Certainly, on any view, life imprisonment must remain the maximum sentence—that is the maximum in the United States for federal offences where second degree murder is charged—but the key point is that the judge should have discretion. The Sentencing Council has done a terrific job of laying down guidelines—not tramlines—and the courts have shown themselves to be well able to dispense justice.
The case for reform becomes even clearer when we consider manslaughter, another homicide offence. Whereas, as I have indicated, the law of murder creates injustice for defendants, the law of manslaughter creates injustice for society. What is manslaughter? It can be committed in one of four ways, but just two of those are relevant for these purposes: unlawful act manslaughter and gross negligence manslaughter. The latter largely speaks for itself for these purposes, but let me explain what happens when a killing is the result of a defendant’s unlawful act—that is, one that all reasonable people would realise would subject the victim to the risk of some physical harm, albeit not serious harm.
Take this example. The defendant barges into a nightclub queue in Cheltenham. He has a string of criminal convictions for assault and criminal damage. In the queue, he is being drunk and obnoxious. He is insulting women for what they are wearing and telling them to get out of his way. The victim is the mother of two children. She works at nearby GCHQ and she is on a hen do. She politely asks the defendant to move to the back of the queue. His response is to say, “You silly cow; you need a slap.” He then strikes her repeatedly and hard to the side of the face with his open hand. She falls back, hits her head on the kerb and is knocked unconscious. The defendant runs off. The victim later dies, and the post-mortem shows that she suffered bruising—albeit no fracture—to her cheekbone and the fatal injury was caused by the impact on the kerb. The police arrest the defendant, who denies everything, but CCTV proves his guilt.
Under the law at present, that defendant can be charged only with unlawful act manslaughter, because the harm that he caused falls short of grievous bodily harm. The net effect is that he will be convicted of an offence that carries a far lesser stigma than murder and for which there is no mandatory requirement for a life sentence, and if he gets a determinate sentence, he will serve only half of it. Is that thug, I ask rhetorically, less culpable than the retired colonel or his wife? The only distinction is that the colonel intended to break a toe and the thug intended to commit a marginally less serious assault. In my view, that is a distinction without a difference—it is a distinction that is completely lost on the general public and, frankly, on me.
So, what needs to happen? This is not some academic exercise. Those two examples are not entirely artificial and they expose fundamental injustices. The first, as I have indicated, is to the victim, in the case of the colonel, and the second is to society in the case of the pub queue thug. The solution is clear: we need an offence of first degree murder that would encompass intentional killing only. I recognise the Law Commission, in 2006, wanted to add
“killing through an intention to do serious injury with an awareness of a serious risk of causing death.”
That is fine, and I understand it, but in my view it is a complexity that unnecessarily detracts from the simplicity of the proposal I put before the House.
An offence of first degree murder would simply and coherently communicate to the public the particularly heinous nature of the crime of taking life and would attract the special condemnation and opprobrium that that deserves. To paraphrase Colonel Tim Collins’ famous eve-of-battle speech in 2003, anyone convicted of such an offence would truly live with the mark of Cain upon them. That offence should also, as at present, attract a mandatory life sentence.
Under my proposal, second degree murder would encompass killing through an intention to do injury that is more than merely transient or trifling. In plain English: it would encompass killing through unacceptable violence and thuggery. That would include the colonel and the pub queue thug—people who committed a significant assault on others but who did not intend to kill. That category of offence would not require a mandatory life sentence. Instead, judges would be free to do justice, weighing in the balance all of the aggravating and mitigating factors. For clarity, that would not include the case of the most minor assault. Think of someone creeping up behind a person, playing a trick on them and flicking their ear as a piece of horseplay. That is technically an assault, of course, but is obviously very minor. If that person fell over and died that should remain as manslaughter.
So, where does that leave manslaughter? Manslaughter would remain predominantly focused on cases of gross negligence. That is, offences in which there has been no unlawful assault or intention to kill, but in which the negligence has been so dreadful as to become criminal. The advantage of that is that people get it; people would understand that—it chimes with common sense.
Those are not outlandish suggestions. Other jurisdictions—most obviously the United States—have two categories of murder. For murders in the US over which the federal Government have jurisdiction, life imprisonment is only mandatory for first degree murder. For second degree murder the mandatory sentence is described as
“a term of years to life.”
So why now? Because it is long overdue. The current distinction between murder and manslaughter is almost certainly more than 500 years old. No further general category of homicide has been developed in the intervening period, despite the fact that society, values and knowledge have changed out of all recognition.
The need for modernisation was obvious to our Victorian forebears. In this place, William Gladstone himself indicated his willingness to rationalise the law but nothing came of it—it keeps getting put off. That approach led one
cynical criminal lawyer to remark at the beginning of the 20th century that the hope of a criminal code being enacted by Parliament that would address the problems of the law on homicide was as remote as
“expecting to find milk in a male tiger”.
We cannot keep putting this off. Modernising this key area of law is, to borrow the words of the Law Commission
“an essential task for criminal law reform.”
It is time for this generation to take up the challenge and to create a law that is truly fit for the modern age.
1.40 pm