Warren’s Charter

No, the blog isn’t back. But I thought it was worth easing my resolve a touch to mark an event that is an antidote, for now, to so much that bothered me last year: a genuinely great Charter decision.

No, make that a terrific Charter decision! The best decision ever! OMFG… The case is Re an application under the Major Crime (Investigative Powers) Act 2004 [2009] VSC 381. This is the resolution (for now) of what I referred to on Charterblog as Bongiorno J’s challenge, here and here.

The case concerns Victorian anti-organised-crime legislation, passed in 2004 at the height of the gangland war (don’t mention the war! It’s suppressed.) which gave the Orwellian ‘Chief Examiner’ the power (on application to a court) to coercively question (or demand documents from) anyone suspected of involving in organised crime. (Similar powers are awarded to the Director, Police Integrity and the Special Investigators Monitor, in police corruption matters.) No, the coercion isn’t torture, but only up to five years in Barwon’s Acacia Unit.

Crucially, the legislation expressly abrogates the privilege against self-incrimination but only provides for a limited immunity against the use of answers in a later prosecution:

39. Privilege against self-incrimination abrogated

(1) A person is not excused from answering a question or giving information at an examination, or from producing a document or other thing at an examination or in accordance with a witness summons, on the ground that the answer to the question, the information, or the production of the document or other thing,
might tend to incriminate the person or make the person liable to a penalty.

(2) Subsection (3) limits the use that can be made of any answers given at an examination before the Chief Examiner, or documents or other things produced at an examination before the Chief Examiner or in accordance with a witness summons.

(3) The answer, or the document or other thing, is not admissible in evidence against the person in- (a) a criminal proceeding; or (b) a proceeding for the imposition of a penalty- other than- (c) proceedings in respect of an offence against this Act; or (d) proceedings under the Confiscation Act 1997; or (e) a proceeding in respect of- (i) in the case of an answer, the falsity of the answer; or (ii) in the case of the production of a document, the falsity of any statement contained in the document.

Section 39(3) stops the examinee’s answers or compelled documents being used against him/her. But the controversy is that it doesn’t stop the later use of evidence derived from those answer/documents being used against the examinee in a criminal prosecution. So, if you are asked to say where you buried a body (on pain of contempt or perjury), your answers can’t be used against you, but the body can! Great. The controversy is heightened because the legislation specifically allows the questioning of people facing criminal charges. (See s29. The Chief Examiner is required to take reasonable steps not to ‘prejudice’ the ongoing proceedings, a nod to an earlier High Court case, Hammond.)

I called this Bongiorno’s challenge, because he decided last year in an unpublished decision that the Charter ‘s rights against self-incrimination mean that courts, in granting applications to the Chief Examiner, should include a condition barring the questioning of charged persons. The present case is an appeal to the Supreme Court against the imposition of such a condition. The identity of the charged person remains a mystery. CoughMokbel! Actually, I have no idea. Hilariously, the identity of the applicant, DAS, ‘a member of Victoria police’, is also a mystery. Joanna Davidson represented him/her/it, and Kris Walker represented VEOHRC, in a rare intervention. [But see the EDIT below.] It’s an all-acronym case! But the A-G was a no-show.

The case went before Warren CJ. Now, I’ve been very hard on Marilyn Warren in my blogging, mainly because of her role in the Unberbelly debacle, but also because of her cavalier treatment of a lesser free speech claim in a leaking case. Those were indeed awful decisions. But I no longer question Warren’s abilities or dedication to the Charter. This decision is a tour de force, not only of Charter law, but also of the law of self-incrimination and evidence. Full disclosure: it also accords (somewhat) with what SARC said in its report on a similar scheme in the Police Integrity Bill: . Go SARC! It also largely contradicts what the Police Minister said in response to SARC’s queries. Sorry Bob…

The whole of Warren’s decision is worth reading, but here are the highlights:

Giuseppe De Simone redux

[EDIT: Here, at last, the post VCAT suppressed, originally written over a month ago. Who knows why the suppression was ordered or lifted? The case is now available online.]

He’s baaaack! Giuseppe De Simone, readers will recall, scored a brief Charter mention on Halloween in his succesful appeal against his conviction for biting a police officer in the aftermath of a supermarket dispute involving an ice-cream he ate. But that isn’t the end of his business in Victoria’s judicial system or, for that matter, his significance for the Charter. In a recent VCAT judgment, he had another bite of the Charter cherry. Actually, it was his third. And it raises one novel issue (involving Charter s. 33, the Supreme Court referral provision) and a host of familiar ones.

The context is a building contract dispute relating to the Seachange Retirement Village at Ocean Grove  (which, for those who don’t know, is quite close to Barwon Heads, which, for those who don’t know, is the real life location of Pearl Bay, which, for those who don’t know, lucky you.) The owners of the land have sued the builders for non-performance (after the Charter s. 49(2) cut-off date, it seems) and the builders have counterclaimed for misleading conduct. In the thick of things is De Simone, managing director of the owners. On 27th July 2006, two days after the Charter became law, he sent the builders, who said they needed evidence of financing for insurance purposes, a letter on an accountant’s letterhead that appeared to confirm financing. Alas, it seems, it didn’t, but was instead a letter about a subsidiary money matter. This led to De Simone being personally joined in the action. The recent VCAT case was De Simone’s attempt to stay that part of the action.

But, before we get there, there’s an earlier Charter angle. The original VCAT officer appointed to the case early last year was Senior Member Roger Young. Young fairly quickly started to have problems with De Simone, who, it turns out, ‘has studied law but has not been a legal practitioner’. The worst sort! De Simone represented himself (for the most part) in the various directions and interlocutory hearings that arose last year and he and Young obviously didn’t get along, with Young often shutting down De Simone’s contributions (and pointedly suggesting he get a lawyer) and De Simone making applications for Young to step down due to apprehended bias (one of which was prompted by the ‘lawyer’ suggestion, which Young conceded was a lame joke.) In the end, it seems, Young just started to lose it, stopping De Simone from making relevant submissions, criticising De Simone for skipping a meeting that Young had excused him from and, most damningly, saying things like: ‘Gee whiz, I’m getting sick of you!’ (Surely likely to be the last non-ironic use of the term ‘gee whiz’ ever.) So, in the middle of this year, in Seachange Management Pty Ltd v Bevnol Constructions & Developments Pty Ltd & Ors [2008] VCAT 1479, VCAT’s (then) acting President Ian Ross exercised his powers to take over the case, citing apprehended bias, De Simone’s fair hearing right and Charter s. 24. The latter was a classic passing mention, with all the lameness and fuzziness that follows from it. Fortunately, Ross’s latest Charter judgment on the case is more substantial.

De Simone’s case for having the civil claim against him stayed arises because the builders not only sued in VCAT but also referred De Simone’s alleged financing letter shenanigans to the Geelong police. De Simone has not yet been charged (either at the time of his application, in July, or the time of the ruling, in late November), but it was accepted by all parties in the hearing that the probability of  a charge of obtaining financial advantage by deception was ‘high’, although the time-line is not known. De Simone’s application therefore raised the same issue as Trevor Flugge’s (successful) stay application: whether the civil proceedings should be stayed to avoid prejudicing the defence of the future criminal proceedings and, in particular, whether the unpopular 1982 judgment of McMahon v Gould, which generally favoured the rights of civil litigants, should be applied. However, whereas Flugge’s action faced some significant barriers to raising the Charter (due to the federal context and the  Charter’s lack of direct application to common law rules), De Simone’s action lacks those barriers: VCAT’s jurisdiction is both Victorian and statutory.

The initial (and most novel) issue in Seachange Mangement Pty Ltd v Bevnol Constructions and Developments Pty Ltd [2008] VCAT 2629 is whether the questions pose by De Simone’s Charter challenge should be resolved by VCAT or by the Supreme Court. De Simone requested the later. Here’s the relevant Charter provision:

33(1) If, in a proceeding before a court or tribunal, a question of law arises that relates to the application of this Charter or a question arises with respect to the interpretation of a statutory provision in accordance with this Charter, that question may be referred to the Supreme Court if- (a) a party has made an application for referral; and (b) the court or tribunal considers that the question is appropriate for determination by the Supreme Court.

(2) If a question has been referred to the Supreme Court under subsection (1), the court or tribunal referring the question must not- (a) make a determination to which the question is relevant while the referral is pending; or (b) proceed in a manner or make a determination that is inconsistent with the opinion of the Supreme Court on the question.

(3) If a question is referred under subsection (1) by the Trial Division of the Supreme Court, the referral is to be made to the Court of Appeal.

This provision is the result of a recommendation by the Consultation Committee. (Interestingly, and pertinently, the Committee’s draft also required a referral to the Court of Appeal instead of the Supreme Court if the referral was from a VCAT President or Vice-President, but that equitable treatment of VCAT and the Supreme Court was excised by the meddlers. )  The Committee explained that sometimes lower courts ‘need guidance on an interpretative question’ and that the Committee ’sees value’ in having the Supreme Court decide them (following notice to the A-G and VEORHC.) So, it’s another plank in the Committee’s ‘don’t let lesser lawyers or officers stuff up our precious Charter; that’s a job for the Attorney-General and the Supreme Court’ philosophy. However, unlike the risible Charter s. 35, this provision is ameliorated by the sensible constraints of requiring both a party request and a determination by the first instance officer, before the higher authorities stick their collective nose in.

God knows why De Simone made his application (relating to both the application of Charter s. 24 directly to VCAT and its application to the procedural provisions in the VCAT Act), though you’d have to wonder whether he just wanted to delay the civil claim against him under Charter. s33(2)(a), which would probably be as good as getting a stay. But the interesting question is when and on what basis such an application should be granted under Charter. s. 33(1)(b). Neither the Consultation Committee’s report nor the EM given even the slightest hint of when a question ‘is appropriate for determination by the Supreme Court’ [sic - or the Court of Appeal.] Here’s Ross’s take:

I am not persuaded that it is appropriate to refer either of these questions to the Supreme Court pursuant to s 38(1) [sic]. The issues raised by the questions were fully ventilated in the proceedings as was the application of the relevant principles to the facts of this matter. In my view the most expeditious course is to determine the application. Any party aggrieved by the decision may exercise their appeal rights and the issues sought to be determined by the referral application may be determined in that context.

