Trapped in a latter-day Plato’s cave

5th November 2025

Social media platforms do not necessarily correspond to the outside world

*

Once upon a time the writer of this blog had far too many followers on social media, and when one has far too many followers, things start becoming distorted. And unless one does something about it, one can go quite mad.

By ‘quite mad’ it is meant that one’s sense of reality becomes disconnected from, well, reality. One begins to replace thoughts with ‘takes’ – and to replace developing those thoughts with promoting memes. The value of your takes and memes is then measured by likes and reposts from the similarly afflicted.

Pretty soon you are trapped within a self-contained and self-perpetuating system of understanding the world, and one becomes unable to see the world in any other way.

You are trapped within a latter-day Plato’s cave.

*

Many in politics and media now seem to also chained in that cave, unable to see the world other than via how X/Twitter and Facebook present this world.

No social media platform is perfect – the ‘social’ bit ensures that, as people are not perfect – but some platforms are better than others (I prefer Bluesky for law and policy, and Mastodon for general geekery).

Being able to differentiate the world around you from (mainstream and social) media representations of it is crucial to half-decent thinking about the world.

Of course, one has to take account of social media – the rise of Brexit and Trump require an understanding of how certain politics thrive with electronic networks. But social media is only one element amongst others – constitutional structures (and lack of structures), patterns of political participation, and social and economic contexts.

The challenge for liberals is not to ignore social media but to put it in its place: to use it and learn from it, but not to be overwhelmed by it.

***

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.

An instance of the royal prerogative

All Souls’ Day, 2025

Why an Act of Parliament was not needed to remove the title from the former Duke of York

The most fundamental feature of the constitution of the United Kingdom is the Crown.

At least, conceptually.

In one way or another the Crown invariably provides the ultimate source of power for the other elements of our constitutional order: Acts of of Parliament have effect once they have royal assent; the judgments handed down in the royal courts of justice; the discretionary powers of the prime minister acting on behalf of the crown.

Trace any legal power back far enough, and you will usually end up with the Crown.

(With a few exceptions.)

Indeed, the Crown can confer legal effect on all sorts of written instruments, of which Acts of Parliament are merely one example amongst others: royal charters, orders in council, royal warrants, royal proclamations, letters patent, and so on.

Once they are endorsed by the crown they, by constitutional magic, have legal effect.

It is a convention of the common law courts that Acts of Parliament have priority above the other royal instruments (a mere rule of statutory construction, as someone once mischievously put it.). But from another point of view, all are instruments that have legal effect once they are endorsed by the monarch.

Like a prime minister, an Act of Parliament is first amongst equals.

*

When the question arose about how to remove the ducal title from an individual previously known as a prince, many assumed that it could only be done by Act of Parliament.

Here there seemed to be a precedent: the Titles Deprivation Act of 1917 – the text of which is here – which was used to remove titles from aristocrats on the side of Germany in the first world war.

Presumably, the thought went, such a statute would be required again.

No.

If one looks carefully at the 1917 Act you will see that it recognises but does not create a right of the-then king to remove an honour. It instead provides a scheme for selecting which peers would lose their titles, and for dealing with consequential points like succession and property.

The 1917 Act was one way of putting the question before the king and for addressing any aftermath, but it was not the only one. It was not an exclusive method.

*

And so what happened last week was that the current king used another legal instrument – a royal warrant – to remove the title from his brother.

The warrant instructed the Lord Chancellor – responsible for maintaining the roll of peerage – to remove the title.

As simple as that.

One reason is was so easy was because of the constitutional changes of 1999-2005 which affected the composition of the House of Lords and the changed the nature of the Lord Chancellorship – see here.

Because a peerage no longer carries an automatic right to sit in the legislature, there is really little legal traction to a title, and so less impediment to it being removed by means other than an Act of Parliament.

A royal warrant was thereby a deft workaround, instead of a statutory scheme such as the 1917 Act.

