Friday, July 24, 2015

Media Ethics

Who is presenter Jon Donovan, ‘relatively new presenter to channel 4’?  Good question. As I was standing with him in a shopping centre in East London yesterday (23 July 2015) miked up and with 3 cameras on us I should have known. We were on a stage where Jon was quizzing me about profiling, stereotypes, criminology etc in a rather random and forceful way that puzzled me and did not put me at my ease. It was as if central casting had been asked to supply an Aussie Ron Burgundy. He was large, tanned and wearing a suit of a nasty colour and material (stereotypes I know).

Scroll back to last Friday when I received a call from an Assistant producer at an independent television production company asking if I could help with a show. The subsequent email said:
The show will examine attitudes towards contemporary issues such as prejudice, inequality and globalisation. This coming Thursday 23rd July we are filming a short VT in a shopping centre in Barking where our presenter will be exploring issues concerning modern security methods in large public spaces. I wanted to get in touch with yourself to see if you might potentially be interested in accompanying our presenter in the centre for an hour or so to talk about broad and general topics regarding criminality. For example such issues as the psychology of potential shoplifters and criminals, 'what makes people steal?', along with how the centre might go about improving its methods of prevention. 

After some more some calls a further email elaborated:
Our presenter will be discussing modern security methods and prevention in general with the help of the security team at the centre. We thought it might be nice if you could accompany him for an hour or two to provide some additional background on criminality and the psychology behind why people might commit crimes (and any other broad questions regarding crime psychology and crime in general he might ask). This would most likely entail the two of you walking and talking through the centre together. I must stress we will be very flexible on the day and do not need to stick to a strict schedule. The whole team will be on hand to help with any questions or breaks in filming. A new item that we would like to explore is a quick a social experiment in the centre. We would cast 4/5 people to stand in a line up (all from different backgrounds) and ask a member of the public to point out who they think might have a previous criminal record or might be a potential shoplifter. We wondered if you would be able to help commentate with our presenter any potential preconceived prejudices that the general public might harbour and bring up. We think this might make for an interesting area to discuss.
As a sociological, cultural and media criminologist I thought it necessary to point out in my email by reply that:
As a sociologist of crime very happy to talk about stereotyping and labellingas criminologist very happy to talk about the history of criminology in which Cesare Lombroso claimed he could tell a shoplifter from a rapist etc - the shape of ears, eyebrow etc to tattoos!but I am not a psychologist - though could speculate on mental processes along with the bestAlso one specialism of mine is crime and media so can talk about how crime/criminals/victims represented in media.
I also provided a link to information about men/women and shoplifting.

I never got to walk about the Mall discussing, ’modern security methods in large public spaces’ but after an hour and half delay whilst I was entertained in a nearby Cafe I only got to interact with Jon. We were on stage to engage in the ‘social experiment’ of asking a member of the public to chose which of 5 extras looked like a ‘crim’. I hope they got paid more than the £50 I had eventually been offered.

The centre’s footfall must have been doubled by the crew that day but ‘Betty’, an older woman, was found to look at the line up and she duly chose one man, for his ‘scowl’ and ‘hoodie’. The ‘diversity’ quotient of the shoot was immeasurably improved by the line up since as the whole production team were eager young white men, save one woman co-ordinator.

I had been taken back by Jon’s ‘just-time-travelled-from-the-80s’ appearance and style and recalled that my Google search of his name had revealed nothing. I was even more taken aback when he introduced me as someone who could tell a ‘crim’. My feeble attempts to correct or inform were brushed aside. I felt unhappy and in a break in filming signalled my disquiet to the associate producer but carried on.

Things got worse and in discussing Betty’s choice I found myself saying that my smile hid my criminality and that monks often used hoods to disguise their intent.  I broke off again and this time spoke to the Director and Executive Producer at length.

At this point they admitted that Jon was an Iranian actor (so the Saddam black hair was not dyed as I'd thought) hired to play Jon as he was to try and engage a younger audience with the issues of stereotyping. He was no Ali G or even Philomena Cunk. I felt that I had been deceived and for no good purpose. The link to Cunk’s work is particularly relevant as, had my teaching not come first, I was slated to be the ‘expert’ in that show. But it would have been clear at the start I was dealing with a character and could have ‘improv’ed back. One of the reasons that my ripostes to Jon were so feeble was the underlying politeness that even I possess. Had I been told he was acting I’d have been more robust. Had I been up against another contributor I’d have engaged.

Real ethical issues I believe. But also there are production values too.  Despite the size of the crew the whole thing felt as downmarket as the shopping centre and I suggested that their hopes of a Channel 4 slot seemed unlikely and that it felt more 5 or worse. I felt bad. My paranoid egotistical self was telling me I’d been set up, slightly more rationally perhaps Jon was being set up and even more rationally that (and the many delays suggest) that cock-up not conspiracy was at work here.

They had no idea what a criminologist was, they were making up too much of it on the hoof and had not thought the whole thing through. But despite my inner turmoil and because I’d taken 4 hours out of my day (including travel) I wanted to do a good job (adding to the turmoil) I relented and agreed to try and sign off and then review the footage and do voice over or piece to camera. So I return to the stage and now I act as if I have seen a succession of people having chosen a ‘crim’ before warning of the dangers of stereotyping, thanking Jon and expressing sorrow that I’d not been able to persuade him. As I left a young woman was stepping up to take part in the 'social experiment'.

I wait now to see whether I am asked for my bank details so they can pay me and whether they do make good on their offer of some sign-off on what footage they use and how. I also need to think whether to accept the money or ask for more. And, in a spirit of transparency, acknowledge I got my train fare, coffee and bottle of water without demur.

We wait to see how they respond to this post and whether the show (whatever that is) sees the light of day.

Jon has a future playing egotistically deluded presenters for sub prime TV. I may have just auditioned for part of egotistically deluded 'expert'.


Update - TV company have phoned me, super apologetic and recognise their failures towards me and in the concept. They reasure that no use will be made of the footage - at least two of the cameras should have shots of me looking bemused at minimum - without my consent.  We agree fee to go to Reporters Without Borders.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Book Review Media Representations of Police and Crime: Shaping the Police Television Drama


As a child growing up I watched Dixon of Dock Green. I like, in retrospect, to think that I was aware, even then, that the cosy world depicted was not a true picture of policing or society. Later I may have been more beguiled by the ‘realism’ of Z Cars but by Softly Softly had largely given up. But early episodes of the The Bill and later The Cops showed promise. All of these and more are mentioned by Colbran.

