanent order … prohibiting publication of the following:

(a) any evidence and submissions in this proceeding relating to the nature of the risk [REDACTED] and the information relevant to that risk [REDACTED]; and 

(b) [REDACTED].”

Does such an order meet the requirement of the rule of law that the law should be ascertainable? Strictly speaking, a ruling is not a "law", not a legal norm effective as a precedent, but because it applies to future behaviour it needs to be ascertainable by more people than those directly involved in the case. [1]

The order, to be understood, needs to be read in its context, but in this case the context is in the Court’s judgment that is not published.

In a more helpful part of its judgment, the Court discusses s 205 of the Criminal Procedure Act 2011 which provides for suppression of evidence and submissions (see [25]-[33]).

Particularly noteworthy is the way the Court addressed the problem of whether suppression here might cause the public to think that the judicial system was favouring its own (the applicant for suppression here being a judge, who was not a defendant and who was not involved in the offending).

The public should be the judges of what happens in the courts [73], referring to Lady Hale P in Dring (on behalf of the Asbestos Victims Support Groups Forum UK) v Cape Intermediate Holdings Ltd (Media Lawyers Association intervening) [2019] UKSC 38, [2020] AC 629 at [42]-[43]. The Court concluded that “the interests of justice do not require that the appellant accept a serious risk to personal safety so that a court can avoid giving the false impression that she is being afforded privileged treatment.”

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[1] See John Gardner, Law as a Leap of Faith (2012, OUP) p 193.

Fundamental but simple points in two important cases: Thornell v Jones USSC 22-982 and A (SC70/2022) v Minister of Internal Affairs [2024] NZSC 63

Two recent cases highlight a couple of unrelated but fundamental points.

When has a defendant not had effective legal representation?

In Thornell v Jones USSC 22-982, 30 May 2024 the Court summarised the law on appeals against sentence on the grounds of ineffective assistance of counsel, which had been stated in Strickland:

“To succeed on such a claim, a defendant must show that counsel provided a “deficient” performance that “prejudiced” him. Strickland, 466 U. S., at 687. When an ineffective-assistance-of-counsel claim is based on counsel’s performance at the sentencing phase of a capital case, a defendant is prejudiced only if “there is a reasonable probability that, absent [counsel’s] errors, the sentencer . . . would have concluded that the balance of aggravating and mitigating circumstances did not warrant death.” Id., at 695. “A reasonable probability is a probability sufficient to undermine confidence in the outcome. That requires a substantial, not just conceivable, likelihood of a different result.” Pinholster, 563 U. S., at 189 (citation and internal quotation marks omitted). This standard does not require a defendant to show that it is more likely than not that adequate representation would have led to a better result, but “[t]he difference” should matter “only in the rarest case.” Strickland, 466 U. S., at 697. To determine whether a prisoner satisfies this standard, a court must “consider the totality of the evidence before the judge or jury”—both mitigating and aggravating Id., at 695.”

Suspicion and belief are different states of mind

And in A (SC70/2022) v Minister of Internal Affairs [2024] NZSC 63 at [41] the fundamental distinction between belief and suspicion was accepted and applied:

"Clause 2(2) requires that the Minister believes on reasonable grounds, not suspects. Both counsel for the appellant and the special advocate emphasised this. In R v Williams, a case dealing with applications for search warrants, the Court of Appeal explained the difference between these standards in these terms: [Footnote 23: R v Williams [2007] NZCA 52, [2007] 3 NZLR 207 per William Young P and Glazebrook J (citations omitted). Hammond J agreed at [258].]

[213] Having “reasonable grounds to believe” … is a higher standard to meet than “reasonable ground to suspect” … Belief means that there has to be an objective and credible basis for thinking that a search will turn up the item(s) named in the warrant, while suspicion means thinking that it is likely that a situation exists. The issuing officer must hold the view that the state of affairs the applicant officer is suggesting actually exists.”

This case was a successful appeal against the dismissal of an application to review the Minister’s cancellation of the applicant’s passport. The Supreme Court declared that the Minister’s decision was unlawful and invalid [159] and awarded her costs in relation to the appeal [161]. There is a good deal more of interest in this case concerning the interpretation of the relevant anti-terrorist legislation. The special advocate procedure was used and a significant proportion of the proceedings occurred in closed court [5]. The Supreme Court issued two judgments, this public one and another one only accessible in narrowly defined circumstances [7].

The (ir)relevance of a sexual relationship: R v T.W.W., 2024 SCC 19

One of the interesting things about appellate court benches that consist of a large number of judges is that a few dissenters can produce a convincing judgment.

A split of 7-2 in the Supreme Court of Canada in R v T.W.W., 2024 SCC 19 illustrates this.

There are procedural points addressed in this case that are of great interest to Canadians, but that I will not discuss here.

Rather, it is the difference over whether the defendant’s claim, that a sexual encounter was not rape because the complainant consented, could be supported by evidence that he and she had had consensual sexual intercourse the previous day.

