If you’ve not seen Time, the new BBC prison drama, stop reading and watch it now. It’s fantastic. Eye-opening, gritty and powerful, the three-episode series follows Mark Cobden (Sean Bean) and Eric McNally (Stephen Graham), a first-time prisoner and experienced prison officer, on a horrifying journey through the English penal system.
If you’ve not seen it, I’m about to spoil the ending…
Read on at your peril.
The series concludes with prison officer, Eric McNally, being sentenced to four years’ imprisonment for smuggling contraband into prison. While the episode does not dwell on his trial, we assume he receives the sentence for conveyancing ‘List A’ articles into a prison, prohibited by s 40B(1)(a) of the Prison Act 1952:
A person who, without authorisation– (a) brings, throws or otherwise conveys a List A article into or out of a prison … is guilty of an offence.
List A substances include controlled drugs (s. 40A(2)(a)).
S 40B(6) states that this carries a maximum sentence of 10 years’ imprisonment.
McNally pleads guilty and receives the standard one-third reduction from his tariff. His good character and exemplary record as a prison officer of 22 years further reduce this to 4 years.
Then he is taken away in a police van, and the TV audience throws their popcorn at the TV and hurls abuse at the fictional judge. INJUSTICE!
Why? Because McNally clearly commits the s 40B offence under duress.
The inmates learn that he has a son in prison. Through a gang network, they are able to discover the prison in which he is being held – even after he’s moved elsewhere. Protected by the threat of brutalising or murdering his son, the prisoners can then demand that McNally smuggle contraband such as phones and drugs into the prison.
McNally has no choice. All other options result in his son’s death, including leaving his job. “They’d kill him anyway,” he says to his wife.
At the sentencing hearing, McNally explains how he cannot reveal his coercers’ names. To do so would result in action being taken against them, which would in turn result in his son’s death. Notwithstanding this point, the stone-hearted judge sentences McNally to four years, and we see the stoic prison officer taken away in a police van, crushed and weeping.
I found this ending hard to believe. If McNally spoke to a lawyer before his trial, she surely would have advised him to put forward the defence of duress. It’s a moot point, but I think this defence would have succeeded even without him providing the court with the names of his coercers.
Before answering this question, it is necessary to outline the defence of duress in brief.
Duress is a complete common law defence to all crimes except murder and attempted murder (R v Gotts). A “common law” defence means it originates from judge-made case law rather than Parliament-produced legislation. A “complete” defence means it completely acquits the defendant of criminal liability.
The defence of duress by threats is broken into two questions for the jury (R v Graham):
- Was the defendant impelled to act because, as a result of what he reasonably believed the coercer had said or done, he had good cause to fear death or serious injury to himself or his immediate family?
- Have the prosecution proven that a sober person of reasonable firmness, sharing the defendant’s characteristics, would not have responded in the same way?
For the duress defence to succeed, the answer to these questions must be: Yes, No.
Once duress has been raised as an issue by the defence, the burden of proof is on the prosecution to prove beyond reasonable doubt that the defendant was not acting under duress (R v Bone). This is a high hurdle.
Make no mistake: a jury must be left in no doubt that a defendant is not acting under duress.
Juries must consider three important questions when countenancing a duress defence (Re A (Children) (Conjoined Twins: Surgical Separation)):
- Was the crime only committed by the defendant to avoid consequences which could not otherwise be avoided, and which if followed would have inflicted evil upon himself or others he had to protect?
- Was more evil done than was reasonably necessary for that purpose?
- Was the evil inflicted by the defendant disproportionate to the evil avoided?
For the duress defence to succeed, the answer to these questions must be: Yes, No, No. And in McNally’s case, they surely would have been.
McNally has money forced upon him, but there’s no doubt that he is singularly motivated by avoiding the evil consequence of his son’s death or serious injury. To that end he does no more than is reasonably necessary — even finding excuses not to bring in a knife. And the harm of bringing drugs into the prison, though tragically resulting in someone’s death, is not obviously worse than his son sustaining a fatal beating.
If he had pleaded duress, no doubt McNally would not have given names. Would this have precluded his claim from succeeding?
I don’t think so. The governor and his wife could have given evidence to support his case, and there was medical evidence available from when the son was grievously assaulted. There may be evidence of increased drug usage in the prison from that time. And of course McNally was a highly credible witness with an immaculate record. There was no evidence of him receiving traceable bribes. This evidence, in my view, would have been left the jury with reasonable doubt that McNally was acting under duress. His case was not inarguable without him providing a full list of names.
It’s possible that McNally received this advice and chose to plead guilty anyway. Perhaps he believed this was the best way to protect his son. Perhaps pleading that he was under duress, even without giving names and ‘grassing,’ would have triggered an investigation. If the investigation got too close to the truth, it might have ended in his son’s death. Perhaps this is what we, the indignant audience, must believe.
But if this is the case, it doesn’t explain why McNally himself says he is being coerced and unable to give the names at his sentencing hearing. An investigation is just as likely to follow from these comments as from making a duress defence.
Even if I am right, and McNally probably would not have gone to prison, it doesn’t change the fact that Time is right about many of the problems with the English prison system, including prison officers feeling unsafe in their workplace and thinking they need to form alliances with inmates.
A particular threat is smuggled cell phones. These give prisoners an unmonitored connection with the outside world. Prisoners can find out where prison officers live, who their families are, where their kids go to school. They can coordinate gang members and arrange for goods to be smuggled in, such as drugs and weapons. This only serves to make prisons more dangerous.
There are no simple solutions. But what’s clear is that a toxic atmosphere exists in some prisons around the country, and most of us would prefer not to think about it.
Yet a culture shift is needed.
How a society deals with its rule-breakers is a reflection on its humanity.
I don’t believe that prison needs to be uncomfortable to punish offenders effectively. Watching your children growing up, missing opportunities to develop your career, seeing your friends get married and have children. Watching, and not being able to get involved. That is the real punishment, in my view. It works in primary schools, where teachers sit a child out if she misbehaves. And it works with adults.
We do not need campaigns to make prison beds harder, meals more flavourless, conditions austerer. It doesn’t serve to increase the punishment because the worst thing is already happening to prisoners. The world is passing by, and they’re not invited.
Worsening conditions does of course make it harder to build a life worth living after prison. It makes it harder to atone. It makes it harder not to resent society. It makes it harder not to simply give up. And as Mark Cobden suggests, it makes it harder to lead a good life.
Is this not really the moral of Time? That squalid prison conditions, where savagery and gang culture runs rife stops prisons from fulfilling their purpose. People who want to atone for their crimes like Cobden cannot do so in prison because it is a constant struggle simply to stay alive.