*

Never underestimate the residual force of royal power in the United Kingdom (though Scots law is not necessarily the same on this as the laws of England and Wales and Northern Ireland).

The king can still do all sorts of things which have legal effect and without any Act of Parliament.

And many of these powers can be used “on behalf of the Crown” by ministers.

The problem with all this is that those royal powers are not directly checked and balanced by parliament.

And so whilst we may clap and cheer and the king’s clever constitutional move here, it would generally be preferable for such things to be dealt with by parliament, and not the crown.

***

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.

The one-way constitution

29th October 2025

Some say Trump and his circle are disregarding the constitution – but that is only half right

We have a tendency to think in binaries – and this is certainly true about when we think about constitutions and constitutionalism.

We will take a view on whether a politician is acting either within a constitution or not.

And if not, we may use emphatic phrases with redundant adverbs: “[A] is completely disregarding the constitution” or “[B] is totally ignoring the constitution” – and so on.

But with the case of Trump and others, this is not correct, “completely” or “totally” or otherwise.

For in practice Trump keen on the constitutional protections that protect him and confer on him powers, and his various supporters are keen on the constitutional provisions that protect them and give them powers.

The constitution is not disregarded or ignored when it is to their advantage.

When it suits them, the constitution is very much intact.

They just do not want those elements of the constitution that check and balance them, or which confer rights on those they want to attack

It is one-way constitutionalism.

*

Over at Prospect (click here) my latest “weekly constitutional” post applies this general observation to a couple of concrete examples: about how the Trump-allied Speaker of the House of Representatives is using his powers to not swear in a political opponent over a month after she was elected, and how the conservative majority on the Supreme Court are using a “shadow docket” to determine cases in the government’s favour without full hearings.

But there are many other examples – consider Trump’s use of the pardon power to circumvent and frustrate accountability in the criminal justice system, or how is using executive orders to usurp the proper role of Congress (with Congress nodding-along).

All these examples are, in their different ways, uses and abuses of powers and rights allocated by the constitution.

If Trump and his allies were genuinely disregarding the constitution they would not be able to do these things.

Instead what they are doing is gaming the constitution.

A constitution for me, but not for thee.

*

As such, they are adopting a similar approach to how they deal with other matters of first principle.

Free speech for me, but not for thee.

Law and order for thee, but not for me.

And so on.

As someone once described conservatism, though it also is wider application:

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit:

There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

There is nothing more or else to it, and there never has been, in any place or time.

This is formal power using a one-way valve.

*

If full, two-way constitutionalism is to be restored in the United States and elsewhere it will not be a case of building up from ground zero.

It will be a far more difficult exercise stabilising and remedying a structure which has half-fallen down – and against the unwilling occupants of the still-stable bits.

Restoring constitutionalism will be a big job – and it will be more demanding than, say, having a revolution and starting again.

***

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.

Why ‘A House of Dynamite’ is a good film about how those with power make decisions

28th October 2025

This unconventional nuclear thriller does something rare in movies

What follows are some thoughts about A House of Dynamite (Netflix).

*

This is not a review as such, but the response of someone who regularly commentates on decision-making by those with political power to a rather good film depicting a decision-making process.

This is a film where spoilers really do need to be avoided, so please be careful with what follows if you intend to watch it.

*

SPOILERS BELOW

*

A House of Dynamite is a film about decision-making by those with power during a crisis.

The crisis is that an intercontinental ballistic missile is suddenly discovered heading towards the United States from the north Pacific – more particularly, heading towards Chicago.

The launch of this missile was not detected at launch – it is instead discovered mid-flight over the Pacific – and we join the action minutes away from impact.

*

Often thrillers follow a conventional beginning-middle-end structure, with a resolution, one way or the other.

This film does not.

It instead has a middle-middle-middle structure, with no (clear) resolution.

We are not told how this crisis arose. We never find out who fired the missile, or why.

