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Experiences of Court

Researchers Jessica Jacobson, Gillian Hunter and Amy Kirby from the Institute for Criminal Policy Research (ICPR), School of Law at Birkbeck discuss their recently completed study about the experiences of victims, witnesses and defendants at the Crown Court. Follow them: @ICPRtweet 

exp_of_court

Our study was funded by the Economic and Social Research Council. We wanted to understand what it is like to appear in court as victim, witness or defendant and what factors determine whether proceedings are seen as fair and legitimate by the participants.

We conducted fieldwork at two Crown Courts and our findings were gathered primarily through interviews with victims, defendants and witnesses, supplemented by observations of trials and sentencing hearings and interviews with court staff, judges and barristers. By these means, we assessed victims’, defendants’ and witnesses’ comprehension of court proceedings, how fair they perceived the proceedings to be, how respectfully they felt they were treated by the courts, and the significance they accorded to proceedings.

Legitimacy of the court

We tend to think of the court as a place where ‘what really happened’ is established. In fact, court proceedings are a highly ritualised process of managing conflict between alleged wrongdoers and those allegedly wronged, in which the ‘truth’ often remains unknown and unknowable.

Attending court can be terrifying, humiliating, upsetting or frustrating; and many aspects of the process can be difficult to understand. Proceedings are often characterised by an intermingling of incongruous elements and a degree of chaos. And yet, the vast majority of witnesses, victims and defendants conform with the expectations and social rules of the process. This reluctant conformity seems to reflect an implicit belief in the legitimacy of proceedings. Verdicts or sentences thought to be unfair can undermine, but tend not to erase, the perceived legitimacy of the court process.

Our work with Victim Support

The criminal justice system depends on cooperation of victims and witnesses to report crime, and to give evidence in court. How they are treated is likely to affect their confidence and trust in the system.

We describe victims’ and witnesses’ experiences of court in a report, published in July in collaboration with national victims’ charity, Victim Support. It shows the effectiveness of much existing provision for victims and witnesses in helping them feel valued and supported. This includes separate waiting areas, away from the defendant, court familiarisation visits and the Witness Service, whose staff and volunteers help explain procedures and accompany witnesses to the courtroom. Overall, witnesses reported being treated respectfully but they found aspects of the court process frustrating, confusing and distressing.

Distress and anxiety

Most were anxious about coming face-to-face with the defendant or the possibility of reprisals for giving evidence. Despite this, they tended to come to court voluntarily, citing their motivation as sense of duty to protect others from becoming victims or to secure justice for themselves or for others.

Chance encounters with defendants did occur in the entrance to the court, in the smoking areas and the canteen, and were reported as one of the most distressing aspects of the witness experience.

Waiting

Waiting characterised much of the experience: lengthy waits for the case to come to court, then while at court to give evidence and sometimes for the sentence to be delivered. Witnesses were often given little warning to attend court or, conversely, late notice that a trial had been postponed; and they were not always told of the reasons for delays.

Understanding

Some did not understand the role of prosecution barrister, and thought he or she was acting on their behalf. This coupled with limited or no contact with the prosecution barrister heightened witnesses’ feelings of marginalisation and a sense that the defendant was getting a better deal.

Most nerves were reserved for cross-examination; the formal or legal language often posed difficulties and witnesses were appreciative of judges’ interventions to ensure they understood a barrister’s questioning or to prevent hostile or aggressive questioning.

Having your ‘day in court’

There was frustration about how their testimony or their story about what happened was inhibited by rules about admissibility of evidence or by the particular focus of the prosecution case.

What needs improving?

Respectful treatment makes the difficulties of coming to court more manageable, and helps reduce any sense of marginalisation. However, there is scope for support to be enhanced; for witnesses to be better informed about court processes, and to have their voices heard more clearly.

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Working elderly in India

This post was contributed by Dr Penny Vera-Sanso, Lecturer in Development Studies in Birkbeck’s Department of Geography, Environment and Development Studies and  V. Suresh of the Centre for Law, Policy, and Human Rights Studies, Chennai, India

In just three weeks the Photo Competition on the ‘Working Elderly’ became a people’s research project, revealing the widespread and diverse nature of older people’s work. With nearly 3,000 pictures up-loaded it is a permanent on-line record of older people’s work from across India’s mountains, plains, deserts, coasts, villages, towns and cities – an irrefutable documentation of what older people do and how they contribute to the economy, both locally and nationally.