She is a former scriptwriter on The Bill which is at the centre of her book (based closely on her PhD) which analyses the social contexts of production of a series, the media sociologies, the shifting patterns of media organisation, finance and regulation which shape what programmes get produced, the story-lines and dramas and issues.  Her argument is that criminologists have hitherto paid too little attention to the media context side of the equation as compared to the representational aspects. She shares this with Anita Lam’s Making Crime Television: Producing entertaining representations of crime for television broadcast (my review in Crime Media Culture here) to whom she refers. Where Lam favours Latour’s Actor Network Theory Colbran favour’s Du Gay’s ‘circuit of culture’.
The analysis is set in a history of TV cop shows, their evolving forms and contents, and concluded with a series of reflections on other cop shows which have followed in the wake of the Bill or which have reacted against its forms of representing the police.  Between this introduction and conclusion is a detailed ethnography of TV script production and programme management - set in the context of a political economy of broadcasting - and substantial interviewing illustrating the themes of TV cop show production.  Those short of time might start at Chapter 3.
The book is interesting, fascinating and insightful with its particular focus upon fictional TV representation of crime and policing which may limit its appeal to pure criminologists but she recently entertained the joint meeting of the Southern Branch of the British Society of Criminology and the LSE Mannheim’s Centre. It should be of interest to students of policing and we wait to see if The Bill becomes as canonical as Dixon.  If so Colbran can take much credit. It should be of greater interest to media and cultural studies students. There is a problem about the canon though, and she sets this all out, is that there have been a number of iterations of the show - from gritty realism; to soapy, to slavish devotion to the bottom line. Her research in the latter era looks back to an earlier era when she rode along and had the time to research that some jobbing academics might envy. Reality might trump story but not now - and not at all now the show has ended.
A major criticism for me - which shows I’m not a proper academic - is that she is too keen to appear to be a proper academic. To this end she has chosen a highly structured hierarchic schema to ensure that ‘I’s are dotted etc. The very talents that enabled her to write and act appear to have been suppressed. There are a number of stories to tell here (and we get snippets) but a bolder work would have pleased me more, if not her supervisor.
I shall return to this subject with a closer reading. Tune in next ....


Sunday, May 31, 2015

Why Paris lock ban should interest criminologists including green ones.

The only time the bridges of Paris feature in Criminology is usually in the quote from Anatole France 


La majestueuse égalité des lois, qui interdit au riche comme au pauvre de coucher sous les ponts, de mendier dans les rues et de voler du pain
In its majestic equality, the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges, beg in the streets and steal loaves of bread.
which reminds us that structural inequalities control our lives as much as, if not more than, the law; and that all people might commit crimes but not all might need to.

Its not what's going on under the bridges of Paris but on the balustrades and railings of the bridges.  I first spotted these on the Hohenzoller Bridge in Cologne which their tourist industry seems to support - but it is a very much bigger bridge.

I recently visited Paris (see my pictures below) and many bridges and even places near bridges had locks attached. But now the authorities are showing a renewed determination to remove them. (http://edition.cnn.com/2015/05/30/travel/paris-love-locks-bridges-feat/

The article linked above mentions safety issues - a part of the Pont des Arts bridge collapsed in June last year and tourist issues.  The estimated 700,000 locks weigh the same as 20 elephants

Criminologists of the mundane might note:
'Graffiti, pickpockets and vendors selling cheap padlocks also became a problem'
And I was very much taken with the 'drug dealer' like way in which I was offered locks by the same, or similar, young men who during showers offered to sell one umbrellas and water during sunny periods.  

Other takes/critiques are possible. Grumpy me thinks, 'Stupid sentimentalism'. Feminist me thinks 'stupid romantic ideologies but at least not specifically heteronormative'.  Socialist me thinks about the consumption of unnecessary items. Which reminds green me that this means the production and consumption of crime prevention devices for non-crime prevention.

Whilst cultural criminology might see the locks as some form of resistance  - to the City authorities if not to commerce - akin to graffiti but green criminology might see a form of littering or a failure to recycle. A green crime whereby if you lock it you've lost it!

Locks by SeineBoarding up Pont des Artsfrench workers repair lock damaged bridge 2french workers repair lock damaged bridge 1

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Election Fever/Crime Fiction

Sense About Science claim the party’s manifestos contain too much ‘crime fiction’.  Their report ‘Making Sense of Crime’ is available at http://crime.senseaboutscience.org

This blog set out a summary of  that work but with some additional comments.

The general election manifestos of five of the UK’s biggest parties contain sweeping claims about the causes of crime and the best policies to reduce it. Their experts warned that such broad statements are nearly always wrong, and are calling on politicians to stop misleading voters.  Sadly only ‘Crime Scientists’ seem to have been asked; sociological criminologists might agree with much in the report but could have added some nuance.
They offer these ‘insights’:
  • Most types of crime are falling across developed countries and have been for around 25 years, so individual policies don’t have a big effect [‘most types’! lot of argument about this one]
  • The most effective ways to cut crime might lie outside the criminal justice system [agreed]
  • Crime isn’t caused by a single factor such as unemployment, poverty, bad parenting, government cuts or influences such as video games [‘society’ that where they missed the sociological input!]
  • ‘Criminals’ aren’t a separate group from the rest of society [‘society’ that where they missed the sociological input!]
  • Police statistics are not the best way to judge crime rates [that’s criminology 101!]
They want to encourage people to use the ‘crime exaggeration checklist,’ published alongside the guide, to spot misleading statements on crime by politicians, commentators and think tanks, such as:
  • The fall in violent crime over the past decade is due to my policies [or recent and local rises?]
  • [This thing] is the main cause of crime [genes, parents (for which read mothers), psychopathy, nutrition, immigrants, ‘the media’ (by other media) or videogames (by ‘the media’), song lyrics etc] 
  • Criminals are different to the rest of us [show me the person who hasn’t committed some crime OR been the victim of one]
  • I know [this policy] will reduce crime [throwing away the keys to ‘love and peace’]
  • Prison works [how may essays have I set on that?]
  • Prison doesn't work [define ‘work’ and on what it is meant to be working?]
The checklist will help members of the public who care about crime policy to question the evidence behind such broad claims, at the 2015 election and whenever new crime policy is announced. This puts public figures on notice that they won’t get away with misleading people on crime with policies that contradict the most reliable evidence.
The manifestos contain broad promises to cut crime by putting more bobbies on the beat (Labour Paragraph 4, Page 51), introducing tougher prison sentences (Conservatives Bullet point 2, Page 58) or tough community sentences (Liberal Democrats Paragraph 1, Page 123), reducing unemployment (Green Party Paragraph 1, Page 76) and deporting foreign criminals (UKIP Paragraph 3, Page 55).
This my take on these: most criminologists will know of the work on the effectiveness or otherwise of beat policing and current events in the USA should remind us that not everyone finds the presence of police reassuring.  Moreover, police on beat aren’t going to catch the paedophiles that the media encourage us to think about nor any cybercriminals or perpetuators of violence against women in the home.
At the risk of outrunning the evidence I’d say prisons work very well at smashing up people’s lives and that doesn’t help victims whose lives have been smashed nor does it seem likely that damaged people are going to make model citizens.
I used to work in the Home Office Probation Division 25 years ago and we knew then that community sentences could be effective – if properly resourced, monitored and evaluated – but that they needed ‘selling’ to magistrates and the public and media as ‘tough’.  This sounds like more of that.  A pledge to renationalise the Probation Service and properly fund it would be of greater assistance.
Reducing unemployment would be a good thing in its own right but is no panacea.  Some of the biggest crimes require you to have a job.  Unemploying a few bankers might have prevented much crime.