Well, I’m not persuaded by this. Surely, the major issue under Charter s. 33(1(b) is whether or not the question is important enough to require authoritative determination, both for the benefit of the immediate matter and for other similar proceedings. The application of McMahon v Gould in VCAT matters would seem to fit the bill, especially given the enormous criticism of that case, including recently in the Supreme Court. The major counter-factor would be the impact of Charter s. 33(2)(a) on the proceeding itself. Perhaps that’d be a weighty factor, but Ross doesn’t discuss whether or not the builders or owners would be prejudiced by delaying the counter-claim against De Simone (who, it must be remembered, was a late joinder to the original dispute between the two companies.) Of course, there’s a certain sense in Ross’s notion that the matter could be dealt with by the Supreme Court on appeal (and that there’s no reason why Ross can’t resolve the matter himself), but that sense seems to be at odds with the whole (elitist) point of Charter s. 33.

Personally, if the parties are willing – or if one party is keen and the other isn’t prejudiced overly –  it strikes me as a good thing to fast-track major issues to the Supreme Court and Court of Appeal, at least while so many crucial things about the Charter remain unresolved. For instance, what really is the point of Bell J’s current lengthy hearings about mental health, FOI and the definition of public authority, when those matters are all so contentious that they will inevitably have to be sorted out by the Court of Appeal (and perhaps the High Court)? If the parties are fine with doing things the slow way, then I have no objection. But otherwise? The quicker these major questions about how the Charter works are authoratitively resolved, the better, surely?

Anyhow, for better or for worse, Ross proceeded to resolve the matter himself. The good news is that he (and, it seems, the lawyers, and maybe even De Simone) were well versed in Charter Operative Provisions 101:

The Charter may impact on VCAT’s work in three ways:

• if VCAT is a ‘public authority’ s 38(1) provides that it would be unlawful for it to act incompatibly with human rights (subject to the exceptions in ss 338(2) and (4));
  
• all statutory provisions must be interpreted in a way that is compatible with human rights (s 32(1)); and
  
• the Charter applies to courts and tribunals to the extent that they have functions under Part 2 and Division 3 of Part 3 of the Charter (s 6(2)(b)).

Oh, thank you Ian Ross! You can read! I’m not being facetious. You are streets ahead of most of your supposed betters on the Supreme Court: the Bongiornos, the Lasries, the Hollingworths, etc. You’ve even noticed the exceptions to the conduct mandate, including the most important one. Praise be. After nearly a year of blogging this stuff, I’m genuinely impressed. Which is actually tragic. Alas – readers of the blog know what’s coming! – Ross’s approach to the subtleties of the Charter didn’t quite match his precise grasp of the basics.

Wrapping up 2008

To date, I’ve covered 47 cases that mentioned the Charter in 2008. There’s another two that I’ve written a post on but VCAT won’t let me tell you about those. And there’s another four [EDIT: five, as it turns out] left. But the clock is ticking and I won’t have time to do a post on each of them. So, instead, here’s a set of short-takes:

Morgan v Department of Human Services (General) [2008] VCAT 2420: This is an FOI case from VCAT, but not the major case foreshadowed in the VGSO seminar, which I think was the subject of hearings last week. Instead, Ms Morgan is a litigant-in-person who alleges that various agencies of DHS committed manner of wrongs against her and her son in relation to eviction from and provision of crisis accommodation. Her initial step was to launch a private prosecution, but the DPP took it over and then dropped it. She then made an FOI request to DHS, who refused to release 128 documents, claiming a variety of FOI exemptions. She disputes the exemptions, hence the VCAT hearing. The Charter appears to arise in two ways: (1) Morgan alleges that the initial wrongs by the DHS agencies included breaches of various Charter rights: equality, privacy, families/children, liberty. Senior Member Robert Davis held this Charter angle made no difference, given that Morgan was already alleging all manner of illegality. Fair enough, though the position might be different for some other rights, like the right to life, that incorporate a right to a state investigation – arguably, FOI is needed to make sure the state doesn’t duck that job. (2) Davis noted that, in interpreted the FOI Act’s exemptions, he had to ‘give regard to [Charter] s32 in particular and the Charter in general.’ But nothing came of this. No sign of any analysis of what rights the exemptions may be incompatible with. I guess that’ll be up to Bell when he delivers judgment in XYZ v Victoria Police.

Kilkenny v Frankston CC [2008] VCAT 256: This is a plain old residential planning dispute from the Melbourne suburb of Seaford. So, what’s the Charter angle?:

Ms Kilkenny and Mr Colgan expressed concern about the potential for overlooking onto their property from a south facing window to the stairwell. Their grounds assert that the window would cause overlooking causing unreasonable loss of privacy. They also asserted that the charter of human rights had been breached as the council had not given adequate regard to their privacy. However, these concerns were allayed when Mr Kirk agreed to the inclusion of a condition on the permit requiring the deletion of the window in question and for it to be replaced with a skylight. Ms Kilkenny and Mr Colgan agreed that with this change, they were no longer concerned about overlooking or that their rights under the charter were breached.

Well, that’s a relief. I bet Phil Lynch will add this one to his list of feelgood stories about how the Charter is making a real difference! I’m sad, of course, because I would have loved for this one to go to the High Court so they could solve the many fascinating issues Ms Kilkenny’s and Mr Colgan’s assertion raises about the potential ‘horizontal effect’ of the Charter!

A R M v Secretary to the Department of Justice [2008] VSCA 266: This is the companion case to the fizzer, RJE. Unlike RJE, ARM didn’t escape his ESO. That’s unsurprising, because he had quite the history of offending (though, weirdly, he only got a short sentence for his most recent offence, which was against a 19 year-old) and, indeed, he conceded that he was likely to re-offend without supervision. His complaint was that an eight-year order was excessive, because of expert evidence that he’d be fine after a three-year course of treatment. The Court of Appeal held, convincingly, that the trial judge’s order of a three-year review (and two-year reviews thereafter) would do. That’s fair enough. Indeed, there seems to be no difference in substance, so why was ARM even in the court of appeal? Anyway, he did have two smaller victories: (1) He managed to head off an astonishing argument by the government that the SSOMA only allowed appeals against orders, not the duration of them. What was that about ‘model litigants’ not relying on ‘technical defences’? (2) He also won a non-pyrrhic victory, by getting the Court of Appeal to suppress his identity. This involved overcoming another nasty technical defence, but was otherwise easy, as the Court of Appeal felt that non-suppression would be a punishment and that there was no public interest in knowing who ARM was anyway. And that’s where the Charter got a passing mention:

In other cases it may be necessary to consider the right to privacy and reputation conferred by s 13 of the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities and, along with it, the effect of s 32 of the Charter on the interpretation of s 42 of the Act.

Yeah, well, in other cases – and in this case, for that matter – it might have been appropriate to consider Charter s 15 too, don’t you reckon? Derryn Hinch would undoubtedly say that Charter s 17 is worth a look too. But, boy, it’s not looking good for his challenge, is it?

Tilley v The Queen [2008] HCA 58: And, in what appears to be the [EDIT: second-] last Charter case of the year, it’s the first one that isn’t in a Victorian court or tribunal, though I guess Kenneth Hayne is still a Victorian of sorts. Not that he went easy on his former court. He was livid that convicted heroin trafficker, Peter Tilley, had to wait almost two years before he got an appeal hearing in the Court of Appeal, and then an astonishing further year before the Court delivered a judgment. (One of Tilley’s co-conspirators (ahem) completed his life sentence during that interlude!) Tilley was now seeking special leave in the High Court because the Court of Appeal, despite spending so long in contemplation, apparently forgot to consider some of his appeal grounds. Before Hayne, he argued that he had only one year left of his five-year non-parole period and an appellate success after that would be pointless unless he got bail. That triggered one half of a High Court precedent on bail pending special leave, but alas Hayne held that Tilley failed the other half, which required that the special leave application had a good chance of succeeding. Anyway, in the midst of Hayne’s raking the Court of Appeal over the coals, he said this:

It is neither necessary nor appropriate to examine here what, if any, consequences now follow in Victoria in this respect from s 25 of the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006 (Vic) and its provision that: “(2) A person charged with a criminal offence is entitled without discrimination to the following minimum guarantees – … (c) to be tried without unreasonable delay”.

Nice to know he’s heard of the Charter. But why wasn’t it necessary or appropriate to actually apply the thing? Two explanations: (1) Charter s. 49(2), the bane of all ‘unreasonable delay’ cases for now. Tilley, of course, was charged yonks ago, but there would seem to be an argument that his proceedings before Hayne were separate from his criminal proceedings. (This makes a mockery of Charter s. 49(2), of course, but it deserves that.) (2) The High Court wasn’t exercising appellate jurisdiction (which might involve reviewing whether or not the Court of Appeal should have applied the Charter during the appeal) but original jurisdiction (and, in particular, s73 of the Constitution, which is the source of the High Court’s bail power.) So, no Charter s. 32 (the constitution isn’t a Victorian statutory provision), no Charter s. 38 (the High Court isn’t a public authority) and no Charter s. 6(2)(b) (the High Court isn’t a Victorian court or tribunal), right? Well, maybe. But what about the Judiciary Act and, in particular, this provision?:

79(1) The laws of each State or Territory, including the laws relating to procedure, evidence, and the competency of witnesses, shall, except as otherwise provided by the Constitution or the laws of the Commonwealth, be binding on all Courts exercising federal jurisdiction in that State or Territory in all cases to which they are applicable.