We are also not expressly told how the story ends. There is no explicit confirmation of whether the missile strikes Chicago or not.

(Though one can perhaps infer what happens from the final two scenes.)

The film is entirely about the middle bit: from the discovery of the missile to moments before the expected strike.

We are told the story of what happens in this middle bit from three overlapping perspectives – hence middle-middle-middle – with each segment concentrating on particular decision-makers, advisers, and providers of information.

*

Usually thrillers about those in power attribute a great deal of autonomy to those at the top.

In this film, however, we are shown how information flows from the bottom, about what information is shared and reported upwards, and that information can be incomplete or even misleading.

We also do not have one decision-maker, but several in video conference, jointly and urgently sharing and assessing incomplete information.

And in assessing this information they resort to established processes and policies. Books and folders are pulled out, charts and graphics are used to illustrate options.

But these processes and policies involve choices to be made – they are not railroads, and so it is then back to the individual decision-makers struggling with only having incomplete information.

Various decisions are made: the coin-toss firing of interceptors (which miss), the triggering of a continuity protocol and various evacuations (which interfere with efficient decision-making more than anything), and so on.

(These formal decisions are dramatically placed alongside personal decisions where the same individuals, with the same information, decide to break protocols and contact loved ones.)

When the strike on Chicago becomes a virtual certainty it becomes apparent that one ultimate decision needs to be made, and that decision can only be made by the President: whether to retaliate – and, if so, to what extent and against whom, and on the basis of what (if any) information and for what purpose.

The President is kept off-screen until the final segment – but when he appears we see him dealing with the incomplete information we have watched being put together, and the policies and processes and options that have been briefed to him.

We are not told what ultimate decision he makes.

But we know what materials he has before him. We have seen those materials being pulled together from the bottom up. We know what he has been told and not told. We know what decisions he could make at that point given what evidence has been provided and the choices put to him.

To have this as the end of the film, rather than whether the missile strikes and whether there is a strike-back, is a brave and good way to bring the film to an end.

And it means that it is this final predicament which lingers – an unsettling end, rather than a means to a neater end.

*

What was for me satisfying about this film is how it showed the ongoing interaction between information and processes and human agency. Not one of these three things ever took absolute priority. This balance is rare in any political or indeed legal thriller.

Sometimes a film will come down to the individual brilliance (or otherwise) of a key character, or to the (sometimes suddenly) revealed information being overwhelming, or to the leaden deadening deployment of laws and rules or of bureaucracy.

The full spectrum from a Perry Mason trial to Franz Kafka’s The Trial.

But for there to be a constant balance (and imbalance) between information and processes and human agency from beginning to end is as rare in fiction as it is common in reality.

In practice: information will point in various directions; procedures require the use of discretion with no clearly correct answer; the human beings involved will often be all too human when faced with the horrible predicament they are in – and force of personality will usually only have a limited effect.

As one key exchange in this film puts it, a practical but grave political (or legal) crisis can seem to those involved to be a unstable mix of insanity and realism.

*

This is not a film review blog, and so there is little for me to say about the acting and cinematography other than they were of the high standard you would expect of a production with such resources.

But there was one dramatic detail which the film got right again and again.

Much of the action in this film was in big wide interior spaces – situation rooms, conference rooms, a large politician’s office.

But for those practically in those settings the rooms do not seem large – their perspective is not that of the establishing shot. Instead, being in such spaces quickly becomes closed and claustrophobic.

If you are busy (and stressed) in, say, the grand conference rooms of Westminster and Whitehall, or in the ornate court rooms of the Royal Courts of Justice and Supreme Court, you very quickly forget the quaint environments. You instead become focused on what is immediately in front of you and beside you. The grand and ornate setting is quickly out of mind.

This film similarly shows those in situation rooms and conference rooms from a close perspective – what the individuals can see and hear (and not see and hear).