And finally, I also worked in the Home Office’s Immigration Department as a caseworker granting or refusing immigrants leave to remain and eventually considering the deportation of foreign criminals.  I’d be interested to know how much money UKIP propose to spend on rounding up immigrants, what powers and uniforms they’d give them and what about the return of many British criminals to the UK when the countries of the European Union throw them out?

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Graphic Justice Intersections of Comics and Law


Intersections of Comics and Law 


I asked Thomas Giddens (graphicjustice.blogpost.com) the editor to introduce this book.  As you’ll see I have a chapter in here. Twitter handles and links included.
We are surrounded by emanations of graphic storytelling: comics-inspired films fill our cinemas; prose narratives become adapted and transported into graphic novels; graphic novels become computer games and television series; superhero merchandise fills the shelves of supermarkets and clothing stores. Feeding from this wide cultural significance, this collection of essays examines the multi-faceted intersections of comics and law. Although there has been increased engagement with literature, film, popular culture, and even ‘the visual’ in general within legal studies (though see S Greenfield, G Osborn and P Robson, Film and the Law: The Cinema of Justice), despite the medium’s recent surge in cultural capital the significance of graphic fiction to law remains conspicuously under researched (though see 2012 special issue on ‘Justice Framed: Law in Comics and Graphic Novels’ in volume 16 of Law Text Culture and T Giddens, ‘Comics, Law, and Aesthetics: Towards the Use of Graphic Fiction in Legal Studies’ (2012) 6 Law and Humanities 85) On its most basic level, the significance of comics to law can be couched in these terms: comics are an overt and widespread part of contemporary society and culture, and law is in part an attempt to regulate that society and culture and in part a reflection of its values; therefore, an understanding of the intersections of comics with law is important in making sense of law and its place in today’s world. But this very general observation is just the beginning.

Even glancing at the mainstream surface of comics, diverse issues of justice and social order are instantly apparent. Batman, Daredevil, Spider-ManThe Justice League of America—all these narrative worlds navigate issues of right and wrong, of morality, of retribution and vengeance, of methodologies of control. Theirs are worlds populated with good and evil, with power and responsibility, with duty and moral choice. But this, too, is only a start. Even lightly scratching at this mainstream surface, one finds a raft of non-superhero narratives. Some of these, like stories in other media, are stories directly about law and justice (crime narratives, legal dramas); others are about making difficult moral choices. Others tap into deep metaphysical questions about the nature of self and what it means to be human in the first place. Like other narrative forms—literature, film, theatre—comics and graphic fiction try to explore and express the multiple and complex dimensions human life.

Are we there yet? No, far from it. The content and themes of graphic fiction may be richly vast and diverse, but there is more to comics than their content. Narratives can be told in many different ways, using many different tools and devices. A simple oral tale has a certain quality, and related limitations. A huge cinematic production similarly has its own set of capacities. This is not to suggest that these forms are static and unchanging—innovative creators can challenge the way a form is used, or expose previously untapped dimensions. But the form of a narrative shapes its meanings; the way a story is told is part of that story. Meaning derives from form as well as content. Graphic fiction is a particular form of narration, and one that (like many things in this world) is not easy to define. But the complexities inherent in the comics form itself can provide avenues for conceptualising and engaging with issues in legal theory, notably around the relationships between words and images, and the limits of textual representation. Indeed, as our opening chapter ‘Lex Comica’ demonstrates, comics can even be used as a direct vehicle for legal theory.

From what has been said so far, it is apparent that the significance of comics to law is not simple or unitary, but is complex and multi-faceted. Accordingly, the aim of this collection is to demonstrate (albeit in a necessarily preliminary way) some key examples of the ways in which law and comics interact. On, through, between, and within the pages of this collection a picture will emerge of the vast and varied potential of comics and graphic fiction for critical reflection on the concerns of law and justice.

Part One gives a brief collection of examples of how comics can contribute to legal debate in a number of areas, from doctrinal copyright law, to legal ethics, education, public discourse, and legal philosophy. Beyond form and content, even beyond broad cultural significance, Kim Barker (@BabyLegalEagle) examines the comics form from a very legal perspective. Unpicking the complex intellectual property rights in a work of comics is not simple, and through her analysis of this complexity Barker demonstrates that understandings of comics in copyright law, particularly around online user generated content and the copyright that can rest in specific characters (including, absurdly, the Batmobile) can lead to a blurring of fundamental copyright principles such as the distinction between ideas and expressions that has shaped intellectual property law for over a century.

Continuing the focus on the traditionally legal sphere, Graham Ferris and Cleo Lunt look at issues of legal representation in comics. Representation, for Ferris and Lunt, is a dual problem: it is about both the way graphic fiction portrays lawyers and their work to the public (and, importantly, to potential future lawyers), and the ethics of advocating for (that is, ‘representing’) guilty clients. As they argue, the fictional world of heroic comics may have important significance in their portrayal of the world of the legal profession, but works such as Daredevil need to develop a more sophisticated depiction of the ethical difficulties involved in representing the guilty.