Breaking coal for brick kiln Credit: Penny Vera Sanso and CLPHRS, Chennai

Breaking coal for brick kiln
Credit: Penny Vera Sanso and CLPHRS, Chennai

So far these pictures have drawn over 25,000 votes from thousands of visitors to the website and provide no hiding place for so many stereotypes of old age. Casual reference to ‘old age dependency’, ‘old age burden’, ‘people of working age’ as aged 15-59 years and the unthinking denigration of older people’s work as ‘passing time’, ‘helping out’ or ‘just…’ are now revealed to be more fiction than fact.

The photos show a huge range of work and could even be used as lessons in ‘how things are made’. The old woman picking cotton buds or cutting cane for brooms, the old cobbler sewing seals for large drains, the old rickshaw puller moving two-wheeler tyres from the manufacturer to the mechanic, the old man breaking and clearing ground for construction, the old gang-men who ensure that one of the world’s largest employers, India Railway, operates safely. The list is endless. And the conditions of work are diverse – too diverse to describe here.

Female basket weaver Credit: Penny Vera Sanso and CLPHRS, Chennai

Female basket weaver
Credit: Penny Vera Sanso and CLPHRS, Chennai

Yet despite the diversity depicted this isn’t the whole story. Most pictures have been taken of people as they work in public view and during the hours of the day the general population are awake.

However, our research (2007-10, 2012-3) reveals that in the middle of the night the elderly are working. To our surprise we found that long before younger hawkers arrive on the first bus elderly wholesalers, porters, hawkers and rickshaw pullers are working these markets in order that everyday necessities are available in every neighbourhood at the start of the day. We also found that the elderly sell tea and hot food to late night workers and suspect that older people are working at many other things while the nation sleeps.

Our research also revealed that many elderly people work in hospitals, schools, banks, factories, restaurants and offices as cleaners, porters, security, peons, ayyas, gardeners and in many other roles, yet they have not appeared in the photo entries so far.

What are the policy implications of such widespread working of elderly people? First, that the working elderly are doing vital work for the country and family. This work needs to be recognised for what it is and fostered. Second, the vast majority of elderly workers clearly live precarious lives in or on the edge of extreme poverty and many are doing work that eats into body and soul. What elderly workers need is a meaningful pension that will enable them to choose whether and how much to work and will empower them to refuse the most onerous and demeaning work.

Taking kids to school  Credit: Penny Vera Sanso and CLPHRS, Chennai

Taking kids to school
Credit: Penny Vera Sanso and CLPHRS, Chennai

Photos can be seen at www.thehindushutterbug.com. Voting closes 28 July.

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Public health in post-war Germany

The Perils of Peace The Public Health Crisis in Occupied GermanyThis blog post was contributed by Dr Jessica Reinisch, Senior Lecturer in European History in Birkbeck’s Department of History, Classics and Archaeology. Her new book, The Perils of Peace: The public health Crisis in Germany under Allied Occupation is published today.

The Anglo-American occupation of Germany is today often held up as the example of how to occupy a defeated country and has featured in debates about the occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan. At the time, however, the Allies’ attempts to run Germany hardly seemed to be a cause for celebration or self-congratulation. Much of the hygiene infrastructure had been destroyed and the population was in a state of disintegration, exhaustion and uncertainty. The country was divided into four occupation zones, one for each of the four powers of Britain, the United States, the Soviet Union and France, who pursued different policies and different objectives – soon to be at odds with each other. It was at the centre of the new Cold War division.

During the war German public health was a secondary consideration, an unaffordable and undeserved luxury. Once fighting ceased and occupation duties began, however, panics about epidemics turned ‘public health’ into a principal concern. It was became an indispensable part of their attempts to create order and keep the population governable. Later on, public health work provided a means (sometimes intentional, sometimes not) to return former Nazis into positions of influence. Public health was the crucible for decisions on how the defeated population should be treated, whether and how Nazism could be eradicated, and who should, and who could be, sought out among the Germans as collaborators and helpers.

On World Refugee Day (launched by the UN in 2000 to raise awareness of refugees and their plight across the globe) I want to consider the place of refugees as an important sub-plot in the story of the Allied occupation: a persistent, unavoidable and weighty one. Why? By the time the occupiers moved into their zones of Germany, the continent was already in the grip of one of the biggest (in the aggregate) population movements of the century. By some estimates over 60 million Europeans were moved involuntarily from their homes during the war and its aftermath. They included many different types of ‘refugee’: former slave labourers, concentration camp survivors, survivors of pogroms, evacuees, deportees, prisoners of war, expellees, as well as growing numbers of people fleeing from territories under Red Army control.