Films which show a political (or legal) exchange in wide-span can be misleading, for none of those involved will be thinking or acting in wide-span.

To understand decision-making it helps to see what it looks like to the decision-maker, and the information before them.

*

Of course, what does not ring true with this film is that you have a president and a US defense secretary agonising about anything – and it is significant that production of this film began well before the current incumbents of those offices were in place. This is more a Obama or Biden era film rather a Trump one.

One wonders what a similar film with a Trump figure and company would would be like.

***

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.

An odd DPP letter and a curious government witness statement – an overall view of the dropped Chinese prosecutions

20th October 2025

*

In a few posts last week I wrote about the dropped prosecutions of the two alleged spies for China. These posts were here and, on Friday, at Prospect (click here).

Partly publishing these posts was because of the inherent interest of the case, and partly this was because new information arose – in particular, the government witness statements.

Just now taking a step back, why should this case be of any wider interest? Why is not just another collapsed case, one of many that happen every court day?

The interest does not come (for me) from it being related to China. This is not a foreign policy or a security policy blog, and I am indifferent whether the other country involved in this case is China or any other country.

This is, however, a blog about legal messes, and it is a blog that often focuses on close readings of documents (usually so as to understand how legal messes come about).

*

And in this case, there is a mess. A major prosecution has been dropped and nobody – at least outside of the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) – knows why. But what we can be reasonably certain about is that the CPS’s public reasons for dropping the case do not add up.

(It initially seemed the government’s position also did not add up, but the publication of the witness statements rebutted this view. That said, we do not know what, if any, other interventions the government may have made.)

*

Then there are two extraordinary documents.

The first is the letter dated 7 October 2025 from the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP), the head of the CPS, to two parliamentary committee chairs. In this he gets the court wrong whose decision he is blaming and curiously switches from the first person to the third person at a significant point.

The second is the first witness published statement, the only one (correctly) dated from before the charges were made against the two defendants. Here, as this blog has shown, the witness is being asked by the CPS to give evidence under the wrong Act. This is why he does not give evidence that China is an “enemy”.

*

My opinion is that the letter dated 7 October 2025 is a misleading document.

The error by the DPP (of all people!) to get the court wrong – referring to the (generally civil) high court instead of the criminal court of appeal on appeal from the criminal court) – suggests he was not personally familiar with the case in question. It is the sort of mistake senior lawyers make when they have not actually read a case themselves. As such it looks more a line-to-take he has inserted into the letter from somebody else.

*

Lets look further:

I am satisfied that the decision to charge this case in April 2024 was correct. This was on the basis of where the law stood at that time in relation to the requirements of the Official Secrets Act 1911.

But we know from the first witness statement that the witness was not asked about the legal test in the 1911 Act. He was asked about the test in the 2023 Act which did not apply at the relevant time. So unless there is evidence of which we do not know, the decision to charge was based on evidence for a different offence, which did not require evidence of an enemy.

If this is correct, the quoted statement above cannot be right.

*

Lets go on:

Some weeks later, a High Court decision (R v Roussev and others 2024) ruled that “enemy” for the purposes of the 1911 Act includes a country which represents at the time of the offence, a threat to the national security of the UK.

Here is referring to a decision of the court of appeal on appeal from the crown court.

But this decision widened the definition of “enemy” not narrowed it.

This means if the evidential test had actually been met before it would necessarily have been met again.

This too is not a correct statement by the DPP.

(And “weeks”? The court of appeal decision of July 2024 is not only weeks after the charging decision of April 2024.)

*

It is however correct that the DPP now start pressing the government for evidence about the enemy. This explains the second (incorrectly dated) witness statement of 21 February 2025 and the third witness statement of 4 August 2025.

Why did it take until February and August 2025 for the witness to be asked to give evidence which is (supposedly) prompted by a court decision of July 2024?

It seems that it is not until February 2025 that the CPS actually have the evidence that would have justified the original charging decision of April 2024, let alone any re-visiting of that evidential test.