Another mainstream legal issue is taken up by Richard Glancey (@RichardGlancey) in the following chapter. He is concerned with the education of the students on his undergraduate Constitutional Law module, specifically with the difficulty that is often present when it comes to comprehending the theoretical complexities of core concepts. But comics may also have unique benefits to legal education—in steps Judge Dredd, adding a significant experiential dimension, bringing to life ideas such as the rule of law and the separation of powers that can springboard students into deeper understandings of these important concepts.

Continuing the theme of using comics to communicate legal issues and ideas, Shawn HE Harmon shows how futuristic science fiction can be specifically developed and deployed to increase both public understanding and engagement with bioethical issues. Telling the story of his own involvement in a project to do just that, his chapter demonstrates the potential for graphic fiction to both articulate and participate in legal discourse.

Futuristic science fiction has additional critical importance, as Thomas Giddens’s chapter shows through its philosophical reflection on the uncertain boundary between human and machine in Shirow Masamune’s The Ghost in the Shell. This issue is important for law, because law is both created and applied by humans as well as being reliant upon knowing what a human is for the construction of key legal doctrines (such as murder, or the difference between person and property). But, as this chapter argues, the human is fluid and not easily pinned down.

Part Two moves to specifically consider one of the most prominent themes apparent in graphic fiction: crime and criminal justice. Looking to the cultural dimensions of crime and how it is mediated through fiction, specifically the communal and social experience of being part of mainstream US comics readership, Nickie D Phillips (@nickiep) and Staci Strobl  (@Staci_Strobl) examine the concept of deathworthiness through the retributive lens of Cry for Justice and Red Team. Drawing rich links between the notions of justice and desert that these two series articulate and the popular discourse around the real-world killing spree of Christopher Dorner, Phillips and Strobl ultimately show how the narratives of comics are a deeply significant way in which many people process and make sense of complex questions of morality.

In the following chapter, Angus Nurse blurs the seemingly clear division between retributive and restorative justice through his analysis of 100 Bullets. In a world of inequality, where the powerful and those who ‘have’ make the rules in their own interests, and justice remains elusive for those who ‘have not’, taking the quintessentially restorative move of giving the victim the ability seek their own personal justice becomes a meaningful alternative to official pathways. Through Nurse’s analysis, he builds up a picture of an extreme restorative justice, which often spills over into retributive violence and unsettles the boundary between the two.

Turning away from the notion of retribution, James Petty (@petty_theft) examines a classic of the comics form: Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’s Watchmen. In his rich conceptual analysis of this work, inspired by cultural and visual criminology, Petty demonstrates how the superhero genre, when deployed with the skill of auteurs such as Moore, can effect a radical critique of western ideologies of justice and violence, and deeply question whether the existence of these spandex-clad guardians of justice would actually make the world a better place.

Perhaps worryingly following Watchmen’s unsettling warning, Nic Groombridge (@criminology4u) gives a provocative discussion of people actually trying and take up the mantle of the costumed vigilante—but rather than bringing justice to the world (whatever that might mean, as Boge will highlight in Chapter 13) there seems to be something ineffectual about the would-be heroes Groombridge considers. Regardless, focusing on the use of the superhero in UK fathers’ rights protests, Groombridge ultimately communicates the cultural resonance of the superhero in individuals’ approach to understanding how to achieve justice outside the official system and the need to deepen our understanding of such phenomena.

Part Three takes on a distinctly international flavour, focusing on questions of international law, global justice, and human rights atrocities. Chris Comerford kicks us off by pointing out the connections between Barak Obama and Batman, specifically in terms of their deployment of Agamben’s state of exception. Focusing on Obama’s executive assassination of Osama bin Laden and the development of Batman Incorporated, both of which rely upon the necessity of exceptional action to justify their extreme measures, Comerford suggests that such exceptional actions (to paraphrase the Dark Knight himself) might be what we need, but not what we deserve.

And still levelling critique in Obama’s direction, Chris Lloyd examines the US President’s controversial drone programme and his killing of US citizens without charge or trial—an examination articulated through the critical and deeply satirical art of 2000AD’s authoritarian lawgiver Judge Dredd. Taking his journey with Rancière, Benjamin and Derrida, Lloyd draws out the problematics surrounding Obama’s becoming (like Dredd) a terrible conflation of judge, jury and executioner, an authoritarian vision warned against in political philosophy and the critical art of Dredd.

Turning from Obama to a more general analysis of international justice, Chris Boge capitalises on the potential for superhero narratives to help us explore the complex problems of that elusive legal concept, ‘justice’. Focusing on two Justice League series, and deploying insights from post-colonialism, international law, practical ethics and human rights discourse, he highlights the vast complexity exposed even by seemingly ‘straight-forward’ or ‘non-reflexive’ visions of superhero justice, pondering on the difficulty in understanding what global justice might look like.

Finally, stepping back from analysis of graphic fiction, Jérémie Gilbert and David Keane consider how graphic fact (specifically, comics aimed at reporting on real-world human rights atrocities) might be a real force for international justice. Examining issues in human rights reporting and the seminal graphic reportage of Joe Sacco, amongst others, Gilbert and Keane clearly identify both a growing body of journalistic comics and the human enrichment that the medium can bring—particularly to the reporting of events such as the deep trauma of mass rights violations.

So ends the collection of essays in this volume. As can be seen, we have come a long way: from the doctrinal view of comics as regulatory objects within intellectual property law, through concerns of representation, education, communication, and philosophy, across the complex role of comics in understanding crime and criminal justice and the tensions between reality and fiction, to the value of comics in understanding issues of a truly global significance: exceptional executive violence and international concepts of justice, and ultimately to the use of comics not simply as a tool or object of analysis, but as a meaningful and important participant in the protection of humans against mass harm. The aim of this volume, if it is not already clear, is to demonstrate and showcase the diverse potential for comics and graphic fiction to enrich the various discourses of law, justice and legal studies. But rather than examining the legal potential of comics in the abstract, for the most part the papers in this collection ‘argue by doing’. As we have seen: on, through, between, and within its pages you will find rich seams of analysis engaging many themes important to law and justice—and importantly, these are undertaken with comics and graphic fiction as a not-so-silent analytical companion.

