When to rescue the rescuer

Procedural fairness may have to be sacrificed to protect a litigant's rights. An illustration is W (Algeria) & Anor v Secretary of State for the Home Department [2012] UKSC 8 (7 March 2012).

The moral issue here was, in the broadest possible terms, should a rescuer be protected if the rescue might be without merit? More specifically, when should a tribunal be able to extend the protection of confidentiality to a witness who claims to have information that would assist a litigant?

The appeal concerned extradition proceedings and whether the appellants, if extradited, would be at risk of ill-treatment in breach of their rights under article 3 of the European Convention on Human Rights.

A witness who claimed to be able to substantiate the risk of ill-treatment refused to give evidence unless the Special Immigration Appeals Commission (SIAC) made an order of confidentiality that would prevent the Secretary of State disclosing to anyone his evidence and his identity. Could SIAC make such an order?

The order would prevent the Secretary investigating the credibility and reliability of the witness, or at least would limit the Secretary's ability to carry out those inquiries. Further, the application for the order would have to be made ex parte, and the Secretary could not therefore oppose it. These were the limits on procedural fairness that would arise if the order was made.

Arguing against the making of such orders, the Secretary submitted that policy favoured the ability to pass on information to governments where threats to security would otherwise not be met. For example, the witness may be a terrorist planning an atrocity, and this may be evident from the nature of the evidence he gives in support of the risk of ill-treatment. Confidentiality might have severe diplomatic consequences if the government of a targeted country discovered that the Secretary had not passed on information that may have saved lives.

So, which is to dominate? The interests of the litigant facing extradition and a risk of ill-treatment, or the interests of those vulnerable to terrorism?

The Supreme Court was unanimous. Two judgments were delivered, each agreeing with the other.

Lord Brown found an answer to the Secretary's potential diplomatic embarrassment in the defence of obedience to a court order [14]. It was necessary to maximise SIAC's chances of arriving at the correct decision [18]. However the power to make such confidentiality orders should be "most sparingly used" [19]. If necessary it should be open to the Secretary to try to persuade SIAC to seek a sufficient waiver of confidentiality to address national security concerns, and if that waiver was not forthcoming then SIAC could view the evidence with scepticism or exclude it [21]. And in any event, in deciding whether to make the order SIAC should require a detailed statement of the proposed evidence, why the witness fears reprisals, and how the person challenging extradition learnt of the witness's proposed evidence and what steps were taken to get the witness to give evidence in the normal way subject to the usual safeguards of anonymity orders and private hearings [20].

Lord Dyson said that a confidentiality order should be made if SIAC is satisfied that the witness can give evidence which appears to be capable of belief and which could be decisive or at least highly material on the issue of safety of return, and if SIAC has no reason to doubt that the witness genuinely and reasonably fears reprisals if his identity and evidence were to be disclosed [34].

The issue arose here in connection with article 3 rights (not to be subjected to torture or to inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment), but Lord Dyson added that it would also arise if the case raised a question under article 2 (right to life) [38]. But if the person resisting extradition relied on an alleged risk of breach of some other article of the Convention, "the balance will almost certainly be struck the other way." [38] He gave as an example breach of article 8 rights (respect for private and family life).

Perhaps too a risk in the requesting country of breach of article 6 rights (fair trial, presumption of innocence) might be sufficient to justify a confidentiality order, but that was not addressed in these appeals.

Lord Brown made it clear that his reasoning was based on the balancing of interests and not on the idea that the playing field should be level or that there should be an equality of arms [22] in the extradition hearing. That is to say, the answer did not emerge from fair hearing considerations. Plainly the procedure is unfair to the Secretary who in any event is obliged to act in the public interest and also to disclose information that could assist the person resisting deportation [22].

A right to a fair hearing belongs to the defendant, not to the prosecutor, so indeed it is inappropriate to speak of level playing fields and equality of arms. Inequalities are assumed, and efforts are made to minimise them, but sometimes they serve the public interest and can be tolerated as long as the hearing remains fair to the defendant. See, for example, R v H [2004] UKHL 3.