*

And finally:

In the light of this new judgment, it was considered that further evidence should be obtained. Efforts to obtain that evidence were made over many months, but notwithstanding the fact that further witness statements were provided, none of these stated that at the time of the offence China represented a threat to national security, and by late August 2025 it was realised that this evidence would not be forthcoming. When this became apparent, the case could not proceed.

This account is also not correct.

The second (incorrectly dated) witness statement of 21 February 2025 and the third witness statement of 4 August 2025 both provide evidence that China is expressly a threat, especially paragraphs 4 to 7 of the latter statement

To say that “by late August 2025 it was realised that this evidence would not be forthcoming” makes no sense against the published witness statements.

*

Sentence-by-sentence, paragraph-by-paragraph, the DPP letter dated 7 October 2025 does not add up, and it contains a sequence of incorrect and misleading statements.

It is an odd letter for a DPP to send about a legal mess.

*

And as this blog focuses on legal messes and close readings of such documents that is why this blog has published a few posts on this subject.

The analysis on this blog, however, does not make out any conspiracy theory. As is said above, we do not know why the prosecution was dropped – and there may be evidence of interventions and decisions which we do not have.

We only know, on the basis of official documents, that the official explanation makes no sense.

***

 

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.

What the Chinese spying case witness statements reveal

16th October 2025

Trying to make sense of the nonsensical decision to drop the Chinese spying prosecutions

Freedom is just another word for “a gap in the law”

7th October 2025

Two glimpses of Conor Gearty – a master in promoting the public understanding of law

*

Remembering the late Conor Gearty.

*

Two events in the City of London: separated by twelve years in time and by a few hundred yards in distance.

Yet the events were in quite different worlds.

*

It is 2000, and the Human Rights Act 1998 is about to have full effect. The Law Society have warned all solicitors in England and Wales that the legislation will have a profound impact and it would be negligent not to know about it. Law firms are scrambling to get information on this strange and supposedly powerful new statute.

And so in a conference room of an international law firm, hardened corporate and commercial lawyers are about to find out about the law of human rights.

The speaker is Conor Gearty.

And instead of talking at the assembled City lawyers, he goes around the room engaging with them, with genuine curiosity asking about transfers of types of property and the operation of trusts and pension funds. He then ties the responses into practical examples of how the European Court of Human Rights has dealt with (or not dealt with) the rights to property and to privacy and to a fair hearing.

Beside themselves, the audience become fascinated.

And in an extraordinary exercise in exposition he even conveys the then novel doctrine of proportionality and how almost every right under the Human Rights can be interfered with, and how the 1998 Act is likely to work in practice.

A session which could have gone so badly could not have been done better.

*

It is now 2012, and just around the corner and up the road from that law firm there are mass tents outside St Paul’s Cathedral.

It is the time of Occupy London.

And in one of the larger tents there is a speaker meeting on protest and the rule of law, and one of the speakers on the panel is Conor Gearty.

Again he engages with everyone, talking about the big legal case then before the courts on the legality of the “occupation”, but also about protest and the rule of law generally.

He explains, again with illustrative detail, about the how the European Court of Human Rights and our domestic courts have dealt with (or not dealt with) the rights to free expression and to free assembly and to a fair hearing.

And he talks about how the rule of law can bind the powerful, as well as the powerless. He wrote about the event here (where he was characteristically generous and kind about the other speaker).

In his write-up of the event he concluded:

Last night’s event was full of hope – hope that society can be transformed; hope that our culture can find the levels of solidarity that it so desperately needs; hope that equality can be achieved rather than merely spoken about.

But this hope never collapsed into utopian illusion.

Nor did it threaten at any time to morph into a cynical aggressiveness towards a public who refuse to share the dream.