Now, I certainly know very little about federal jurisdiction – Gummow: ‘I just felt a disturbance in the force!’ – and it may well be that this provision doesn’t bind the High Court exercising original jurisdiction. But, on the off-chance that it does, then wouldn’t it be arguable that Charter s. 25(2)(c) is a law ‘relating to procedure’ and that one or other of the operative provisions – Charter s. 6(2)(b) perhaps – is picked up by s79 in applications like Tilley’s? (As I understand things, this pick-up can even apply to state laws expressed to apply only to Victorian courts.)  And might that mean that Hayne has to rethink that rather restrictive High Court precedent on bail, to the extent that it limits Tilley’s rights under Charter s. 25(2)(c)? Just some crazy speculation, but maybe someone else is smoking what I’m smoking. [EDIT: Hey, someone was, but the Federal Court and the High Court didn't inhale; interpretation is probably the least likely operative provision to be picked up, I imagine.] Not Hayne though, but he did give Tilley a little help, expediting his (doomed) special leave application.

And that’s it for my short takes. Not that short really. Despite my next post, I might just add some additional short takes on the off-chance that more 2008 judgments emerge on Austlii, even next year. But, as for 2009 judgments, you’re on your own.

[EDIT: As promised, here's a short take on a new 2008 case that has appeared on Austlii:

Drummond v Telstra Corporation Limited [2008] VCAT 2630 is an unfair dismissal case trying to qualify as an anti-discrimination case.

The government’s Charter dodge

When I sat in on the hearing that led to R J E v Secretary to the Department of Justice [2008] VSCA 265, one point had me quite confused:

What I don’t get here is that all the arguments were about the mandatory bits of the ESO scheme. But an ESO also exposes you to the discretion of the Adult Parole Board, which can order stuff like mandatory medical treatment, having to ‘reside’ at Ararat Prison, who you can associate with, whether you can use the net, etc. There are plenty of rights limitations there. The Board, of course, isn’t bound by the Charter. So why don’t ESOs engage all those rights? It’s not clear that that’s what the sex offenders are arguing, though. Strange.

Victoria’s SSOMA, in this way, as in so many others, just like New Zealand’s scheme, has two sections specifying the consequences of an extended supervision order. Section 15 sets out some mandatory conditions that apply to all ESOs, ranging from the silly – not committing an offence – to the mundane – reporting a change of name or employment – and the intrusive – not moving address or leaving Victoria without prior permission. But it also includes these three conditions:

(g) obey all lawful instructions and directions of the Secretary given under section 16(1);

(h) obey all lawful instructions and directions of the Adult Parole Board given under section 16(2).

Section 16 provides that these two entities can give any instruction or direction considered ‘necessary’, respectively, to administer and ‘to achieve the purposes of the conditions’ of the ESO. The remainder of the section then sets out examples of what the Parole Board can do, including imposing curfews, banning the subject from particular job,  activities or people, requiring attendance at treatment programmes and the wearing of electronic bracelets, and, most dramatically, telling the offender where he may ‘reside’ (which, the SSOMA now explicitly states, may include the grounds of a prison.) 

In his judgment, Nettle solved the mystery of why Tate nevertheless only addressed the compatibility of s15 with the Charter (notably freedom of movement) and not the far more dramatic provisions of s16:

Counsel for the respondent and counsel for the Attorney submitted that, although it is open to the Secretary or Parole Board to impose onerous restrictions on an offender under ss 15 and 16, when it comes to the interpretation of s 11 the court should presume that the Secretary and Parole Board will act lawfully, and so in accordance with the Charter; and, therefore, that such orders and directions as the Secretary or Parole Board might give would never go further in restricting the rights of an offender than would be demonstrably justifiable according to the criteria delineated in s 7 of the Charter.

My year of blogging the Charter has been an exercise in steadily increasing cynicism and lowering expectations. And yet, even in late December, the government’s lawyers can still manage to make my jaw drop. (And, note that, yet again, the government party to the proceeding – represented by Tate – and the Attorney-General intervening under Charter s. 34 – represented by Davidson – are marking precisely the same submissions, as always aimed at preventing the application of the Charter. What is gained by giving the Attorney a right of intervention in these cases, other than allowing the government the benefit of two voices speaking in unison at the table? )

The government’s submission is its most extreme attempt this year to mininise any possibility of the Charter ever being applied. Under the guise of a stunningly broad reading of the interpretation mandate, its effect, if a court is foolish enough to accept it, would be to prevent the Charter’s interpretation mandate and declarations power from ever being applied to a statute that gave any person or entity a discretionary power to limit someone’s rights. Needless to say, that category covers the vast majority of occasions when rights are limited in Victoria. Moreover, it would also cover a future law that, say, gave a member of the executive a discretion to torture someone, or apply the death penalty, or to force them to convert to Christianity. The terms and prupose of such a law, the government would claim – in court, in public, in a statement of compatibility – is still compatible with the Charter because its discretions will be interpreted as only permitting those actions when they are reasonable under Charter s. 7(2).

It might seem like this argument has a significant pro-human-rights element, because it carries the corollary that all discretionary power conferred by a statute is limited within the confines of Charter s. 7(2). But this apparent generosity is really a cynical move that will replace the general remedies in the Charter’s scrutiny, interpretation and declaration regimes against overly broad statutory discretions with a case-by-case remedy that is afforded by a judicial review action (or, where applicable, a Charter s. 39(1) action), which must be litigated each and every time a government body acts. As well, because the government’s approach is couched in terms of Charter s. 7(2), each instance of litigation will have to be framed in terms of a’reasonable limits’ argument about the particular act in question. As I’ve observed many times in this blog, Charter s. 7(2) assessments of particular conduct have an inherent tendency to be  self-affirming smug exercises in human rights box-ticking. The government’s argument, if accepted, would replace any chance of a human rights culture with an almost completely non-accountable process of lip service.

The Adult Parole Board’s power under the SSOMA is, of course, a case in point. Offenders subject to an ESO will typically lack the time, temperament, resources and energy to go to the Supreme Court every time a condition is added to an ESO. Moreover, the Parole Board is  itself largely impervious to legal remedies, with only a weak form of judicial review covering its most egregious overreaches. Further, it has been exempted from the conduct mandate (in the unlikely event the Charter s. 39(1) would allow any remedies to be sought against the parole board.)  And, then there’s Charter s. 7(2). Consider this argument that the government advanced to press its claim that s. 16, despite its theoretical draconian nature, is actually entirely reasonable in practice:

Reference was made to material put before the court as to the orders and directions which have been given in this case, and it was submitted that it was open to the court to take that into account as evidence of the way in which the Act operates in fact and thus as legislative facts which may assist in the interpretation of the legislation.

Nettle didn’t provide any details about this, but how could any ‘material possibly establish the reasonableness of every one of the conditions attached to every ESO? And how could the parties opposing the government in this case possibly take issue with this assessment during a three-day hearing? I have little doubt that this ‘material’ was nothing but a self-serving analysis by the parole board of how the SSOMA has been applied to keep kids safe, doubtless based on the same expert assessments that founded the original orders? (And can any claim about the Adult Parole Board’s reasonableness in keeping within its powers stand against the history of the Board acting ultra vires in requiring ESO subjects to ‘reside in the community’ at Ararat Prison?)

According to Nettle, the government’s argument that the interpretation mandate magically turns draconian statutory powers into reasonableness-compliant discretions rested on three casest. One, a Canadian decision on Quebec’s language rules, was apparently relied on to back up the government’s above argument that an Act’s reasonableness can be assessed by how it ‘operates in fact’. But the facts relied on in the Canadian case were about regulations, i.e. other laws, not decisions and, anyway, that evidence was rejected an incapable of sustaining a reasonable limits argument. Nettle implied that the government didn’t press this case much. The second case was Kay, a UK decision I’ved previously covered in this blog, where the House of Lords announced that courts adjudicating tenancy matters don’t have to assess each and every decision by a landlord for rights compatibility, but rather assume that the governing statutes will keep the landlords in line. Nettle dismissed that case as about procedure, but there’s a bigger problem with it.  As I covered previously, Kay is really an instance of the UK courts upholding the parliament’s prerogative to legislate incompatibly with decisions of the European Court on Human Rights. Indeed, as I explained, this year, the House of Lords, following another ECtHR rebuff, made an explicit finding that the UK’s interpretation mandate could not be stretched to read reasonableness limitations into a broad statutory power. Are these examples really the best the government could come up with?

Well, it turns out that the government’s third case is much more on point.  

Nettle’s Charter dodge

When I went and watched part of the hearing that led to R J E v Secretary to the Department of Justice [2008] VSCA 265, Maxwell and Weinberg seemed set to throw the Charter at the government, while Justice Geoffrey Nettle seemed to be sitting on the sidelines and even throwing the government a bone or two. That just goes to show that my lousy predicting ability is quite robust. As previously posted, the chatty duo bizarrely didn’t apply the Charter, while Nettle, seeing more value in comity, felt that only the Charter could justify ditching Callaway’s interpretation of s11 of the SSOMA from just two years ago.

And Nettle promptly applied the Charter to do just that. This is, of course, quite exciting: perhaps only the second time the Charter has actually made a difference to the outcome of a case (albeit, on this occasion, only the difference between a majority and a unanimous new interpretation.) Some will see more excitement in Nettle’s discussion of the interpretation mandate:

I acknowledge that, if TSL, Tillman and Cornwall are regarded as having been correctly decided according to ordinary conceptions of statutory construction, it must also be accepted that Parliament’s intention at the time of enacting s 11 of the Act was that ‘likely’ need not mean more likely than not. To adopt now the construction which I prefer is to accept that the intention has changed. But that appears to be the way in which the Charter was intended to operate.

It’s great to see that he’s clearly read Charter s. 32, even giving a bit of lip service to the purposive limitation. And he’s even read some overseas cases on rights compatible interpretation. Glory be. In particular, he adopted the discussion of the UKHRA interpretation mandate by Lord Woolf in Poplar Housing:

(a) Unless the legislation would otherwise be in breach of the Convention section 3 can be ignored (so courts should always first ascertain whether, absent section 3, there would be any breach of the Convention).

(b) If the court has to rely on section 3 it should limit the extent of the modified meaning to that which is necessary to achieve compatibility.

(c) Section 3 does not entitle the court to legislate (its task is still one of interpretation, but interpretation in accordance with the direction contained in section 3).