So, although this issue arose in the context of extradition, it is potentially relevant to criminal proceedings.

Well, we might wonder if international relations are necessarily conducted according to law. Anyone who was brought up on the novels of Ian Fleming and John Le Carre, or who more recently has enjoyed watching "Spooks", will have doubts. It is easy to imagine in the distant and troubled future that some new Secretary might yell at a subordinate (or at a Chief Justice) "Do you think I am going to let thousands of people die just because of an effing confidentiality order?" As far as the law is concerned, the diplomatic argument should not have been raised and an answer to it not given. Whether the policy of sharing information on terrorist threats outweighs the rights of an individual litigant depends on the content of the evidence in respect of which confidentiality is sought in a specific case. General propositions of the kind advanced by the Secretary here are, without that link to the particular evidence, irrelevant. Also, the Court makes an inappropriate link between refusal of waiver and credibility. Refusal should enhance credibility, not diminish it. A person who refuses to waive confidentiality probably has good reasons for doing so and those reasons should support an inference that he knows what he is talking about. The real issues in this sort of case will be the need for the witness to have confidentiality and the risk of the defendant being ill-treated after extradition, and it is unfortunate that the judges did not reach for their copies of Dworkin's "Justice for Hedgehogs".

Honestly paying for illegal gains

For a 3-2 split on statutory interpretation, involving differences over legislative intent and the scope for application of the principle that property rights are not taken away except where the intention to do so is clear, see Re Peacock [2012] UKSC 5.

The subject of the dispute is not of much interest unless your legislation on recovery of the proceeds of crime leaves it unclear whether property acquired honestly after a recovery order is made can be included within the order. In this case the majority held that the legislature did intend that such honestly and after-acquired property should be recoverable.

The problem arose in Peacock because a confiscation order was made on a calculation which included a reduction to recognise the defendant's means to pay. Subsequently his means legitimately increased. In New Zealand under the Criminal Proceeds (Recovery) Act 2009 a profit forfeiture order does not take into account the defendant's means to pay, and any amount over that actually realised remains owing as a debt to and recoverable by the Crown.

Need witness competency be an issue separate from fairness?

The Supreme Court of Canada has split on the requirements for witness competency: R v D.A.I. 2012 SCC 5 (10 February 2012). The issue in Canada is one of statutory interpretation, and here revolved around whether an adult but mentally impaired witness needed to show an appreciation of the significance of a promise to tell the truth. The majority held that such appreciation did not need to be demonstrated because it could require some difficult abstract concepts. The policy of allowing impaired victims access to justice was of great importance.

Plainly, if the witness's response to questioning while giving evidence was such as to deprive the right of the defence to confront the witness, there would be trial fairness issues. However at the threshold stage the issue was whether the witness showed understanding of the oath or affirmation, and was able to communicate the evidence.

We in New Zealand do not have a competency requirement for witnesses. The idea is that "No person, whether on the grounds of age, intellectual disability, or mental disorder, or on any other ground, may be disbarred from giving evidence on the ground of incompetence. ... In the case of witnesses whose testimony is unhelpful – because of incoherence, for example – the judge may still exclude that evidence under the general exclusionary provisions in s 8": NZLC R55 "Evidence" – Vol 2 at C294.

Book review: “Trial by Ambush” by Joe Karam

No objective reader of Joe Karam's "Trial by Ambush" can possibly come to any conclusion other than that Robin Bain committed the murders of his family. It is equally obvious that David Bain must receive compensation for his years of imprisonment which were a direct result of improprieties in the investigation and failures by the authorities including the judiciary to provide a timely remedy.

It is the failings of the judiciary that are of most concern to readers of this site. Three appeal judges sat on what the Privy Council called the Third Court of Appeal in this case. Their single judgment contained, according to submissions to the Privy Council prepared by Karam and reproduced as Appendix B to his book, an astonishingly large list of errors of fact.

