A Tory with attitude: What Findlay gets wrong about law and order

Because by-elections in multi-member wards strongly favour the locally dominant party, SNP vacancies were always likely to be taken by the Tories – who’re out in front in terms of first preferences in three of these four wards – but them’s the rules, and a win’s a win. Their new leader Russell Findlay has decided to feel encouraged.

Findlay’s working slogan – “common sense, for a change” – deserves ­grudging credit both for its pithiness and its ­cynicism. In just five words, you have the emotional heart of what appears to be ­Findlay’s main argument. Politics is ­broken. I’m not a ­politician. I’m not ideological. My ­opponents are at best out of touch and at worse perverse. Vote for me.

There are few rhetorical turns more ­suspect than politicians begging for votes by pretending to be outsiders, promising to be unpolitical, offering plain home cooking – but last week’s presidential results from the States are likely to encourage folk like Findlay peddling a similar kind of politics.

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Findlay gave his first major speech last week. It was a bit of a mishmash of themes and tones, combining a populist pitch with potentially unpopular policy ­commitments. In a speech calling for an end to “the ­student politics of gimmicks and cheap headlines that come with costly price tags”, there were inevitably a wide range of gimmicks and reasonably-priced slogans in search of a headline.

Findlay’s opening gambit explicitly ­positioned him as anti-establishment. “Many people across Scotland believe that our politics is rotten. With a lack of trust in politicians deep-rooted and unlike ­anything I’ve known in my lifetime,” he said.

But when it came to policy and public spending, Findlay set to deploying a false dilemma like a seasoned political pro: “We believe pensioners who’ve worked hard all their days should be able to afford winter heating before asylum seekers are gifted free travel.”

From this, he segued into Tory crowd-pleasers about taking an axe to ­Scotland’s “bloated quango culture”, ­cutting the rates for “tortured taxpayers”, ­cutting “freebies” like baby boxes and free ­prescriptions, before turning to a ­discussion of “the false allure of unchecked individualism” and appealing to the “sensible centre” like some kind of LibDem.

As an unformed politician, this ­unstructured melange of policy ideas, ­critiques and rough character work seems in keeping with what we know about ­Findlay so far. Former friends and ­colleagues describe him as a man with no obvious interest in politics when they knew him, never mind someone harbouring covert ambitions to enter parliament or lead a parliamentary party. ­Ideologically, he’s skating all over the pond.

But there are some constants. ­Predictably enough, crime has featured heavily in Findlay’s early messaging as Tory leader. There is a logic to this, both in personal and political terms. Crime is Findlay’s comfort zone. Before getting himself elected to Holyrood in 2021, ­Findlay worked as a tabloid crime ­reporter whose efforts to report on ­organised crime fraternities saw him take sulphuric acid in the face after an attack at his home.

(Image: PA)

First elected just three years ago, ­Findlay began leading his party on criminal justice issues. His approach hasn’t been the usual Tory law and order story either. Yes, there have been the standard claims of “soft-touch justice” and wedge cases. But having a go at Police Scotland and Scotland’s prosecutors has also featured surprisingly heavily in modern Scottish Tory rhetoric. Findlay might seem like an unlikely fan of 1980s hip-hop, but his ­political rhetoric has often echoed one major NWA hit of the period.

Although the issue of crime and ­criminal justice has never entirely gone away, no major Scottish party has ­attempted to put crime front and centre in their policy ­platform since 2010. ­Under Iain Gray, Scottish Labour tried to oust the first ­minority SNP government by running on a platform of mandatory six-month jail terms for anyone caught ­carrying a knife.

Scottish police recorded just under 6000 such cases that year. Successive BBC Newsnight interviews painfully ­exposed the fact the party hadn’t begun to cost the police in revenue or capital terms, undermining not only the viability of the policy but their credibility during a difficult election year for Labour.

Although the Scottish Tories have kept up a low drumbeat on “soft-touch” ­criminal justice, we haven’t ­experienced a serious effort to ride this kind of ­penal populism to political success since. ­Findlay – rightly, I suspect – senses an ­opportunity to occupy this otherwise ­vacant political territory.

Public consumption of crime stories remains high – higher than ever, perhaps, given the glut of true crime podcasts.

Perceptions and reality don’t always align. According to statisticians, recorded crime has fallen by 53% since 2008 in Scotland, but the prison population is higher than ever. A few weeks back, the Cabinet Secretary for Justice and the Lord Advocate both made important statements in Parliament that stirred only a whisper in the media.

Angela Constance confirmed that Scotland’s jails are, yet again, more than full. Capacity – there’s almost none. When Constance made her statement, there were 8322 people in the custody of Scottish prisons, more than a quarter of whom were on remand, denied bail, awaiting trial.

Remand is another one of the practical scandals of our public life we barely talk about. Defence lawyers have described their clients spending more than a year in prison, just waiting for the start of their actual criminal trial. Anecdotally, others have described cases where the conclusion of the trial and a guilty verdict has resulted in their clients being freed from custody, having already spent so long in custody they’ve already served out the full tariff for their crimes before the court has even convicted them.

For those who are ultimately acquitted having spent months and years in custody – nothing really seems to be done. How widespread this is is difficult to say for sure, but it hardly seems the hallmark of gentle handling of suspected criminals by a system stacked against victims of crime.

Populist politicians can always make hay about cases where the punishment doesn’t seem to fit the crime. Findlay has well-honed tabloid instincts, after all. But if you’re going to slag off stunts and ­catchphrases, people might expect you to have a passing interest in what is actually happening in the world rather than being dazzled by the shapes and shadows cast by the magic lantern in your head.

(Image: Newsquest)

Because there’s rising evidence that the courts are actually sentencing ­people to longer spells in custody than they used to for the most serious crime. Under ­Dorothy Bain as Lord Advocate, ­Scottish ­prosecutors now routinely appeal against serious sexual offences sentences for ­being ­unduly lenient, sometimes ­adding several years to the prisoner’s tariff. In the most ­recent case, an eight-year prison term for a man convicted of 17 sexual offences was increased to 12. But in media terms, it might as well not have happened.

Take homicide as another example. Over the last 20 years, the number of murder victims in Scotland has fallen by a remarkable 58%. According to Scottish Government statisticians, “the biggest ­reduction in homicide victims over the last 20 years has been amongst young ­people aged 16-24.” There were 57 ­homicide incidents recorded in 2023/24.

But at the same time, experimental ­statistics coming out of the Scottish Government suggest that murder sentences doled out by Scots courts have increased – and increased significantly – during the same period. The only sentence available to judges in murder cases is life imprisonment, but the sentencing judge also has responsibility for setting the minimum term which must be served before ­prisoners can ask for parole.

Twenty years ago, the average punishment part of a life sentence in Scotland was a little more than 13 years and eight months. By 2021, this figure had risen to 18 years and nine months, a hike of over five years on the average sentence. The serial killer Angus Sinclair received the longest-ever punishment for this role in the World’s End Murders in 2014, sentenced to a ­minimum term of 37 years.

In February this year, Lord Beckett sent Iain Packer to prison for at least 36 years for the murder of Emma Caldwell and a truly wicked catalogue of other offences against a large number of women over the whole miserable span of his lifetime.

You can pick a range of historical comparators, but here’s one. Abdelbaset Al-Megrahi was convicted of 270 counts of murder by a Scottish court in ­January 2001. He got 27 years, cut short by his compassionate release from custody. ­Remind me what you were saying about soft-touch justice again? Alternative ­perspectives on how the criminal justice system should work are the stuff of ­politics. But politicians can’t be entitled to alternative facts.