(d) The views of the parties and of the Crown as to whether a ‘constructive’ interpretation should be adopted cannot modify the task of the court (if section 3 applies the court is required to adopt the section 3 approach to interpretation)

The last of these principles is the most exciting, giving some hope that the Victorian judiciary will break free of slavishly parroting of the most intelligible of the lawyers before it. The second-last, while question-begging, is a reasonable point (and Nettle later tantalises us with an almost-endorsement of Ghaidan, not that UK-style interpretative high-jinx are needed to read ‘likely’ as ‘probable.’)

The first two points, alas, are the Charter-marginalising ‘ordinary interpretation first, Charter interpretation last’ method. Nettle says that he prefers this to Elias CJ’s dissent in Hansen due to its ‘clarity and simplicity’, not to mention its endorsement by Anthony Mason in his post-constitutional-senility life in Honkers. But: (1) The dispute in Hansen was about the interaction between the interpretation mandate and the reasonable limits provision, which is a combination peculiar to Victoria, the ACT and NZ, and doesn’t arise in the UK or HK. (2) Any chance, Nettle, of doing some freaking interpretation of the Charter, i.e. reading its words and structure, looking into its history, etc? Since when have ’simplicity’ and ‘clarity’ been the sole test of a major structural question in a statute? Believe it or not, fundamental rights laws tend to raise some other issues too!

Still, all up, this is a rare instance this year of someone treating the Charter as something other than a bunch of soft suggestions. As Nettle says:

I consider that the interpretation of s 11 of the Act which was adopted in TSL is now inconsistent with an offender’s right to move freely within and without Victoria and the offender’s right to privacy, if not his or her right to liberty. It follows from Lord Woolf’s second direction in Poplar that the Charter cannot be ignored. Consistently with his Lordship’s third direction, however, I consider that to construe ‘likely’ in s 11 as meaning ‘at least more likely than not’ is within the permissible ambit of interpretation, well short of the forbidden territory of legislation.

Are you listening, the rest of the Victorian judiciary? Stop ignoring it.

Alas, Nettle’s relatively solid command of the operative provisions was not matched by his analysis of the rights provisions and the central notion of compatibility. His central reasoning appears in this dross:

Evidently, the purpose of s 11 of the Act is to guard against the dire consequences of the commission of a relevant offence. In some circumstances, that might justify significant encroachments on an individuals rights of freedom of movement and privacy and even liberty. But if ‘likely’ in s 11 of the Act is construed as including a less than even chance, it is capable of rendering the requirement for satisfaction to a high degree of probability illusory. For example, one might, well be satisfied to a high degree of probability (say, 80 per cent) that there is a 45 per cent chance of the commission of a relevant offence, and yet, according to the laws of probability, the risk of the commission of the offence as so assessed would be only 36 per cent. That would mean that a relatively low risk of re-offending could provide a sufficient basis for making an order. Even giving full weight to the purpose of s 11, I cannot conceive of the potentially far reaching restrictions on rights provided for in the Act as being capable of demonstrable justification in the relevant sense unless the risk of an offender committing a relevant offence is at least more than even.

Frankly, I just cannot believe that this is all he could come up with after three days of hearing.

The weakness of Nettle’s reasoning is evident in the very numbers he comes up with.

A very Charter Christmas

It must be the silly season, because why else would The Age cover the Charter?:

STUDENT squatters will try to use Victoria’s charter of human rights to stop their eviction from Melbourne University-owned buildings. The students — who have been occupying the Faraday Street terrace houses in Carlton for the past four months — were summonsed to appear in the Victorian Supreme Court yesterday for an eviction hearing. The Student Housing Action Collective want to use the terraces to create a student housing co-operative, but the university wants to develop it into off-campus student space.

Teishan Ahearne, from the collective, accused the university of using the Christmas break to move against the squatters. “The university is playing Mr Scrooge, attempting to evict homeless students on the eve of Christmas. Their actions are utterly unjust and sneaky,” she said. Yesterday the court heard that the university had begun the proceedings to comply with a building notice issued by the City of Melbourne. That notice said the buildings had to be vacated by January 7.

But Chris Povey, for the students, said his clients would seek to invoke Victoria’s charter of human rights to prevent the university from moving them on. He told the court that should the students be evicted many of them faced homelessness. Justice Cavanough agreed to adjourn the hearing to January 5, but ordered any applications under the human rights charter had to be filed with the court by December 30.

So, the students can spend Christmas in their terrace houses, but, thanks to nasty Charter s. 33 and Practice Note No. 3, they’ll have to spend their holidays swatting up on the Charter.

Alas, as I’ve discussed several times on this blog, the intersection of tenancy law and human rights law is a perfect storm of the Charter’s curmudgeonly operative provisions:

• First, the students need to find a right that has been breached. In conrtast to some of the more heartrending (or maddening) human rights tenancy cases of yore, this one doesn’t seem to involve any families or kids, so Charter s. 17 won’t help. Nor are there discrimination issues. So, everything will have to rest on the narrow shoulders of Charter s. 13(a)’s right against arbitrary interferences in the ‘home’.

• Second, there’s the problem that the Residential Tenancies Act’s statutory language isn’t exactly amenable to re-interpretation to prevent ‘eviction into homelessness’. And there’s also the problem that any such friendly interpretation will be contrary to the rather unfriendly purposes of statutory tenancy law (and, if Hansen rules, may go further than the reasonable limits jurisprudence allows.) (I’ll take the students’ word that they have nowhere to go, though it does remind me of some former friends from my uni days who stole from the Salvo’s. ‘Who’s poorer than us?’, they asked. Fortunately, they both have jobs in top overseas unis now. Maybe that theft let them crawl out of the poverty spiral.)

• Third, there’s the conduct mandate route. But: (a) is the Uni a public authority?; (b) is eviction incompatible with the Charter right against arbitrary interference in the home?; (c) does the RTA provide the uni with Charter s. 38(2) cover? (d) is relief against eviction one of the non-Charter remedies that can squeeze through the thicket of Charter s. 39?

Bah humbug!. But at least the students may emerge (from their studies and their terrace houses) with some very handy expertise on the limits to Victoria’s Charter….

(Charterblog will, unsurprisingly, go quiet for a couple of days. Alas, there’ll be some more surprising quiet not too long after that. See the flurry of posts around New Years’ Eve….)

Maxwell & Weinberg’s Charter dodge

It’ll take me three posts (I think) to cover the fizzer that was R J E v Secretary to the Department of Justice [2008] VSCA 265. This post is concerned with the majority’s decision not to ‘apply’ the Charter when ruling on the meaning of this provision of Victoria’s Serious Sex Offenders Monitoring Act 2005 (SSOMA):

11(1) A court may only make an extended supervision order in respect of an offender if it is satisfied, to a high degree of probability, that the offender is likely to commit a relevant offence if released in the community on completion of the service of any custodial sentence that he or she is serving, or was serving at the time at which the application was made, and not made subject to an extended supervision order.

All three judges on the Court of Appeal overturned a previous decision from 2006 that held that likely didn’t mean ‘more probable than not’, instead holding that that’s exactly what it meant.

But Court of Appeal President Chris Maxwell and carpetbagger Mark Weinberg made those findings without reference to the Charter’s interpretation mandate:

As we have said, our conclusion about the meaning of the word ‘likely’ in s 11(1) is arrived at by the application of ordinary principles of statutory interpretation, in particular the common law rule favouring that interpretation which least encroaches on individual freedom. That choice of meanings having been resolved, the interpretive task does not attract the operation of s 32(1) of the Charter, which provides:

So far as it is possible to do so consistently with their purpose, all statutory provisions must be interpreted in a way that is compatible with human rights.

In view of that conclusion, there is no occasion to consider further the question – debated at some length on the appeal – of the correct methodology to be applied where s 32(1) is applicable. While that is undoubtedly a question of real significance following the advent of the Charter, it is not appropriate that we decide that question when it is unnecessary to do so. The correct result is more likely to be arrived at in a case where the choice to be made is of practical consequence, that is, where the court is able to assess the different results which might be produced by the competing approaches.

This is a dodge and a highly controversial one on a number of levels.

First, the proposition that it’s better to hold off choosing between competing methodologies until they make a practical difference is debatable. Antipathy to this sort of thing is common amongst anti-’activist’ judges (e.g. Dyson Heydon’s love letter to John Howard before his appointment to the High Court, not that he kept his word.) But this practice has previously been known by the friendlier term ‘obiter dicta’ and is part of a venerable tradition of legal development by the courts, on the basis that it is often worth getting the principles right before practical differences start to emerge, rather than long after. The mess that is Charter jurisprudence to date is testament for the benefits of a little ‘early’ guidance from above. Moreover, the claim that it’s better to make the decision in a case ‘where the court is able to assess the different results’ is itself a controversial one, suggesting that choices of methodology are inevitably ’result-driven’. The alternative view is that such ‘hard cases make bad law’. Anyway, if Maxwell and Weinberg really believed in Heydon’s claptrap, then they wouldn’t have resolved a new meaning for ‘likely’ at all, as, according to them, RJE’s order was bad on any test. 

Second, despite their claim not to be choosing between the ‘competing approaches’, Maxwell & Weinberg’s judgment actually made a choice on one issue: their reasoning in this case clearly draws a distinction between ‘ordinary’ statutory interpretation and Charter statutory interpretation, with the latter playing a fall-back role, apparently only applying if there is a further ‘choice of meanings’ available. There’s four problems with that. One is whether or not this two-step approach is consistent with Parliament’s intention in creating a human rights culture, where (presumably) those rights are front-and-centre of the law-making involved in interpretation. Another is that their choice takes at least a step towards resolving the controversial Hansen debate (that the court claimed it wasn’t resolving), as the majority Hansen view depends on drawing a distinction between ordinary and Charter principles of interpretation.   A third  is that it’s not clear that the ‘choice of meanings’ has been fully explored (as the Briginshaw principle certainly contemplates a beefed-up ‘balance of probabilities’ standard when big issues are at stake.) And a fourth is that the judges completely failed to consider the (admittedly controversial) possibility that the Charter might require a lower threshold than ‘more likely than not’,  because of the competing rights of potential victims of child sexual offenders. (More on that in another post.) 