One judge might well make the occasional slip in summarising the evidence in a case, but how can so many errors pass by three judges? This calls into question the soundness of a recent proposal by our Law Commission that factual issues should be decided by a small panel of judges. The Commission likens this to the practice in Belgium, but China would also be a relevant point of reference.

Work done by committees tends to be distributed among members, whereas in trials it is brought home to jurors that they are individually responsible for their decision. The Court of Appeal is over-worked and under-resourced, and its judges – all of whom are of high quality by international standards - are encouraged to bring in unanimous decisions in criminal cases. That is hardly an environment that will promote accuracy.

But the errors in the Bain case began much earlier, according to Karam's book. The police decided too quickly to charge David. They then sought evidence against him rather than being open to the alternative that Robin was the murderer. They failed to preserve, record or have analysed evidence that might have supported David's innocence, and at an astonishingly early stage after the first trial they destroyed evidence. Evidence that was disclosed to the defence before both trials was dumped on the defence in huge volume and in a disordered state, without indication of what was significant.

This is the second aspect that is of interest here: how can the prosecution be required to exercise its disclosure obligations fairly? In the adversarial system, where the trial is a contest with a winner and a loser, procedural fairness can be sacrificed for the sake of egotistical stratagems. Trials and appeals become contests between counsel, and between counsel and the bench, to see who is cleverest.

If you think Robin's full bladder eliminated him as a suspect, you won't think so after reading this book. Nor will you think that David turned on the computer. Nor that David put the washing on before going on his paper run. Nor that all victims except Robin were killed before David left on his paper run. You will be convinced that Robin left bloodstained footprints in the carpet as he shot the victims – David's feet were too big to have made them. Blood on Robin's hands (not available for analysis, but visible in tardily disclosed photographs) was consistent with coming partly from the bloody gloves he wore, and partly from splash-back from a victim as he held the rifle. Blood on Robin's trousers and on his shoes was consistent with his position as he pulled the trigger committing suicide, as was blood on the curtain by the computer. Robin was the psychological mess, not David. Robin fitted the profile of men who kill their families, and David didn't. The gurgling heard by David coming from one victim was of the kind that can occur after death, and the evidence of that possibility was stronger at the second trial than it had been at the first.

According to this book, there is no reliable evidence that David was the murderer. At one stage I thought that Karam's account of a green towel containing traces of Robin's blood and found in the laundry left open the possibility that David put it there after killing Robin. But Robin had an injury to his hand that would have bled, and that was probably sustained in the course of a fight with his younger son who had not been killed by the first shot Robin fired at him. Robin probably wiped blood from that wound on to the towel and left it in the laundry with his other blood soaked clothes, for David to put in the wash after his paper route.

It is so hugely unlikely that David was the murderer that, as Karam says, anyone suggesting the contrary had better put up compelling evidence. There is none. It would have to be as incontrovertible as a freely given confession by David, or a reliable eyewitness to the killings, or a video recording of them. If evidence of that kind had been obtained the case would not be one of inferences, or probabilities, but one of certainties. As it is, the probabilities are so enormously in favour of David's innocence that they amount to a certainty.

The community must be thankful for people like Joe Karam. We all are entitled to know that if the State makes an error and wrongly punishes us, we will be properly compensated. Unfortunately it is not always the State's own officials who can be relied on to provide that assurance.

Need the punishment fit the crime?

For those of us who do not need to worry ourselves over the intricacies of Australian constitutional law, Bui v DPP (Cth) [2012] HCA 1 (9 February 2012) makes a simple point.

It is that when on a successful prosecution appeal against sentence the appellate court imposes a more lenient sentence than it considers the sentencing court could have properly imposed, it is reflecting a sentiment behind the principle against double jeopardy.