There was an intelligent awareness of the time dreams take to be realised, of the hard work that utopia demands and of the need to be there for the long haul. Minds are not changed by singular actions, however singular. They are changed when society comes to regard these singular actions as the rule rather than the exception, when common sense shifts onto the side of the erstwhile heretic. This can take a long time or happen very quickly indeed. But it can always happen. No situation is so bad that dreams – with courage, determination and patience – cannot be realised.

*

The hopes of 2012 now seem a long time ago.

Occupy London is as dated in its way as the London Olympic opening ceremony.

But he was right – making things better may take a long time, and will require a long haul.

No situation is so bad that dreams – with courage, determination and patience – cannot be realised.”

*

Conor Gearty was a genius in explaining often technical law in a way which related practically to whichever audience he was addressing – judges, lawyers, students, protesters, or the public generally.

(Only days before he died he was on the Prospect podcast discussing the Palestine Action proscription.)

He was also the most brilliant – and relentlessly realistic – of all exponents of a liberal and progressive approach to law.

Perhaps constitutional law – including the law of human rights and civil liberties – should be boring, not exciting.

Yet Conor Gearty was always able to make it genuinely interesting.

***

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.

The Kneecap prosecution collapsed because police and prosecutors did not take terrorism law seriously

29th September 2025

Where “a technicality” hides a fundamental error

There is an old chestnut of a phrase: “off on a technicality”.

What this usually means – or at least is usually intended to mean to mean – is that but for some procedural or evidential error, a person would have been found legally liable for a thing.

The term even has its own page at TV Tropes

The wording has become so common, however, that it now can cover the ending of any case, even if it would not be the case that a person would have otherwise have been found guilty or civilly liable. It now just means that a case has come to an end without any substantive finding either way.

It is a journalistic shorthand which can obscure as much as it explains.

*

Last week the prosecution collapsed of Liam Og O hAnnaidh (Anglicised as Liam O’Hanna). The defendant is, of course, part of the Irish rap group Kneecap.

And according to the judgment which brought this case to an end:

On 21st November 2024, the Defendant performed as part of the rap group, Kneecap, at the O2 Forum, Kentish Town, in London. It is alleged that, as part of this performance, the Defendant displayed a Hezbollah flag in such a way or in such circumstances as to arouse reasonable suspicion that he is a supporter of a proscribed organisation.

Hezbollah (also known as Hizbollah) is a proscribed terrorist organisation under schedule 2 of the Terrorism Act 2000:

Hizbollah listed as a terrorist group in a statute

The group was added to the schedule, it seems, in 2019.

Under secton 13 of the 2000 Act a person in a public place commits an offence if he (or she) wears, carries or displays an article, in such a way or in such circumstances as to arouse reasonable suspicion that he (or she) is a member or supporter of a proscribed organisation:

The section 13 offence in the statute

On the face of it it, if the prosecution can show that a defendant wore such a prohibited item the prosecution would be straightforward.

But.

The Terrorism Act – being terrorism legislation – imposes an additional burden on a prosecution when such an offence has been committed for a purpose wholly or partly connected with the affairs of a country other than the United Kingdom.

The Terrorism Act provides that there is a safeguard.

Before a prosecution can be brought the consent of the Attorney General (or his or her deputy the Solicitor General) should be obtained – a consent which should (at least in theory) not be taken for granted.

This is not a trivial tickbox, but an important requirement set by parliament.

For terrorism legislation is special – it provides a powerful body of law in addition to the general criminal and civil law of the land. In principle, it should only be used sparingly and carefully, when the general law of the land is insufficient.

And because terrorism law is so powerful -especially in respect of how it can interfere with fundamental rights – it has these additional safeguards.

One such safeguard is that it not enough for the police and Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) to want to bring a prosecution in respect of a person who is a member or a supporter of a foreign proscribed organisation, it also needs the consent of the government’s most senior law officer.

*

Terrorism law is important and it should be taken seriously, not least by the police and CPS.

But in this case, the police and the CPS did not take it seriously.