Third, there’s the (sole) issue that divided the Court: whether it’s proper for Victoria to differ from an authoritative ruling of the NSW Court of Appeal on an identical statutory formulation in a similar (but not identical) scheme, simply because it thinks that view is wrong.

The right to lawn bowls

Both of VCAT’s recent EOA exemption decisions were decided on the same day and both took the same inordinate time to appear on Austlii. Fortunately, the second decision, by VCAT Vice President Marilyn Harbison, has a much better Charter analysis, indicating, if nothing else, that there’s not a lot of equal protection against discrimination going on within VCAT.

The issue again is gender discrimination, this time in the world of elite lawn bowls. The origin of the exemption application was two earlier decisions of VCAT. The first ruled that lawn bowls, unlike Aussie Rules, didn’t fall within the EOA’s built-in exemption for gender discrimination in sport:

66(1) A person may exclude people of one sex or with a gender identity from participating in a competitive sporting activity in which the strength, stamina or physique of competitors is relevant.

This decision split the world of Victorian Lawn Bowls between those who thought that the decision had saved lawn bowls and those who thought it had killed it. Various small flurries were decided, with VCAT ruling that the Victorian Ladies Bowling Association had to admit men as members but that it was also allowed to run a one-off women’s event to honour a famous lady bowler. But then VCAT decided to grant a wholesale exemption to re-segregate the elite lawn bowls competitions, on the ground that Victoria’s mixed events didn’t mesh well with the largely segregated national and international lawn bowls world. In Royal Victorian Bowls Association Inc (Anti-Discrimination Exemption) [2008] VCAT 2415, the issue was whether the exemption would be granted again and, of course, Harbison decided that it would.

In contrast to McKenzie’s ruling on the same day, Harbison considered both operative provisions. Her main discussion was of Charter s. 32, which is unsurprising because she was applying a wholly statutory power:

83(1) The Tribunal, by notice published in the Government Gazette, may grant an exemption- (a) from any of the provisions of this Act in relation to- (i) a person or class of people; or (ii) an activity or class of activities…

In response to the applicants’ argument that the Charter wasn’t relevant because this section is ‘clear on its face’, Harbison ruled:

In my view that argument has no merit. In deciding this application, I must consider the Charter because s32 clearly tells me that in interpreting all statutory provisions (and I take that to mean whether they are ambiguous or clearly expressed), I must make sure that I do so in a way that is compatible with human rights. If I am wrong, and the charter only needs to be considered in the event that legislation is not clear, then it is my view that the Charter must be considered in any event because s83 is not clear. It is silent as to the circumstances in which an exemption may be made, and so I must seek the assistance of the Charter in interpreting the section.

Yes indeedy! That’s exactly right. 

Now, onto the next issue: how does the Charter assist? On this point, Harbison herself had the assistance of VEOHRC, who (as always) couldn’t afford to show up, but at least was able to send a letter:

It has been the Commission’s view that the Charter does require a modified approach. The issue as the Commission sees it, for exemption applications, is the impact of s7 of the Charter upon the scope of the discretion vested in the Tribunal under s83 of the Equal Opportunity Act, in the light of the need to revisit its interpretation in accordance with s32 of the Charter. In brief, it is the Commission’s position that s7 of the Charter now defines the parameters of s83 of the Equal Opportunity Act. It follows that the test to apply when exercising that discretion is to ask whether the proposed exemption is or is not a reasonable limitation on the right to equality, using the framework of considerations enunciated in s7. If that analysis identifies that a proposed exemption is not a reasonable limitation on the right to equality then the Commission view is that it should not be granted.

That’s not bad either, although some might see it controversial because it clearly follows the Hansen approach, reading s83 down only to the extent demanded by Charter s. 7(2). While I’ve expressed some doubts about Hansen in some contexts, this context shows why Hansen is necessary, at least some of the time. Given that s83 basically authorises a departure from one of the Charter’s equality rights, it simply can’t be read as wholly compatible with those same rights. So, the only sensible re-interpretation that can occur is to read it as requiring no more than Charter s7(2) requires. (Query whether this reading is ‘consistent with the purpose’ of s83. But who knows what the hell its purpose is?) Harbison backed VEOHRC, but paraphrased its approach as follows:

Looked at in the light of s32 of the Charter, section 83 requires me to consider the purpose of the Equal Opportunity Act, and not make an exemption unless I am sure that the proposed exemption is justified by the purpose of the Equal Opportunity Act, and that the granting of the exemption is compatible with human rights.

That’s a bit vague (and seems to go further than Hansen would), but Harbison’s later analysis basically makes it clear that she will apply her discretion according to Charter s. 7(2). Moreover, she clearly takes the view that the Charter changes the approach to s83, at least in some cases:

This principle might, however, make a great deal of difference to the provision of an exemption where there is no obvious goal underpinning the exemption of redressing disadvantage or discrimination. It will assume particular importance in cases where the result of granting the exemption will be that the exemption will prevent a person from exercising his or her human rights without some public interest benefit from the exemption. It may, for instance, make a difference in cases such as re Boeing Australia Pty Ltd & Ors (2007) VCAT 532.

Oooh. That reads to me as if she knows full well that McKenzie completely buggered up BAE. Harbison later notes that ‘Deputy President McKenzie did not consider herself bound by the Charter in deciding BAE’. ‘[C]onsider’, hey? 

Issue #3: what rights exactly are limited by s83 in general and the proposed exemption in particular?:

Section 7 of the Charter defines what human rights are to be applied in accordance with s32. It is not open to me to make up my own definition as to what is a human right. I must decide whether one or more of the human rights which appear in s7 are engaged by the proposed grant of the exemption. The rights in the Charter which appear to me to be engaged in this analysis are the right set out in section 8(2) to enjoy human rights without discrimination and the right set out in 8 (3) to the equal protection of the law without discrimination. The word “discrimination” is defined in the Charter to mean discrimination on the basis of an attribute set out in the Equal Opportunity Act 1995. Sex is one of the attributes in the Equal Opportunity Act on the basis of which discrimination is prohibited. In the context of this case, the right that I identify therefore is the right of every person to be able to play the sport of lawn bowls without being discriminated against by reason of his or her sex. This right is engaged by the proposed exemption because if I were to grant the exemption, a person of one gender would not be able to exercise his or her right to play bowls in relation to the events limited to the opposite gender for which the exemption is sought.

Snicker.

The right to the Simpsons

Today’s headlines bring news of what we are told are some of the worst child pornography videos AFP officers have ever seen and the startling angle that ‘a retired Victorian QC’ is among those arrested.  We will, of course, never see those videos, nor is there any legitimate reason to think that anyone would want to, outside of the prosecution and defence of those offences.

But this week has also brought two other stories about materials alleged to consist of child abuse (here and here):

A NSW Supreme Court judge has ruled an internet cartoon in which lookalike child characters from The Simpsons engage in sexual acts is child pornography. In a landmark finding, Justice Michael Adams today upheld a decision convicting a man of possessing child pornography after the cartoons, depicting characters modelled on Bart, Lisa and Maggie engaging in sex acts, were found on his computer. The main issue of the case was whether a fictional cartoon character could “depict” a “person” under law. “If the persons were real, such depictions could never be permitted,”Justice Adams said in his judgement. “Their creation would constitute crimes at the very highest end of the criminal calendar.”

Queensland Police say it is a crime for anyone to even watch a viral video of a man swinging a baby around a room. Chris Illingworth, 60, a father of four from Maroochydore, was charged after he posted the video, which he stumbled across on YouTube, on an internet site. The video, which shows the man swinging the baby by the arms, was broadcast on US television and has been viewed by hundreds of thousands of people online. Illingworth’s home was raided after he posted the clip on Liveleak. He was charged with using the internet to access and publish child-abuse material. The charge has proven controversial because the baby – reportedly part of a Russian circus family – is shown laughing and smiling at the end of the clip… In a statement, Queensland Police said the term “child-abuse material” even extended to clips in which a child “appears” to be a victim of cruelty.

Having heard the descriptions of these videos, I have no interest in seeing them. But, that being said, I cannot, for even a second, regard people who do want to see them as wanting to harm anyone or otherwise deserving of anything other than wowserish condemnation. Moreover, and here’s a tricky catch, there’s clearly no way for anyone who doesn’t trust the above descriptions to check if they are correct or not, or to otherwise test whether my judgment on harm is correct: just looking at either of them, and in particular, possessing them on your computer, is a major crime that could land you in enormous and life-long trouble.

The culprit is the definitions that appear in the Commonwealth Criminal Code:

“child abuse material” means: (a) material that depicts a person, or a representation of a person, who: (i) is, or appears to be, under 18 years of age; and (ii) is, or appears to be, a victim of torture, cruelty or physical abuse; and does this in a way that reasonable persons would regard as being, in all the circumstances, offensive; or (b) material that describes a person who: (i) is, or is implied to be, under 18 years of age; and (ii) is, or is implied to be, a victim of torture, cruelty or physical abuse; and does this in a way that reasonable persons would regard as being, in all the circumstances, offensive.

“child pornography material” means: (a) material that depicts a person, or a representation of a person, who is, or appears to be, under 18 years of age and who: (i) is engaged in, or appears to be engaged in, a sexual pose or sexual activity (whether or not in the presence of other persons); …  ; or (c) material that describes a person who is, or is implied to be, under 18 years of age and who: (i) is engaged in, or is implied to be engaged in, a sexual pose or sexual activity (whether or not in the presence of other persons);… does this in a way that reasonable persons would regard as being, in all the circumstances, offensive…

Sections 474.19, 20, 22 & 23 create offences of downloading, uploading and possessing such internet-sourced material, punishable by ten years imprisonment and (presumably) attracted a host of secondary sanctions, not to mention headlines for the famous. 

I’ve previously covered a number of issues when it comes to such material. One narrow one is that children – a definition that extends to 17 year-olds – may produce this material and possess it themselves.  Another, the subject of major decisions overseas, is that ban on apparent, rather than actual, child porn or child abuse material, ranging from sophisticated computer generated images to simple doodling. As such material does not piggyback on actual abuse of children, any ‘reasonable limits’ justification for banning it must rest on the consequences of mere possession and viewing. The United States and Canadian Supreme Courts, by different routes, have held that it is contrary to the right to free speech to ban mere posession of fake porn, as opposed to trying to pass it off to others. A third, raised prominently by the Henson case, is that some material within these definitions may nevertheless have artistic (or some other) merit.