"13 It has been explained that what is referred to as the rule against double jeopardy is a manifestation of the principles expressed in the maxim nemo debet bis vexari pro una et eadem causa (a person shall not be twice vexed for one and the same cause), which is the foundation of the pleas of autrefois acquit and autrefois convict ... .  The underlying idea is that the State should not be allowed to make repeated attempts to convict an individual thereby subjecting him to embarrassment, expense and ordeal and compelling him to live in a continuing state of anxiety and insecurity as well as enhancing the possibility that even though innocent he may be found guilty. The rule is properly understood as a value which underpins the criminal law." [case citations and internal quote marks omitted]

There is an interesting difference between the Criminal Procedure Act 2000 (Vic), ss 289(2), 290(3), and the Criminal Procedure Act 2011 (NZ), ss 251, 257. The former specifically directs the appellate court not to take into account any element of double jeopardy involved in the appellant being sentenced again, whereas the latter makes no mention of this.

I suppose that in assessing the results of the unspoken competition between law reform bodies to come up with the perfect criminal procedure laws, Victoria should be penalised on this point. At least that is so unless you think that, willy nilly, the offender should get the sentence he deserves, later if not sooner.

Kahneman’s Thinking, Fast and Slow

Everyone is reading Daniel Kahneman's "Thinking, Fast and Slow" (2011). A passage in a recent New Zealand Court of Appeal decision, the details of which are currently suppressed, raises questions about the right way to think about propensity evidence.

The case citation is [2011] NZCA 645 and the date of the decision is 14 December 2011. I will call it X v R. I will also adapt the quotation from para [34] of the judgment to comply with the order suppressing identifying particulars of the appellant:

"... it is an unlikely coincidence that Mr X, twice within a year, would be the hapless and innocent victim of being apprehended driving a car with [other people in it and also with evidence of criminal offending in it]. The evidence goes directly and cogently to the key issue: did Mr X know of the [items] found in the car he was driving on [the second occasion]?"

While the conclusion that the evidence had sufficient probative value to be admissible is intuitively correct, this form of reasoning entails several thinking errors of the kind that Kahneman discusses.

There is a tendency to draw strong conclusions from incomplete information (the "what-you-see-is-all-there-is" error). We are not told anything about the frequencies that matter in the above case: how frequently do people who are guilty of the present sort of offending have a previous recent incident of this sort of police apprehension, compared with how frequently do people who are innocent of offending of the present kind have a recent previous such apprehension?

There is a substitution error: we tend to answer difficult questions by answering a much simpler related question. Here it is easy to answer the question about the recent apprehension and to apply that answer to the more difficult question of guilt on the present occasion. This is closely related to another error.

Base-rate neglect is the error of neglecting statistical likelihoods in favour of accepting what could be causally possible. The other evidence in the case, relating directly to guilt on the present occasion, may significantly affect the strength of our tendency to see a causal connection between the first apprehension and the second.

Another error is the halo effect, or in the present context what might be called the devil's horns effect. Having learnt something bad about the defendant's behaviour on an earlier occasion, we are tempted to overemphasise this when we consider his present guilt.

Further, there is the narrative fallacy: we are tempted to accept what we can build into a story that makes sense, although the events may in reality be unconnected. The defendant may have been innocent on the earlier occasion through lack of knowledge of the presence of the things in the car. The coincidence may be real, but it does not suit the story we are tempted to build in which we cast the defendant as a recidivist.

This is similar to another error, the representativeness bias. Where only partial information is available we lean heavily on stereotypes.

For a review of Kahneman's book summarising these and other thinking errors, see the article in the New Zealand Listener, January 21-27, 2012, by David Hall.

In the above case, where the issue was the defendant's knowledge of the presence of the things in the car, it is easy to build a narrative in which the defendant, being ignorant on both occasions, was simply associating with people who were both his friends and offenders. That too would be a combination of thinking errors.

Courts too often make assumptions about likelihoods without inquiring into occurrences in the real world. The correct approach is Bayesian, as Kahneman – a leading psychologist and Nobel laureate – recognises. But that requires the effort of careful analytical thought rather than our preferred instinctive assessment of circumstances.