It is hoped that following these analyses, when observing a collection of superheroes or their proliferating merchandise, no longer will it simply be a hoard of dazzling superficiality or childish nostalgia that is seen—but a complex array of conceptual models and critical engagements relating to legal theory and the meaning of justice; no more will the comics aesthetic be pushed from your critical radar as a distraction or mere entertainment—but will be sought out as a source of critical inspiration, example, and insight; never again will the combination of words and images simply mean crude, childish escapism—but will signal the complex limits of law’s language and of legitimate knowledge; no more shall legal discourse be constructed only through text—but will be populated by and articulated through engagement with the richly constructed panels and pages of graphic fiction. In short, the combination of diverse texts in this volume seeks a unitary aim: that legal studies embrace the comics medium as a real and significant critical resource and object.


Tuesday, March 03, 2015

Whilst I still possess a ‘typewriter’: an engagement with Chagnon and Lind’s ‘tale of burglary’.

Judge Dredd is a fictional character like Dixon of Dock Green, but his antithesis.  Dredd incorporates the powers of police, prosecution, judge, jury and, occasionally, executioner.  So a bit like your parents or headteacher.  Dredd is popular with fans and his commercial franchisers but has also attracted scholarly attention (for instance, Film, law and the delivery of justice: The case of Judge Dredd and the disappearing courtroom by Steve Greenfield and Guy Osborn @prof_guy_osborn).

Nicholas Chagnon (@nickchagnon) and Meda Chesney–Lind (@drmeda) don’t mention Dredd in their “Someone’s been in the house:” a tale of burglary and trial by media but I do, and I drag trolling in too.  

I like the article I mean only to riff on it not critique it.  

The abstract says:

This paper examines a case of trial by media revolving around a routine property crime in Hawaii. Trial by media is an emerging concept in crime media research; it illuminates how 21st-century mediascapes facilitate dynamic and interactive representations of crime, which may create spaces for alternative justice processes. Here we examine the impact of one victim’s efforts to identify a house burglar by sharing surveillance photos of the crime itself on the Internet, and the ensuing consequences. We chart how images of this relatively minor property crime circulated on the Internet through social media and eventually became a significant story for local corporate news. We also explore the consequences of this process, both in terms of restorative justice and surveillance research. Specifically, we document the way that social media presents opportunities outside of the criminal justice process for redress of grievances. We also, though, document how social media can create a forum for both racist and hate speech around criminals and those perceived to be criminal, and finally, we consider the ambiguous implications of using personal surveillance technologies as primary crime prevention strategies.

Before engaging with some of this I want to illustrate the advantages of blogging over journal publishing; and in this case render it an advantage for journal publishing.  I am able to find and link to this Hawaiian news website which has more detail and an unpixellated image of the offender and this is the very blogpage that the burglary victim first mentions the burglary in (from 2009) and this later one (from 2011) which talks of a ‘burglary spree’.  Chignon and Lind mention analysing a facebook page for comments. As you can see it’s not very active but given to mentions of burglary, crime and suspicion of crime.  The most exciting thing about the area is that it’s where President Obama christmases.  Of course, I am now using the internet to blog this then subsequently tweet, Facebook and Google plus it in the hope that you will read my work now but also theirs.  It worked for Nicolas Carrier. Given the topic it also seems most appropriate to discuss it online.

Now I want to pick up on: ‘trial by media’, ‘moral panics’ (one of their keywords), restorative justice and surveillance.

‘trial by media’

They cite Greer and McLaughlin on the trial by media of the McCann’s but note their smaller scale case that their burglar was tried by his community after being shamed on line (se RJ later).  The online trolling of feminists might be seen as a form of trial by social media but of the more medieval kind - the ducking of witches or trial by ordeal.  You might object that such trolling is a crime not justice.  Here I’m trying to think what the troll might be thinking.  They are justifying themselves (possibly Dredd-like) as upholding a patriarchal or racial order.  I believe a feminist take on this is possible but in researching this blog found Simon Jenkins arguing in respect of holding politicians to account that ‘Trial by media is a serviceable variant of the medieval ordeal’.  So your view may depend on who is in the dock or clutching a hot metal bar.

As an alternative to trial by media I offer ‘electronic stocks or pillory’ where the glocal trolls can throw insults and mouldy vegetables or stones at those paraded for our edutainment. 

OK on ‘moral panics’ I do want to add a little critique.  As I recently blogged:

I believe that to follow Stan requires a parsimonious definition of a ‘moral panic’ and that one handy rule might be that if the media use the term it isn’t one.

I think I want to amend it to say, 'when anyone uses the term'.  I think they mean media frenzy, hype or bubble rather than a strict Cohenian ‘moral panic’ I get no sense that any burglars were created - other than in people’s imagining and then only in imagining who their real burglar was.

restorative justice

The community, including the expanded online community, was mobilised. As they say:

Over a five-day period, the photos from the blog went viral on social media, were picked up by corporate news (both locally and nationally), and generated wide-ranging, online discussion. Additionally, the couple received roughly half a dozen tips from four states (including a number of false identifications). Within two days, though, the perpetrator was identified, and his family returned the stolen property.
But also it harvested a good deal of hate, stereotypical and punitive speech and calls for Dredd-like action that moves straight from offence to punishment.  It also attracted ‘humor’ and even shaming of the victims for failing to use the official channels (insufficiently Dredd-like?).

surveillance

As an early writer on CCTV and occasional peer reviewer for Surveillance and Society I clearly have a theoretical interest in these matters but I was also piqued by the mention that the blogger makes of installing the CCTV system to check on the cat.  I feed a friend’s cat occasionally whilst they are away.  I have got used to dealing with the burglar alarm (note to burglars reading, I don’t currently have one) and was only slightly bemused when a small camera was added to the system.  I am used to one of them pulling out their smartphone and treating me a to a view of their kitchen and guess they may one day spot me in their kitchen feeding their cat (I will be sharing this blog with them on social media).

The article has some interesting things to say about surveillance, including sousveillance but the most significant thing is what they don’t say.  And this has caused me some ethical concerns.

Earlier I adverted to the blog.  I had found this because on reading the intro I searched for the news story and found the blog.  On reading further in the article I found they refer to the blog and see they cite (Lind I (2014).  The blog clearly refers to the wife’s name being ‘Meda’ so I am guessing that she, the criminologist co-author, was the burglary victim.  Obviously criminologists are victims of crime.  James Q Wilson might chuckle to see she had her powerbook stolen.  But why does she not mention it?  Academic conventionality or some sense of privacy? 