Germany was geographically and politically central to this movement. To the occupiers refugees represented multiple threats:

  • As obstacles on the roads and transport arteries they threatened to impede the movement of troops, military supplies and, later, occupation forces going into and out of the battlefields.
  • As potential disease carriers they threatened to carry infectious diseases to every corner of the globe. Memories of the influenza, cholera and typhus epidemics after the First World War provoked a real panic. In hindsight this proved to be largely unfounded. But the mass of displaced and dislocated people did contribute to two other health concerns: malnutrition and starvation; and rocketing rates of venereal diseases.
  • Anxieties about the refugees’ threat of civil unrest were also partly born out. In Germany, liberated slave labourers (who soon received the label ‘DP’, for Displaced Person) were known to seek revenge on their former masters, or to try to get ‘compensation in kind’ by stealing livestock, food and belongings. The occupation armies increasingly saw the DPs as a menace and tended to side with the local German population. Around 8 million of these DPs had to be repatriated to their home countries, which brought its own problems, as a significant number refused to go home to countries now under Soviet control. Some were sent home against their will, while others benefitted from the new Cold War divisions and found refuge in Western European countries or the United States.

Perhaps an even bigger headache for the occupiers was presented by the roughly 15 million ethnic Germans, whose expulsion from their homes in Czechoslovakia, Poland, Hungary, Romania and Russia was often accompanied by outbursts of revenge and violence; possibly as many as 2 million may have died en route to Germany. (These numbers are still fiercely contested). Many of the others arrived in poor physical states and with no means of support.

In 1945, the treatment of these different kinds of refugees was determined above all by whether they were Axis or Allied nationals, and in which post-war and (and, soon, Cold War) sphere of influence they resided. German and non-German refugees were entitled to different levels and kinds of international protection. Inside Germany each occupier also had differing resources, policies and methods of dealing with them.

Out of this chaos came the universalising ambition of the Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees (passed in 1951 and coming into force in 1954). It set out who was a ‘refugee’ (and who could not be, such as war criminals), as well as their rights, and the responsibilities of signatory states concerning their protection. It enshrined the principle of ‘non-refoulement’, that is, it prescribed that no refugees should be returned to any country where they faced a real risk of persecution.

It was a document based primarily on the experiences of Europeans, just at a time when Europe no longer was the main source of refugees. In practice the Convention has been applied to the rest of the world, particularly once the addition of the 1967 Protocol removed geographical and temporal restrictions, attempting to make it truly universal. However, today – 68 years since the end of the last world war, and 62 years since the Refugee Convention – the premise of universalism is being eroded. Earlier this year, Australia, a founding signatory, removed itself from the migration zone to deter asylum seekers arriving by boat; other countries have faced significant internal political pressure to do so. At the very least this is a sad reminder that international mechanisms are only effective as long as its members choose to abide by them.

Dr Jessica Reinisch was a recipient of the Wellcome Trust’s New Investigator Awards. Her new project, entitled ‘Reluctant Internationalists: A History of Public Health and International Organisations, Movements and Experts in Twentieth Century Europe’, will begin in September 2013.

[Homepage slider image credit: Deutsche Fotothek. “Muttertagsfeier im Unrralager”]

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Multilingualism in psychotherapy

Professor Jean-Marc DewaeleThis post was contributed by Professor Jean-Marc Dewaele, who presented on this topic at a conference earlier this month to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Department of Applied Linguistics and Communication. He originally contributed this blog post in 2013, when it won that year’s Equality and Diversity Research Award  from the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy for the paper Costa & Dewaele (2012).

Emotions play a crucial part in our daily lives. We share them, jokingly or seriously, in face-to-face interactions, in texts or emails, and this is a crucial social activity, which is crucial for our interpersonal relationships and our individual well-being.