Admissibility of eyewitness identification evidence

Just as I was sneaking back to the Southern Hemisphere the Supreme Court of the United States delivered its decision in Perry v New Hampshire. I have previously noted the submissions that the Court received in this case on the vulnerability of eyewitness identification to error.

The reasoning is necessarily tied to the constitutional jurisprudence on due process, so I just summarise the effect of the decision in terms that may be of more general interest.

Sotomayor J dissented, but the majority held, in a decision delivered by Ginsberg J, that there is no need for a trial judge to have the power to exclude such evidence on grounds other than unfairness to the defence. Irregularities in the conduct of an identification can be the subject of trial remedies, such as confrontation and cross-examination, judicial caution to the jury about the need for care before accepting this evidence, and the judicial discretion to exclude the evidence if its illegitimately prejudicial effect outweighs its probative value.

That is a conservative approach. In our neck of the woods we have radically reformed the law: s 45 of the Evidence Act 2006 imposes a burden of proof of reliability on the prosecution where specified formal procedures have not, without good reason, been followed. The standard of proof here is beyond reasonable doubt. The defence may still challenge the admissibility of the evidence if formal procedures have been followed, but the burden is on the defence to prove on the balance of probabilities that the evidence is unreliable. These provisions are discussed in R v Edmonds [2009] NZCA 303 at [79]-[128] (sorry keen readers, not currently available online). The issue for the judge is whether the evidence is sufficiently reliable to go to the jury, not whether the evidence establishes identity to the relevant standard. Proof of reliability is distinguished from proof of identity, and the focus for the prosecution's burden is on the circumstances in which the identification was made. It does not include other evidence suggesting guilt, such as a confession.

There are issues concerning the interpretation of s 45 that remain to be explored. Its application in judge-alone trials has been considered by the Supreme Court: Harney v Police.

Extended secondary liability: assessing the risk

"Where 2 or more persons form a common intention to prosecute any unlawful purpose, and to assist each other therein, each of them is a party to every offence committed by any one of them in the prosecution of the common purpose if the commission of that offence was known to be a probable consequence of the prosecution of the common purpose."

So says s 66(2) of the Crimes Act 1961 [NZ], defining extended secondary participation in offending. The contentious phrase has been "a probable consequence", giving rise to arguments about whether a common intention to use one form of violence, for example, made the use of another more serious form a probable consequence. In turn this led to arguments that use of a knife was not a probable consequence of the use of, say, a common intention to use a baseball bat, or that use of a gun was not a probable consequence of, say, a common intention to use of a knife.

In Edmonds v R [2011] NZSC 159 (20 December 2011) the Supreme Court rejected continued development of this line of case law and directed a return to the words of the statute. 

Of course the same issues will continue to arise: was the common intention one which had the probable consequence of the commission of the offence in question? In violent offences the sort of weapon actually used will usually be relevant, but in a way that is directed to the probability of its being used as assessed from the point of view of the defendant who had the original purpose in common with the principal offender.

"[47] The  approach  of  New  Zealand  courts  to  common  purpose  liability  must  be firmly  based  on  the  wording  of  s  66(2).   That  section  recognises  only  one  relevant level of risk, which is the probability of the offence in issue being committed.  If the level  of risk  recognised  by  the  secondary  party  is  at  that  standard,  it  cannot  matter that the actual level of risk was greater than was recognised.  It follows that there can be  no  stand alone  legal  requirement  that  common  purpose  liability  depends  on  the party’s knowledge that one or more members of  his or her  group were  armed or, if so, with what weapons.  As well, given the wording of s 66(2), there is no scope for a liability  test  which  rests  on  concepts  of  fundamental  difference  associated  with  the level  of  danger recognised  by  the  party.    All  that  is  necessary  is  that  the  level  of appreciated risk meets the s 66(2) standard."