So I am worried that I have now breached her privacy but hope in doing so I’ve illustrated further the polymorphousness of the internet.

A search reveals no stories under ‘Criminologist Burgled’ which suggests her local media is missing a trick. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Why I’m declaring myself Professor of Criminology in the Twitterverse

I can see why Chris Parr (‘A lifetime’s worth of insight in 140 characters max’, 19 Feb 2015) opens with a ritual nod to popular views of Twitter as ‘a frivolous tool for procrastination’ but it would be nice if we could move on.

He moves on to discuss the value to young academics of Twitter.  I want to emphasise the potential benefits for older academics such as myself.  As part of my commitment to ‘Public Criminology’ I tweet as @criminology4u to 5571 followers.  Only professors David Wilson and Tim Newburn have higher profiles. I once crowned David Britain’s foremost Criminologist in the THE (‘CSI: crime story interpreters’ 23 July 2009). His media output is controversial (Bring Back Borstal met with mixed reviews and many brickbats from criminologists on Twitter) but it brings undergraduate students - and their parents - to Birmingham City University.  Tim’s work on the Riots and all-conquering textbook are only part of his many talents.  Both tweet.

My Twitter following rests entirely on building it up over many years.  I like to think I retweet colleagues generously and take issue politely and appropriately.  It has lead to some invitations to events where professors proliferate and some invites to guest lecture due to pressure generated by student Twitter followers anxious to hear me.  But I want to illustrate the impact this can have with an ironic tale.  My published, peer-reviewed work is eclectic but includes two specifically on public criminology.

I recently found these denounced along with the work of other, better known academics.  I invited the author to do shorter version for my public criminology blog.  He declined and I wrote up the ‘dispute’ myself for my blog as Nic Groombridge, ‘Public Criminologist’ and ‘Master of Truth’ where I suggested he was the elitist not public criminologists.  I noted that in the week of 15 November 2014 my tweets received 3,809 views, that I had 55 new followers with 74 visits to links that I had posted. My most popular tweet that week accounted for one third of those link visits; with one in ten of those viewing visiting the link to his article in Radical Criminology.


I, and he, probably got more coverage from that tweet than any amount of journal publishing which brings me back to my own frivolity and procrastination.  I like to think that if I’d published more I’d be a Professor by now.  But I want now to argue that such is the reach of social media it should be taken into account in selection for titles.  Whilst I wait for the Academy to catch up I’m declaring myself ‘Professor of Criminology in the Twitterverse’.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

My Crime and Media book reviews: the highlights

I’ve reviewed a number of books on crime and media over the past decade or so.  Most recently Policing and Media: Public Relations, Simulations and Communications, Murray Lee and Alyce McGovern, Routledge, 2014 on this blog.

Many more are published in journals so here are some highlights.

In Crime, Media, Culture I review Anita Lam’s ‘Making Crime Television: Producing entertaining representations of crime for television broadcast’.  Here’s an extract:

Lam’s ethnography takes us through the thinking, writing, rewriting and re-rewriting involved in getting a crime show idea to script, then filmed for TV in North America. She rightly points out crucial legal, political and cultural differences between Canada and the USA and alludes to some in UK/Europe. That ranges from different regulatory regimes to different numbers and length, or even existence, of advertising breaks. The setting for, and partial funder, of the various series she examines is Canada; but for sound commercial reasons, including the Writers Guild of America strike 2007/8, Toronto often stands in for Anywhere/Anytime. One of the series briefly gets a showing on a US network.

Brooding over all this is the hydra-headed CSI franchise and skulking in the corner is The Wire. The latter is lauded by the critics and studied or referenced by academics (guilty) but is not a ratings success. CSI may be studied by academics for its effects but more still by networks seeking to replicate its success.

Lam makes something of the five (usually)-act structure of such shows and once even metaphorically presents her material as if she were a detective assembling the suspects in the drawing room but her book has an introduction, five chapters and conclusion. The introduction is materially substantial enough to warrant an act/chapter of its own, as is the conclusion, which she does not explicitly foreshadow in the introduction.

The following all appeared in The Howard Journal of Criminal Justice:

Law and Order (BFI TV Classics). By C. Brundson Volume 50, Issue 4, pages 441–442, September 2011

Here’s an extract:

Though a short book, it is a model: in examining the text, the means of its production and critical reception.  Crime and criminal justice are at the heart of the text and criminal justice politics at the heart of the reception.  The Police Federation, the Prison Officers Association and assorted MPs objected strongly.  BBC minutes reveal that some of the difficulties of production turned on the delicate relationship between Government and broadcaster.  Perhaps too much is made of the, then, shared ministerial responsibility for broadcasting and criminal justice but the Home Office did refuse assistance during production, and access for news and current affairs after broadcast.  Such was the fuss that a repeat was delayed until 1980. Until the DVD release in 2008 it remained an ‘absent classic’.


Framing Crime: Cultural Criminology and the Image by K.J. Hayward and M. Presdee (Eds.) Volume 49, Issue 4, pages 421–422, September 2010

Here’s the extract:

Hindley appears again in Jones and Wardle’s discussion of the image of Maxine Carr.  They carry out a quantitative and qualitative content analysis of the images of Carr and Huntley.  They find a concentration on Carr which could be taken to indicate an equality of responsibility (or ‘evil’ in tabloidese) which were it set out in cold print might have constituted contempt of court.  A damning irony is that the images analysed were alleged by newspapers to fall under the subsequent ‘Mary Bell’ order granting Carr lifelong anonymity, so could not be used here.  Gender is an issue but they find a case from the late 1960s where a woman initially covered for her murderous husband yet faced no prosecution and little press censure.

Yar runs through the reasons for criminology to engage with film (valid, but missing the extent to which legal studies already has - see Greenfield et al, 2001) and gives and discusses others analyses of, mostly US, films.  Perhaps under Hayward’s strictures about what the book is not about it sticks to marxist/modernist and postmodern readings of film ignoring the vast feminist and psycho-analytical tradition, mentioning Mike Nellis’s 1988 article on British prison movies in this journal (27: 1) only in passing.


Criminal Visions: Media Representations of Crime and Justice P. Mason (Ed.) Vol. 43, No. 3, pp. 341-355, July 2004

Here’s the extract:

Mason admits the reason for the book is his own search for a book to teach media and crime courses and his desire to cover the visual – so I cannot complain about the lack of a radio chapter.  He also sets out the logic behind the division of the book into three parts: part 1 concentrates on the concerns of the media; part 2 on the construction of offences and offenders and part 3 on representations on of criminal justice.