As Joshua Rozenberg helpfully sets out in his post on this case, the decision to prosecute was left to the very last minute of the six-month period (endind 21 May) to bring a prosecution:

Timeline of prosecution

There was then, on 22 May, what must have been a “oh XXXX” moment for the police and the prosecutors as it seems to have suddenly dawned on them that they needed the consent of the Attorney General (or his/her deputy the Solicitor General).

Whoopsie.

And so there was a scramble.

The police and the prosecutors were more like students with an essay crisis, than custodians of the public interest.

This was Keystone Cops stuff.

*

There are errors, and there are errors.

There are technicalities, and there are technicalities.

Some technicalities are about a party not complying with the procedural rules of the court or attempting to put in evidence which is not admissible.

These can be serious errors but they are everyday errors, within the confines of litigation in action.

And then there are errors so fundamental – so basic – that they go to the very ability of a court to even hear a case.

These are jurisdictional errors.

(As Aslan might say, this is the deeper legal magic.)

If a court does not have jurisdiction, it cannot hear a case at all.

*

If one looks at the judgment you will see that the judge – the most senior magistrate in England of Wales – is at pains to emphasise that his decision has nothing with the merits of the case:

4. This ruling is not about the defendant’s innocence or guilt rather only whether this court has jurisdiction to hear the case.

5. Therefore, this ruling is confined exclusively to the question of jurisdiction. It concerns whether these proceedings were lawfully instituted within the statutory time limit prescribed by section 127 of the Magistrates’ Courts Act 1980 and, crucially, with the necessary consents as required by S 117 Terrorism Act 2000.

6. It is neither necessary nor appropriate for the Court, at this stage, to engage with the merits of the underlying allegation, or to determine whether the offence is in fact made out from the evidence.

And the Chief Magistrate ruled that the court had not got jurisdiction:

75. Thus, I am satisfied that proceedings against this defendant were instituted on 21st May 2025 when the written charge was issued. At that time, the necessary consent and permission required by law had not been obtained. As such, the proceedings were instituted unlawfully and are null.

76. I therefore hold that the Crown has failed to establish jurisdiction. The proceedings instituted in this case are invalid and the Court has no jurisdiction to hear them.

*

A jurisdictional challenge is not easy in any area of law. To bring such a challenge means telling the court they cannot even hear the case. These are often “brave” submissions.

And so it is no surprise that the defendant in this case instructed not one, not two, but three King’s Counsel, as well as a junior barrister:

List of three KCs

Such a challenge would require resources not normally available to a defendant.

One wonders how many cases where there has been no jurisdiction have been brought where the defendant could have challenged jurisdiction but did not have the awareness or the means to do so.

*

Some cynics have opined that this was a convenient way for the British state to get rid of what may have been an embarrassing case.

Not so here.

The judgment shows that the prosecutors worked hard – indeed were desperate – to get the judge to accept jurisdiction, and indeed they also knocked out the alternative basis for jurisdictional challenge.

This is actually a highly inconvenient ruling for the prosecutors, meaning they can no longer get by with retrospective consents.

They really will not like this.

Indeed, as Joshua Rozenberg reports at his post, an appeal by case stated is being seriously considered by disappointed prosecutors.

We can bet it is.

*

At the bottom of this mess is a simple point: the police and the prosecutors were careless with terrorism law and careless about its express safeguards.

Things were left to the last minute and a consent (which may or may not have been given) – a step imposed by parliament as a crucial step – was not obtained.

And this mishap meant that the Chief Magistrate of England and Wales had no jurisdiction to hear what was on the face of it a terrorism case.

Police and the prosecutors should remember that this is terrorism law that they are dealing with.

Terrorism law should be taken seriously.

***

Comments Policy

This blog enjoys a high standard of comments, many of which are better and more interesting than the posts.

Comments are welcome, but they are pre-moderated and comments will not be published if irksome, or if they risk derailing the discussion.

More on the comments policy is here.