From this it is clear, or at least so it seems to me, that (i) the risk recognised by the secondary party is the risk he actually perceived, not the risk he ought to have perceived, (ii) if the secondary party perceives the risk as a "probable consequence" that is sufficient for his liability, (iii) the secondary party may recognise that risk without knowing that the principal party has a weapon, (iv) there are no gradations of the culpable risk - either the preceived risk is of a "probable consequence" or it isn't.

It follows that evidence of the alleged secondary party's knowledge of the possession of a weapon of a different kind from that actually used is relevant not as itself a criterion for liability but rather as material to whether those criteria are met.

This approach to extended secondary liability will apply by analogy to all offences, not just those involving violence. The central issue is whether the alleged secondary party had what amounted to a belief that commission of the actual offence was a probable consequence of the common intention to commit the originally intended offence. It will not be necessary to prove that the alleged secondary party knew that the principal had the means to commit the actual offence, but if he did know that the means existed that would be relevant to assessing whether he had the necessary perception of probable consequence.

As the Court points out (49), it is for the prosecutor to say what the alleged common intention was. The closer the commonly intended offence was to the commission of the offence that was actually committed, the easier it should be to prove that the latter was a probable consequence of commission of the former.

This decision puts extended secondary liability back on the statutory track, away from which the case law had allowed it to drift. However the role of the phrase "in the prosecution of the common purpose" in s 66(2) could still give rise to debate. In committing the offence for which extended secondary liability is contended, did the principal offender go outside - and bring to an end - the prosecution of the common purpose? Had commission of the commonly intended offence been abandoned? This sort of issue is not likely to arise in cases of violence, where the use of force can be seen as a continuum with the commonly intended offence merging with the one for which extended liability is in question. While Edmonds deals with an aspect of extended secondary liability, other problems in applying s 66(2) will need to be addressed.

Fair trials without central witnesses

It is possible for a trial to be fair without a central witness giving evidence in person and being cross-examined. The witness's evidence may be read at trial but the fact-finder may still have adequate means of testing the reliability of that evidence.

A fair trial is one where the law is accurately applied to facts that are determined impartially. Impartiality can exist when an unbiased fact-finder uses adequate means to assess the reliability and weight of the evidence.

It might be that there are corroborative witnesses who do give evidence and who can be cross-examined. There might also be a similarity between the evidence of independent complainants that is so unlikely to be coincidence that their mutual reliability is virtually assured. In such cases, where the defence can cross-examine the witnesses who support the absent witness, there may be found to be sufficient factors to counter-balance the absence of the central witness so that the defendant is not deprived of a fair trial.

But in other cases the absence of the central witness may not be counter-balanced. There may be no corroborative oral testimony. There may be no evidence that the defence could call to contradict the absent witness. In such cases the fact-finder may be unable to impartially assess the reliability of the absent witness, there being no one for the defence to cross-examine on the central issues.

The rule against hearsay, the exceptions to that rule, and the rule excluding evidence when its probative value is outweighed by the risk of improper prejudice to the defence, are the means by which the common law has endeavoured to ensure the fairness of trials when witnesses are not available for cross-examination. Often these rules have become statutory.

Over the last few years a storm gathered in Europe over this. The European Court of Human Rights had developed a rule that a conviction could not be based on the evidence of a witness who could not be cross-examined if the evidence of that witness was central to the prosecution case in the sense of being the sole evidence against the defendant or of being decisive evidence against him: Unterpertinger v Austria judgment, 24 November 1986, § 33, Series A no. 110. The UK Supreme Court criticised this rule in R v Horncastle [2009] UKSC 14 (noted here as an update to the entry on Al-Khawaja and Tahery v R [2009] ECHR 110, 27 January 2009), and only the most obtuse reader would fail to see that if the Grand Chamber did not allow the UK courts to continue to apply the discretionary approach rather than the Strasbourg rule, continued participation of the UK in European criminal law would be unlikely.