So part 1 quite appropriately starts with Reiner et al setting out their work on press coverage of crime.  They affirm the relevance of Surette’s ‘law of opposites’ – that media representations of crime are largely the opposite of ‘reality’.  Two interesting points are: the finding of the under-representation of black people as criminals (p21), which goes unexplored, and their conclusion that there is an increased tendency to see crime as hurting individual victims rather than morality, the law or society.  Julian Petley has written elsewhere about the ‘media effects’ debate, here he is concerned with an analysis of the treatment by the British Board for Film Classification and the Video Appeals Committee of a video release of Wes Craven’s The Last House on the Left.  They ignored his advice.  Innes concludes the part by examining ‘signal crimes’ such as the murders of James Bulger and Holly Wells and Jessica Chapman.  Such crimes ‘function as mnemonics, subsequently framing the production of new signal crimes, which in turn reverberate with meaning for their audiences.’ (p66)

Crime and Law in Media Culture S. Brown Vol. 43, pp. 99-111, February 2004

Here’s the extract:

In late August 2003 the Chief Constable of Manchester, Michael Todd, was reported, by many papers, as saying: ‘Some of them would have been better off being interviewed by someone who has watched The Bill or Inspector Morse’.  He was describing his observations of his own officers interviewing burglary suspects.  Several days earlier his force had arrested a BBC undercover reporter who had undergone full training and was now on probation.  The journalist had infiltrated to investigate allegations of racism.  In the same month Jake Arnott published truecrime: the third volume of his gangster trilogy, which contains as much criminology as it does literary allusion and action.  All of these, and more, examples come too late for inclusion in Brown’s book but I think they illustrate her contention that ‘empirical’ or ‘administrative’ criminologies, render crime no more comprehensible and law no more legitimate than do the supposedly ‘fictive’ cultural maps of detective novels, or the imagined justice of the courtroom drama, or the hybrid genres of news docudrama and reality TV. (p182)

Policing and the Media: Facts, fictions and factions Frank Leishman and Paul Mason. Cullompton:Willan (2003) Volume 42, Issue 4, pages 397–407, September 2003

Here’s the extract:

On 26 February 2003 Detective Superintendent Craig Denholm of Surrey police wrote to the Guardian to complain of the hypocrisy of that paper’s leader the previous day, which had attacked police handling of the arrest of TV presenter Matthew Kelly.  Just as in previous years the tabloids had raised the stakes over paedophilia, so the broadsheets and mid-market tabloids now weighed in on behalf of the wrongly accused.  The same day the Daily Express spent 1,766 words on this and a number of other cases ranging from the arrest of Neil and Christine Hamilton to football manager David Jones and other less well-known names.  Det. Supt. Denham made the point that the Police had never named Kelly and had only acted so quickly – arresting him at the theatre – after the media had named Kelly.  So the police blame the media and some parts of the media blame other parts.  Then, to put it as this book does, others take those facts and create fiction and ‘faction’. By faction they mean the, “uneasy amalgam of ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’ that often goes under the name ‘infotainment’.” (p4)  However, as the Superintendent’s bitterness indicates, faction suggests antagonistic groups and the division is not just between police and media.  The Daily Star’s leader of 25 February is a masterpiece of insinuation, opening with these words: “Matthew Kelly is innocent. Everyone says so.  Dave Lynn, the drag queen he used to live with.  All the luvvies who've worked with him.  Even Jonathan King. And now, Surrey police agree too.”


Y. Jewkes, Captive Audience: Media, Masculinity and Power in Prisons and R.C. Mawby, Policing Images: Policing, Communication and Legitimacy, Vol. 42, pp. 93-104, 2003

Here’s the extract:

Whilst both deal with the media it is Jewkes book that specifically addresses theories of media. in Chapter 1 in parallel with her review of the prison literature - specifically the importance of 'doing', 'killing' and 'marking' time.  Particularly important - given her emphasis on masculinities (derived from Connell and Messerschmidt) - is the tendency in some media theory of seeing TV viewing and radio listening as 'passive'.  Within media theory both right and left have their versions of this.  Thus for the right the media subverts all that is good - respect for motherhood and homemade apple pie - and replaces it with promiscuity and ersatz 'pop tarts'.  Equally for the left the media is a 'narcotic' (anyone remember the Yippies?) or a tool of capital (for instance, noting Silvio Berlusconi's control of the Italian State and commercial media respectively as prime minister and owner).  To overcome the deficiencies of these 'hypodermic' or 'cultural dope' models media theorists have developed the 'uses and gratifications' model. This recognises that audiences can be active in 'reading across the grain' of media texts.  Jewkes uses Bourdieu and Giddens (discussed in Chapter 2) to emphasise the interplay of structure and agency in the uses made and the gratifications available to prisoners through various media. Thus the deprivations of imprisonment can be seen to structurally emasculate far more effectively that the castration visited on the couch potato.  She notes, 'like the unemployed, prison inmates are likely to have a far greater degree of attachment to and appreciation of media as a source of entertainment, escapism, identity and opinion reinforcement, social interaction, or simply a means of enduring painfully slow-moving periods of time' (p63).  As we can see watching television or listening to radio has never been so active.

Where Jewkes is largely looking at the reception of media by audiences, Mawby examines the extent to which the media is shaped by the police or, indeed the extent to which the image created of the police is the police. Clearly an ideological reading of the police as reflection or refraction of class, race or gender power has always hinted at this. In using the term image work he recognises that some effort is expended even if he doesn't quite see it in terms of a or 'the' struggle (no Gramsci or Althusser). Mawby tackles some of the theory (Habermas) but mostly offers a history of police image work and a closely observed case study of South Yorkshire Police.  Thus the first two chapters are given over to setting out the four phases he identifies in the history of police image work: 1829-1919 (informal but evident in the choice of uniform and force orders); 1919-1972 (starting from the formation of the Met's Press Bureau and including the 'golden age' of PC Dixon); 1972-1987 (the appointment of Robert Mark and the art of 'winning by appearing to lose') and finally from 1987 (increased professionalism and Imbert's change of force to service and the appointment of Wolff Olins as corporate identity consultants.