Everyone agrees that it is wrong to reason that prior consent of itself supports present consent. And it is wrong to reason that prior consent of itself shows that the complainant’s denial of present consent is a lie.

But what if a complainant says that there was no relevant relationship with the defendant before the alleged rape? For example, as in this case as assessed by the dissenting justices Côté and Moreau JJ, although they had been married for 20 years and they still lived in the same house, but now separately, the complainant claimed that their relationship had broken down to the point where she no longer consented to sexual conduct with the defendant. The complainant had implied that she would not have consented to sex with him during their separation [140].

To show that this denial of sexual conduct was incorrect, the defendant should - perhaps you agree - be able to adduce evidence of their having had consensual sexual intercourse the day before the alleged rape [122], [127]. Indeed, the complainant had told the police of that consensual occasion, so it was unlikely to have been a disputed occurrence if it had been disclosed in evidence at trial [127].

The evidence would not be used in this situation to support one of the “twin myths”, namely that here the occurence of sexual intercourse the previous day made it more likely that she would have consented on the present occasion, or that it made her less likely to be telling the truth. Instead, it contradicted her claim of what one might call sexual separation.

Why couldn’t the Supreme Court correct what might appear to be the serious error of not admitting evidence of the previous day’s consensual sexual intercourse?

The majority said that the pre-trial application to adduce the evidence had lacked sufficient specificity [27]-[28], [36], [38]. And that at trial the defence was that the alleged act of intercourse, the rape, had not occurred at all [8]. If it hadn’t occurred, no question of its being consensual could arise. And further, the complainant had not been inconsistent because her denial of a continuing romantic relationship was not a denial of a sexual relationship [40], so evidence of the consensual act of intercourse during the separation would have had little probative value [42]. Appeals to the Supreme Court against conviction have limited scope [46], and here the question whether the trial judge should have re-visited the pre-trial ruling is not an issue for consideration on this appeal [48], but in any event the issue would not have called for reconsideration at trial in this case [53].

Overall, the majority seem to be framing the relevant issue according to what they consider the defence position was at trial, while the minority frame the issue according to what they perceive the complainant to have been saying.

I have the impression that this was one of those trials where, because of the background of a long-standing romantic relationship, both the complainant and the defendant were having difficulty in being clear about what they were saying.

The persistence of dangerousness: Brown v United States 22-6389, May 23 2024

A potential sentence for an offence may be increased if the offender has a record of serious offending.

The policy would be to reflect the social danger posed by such an offender, evidenced by persistent serious criminality.

What if the offences for which an offender has convictions are amended by subsequent legislation to make them less serious? They might no longer make the offender eligible for the increased sentence for the latest offence.

In some jurisdictions, legislation about the interpretation of legislation [1] may   make the answer fairly clear.

In Brown v United States 22-6389 (May 23, 2024) the Supreme Court of the United States divided over, if I might put it very broadly, the effect of the change in seriousness of some previous drug convictions for the purposes of sentencing for a firearms offence.

The majority (Alito J, joined by Roberts CJ, Thomas, Sotomayor, Kavanaugh and Barrett JJ) held that the policy of the legislation under which the present sentences were imposed was to reflect the increased social danger posed by persistent offenders, and that this danger was present regardless of the legislature’s reduction in the seriousness of the previous offending.

By way of example, the majority referred to the fact that after Prohibition, the legalization of alcohol “did not by any means ensure that these bootleggers would take up legitimate jobs … many of them simply shifted to other illegal enterprises.”

The position of the minority (Jackson J, joined by Kagan J and in part by Gorsuch J) was that the law is applicable as at the time of the present offending. This, they said, was clear from the plain words of the legislation under which the present sentences were imposed.

The minority added, in a part not joined by Gorsuch J who otherwise joined in the dissent, that the majority had not explained how the future dangerousness of an offender is best assessed by outdated assessments of the seriousness of previous offending. Furthermore, the majority’s interpretation did not include present offenders whose earlier offending would now be assessed as serious but which was not serious when it occurred.

And in a footnote Jackson J described the reference to bootleggers as “strained”, noting that many had successful legitimate careers, and in any event there was no evidence that Congress drew the same lessons from the Prohibition era when considering the present legislation.

The different approaches in this case leave us wondering whether dangerousness is best assessed by act or by attitude.

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[1] See, for example, the Legislation Act 2019 [NZ], s 35 . As its heading indicates, this gives continuing effect to powers exercised under legislation that has been repealed or amended. An example, I think, would be a conviction entered for an offence that has been amended or repealed; the conviction continues in existence, subject to contrary legislative provision. Sections 11 and 12 appear to be consistent with this. Contrary legislation might deem the earlier offences never to have happened, or might establish a procedure to “expunge” the convictions, for example as does the Criminal Records (Expungement of Convictions for Historical Homosexual Offences) Act 2018 [NZ]; for the effect of expungement, see s 9.