So inevitably Strasbourg yielded and departed from its rule. On appeal from the Chamber decision in Al-Khawaja and Tahery, the Grand Chamber held 15-2 that the rule did not apply where the law of a State contained sufficient safeguards: [2011] ECHR 2127 (15 December 2011).

The majority held that the underlying principle is that the defendant in a criminal trial should have an effective opportunity to challenge the evidence against him (127). The question was whether there were sufficient safeguards to secure the defendant's right to a fair trial (130).

"[142] ...  the defendant must not be placed in the position where he is effectively deprived of a real chance of defending himself by being unable to challenge the case against him. Trial proceedings must ensure that a defendant’s Article 6 rights are not unacceptably restricted and that he or she remains able to participate effectively in the proceedings. ... The Court’s assessment of whether a criminal trial has been fair cannot depend solely on whether the evidence against the accused appears prima facie to be reliable, if there are no means of challenging that evidence once it is admitted."

The phrase "not unacceptably restricted" is a bit alarming at first blush, suggesting perhaps that sometimes a restriction on the right to a fair trial will be acceptable. But this is not what was meant. The article 6 rights include subsidiary rights to the right to a fair trial, and restrictions on those have always been tolerated when necessary as long as they do not compromise the defendant's absolute right to a fair trial.

So, where there are restrictions, there must be adequate safeguards (145):

"Also, in cases concerning the withholding of evidence from the defence in order to protect police sources, the Court has left it to the domestic courts to decide whether the rights of the defence should cede to the public interest and has confined itself to verifying whether the procedures followed by the judicial authorities sufficiently counterbalance the limitations on the defence with appropriate safeguards. The fact that certain evidence was not made available to the defence was not considered automatically to lead to a violation of Article 6 § 1 (see, for example,Rowe and Davis v. the United Kingdom [GC], no. 28901/95, ECHR 2000 II). Similarly, in the case of Salduz, cited above, § 50, the Court reiterated that the right to legal assistance, set out in Article 6 § 3 (c) was one element, amongst others, of the concept of a fair trial in criminal proceedings contained in Article 6 § 1."

These safeguards must "counterbalance" the limitations on the defence (147):

"... The question in each case is whether there are sufficient counterbalancing factors in place, including measures that permit a fair and proper assessment of the reliability of that evidence to take place. This would permit a conviction to be based on such evidence only if it is sufficiently reliable given its importance in the case."

So when the majority speak of balancing the interests of the defence, the victim, witnesses and the public interest (146) as an approach to the overall fairness of the proceedings, that is a compendious way of referring to a two-stage assessment: first the balancing of competing interests in relation to subsidiary rights, and second the assessment of the effect of that balancing on the defendant's right to a fair trial.

The partly dissenting judgment of Sajo and Karakas JJ views the majority's counterbalancing approach as uncertain and inadequate protection of a defendant's rights, diminishing the value of human rights in Europe. That may be a little exaggerated, as there can be no doubt that the majority would agree with Sajo and Karakas JJ's dictum:

"While we understand the nature of the challenges faced by the prosecution when key witnesses die or refuse to appear at trial out of genuine fear, the protections guaranteed by Article 6 speak only to the rights of the defence, not to the plight of witnesses or the prosecution. The task of this Court is to protect the accused precisely when the Government limit rights under the Convention in order to bolster the State’s own position at trial. Counterbalancing procedures may, when strictly necessary, allow the Government flexibility in satisfying the demands of Article 6 § 3 (d). Our evolving application of the sole or decisive test, however, shows that this exception to the general requirement of confrontation is not itself without limits in principle. In the end, it is the job of the Government to support their case with non-hearsay corroborating evidence. Failure to do so leaves the Government open to serious questions about the adequacy of their procedures and violates the State’s obligations under Article 6 § 1 in conjunction with Article 6 § 3 (d)."