This week’s cases raise the latter two issues. In the case of Simpsons video (definitely) and the Liveleak video (arguably), no child is being harmed. Rather, the police’s case comes down to the ‘appearance’ of harm, something that is clearly caught by the above definitions. Given that, the sole apparent defence for possessing such material (or attempting to possess it) is whether or not ‘reasonable persons’ would regard the videos as being ‘offensive’.  Here’s the Criminal Code’s take on offensiveness:

473.4 The matters to be taken into account in deciding for the purposes of this Part whether reasonable persons would regard particular material, or a particular use of a carriage service, as being, in all the circumstances, offensive, include: (a) the standards of morality, decency and propriety generally accepted by reasonable adults; and (b) the literary, artistic or educational merit (if any) of the material; and (c) the general character of the material (including whether it is of a medical, legal or scientific character).

Now, I have absolutely no idea whether or not either video meets this standard. The Simpsons video sounds like it won’t, of course, but that depends on how accurately it has been described. It it all just cartoon sexual abuse? Or is there some sort of ‘context’ – the trademark humour of the ‘real’ Simpsons – that might attenuate or even remove any offensiveness? As for the Liveleak video, what is described sounds much like just about ever ‘Funniest Home Video’ I’ve ever seen (and, you may recall, that programme had very high ratings.) But, of course, no-one surely would dare to check. Quite the chilling effect. (The issue of whether quite different material, statements to police during a criminal investigation, are child abuse material, and in particular, offensive, has recently been before the courts: see here, here and – a cliffhanger! –  here.)

But, as you can see, I have taken a dare, albeit one that is taken by Channel Ten most nights.

Charter s. 39 vs tenants

The interaction between residential tenancy law and human rights law is a major issue, both here and in the UK. VCAT has already used the Charter to suggest a narrower reading of a provision of the Residential Tenancies Act that would allow eviction. But, in the UK, recent cases have suggested that the interpretation mandate and the conduct mandate have limitations (to preserve parliamentary sovereignty) that might make the Charter less effective as a relief against eviction for tenants than some people think. In particular, the interpretation mandate can’t be used to read broad limitations into a statutory eviction right and landlords who happen to be public authorities are probably fairly free to ‘give effect’ to their statutory eviction rights by acting more or less like private landlords. See here and here. A three-week old case  that just turned up on Austlii, confirms some of these limits and introduces a new one that’s unique to Victoria’s Charter, involving the first ever application of Charter s. 39 to refuse a remedy. Unfortunately, VCAT’s reasoning is more debatable. 

Director of Housing v IF [2008] VCAT 2413  involves, not eviction, but rather the Residential Tenancies Act’s ‘compliance’ scheme, which consists of four stages: a ‘breach of duty‘ notice, a ‘compliance order‘ if the notice is breached,  a ‘notice to vacate‘ if the compliance order is breached, and, ultimately a ‘possession order‘ (i.e. eviction), if the notice isn’t complied with. Whew! In this case, the Director of Housing was attempting to get to the second stage with its tenant, IF. The problem was IF’s alleged conduct towards his neighbours:

The incidents described at the hearing by LS included once when IF threw a log of wood over the fence and hit LS’ wife on the head. LS said that he bought his son a small swimming pool but had to put it away and not allow him to use it. He described an occasion when IF exposed himself to the child. LS called the police, but when they came IF was in his underwear and so drunk that the police said they couldn’t do anything. LS said that every time his wife leaves for her work IF stalks her, walking behind her and calling her “bitch.” Once IF said to LS’ son “your dad is f…ing dead meat – we are going to get him killed.” There have been many threats of death. LS said that IF calls LS a “f…ing Columbian” and yells out that he is going to have LS killed. After the first hearing of this case, on 7 August 2008, LS had to call the police because IF was yelling out that he was going to have LS killed. LS said that IF yells abuse and threats over the fence, and so they have to stay inside and keep the back door locked.. Sometimes IF’s friend SW sits out the front with IF and also yells out abuse at L. LS said that last night – the night before this hearing – a neighbour died and IF, who had been drinking, was yelling out that “the f…ing Columbian killed her.

Broadly, the problem was IF’s alcoholism. LS’s difficulties had been going on for seven years, and (unsurprisingly) LS’s family was on a waiting list for alternative accommodation. A neighbour backed up LS’s account, but IF and IF’s friend blamed LS for the dispute. IF didn’t help his arguments much by threatening LS during the VCAT hearing.

On 24th June this year, the Director of Housing issued IF with a ‘breach of duty’ notice, specifying four incidents of abusive behaviour in the previous month in breach of a statutory duty to not ‘use the rented premises… in any manner that causes a nuisance.’ (The more-apt second part of that duty, which refers to the ‘reasonable peace, comfort and privacy’ of neighbouring premises, wasn’t cited.) The provision governing breach of duty notices states:

208(1) A person to whom a duty is owed under a duty provision or that person’s agent, may give a breach of duty notice to a person in breach of that duty.

(2) A notice under subsection (1) must- (a) specify the breach; and (b) give details of the loss or damage caused by the breach; and (c) require the person, within the required time after receiving the notice- (i) to remedy the breach if possible; or (ii) to compensate the person to whom the duty is owed; and (d) state that the person in breach must not commit a similar breach again; and (e) state that if the notice is not complied with- (i) an application for compensation or a compliance order may be made to the Tribunal…

If someone leaves something smelly in a common area, it makes sense to tell that person to ‘remedy’ that in the ‘required time’ (14 days in most cases) and to not to it again. But it’s not so clear how notices work when the breach of duty consists of a course of conduct that evinces itself occasionally, as happened with IF. What does it mean to ‘remedy’ such a breach within 14 days? And what actions amount to ‘commit[ing] a similar breach again’? These issues were squarely raised by IF, because his neighbours had a quiet month after the notice was given, but another incident (the first of several, apparently) occurred again on 24th July. Did that mean that IF hadn’t ‘complied‘ with the notice, thus allowing VCAT to issue a compliance order?

VCAT Member Geneveive Nihill considered whether Charter s. 32 required her to consider whether or not an interpretation of s. 208 as obliging IF to refrain from abusive behaviour beyond the 14 day remedy period was a limit on IF’s rights. Apparently adopting Tate’s three-step approach to the interpretation mandate, she held that s. 208(1)(d) ‘engages’ IF’s right to privacy but also engages the right to privacy of IF’s neighbours (by promoting them.) Nihill skipped onto Charter s. 7(2) and asked Tate’s third ‘justification’ question. Unsurprisingly, justification was straightforward, given that the compliance scheme merely piggy-backs onto existing legal duties of tenants, which in turn piggy-back onto rights of their own. As enforcement schemes go, the RT Act’s compliance scheme is amazingly attenuated, with multiple opportunities for VCAT review, so it easily satisfied Charter s. 7(2)(e)’s ‘minimal intrusion’ test and the broader ‘proportionality’ test.

This is all well and good, but Nihill’s analysis suffered by not expressly considering the middle step of whether or not s. 208(1)(d) limited Charter s. 13(a). That would have involved considering whether or not s. 208(1)(d) was ‘arbitrary’ or ‘unlawful’. Equally, she also skipped s. 7(2)’s ’subject under law’ requirement. Both of these tests focus on whether or not s. 208(1)(d) imposes a clear obligation on IF. Arguably, given it’s inaptness to breaches that consist of repeated incidents, it doesn’t. Does s. 208(1)(d) apply forever? Will a single moment of abuse breach it? IF, arguably, had no clear guidance on what would be a breach. Nihill was certainly aware of this problem:

I agree that there may be a different interpretation of the operation of section 208 in the light of different facts, and in particular if a person caused a nuisance in a way that was not manifestly similar to the nuisance described in the notice, or if the repeat of the nuisance took place a very long time after the notice of breach was served. In this case, I find that the breach committed on 24 July 2008 was the same as, or strikingly similar to, the previous breaches. I find that the period of time that has passed is not so long as to make it unfair or unlikely that the tenant would be aware that he was breaching the notice.

That’s all very reasonable, of course, but it treats the task of interpretation as one that can vary depending on the facts before the tribunal. As the UK tenancy cases argued, interpretation doesn’t involve declaring a statute applicable or not to a particular factual scenario, but rather developing a broad principle and seeing if the words can be interpreted to fit it. It may well be that the only way to make s. 208(1)(d) Charter-compliant (in the sense of not capturing the scenarios identified by Nihill and, in particular, providing intelligible guidance to people like IF about what they can and cannot do) is to read it in so narrow a manner that it doesn’t capture IF’s conduct in this case. As it happens, I don’t think such a narrow reading of s. 208(1)(d) was necessary in this case. Moreover, if it was, I think there’s a good argument that it would conflict with the purpose of the provision and, arguably, the Charter rights of IF’s neighbours.

The interpretation mandate is too broad a remedy to fix a provision like s. 208(1)(d) which straddles too many scenarios, sometimes limiting a tenant’s rights, other times providing crucial support for the rights of landlords and neighbours. Instead, a more appropriate remedy is the conduct mandate. The conduct mandate, in public housing cases at least, allows s. 208(1)(d) to be given a broad reading, but potentially ameliorates some of its negative effects by barring public landlords from applying it in individual cases where it would work unreasonably. The good news is that just such an argument was made by IF:

The tenant has made extensive and interesting submissions about the landlord’s obligations under the Charter. Essentially the tenant has submitted that the landlord is a “public authority” under section 4 of the Charter, and is therefore required by section 38 to act compatibly with the Charter. It must do so, submitted the tenant, when exercising its powers under the Housing Act 1983 with respect to the acquisition, disposal, development and management of land. In managing this tenancy, including making the decisions to serve a notice of breach and to apply for a compliance order, the landlord exercised these powers. According to the tenant, it did not do so in a way that was compatible with the Charter. I agree that the Director of Housing is a public authority as defined in section 4 of the Charter. This is clearly the case; the Director of Housing is a public official, and the Office of Housing (a unit of the Department of Human Services) is an entity established by a statutory provision that has functions of a public nature

The finding that the Director and the Office are public authorities is, of course, correct. 

