Highs and lows of sentencing

Eight months ago, I wrote about court sentencing disparities and I juxtaposed the seemingly over-the-top clichéd court sentences the public has come to expect for drug crimes with the frequent lackadaisical sentences delivered for say, involuntary homicide as a result of negligent, under-the-influence or dangerous driving.

Maybe the public has a right to be consulted about punishment after all- Michela Spiteri

My illustration wasn’t purely incidental. Although I didn’t really have any specific cases in mind, my thought process would most certainly have been fuelled by a subconscious dissatisfaction with the system through years of observation and experience. I am talking about the legislative system, of course, which ultimately translates into court sentencing and punishment.

To criticise individual judges or magistrates would be myopic and misplaced criticism at best.

Had I written the article a few months later, I might have drawn different parallels and may well have used animal cruelty as a backdrop for eliciting disproportionate sentencing comparisons. But as it happens, the article I wrote last April is more relevant today than it could ever have been then.

In a nutshell, the point I wanted to convey, is that dangerous driving which culminates in serious injury or death is, for the most part, more harmful, damaging and despicable than the majority of drug offences can ever hope to be.

You see, our legislators are ever so vigilant and zero tolerant when it comes to drug crimes on the pretext that they ruin lives, expose innocent children and families to untold danger and damage, and sometimes even death.

And yet, the minute legislators are actually made to look death in the face, possibly even as a direct result of these awful narcotics, they suddenly become impotent, lose their mojo and have this incredible knack of taking a sentencing back seat.

The way things stand, if you’re going to get caught, you’re probably better off getting totally high on crack, taking your car out for a spin and killing a 10-year-old, than you would be sharing a spliff or a few lines of cocaine with friends at home or peacefully minding your business, even if that business happens to be cultivating cannabis for fun and perhaps a few friends.

This is loosely what I had written back then: “The value of life is zealously protected if it’s about drugs, but when faced with its actual loss, life is suddenly disposable and it becomes OK to suspend justice. Awarding suspended (or minimum) sentences to drivers who kill unsuspecting victims as a result of excessive speeding is something we’ve unfortunately grown very accustomed to.

“To equate drug suppliers with the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang child-catcher who offered lollipops and ice creams for free in the hope of ensnaring innocent children, is frankly, risible. Because, contrary to what people may think, when someone sells you drugs, you do have a choice in the matter... But when someone speeds, for whatever reason, and in the process kills someone, the deceased has absolutely no choice in the matter.”

I am not sure whether I am making myself clear. If I came across as soft and mushy about drugs, it’s purely a reaction to how most other crimes and their punishment pale in comparison. Drugs seem to have attracted the undivided attention of our legislators, which perhaps leaves them little time for anything else.

And yet, I find their imagination wanting. Legislators are sorely isolated from the grander scheme of things. Drug crimes should not and can no longer exist in a social, cultural or environmental vacuum.

The UK seems to have cottoned onto the bigger picture. The Sentencing Council, an independent body responsible for developing guidelines, recently launched a public consultation process for drug crimes, aimed at establishing draft guidelines for sentencers to use and follow in respect of drug offences.

The proposals put forward demonstrate a number of innovations. They’ve learned that deterrence as the basis of drug sentencing is, in fact, ineffective. They’ve understood that sentences awarded to street dealers, couriers and mules are excessive and largely disproportionate to their culpability.

They’ve recognised that cultivation of cannabis (a Class C drug) should attract a maximum four to six-year custodial sentence. The most serious drug crimes attract a civilised 12 to 16-year punishment range, which compares favourably with the 14-year maximum the UK guidelines proposed in respect of the four death-by-driving-offences – that is, where death ensues as a result of dangerous, intoxicated, negligent or unlicensed driving. Here, besides a minimum two-year licence disqualification, re-taking the driving test would be compulsory.

The public’s response to our Mad Max(imilian Ciantar) road warrior and the more recent Daniel Holmes case was interesting on many levels.

It confirmed an acute frustration and dissatisfaction the public feel with regard to the inadequate way punishments are meted out and justice is being dispensed, whether it’s about a boy, a dog or a drug. It’s punishments not judges which need to change. Maybe the public has a right to be consulted after all. That might be one possible way forward.

You see, when it comes to punishment, much of it is about making the community a safer place. While Holmes could not and should not have walked away Scot free, I’d have felt happier knowing he was inside for two years and much safer knowing the Road Rager was locked away for another 10.

But perhaps I’m mad or just terribly biased. I abhor dangerous driving. It’s the true mark of bad-breeding. All I think is, ‘what if it were my son who very nearly met his maker that day because some jerk was insouciant enough to drive like that’?

And then, to add insult to the worst type of injury, to not even stop his car and offer assistance. Let’s not even talk about what happened after he left prison. Give me a laid back stoner and his plants any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

michelaspiteri@gmail.com