And their concluding quotation was from a New Zealand case, R v Hughes [1986] 2 NZLR 129 (CA) at 148-149:

"We would be on a slippery slope as a society if on a supposed balancing of the interests of the State against those of the individual accused the Courts were by judicial rule to allow limitations on the defence in raising matters properly relevant to an issue in the trial. Today the claim is that the name of the witness need not be given: tomorrow, and by the same logic, it will be that the risk of physical identification of the witness must be eliminated in the interests of justice in the detection and prosecution of crime, either by allowing the witness to testify with anonymity, for example from behind a screen, in which case his demeanour could not be observed, or by removing the accused from the Court, or both. The right to confront an adverse witness is basic to any civilised notion of a fair trial. That must include the right for the defence to ascertain the true identity of an accuser where questions of credibility are in issue."

Although statute has permitted the limitation of the right of a defendant to know the identity of a witness in certain limited circumstances, the right to a fair trial remains absolute in New Zealand, as no doubt it does in the United Kingdom.

Beyond the bounds of legal pragmatism

When an orthodox application of the criteria for criminal responsibility does not meet the requirements of public policy, the law must change. When it is left to judges to make the change, existing institutions or concepts are likely to be adapted to meet social requirements.

In R v Gnango [2011] UKSC 59 (14 December 2011) Lord Kerr dissented in his orthodox application of the principles of party liability. He held that neither primary liability as principal offender nor secondary liability either as an aider, abettor, counsellor or procurer, or by reason of extended secondary liability (the sort of common enterprise-gone-wrong that in this case all judges agreed to call parasitic accessory liability) applied to the facts.

The facts were simple and are found in the statement of the question of law that arose in this case:

"If (1) D1 and D2 voluntarily engage in fighting each other, each intending to kill or cause grievous bodily harm to the other and each foreseeing that the other has the reciprocal intention, and if (2) D1 mistakenly kills V in the course of the fight, in what circumstances, if any, is D2 guilty of the offence of murdering V?"

It was a gunfight. There was no room for extended secondary liability here because any agreement that D2 may have had with D1 could not sensibly include agreement that D1 should shoot at him.

So D2 could only be guilty if he was a principal or if he aided, abetted, counselled or procured D1 in the killing of V who was an innocent by-stander. It should be obvious that he was not a principal, as he did not actually commit the murder himself. This was not obvious to Lords Brown and Clarke, and neither but to a lesser extent to Lords Phillips, Judge and Wilson. But they were engaged in extending the law for policy reasons.

The difficulty with orthodox secondary liability was that in this case the jury had not been invited to consider whether there was an agreement that D2 would be shot at, so even if this absurd possibility were a potential basis for liability it was not relevant to this appeal.

D2 could not have aided (etc) D1 in the killing of V unless he had helped (etc) by agreeing to be shot at.

Lord Kerr was correct in orthodox terms to conclude that there was no basis in the circumstances of this appeal to hold D2 liable for the murder of V.

That conclusion was not good enough for the other judges.

Lord Phillips and Lord Judge, with Lord Wilson agreeing, took the extremely pragmatic approach of saying it doesn't matter whether D2 was a principal or a secondary party, he and D1 both acted dangerously in a public place and each should be held accountable for V's death. Either could have killed someone and it was just fortuitous that the person who fired the fatal shot was D1. These judges, and Lord Dyson, preferred the secondary liability route to responsibility but they agreed with Lords Brown and Clarke that principal liability could also be used as the basis for liability.

Nor does the jury have to agree on the basis for liability: it is the conclusion as to guilt that requires agreement, not the route to that conclusion (63).

Well, you can't just pluck someone out of an unruly mob and say this person could easliy have been the one who caused the relevant harm so he should be held responsible for it even if it is known that he didn't actually do it himself. Nor can you pretend that he intentionally assisted or encouraged the commission of an offence when there is no evidence he meant to help or encourage its commission. Yes, the law must further the interests of the community, but there must be a rational, formalist, basis for attributing responsibility for crime. Otherwise we will have a society in which judges can simply say we shouldn't let this person off so we will hold him liable.