Alas, Nihill held that, even if this argument was correct, she couldn’t do anything about it!:

After careful reflection, I do not consider that I have the jurisdiction to go behind the application made by the landlord, and review whether or not the landlord acted in a Charter compatible way in reaching the decision to make the application. In relation to this proceeding, in this jurisdiction, I can only make decisions about the provisions of the Residential Tenancies Act 1997 and the Victorian Civil and Administrative Tribunal Act 1998. The Residential Tenancies Act 1997 is very detailed. It provides jurisdiction for a wide range of decisions about residential tenancies, boarding house residencies, and caravan park residencies. It makes no distinction between private and public tenancies. It does not provide for the review of decisions made under the Housing Act 1983 by the Director of Housing.  Any challenge to the decisions of the Director of Housing made under the Housing Act would need, I think, to be brought in a different jurisdiction. The conduct of government bodies in the exercise of their decision making power is reviewable under the Administrative Law Act 1978.

If this is true, then it’s quite a problem, as it’ll mean that any public housing case will have to proceed in two courts: VCAT and the Supreme Court (and the latter is scarcely geared towards the quick informal hearings that are generally considered necessary to resolve residential tenancies disputes.) Nihill made it clear by a reference to the dreaded Sabet that her finding is a purported application of the dreaded Charter s. 39(1):

39(1) If, otherwise than because of this Charter, a person may seek any relief or remedy in respect of an act or decision of a public authority on the ground that the act or decision was unlawful, that person may seek that relief or remedy on a ground of unlawfulness arising because of this Charter.

So, this appears to be the first time the Charter’s remedies section has been used to deny someone a remedy.  Charter s. 39(1), you might recall, is meant to reduce the amount of litigation under the Charter; it’d be doubtful that this purpose would be achieved by forcing most public housing disputes into the Supreme Court. So, fortunately, it’s probably a doubtful ruling.

The right to Miranda

Two days ago, in Salduz v Turkey [2008] ECHR 1542, the Grand Chamber of the European Court of Human Rights unanimously overruled one of its lower chambers, in a case concerning a young man accused of breach of Turkey’s anti-terrorism laws through his alleged involvement with the PKK. Seventeen year-old Yusuf Salduz, arrested on suspicion of being involved in a PKK demonstration and hanging an illegal banner (“Long Live Leader Apo”) from a bridge, was interrogated for two days by government security officers. In accordance with the then Turkish security laws, he was not allowed a lawyer, though he was told of his right to remain silent. He confessed to the allegations and gave samples of his handwriting, which an expert report was unable to conclusively match with the banner. After his charge, he retracted the confession, but was convicted on evidence including the confession, a further expert report and evidence from his alleged partners in PKK-support.

But the facts scarcely matter. At issue was this ECHR right:

6.3 Everyone charged with a criminal offence has the following minimum rights:… (c) to defend himself in person or through legal assistance of his own choosing…

The terms of this right appear to speak about the trial itself. The ECtHR has held that it (and its allied fair hearing right) can have implications for pre-trial interrogation, but that requirement was couched in terms of flexible reasonableness standards:

National laws may attach consequences to the attitude of an accused at the initial stages of police interrogation which are decisive for the prospects of the defence in any subsequent criminal proceedings. In such circumstances, Article 6 will normally require that the accused be allowed to benefit from the assistance of a lawyer already at the initial stages of police interrogation. However, this right has so far been considered capable of being subject to restrictions for good cause. The question, in each case, has therefore been whether the restriction was justified and, if so, whether, in the light of the entirety of the proceedings, it has not deprived the accused of a fair hearing, for even a justified restriction is capable of doing so in certain circumstances…

But not any more:

[T]he Court finds that in order for the right to a fair trial to remain sufficiently “practical and effective” Article 6 § 1 [the ECHR fair hearing right] requires that, as a rule, access to a lawyer should be provided as from the first interrogation of a suspect by the police, unless it is demonstrated in the light of the particular circumstances of each case that there are compelling reasons to restrict this right. Even where compelling reasons may exceptionally justify denial of access to a lawyer, such restriction – whatever its justification – must not unduly prejudice the rights of the accused under Article 6…  The rights of the defence will in principle be irretrievably prejudiced when incriminating statements made during police interrogation without access to a lawyer are used for a conviction.

This pronouncement recalls the most famous criminal procedure case of all time: the Warren’s Court’s ruling in Miranda v Arizona:

[W]e hold that when an individual is taken into custody or otherwise deprived of his freedom by the authorities in any significant way and is subjected to questioning, the privilege against self-incrimination is jeopardized. Procedural safeguards must be employed to protect the privilege, and unless other fully effective means are adopted to notify the person of his right of silence and to assure that the exercise of the right will be scrupulously honored, the following measures are required. He must be warned prior to any questioning that he has the right to remain silent, that anything he says can be used against him in a court of law, that he has the right to the presence of an attorney, and that if he cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for him prior to any questioning if he so desires. Opportunity to exercise these rights must be afforded to him throughout the interrogation. After such warnings have been given, and such opportunity afforded him, the individual may knowingly and intelligently waive these rights and agree to answer questions or make a statement. But unless and until such warnings and waiver are demonstrated by the prosecution at trial, no evidence obtained as a result of interrogation can be used against him

What was startling about Miranda, and is startling about Salduz, is the mandatory nature of the rule: no lawyer (and no waiver) = no admissible confession. Indeed, the link between the two cases runs deep indeed. Salduz, like Miranda, bases its rule explicitly on the privilege against self-incrimination:

In this respect, the Court underlines the importance of the investigation stage for the preparation of the criminal proceedings, as the evidence obtained during this stage determines the framework in which the offence charged will be considered at the trial..  At the same time, an accused often finds himself in a particularly vulnerable position at that stage of the proceedings, the effect of which is amplified by the fact that legislation on criminal procedure tends to become increasingly complex, notably with respect to the rules governing the gathering and use of evidence. In most cases, this particular vulnerability can only be properly compensated for by the assistance of a lawyer whose task it is, among other things, to help to ensure respect of the right of an accused not to incriminate himself. This right indeed presupposes that the prosecution in a criminal case seek to prove their case against the accused without resort to evidence obtained through methods of coercion or oppression in defiance of the will of the accused…  Early access to a lawyer is part of the procedural safeguards to which the Court will have particular regard when examining whether a procedure has extinguished the very essence of the privilege against self-incrimination.

And Salduz, like Miranda, takes a narrow view of what can count as a waiver of the right to a lawyer:

The Court further recalls that neither the letter nor the spirit of Article 6 of the Convention prevents a person from waiving of his own free will, either expressly or tacitly, the entitlement to the guarantees of a fair trial… However, if it is to be effective for Convention purposes, a waiver of the right to take part in the trial must be established in an unequivocal manner and be attended by minimum safeguards commensurate to its importance…  Thus, in the present case, no reliance can be placed on the assertion in the form stating his rights that the applicant had been reminded of his right to remain silent.

All of this is most exciting in Victoria, where Miranda has never been the rule.

A near miss for the Charter

Victoria’s landmark human rights statute almost got run down by a taxi today:

TRANSPORT Minister Lynne Kosky says an insane killer’s appeal to drive a taxi was one of her first briefs as transport minister. The minister announced a change in legislation this morning, after the Herald Sun revealed a tribunal decision to grant the man taxi accreditation, despite pleas from Victoria’s Director of Public Transport to ban him from the roads. A furious Ms Kosky slammed a loophole that allowed the killer to drive a cab because his acquittal was based on an insanity plea. “If this man was found guilty he would not be allowed to drive a cab, whether he had been rehabilitated or not,” Ms Kosky told 3AW radio. “If he had been found guilty of manslaughter he wouldn’t be able to drive a cab whether he had been rehabilitated or not. “Because he was found not guilty by reason of mental insanity he’s actually allowed.

You’ve got to hand it to those Hun copy writers. ‘Insane killer’ is a masterpiece of accuracy without precision. 

This is, of course, the case I covered three days ago. It’s rare for me to be ahead of the Hun. But, fortunately, the events didn’t fit the scenario I painted a couple of weeks back:

[T]he Charter will only come under threat if it becomes a political football – in other words, if something jolts the public from its present mood of indifference and ignorance.

That’s because Macnamara didn’t apply the Charter (or at least said he didn’t), though he certainly said that what he decided was compatible with the Charter, at least leaving open the possibility that alternative approaches wouldn’t be.

VCAT and Macnamara were the subject of the usual diatribes from the Hun’s readers (some of whom weirdly blamed Hulls too) and some not especially veiled criticism from Minister Kosky:

“I don’t want to comment on VCAT how they’ve made this decision. But I’m really disappointed because the intent of the legislation is very clear. “It is about making sure that customers feel safe when they’re in a cab.” Ms Kosky said she had worked tirelessly to clean up the taxi industry and was incredibly upset a decision was taken that may have jeopardised passenegers. “It is about the perception of safety in our cabs,” she said. “Cab drivers are often alone with individuals in the cabs. “People who drive cabs have a special responsibility and I’ve got a responsibility to give that certainty to the public that they can feel safe every time they pop into a cab.”

That’s a specific criticism of Macnamara’s interpretation of the word ‘comfort’ in s164 of the Transport Act. He didn’t use the interpretation mandate to reach that interpretation, but only because he felt it wasn’t necessary. (His view – correct, in mine – is that ‘comfort’ actually referred to upholstery and the like. No smelly taxi drivers!)