It is much more difficult to communicate emotions in a foreign language (LX), because of gaps in the linguistic, pragmatic and sociocultural knowledge needed to express the full range of emotions.  LX users (and I’m one myself in English) can feel frustrated at not being able to project an accurate image of self. Interestingly, a majority of multilinguals report feeling different depending on the language they are using (Dewaele & Nakano, 2013). It typically takes a couple of months before LX users can be relatively confident that their communicative intentions in expressing emotions will be correctly decoded and that their capacity to infer the emotions expressed by their interlocutors is sound. The difficulty lies in the fact that as first language (L1) users we can express our own emotions precisely, and recognise other people’s emotions unerringly.  This sense of security is lost when having to communicate emotions in the LX (Dewaele, 2010).

I have explained in an earlier blog that emotion words can have a very different resonance in the different languages of a multilingual: swearwords typically don’t sound as offensive in an LX and expressions of love don’t sound as strong. A study on Turkish L1-English L2 bilinguals showed that emotional phrases presented in an L1 elicited higher skin conductance responses than the translation of these phrases in a L2 (Caldwell-Harris & Ayçiçeği-Dinn, 2009), in other words hearing Turkish taboo words made participants sweat more than the equivalent words in English.  It thus seems that the L1 is the language of the heart, while the LX often fulfills an intellectual function and is relatively emotion-free, creating a feeling of detachment or disembodied cognition (Pavlenko, 2013).  Research has shown that immigrants’ memories that were experienced in the L1 are generally richer in terms of emotional significance when recalled in the L1. When these L1 memories are recalled in an LX, some emotional intensity is lost.

This might not always be a bad thing, especially if the multilingual is talking about traumatic events like torture or rape.  It is crucial that psychotherapists are aware of this phenomenon.  Indeed, there are important psychotherapeutic implications of being multilingual both for the patient and for the therapist. Beverley Costa, director of the charity Mothertongue, was struck by a quote from a Greek-English-French participant in my 2010 book:

I think when I talk about emotional topics I tend to code-switch to English a lot. I remember when I was seeing a psychologist in Greece for a while I kept codeswitching from Greek to English. We never really talked about this…To my mind it may have been some distancing strategy. (p. 204).

Beverley contacted me to carry out a study on differences between monolingual and multilingual therapists.  The paper, which was published in 2012, showed that psychotherapists agreed that learning a language made them better attuned to other languages and to multilinguals. They also believed that through working across languages they had learned to think carefully about how they used language, to check understanding and to simplify their language. Although no therapist had tried out inviting other languages in to the therapy they were interested and saw the potential of trying this.  The judges from the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy who awarded us the Equality and Diversity Research Award (2013) particularly liked our recommendations for research, practice, training and supervision: “Firstly, it would be useful and interesting for further research to be conducted on language switching in therapy – how it is initiated and what it signifies. The second recommendation relates to practice. This research highlights the need for therapists to pay attention to the way in which the inherent self-disclosure is managed by the therapist who speaks multiple languages (…). It is also suggested that therapists consider if, when and how to initiate inviting languages they may not understand into the therapeutic space and the therapeutic implications of such an initiative. Finally, it is suggested that training of psychotherapists needs to include a component on the psychological and therapeutic functions of multi/bilingualism and underlying implications for therapy. Training and supervision for psychotherapists could also include practice for therapists to make formulations in different languages. With increasing numbers of multilingual people now accessing therapeutic services and becoming therapists, it seems timely for the curricula of psychotherapy courses and therapeutic practice for all therapists – mono and multilingual – to be revised in order to take into account the changing profile and language needs of users and providers” (Costa & Dewaele, 2012: 35).

The study and the award will be presented at the BACP Research Conference in Birmingham on 10-11 May 2013.

Other posts by Professor Dewaele:

References

Caldwell-Harris, C.L. & Ayçiçeği-Dinn, A. (2009) Emotion and lying in a non-native language. International Journal of Psychophysiology 71, 193-204.

Costa, B. & Dewaele, J.-M. (2012) Psychotherapy across languages: beliefs, attitudes and practices of monolingual and multilingual therapists with their multilingual patients. Language and Psychoanalysis 1, 18-40.

Dewaele, J.-M. (2010) Emotions in Multiple Languages. Basingstoke: Palgrave-Macmillan. doi:10.1057/9780230289505.

Dewaele, J.-M. & Nakano, S.  (2013) Multilinguals’ perceptions of feeling different when switching languages. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development 34 (2), 107-120. DOI: 10.1080/01434632.2012.712133

Pavlenko, A. (2012) Affective processing in bilingual speakers: Disembodied cognition? International Journal of Psychology 47, 405-428.

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