News, Crime and Culture M. Wykes Pluto (2001) Vol. 41, pp. 209-217, 2002

Here’s the extract:

Early on Maggie Wykes sets out the premise of this book, which is:

that the media actively, routinely but not exclusively constructed discourses of legitimacy empathic with the interests of conservatism during the period of the Tory Governments of Margaret Thatcher (1979-92) and John Major (1992-97) (p25)

Thus readers will not be surprised to find that the crimes covered are: the criminalisation of black communities; the working class; youth; the homeless; violence between men and women and sex and sexuality.

A context for all this is given in the first chapter which charts the course of a number of ‘criminological crises’.  In short this sets out the marxist and feminist challenges to conventional mainstream criminology.  She argues that it has systematically failed to understand let alone reduce crime moreover that, ‘for most people the major source of information about crime is mass media news.’ (p8) . It is a commonplace to show the news media routinely over report some crimes and under report others.  Thus our understanding of murder (and, as I write, of terrorism) is clearly mediated by press and broadcasting. Yet if we draw the definition of media as broadly as the third term of the book’s title - culture - then there can scarcely be a time when this was not the case.  Those who crowded to the theatre of Shakespeare to see Corialanus or Greek Tragedy should have been as frightened as the inhabitants of Morse’s corpse-strewn Oxford.  However, direct and local experience of everyday mundane crimes such as vandalism, harassment and discrimination is not mediated in quite the same fashion.  Tudor patrons of the theatre would experience the cutpurse much as the modern city dweller experiences ‘mugging’ today – directly.  Wykes is right that there is clearly a punitive discourse in much current media.  However, it is less clear that this can easily be traced back unequivocally to the demands of capitalism or its political puppets.


I also reviewed Crime and Culture: an Historical Perspective Amy Gilman Srebnick and René Lévy Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing (2005) for HoJo but can’t find it was ever used.  So here full text.

I asked to review this book because I am trying to write something on 'cultural criminology' however this is not a work of cultural criminology but of history. It is a history of criminology, of criminal justice and of representations of crime; with three or four articles on each.  This review necessarily concentrates on the criminological and the cultural not the history but there are arguments around historical method, Foucault and narrative to detain those with appropriate knowledge.

Not only are all but two of the thirteen contributors historians – only Clive Emsley will be known to most UK criminologists – but many are European and their work is presented in translated American English.  Moreover, much of the work has its genesis in conferences of the International Association for the History of Crime and Criminal Justice.  So this book suffers from some of the usual problems of such a collection.

The editors’ short introduction sees the history of crime providing ‘a way to study time, place, and culture’ (xiii) and claims ‘there are important continuities in the history of crime and its representations in modern culture, despite particularities of time and place’ (ibid).  A major source of continuity are media texts; broadly drawn to include news media, dime novels and Arrêts Criminels.   Other texts analysed include published criminological texts and unpublished police records.  Less interesting to HJCJ readers will be those like Rousseaux on a Belgian Department under French Rule in 1789 which is only tangentially about crime – the violence of a revolt and its suppression – and culture – French and Flemish perspectives.  Mátay and Csepeli introduce us to a legendary Hungarian Highwayman and the brief media flowering in the late 1990s of a bank robber likened to him. Miller’s account of dime novels doesn’t go much beyond noting a number of themes that will be recognizable to most readers – incompetent police, maverick private eye, innocence wronged etc. Lévy unpicks the legal fall out from a police drugs sting that went wrong – officers sent to prison - but doesn’t specifically tie it to an understanding of the culture of Police, Customs or civil servants involved.

Leaving aside these and the historical, indeed historiographical, first chapter we have six interesting chapters with three on criminology and three on police. Turning first to the criminology: Peter Becker deploys a Foucauldian method on the discourse of German criminology texts from the late 18th to the early 20th Century; Mary Gibson examines the ‘scientific’ narratives of Italian Criminology from 1880-1920 and Herbert Reinke discusses the influence of the criminologist Robert Heindl on policing before, during and after the Nazi period.

More central to criminological concerns is Gibson’s work as it relates to Lombroso and his acolytes, moreover she has recently translated – with Nicole Hahn Rafter – his work, with Ferrerro, on women and crime.  She notes his use of quantitative and qualitative narratives to show a particular sort of wrinkling on the skin of women criminals is evidenced by ‘the old woman of vinegar’ - said to have assisted women kill their husbands and memorialised in the museum of Palermo and granted a photo in Criminal Women.  Gibson asks is this bad science or a means – at the time – of strengthening his arguments by deploying both scientific and popular discourses to forge his new, and powerful, knowledge?  She notes, ‘criminal anthropologists were indefatigable in giving lectures and writing articles for popular audiences’ (40).

She analyses an article Lombroso wrote about the capture of a celebrated brigand which moves from derision at the forces of law, to the claim for the superiority of his methods - based solely on a picture of the man - before returning to admiration for his intelligence.  As this is later in his career, and consonant with his socialism, he mentions the poverty and illiteracy of the man’s background before slipping into casual ethnic stereotyping.  Rather than wondering why he wrote so badly or the editor did not rein him in she feels Lombroso is appealing to various audiences in the one text.  She gives a similar reading of Ferrero’s account of a murder by a casual prostitute but notes too the sexism and the anxieties that women’s crime raised.  Finally she analyses an article in a police and prison staff journal.  It is the notes of a lecture given by a disciple of Lombroso’s, Salvatore Ottolenghi, where a thief was physically and psychologically examined before a class.  Again it is a diverse text as the lecturer, the note taker and the thief all have a voice.  That is positivism took off because it told good stories.

Allen Steinberg examines a case of police corruption and murder in New York that lead to an officer, Charles Becker, going to the electric chair in 1915.  Politicians were involved in the case and often, through the media, in using it to pursue their own ends.  Jean-Marc Berlière shows how the narratives deployed by police during the Nazi occupation to gain promotion or bonuses could redound on them as collaborators.  Clive Emsley’s examines the case of Sergeant Goddard, sentenced to 18 months hard labour with a £2,000 fine in 1929.


Police and official historians note with satisfaction that he was bought to book by the police themselves – the rotten apple – but Emsley wonders if a diseased orchard was to blame.  He gives tables for those dismissed or transferred from the same Division.  Some were old hands others new recruits but the vice beat proved as problematic then as in later scandals of the 60s and 70s.  Clearly the media had a field day but he uses the historical records to flesh out the culture of the police then.  He comes nearest to cultural criminology when footnoting the fact that Spike Milligan may have met one of the criminals involved.