Kosky’s hasty announcement of legislation reforming the ‘loophole’ in the Transport Act that allowed XFJ to fully escape the scheme for limiting the registration of offenders seems like exactly the sort of ‘tabloid-to-statute-book’ legislation that is commonplace in NSW. Fortunately, it seems that the legislation has been long in the planning and, for that matter, it makes perfect sense to close this particular loophole (which caught people found insane after 1997 but not before.) But that change won’t keep XFJ out of the taxi drivers’ seat. It seems obvious that Macnamara would have applied this provision if necessary, which allows all killers, even the super-scary non-insane ones, to clean up drunken passengers’ vomit with VCAT’s permission:

169N(1) A person- (a) whose application for the issue or renewal of a driver accreditation is refused on a ground set out in section 169(2)(b) or (c); or (b) whose driver accreditation is cancelled under section 169E- may apply to VCAT for an order that the Director issue, renew or reinstate the driver accreditation (as the case may be).

(2) On an application under subsection (1) VCAT may by order direct the Director to- (a) issue a driver accreditation to the applicant; or (b) renew the driver accreditation of the applicant; or (c) reinstate the driver accreditation of the applicant.

(3) VCAT must not make an order under subsection (2) to issue, renew or reinstate an accreditation unless- (a) VCAT is satisfied of the matters set out in section 169(1)(b); and (b) the applicant has demonstrated that the issue, renewal or reinstatement is appropriate having regard to the public care objective.

Will Kosky be repealing 169N too? And will she be redefining ‘comfort’ in s164 to expressly include the feelings of taxi passengers (including prejudices against ‘insane killers’)?

The really  interesting question is: what statutory reforms would have been on the agenda if Macnamara had relied on the Charter for his interpretation of ‘conduct’, or for his view that the decision needed to be made in XFJ’s failure and without regard to the unfortunate prejudices of Melbournians?

The Supreme Court vs the Charter

Ever since Bongiorno J brought down his decision in Gray v DPP [2008] VSC 4, applying the Charter for the first time, I’ve been hanging out for the Supreme Court to consider the question again. Back then, I was deeply unimpressed with Bongiorno’s analysis. It appeared to ignore significant elements of the operative provisions of the Charter. In that respect, it was a sign of things to come. Not reading the Charter has been the hallmark of Charter cases this year.  To my surprise, the issue of bail did not speedily return to the Supreme Court or the Court of Appeal. Newspaper reports revealed that Gray was applied in two later cases in the magistrates court. And then, nothing (published.) More recently, the VGSO seminar and an annual report revealed, with no apparent embarassment, that the magistrates courts simply stopped applying Gray. If true, that’s a surprising approach to precedent and sends a dire message about the significance of Charter precedents, even flawed ones.

Today, over ten months after Gray, the case has, at last, returned to the Supreme Court. In one respect, that’s an exciting development: the first time that the Supreme Court has been asked to apply an earlier Charter judgment setting out rights and an operative response. (The only other Charter judgment that’s been cited in the Supreme Court is R v Williams [2007] VSC 2, but that’s just an authority for not applying the Charter.) Alas, in other respects, Re Dickson [2008] VSC 516, is an appalling development, responding to Bongirono’s non-analysis of the Charter with some opposing non-analysis. The Victorian judiciary’s complete inability to do the slightest justice to a short, important statute is stunning, depressing and the entrenched norm.

George Dickson is, it seems, an even less appealing Charter rights claimant than the Charter’s first ever beneficiary, Kelly Gray:

Mr Dickson is charged with 25 counts of armed robbery and 4 counts of attempted armed robbery alleged to have been committed between August and November 2006. The offences apparently all involve armed robberies or attempted armed robberies on 24 hour convenience stores. These are serious offences involving a disguised offender using a knife. The offences involved the removal of, in some cases, tens of dollars and in other cases several hundreds of dollars. Mr Dickson has prior convictions for armed robbery in Victoria and Queensland….

On 3 April 2008 the applicant was sentenced in the County Court of Victoria for obtaining property by deception to 180 days’ imprisonment. On 23 April 2008, the parole on which he had been released in relation to earlier offences was cancelled. He has remained in custody and, as I understand it, has been serving pre-existing sentences and breached parole for a significant portion of the time since then. I am told that even if he were granted bail in this Court, he would not necessarily be released unless he was granted parole. It is by no means clear that would occur either.

But he has a number of things in his favour. First, he was charged on 20th March 2007, bringing him within the Charter’s stupid transitional provision. Second, the relevant bail provision at issue is the same one as was at issue in Gray (another alleged armed robber):

4(4) Where the accused person is charged-… (c) with an… offence in the course of committing which the accused person… is alleged to have used or threatened to use a firearm, offensive weapon, or explosive… the court shall refuse bail unless the accused person shows cause why his detention in custody is not justified…

Third, thanks to the Crown’s decision to lead extensive similar fact evidence at his trial (thus blowing out the expected length of the hearing to three months and requiring a rescheduling), he will spend a minimum of two years and three months in prison awaiting his trial. Indeed, he has already spent a year-and-a-half, engaging the second and third limbs of this interesting right:

21(5) A person who is arrested or detained on a criminal charge- (a) must be promptly brought before a court; and (b) has the right to be brought to trial without unreasonable delay; and (c) must be released if paragraph (a) or (b) is not complied with.

Justice Lex Lasry had this to say about the question of whether or not the ‘delay’ was ‘unreasonable’:

The phrase “unreasonable delay” is not otherwise defined and nor would one expect to be. It must be regarded as descriptive given the particular circumstances. The section also appears to imply that for a delay to be “unreasonable” it would have occurred for reasons not attributable to the fault of the applicant. It was submitted on behalf of the applicant in this case that a total delay of two years and three months is unreasonable. That would be a difficult proposition to reject.

Who knows why the section ‘appears to imply’ that the delay musn’t be attributable to the applicant? Does it say that somewhere? But, anyway, it’s accepted that, in this case, the delay is attributable to the Crown (in belatedly seeking to adduce reams of similar fact evidence) and, perhaps, the County Court, which is notoriously suffering considerable delays. Anyway, Lasry’s finding that 21(5)(b) is satisfied is unequivocal. So, that means that Dickson has the right ‘to be released’. Right?

But, suddenly, Lasry decides to stop reading the Charter and instead goes about the task of distinguish Gray. Not, mind you, on the basis that Gray ignores the Charter’s operative provisions, but rather becuse the facts are different:

It is not submitted on behalf of the applicant before me that he will spend more time in custody than he is likely to serve upon a sentence particularly bearing in mind that his present custody involves revoked parole and is not simply pre-sentence detention. In Gray his Honour further concluded that the applicant was not a flight risk and there was little tangible evidence to suggest that the applicant would interfere with witnesses. Ultimately, his Honour concluded that the applicant had established that his continued incarceration was not justified and he was released on bail. What his Honour’s ruling demonstrates is that the Charter has a significant role to play in emphasising the importance of particular rights, but when it comes to the right to be brought to trial without unreasonable delay, that right remains to be considered within the appropriate or relevant provisions of the Bail Act.  I note at this point that in my opinion the circumstances confronting his Honour in Gray are quite different from those before me. First, in this case given the particular circumstances a significant amount of the applicant’s time in custody might not be reckoned as pre-sentence detention. Second, given Mr Dickson’s mental condition and its apparent connection with his offending, there is a risk that he might commit further offences if he were released. It is put by Mr Atkinson that there is also a risk of interference with witnesses although Mr Atkinson accepts that such a risk is more circumstantial than actual.

These are, indeed, all important differences. But they don’t change the fact that the terms of Charter s. 21(5) are engaged, including Charter s. 21(5)(c), one of the few uneqivocal rights to a remedy that appear in the Charter. Gray, by contrast, didn’t engage Charter s. 21(5)(c), as he had not, at the point of his Supreme Court application, been delayed too long. Instead, the only right he had engaged at that point was Charter s. 25(2)(c), which contains no remedy provision.

So, instead, the question is one of operative provisions. Here’s the argument made by Dickson’s counsel;

Mr Traczyk submitted on behalf of the applicant that the enactment of the Charter has brought about a significant change in the law in Victoria. Prior to the enactment of the Charter, it was submitted, there was no legal right to a speedy trial in Victoria. Mr Traczyk however submitted that s 21(5) of the Charter has clearly created a legal right to be brought to trial without unreasonable delay. It was further submitted that the Charter requires that the provisions of the Bail Act must be interpreted in such a way as to give full effect to this right. Indeed it was initially submitted, on behalf of the applicant, that where a person has been held in custody for a period of time which a court determines is unreasonable, that person should be released on bail, regardless of any other circumstances.

Now, that’s a far from perfect argument, as it appears to treat Charter rights as operative on their own and fails to note the caveats to the interpretation mandate. But, on the other hand, it clearly identifies the relevant operational provision being relied upon. Later, Traczyk makes a less extreme submission:

Mr Traczyk further submitted that even where an unacceptable risk has been shown, the overriding question in determining whether an individual should be released on bail in cases where delay is cited as exceptional circumstances or good cause is whether release on bail is required to give full effect to that individual’s right to be brought to trial without unreasonable delay.

That doesn’t seem to bad an argument. Moreover, Traczyk had a plan to manage any risk posed by Dickson:

It was submitted by Mr Traczyk that if I were inclined to release Mr Dickson on bail I could impose a condition in general terms that he not be released unless and until he was granted parole and that if that occurred, that within 48 hours of release, he report to the North Western Mental Hospital and from then on obey the lawful directions given to him at that institution. Mr Traczyk provided to the Court, on the applicant’s behalf, a letter addressed to the solicitors for the applicant and signed by Ms Elizabeth M. Williams, Psychiatric Nurse at North Western Mental Health. The letter, which is dated 21 November 2008, indicates that should Mr Dickson be granted bail, the clinic at Northern Hospital can offer a Case Management Intake Assessment to the applicant on Friday, 28 November 2008.

A potentially neat case-specific solution to s4(2)(d)’s ban on releasing people who pose an ‘unacceptable risk’. Indeed, there also seems to be an equal protection argument based on Dickson’s diagnosis of schizophrenia, which Lasry was concerned wouldn’t be effectively treated in jail. 

So, isn’t it time, at long last, for a Supreme Court judge to give serious consideration to the meaning and effect of Charter s. 32(1) Alas, no:

I cannot conclude that the Charter requires that the Bail Act be interpreted to allow for an accused to be released on bail, regardless of an established unacceptable risk, whether it be a risk of flight, re-offending, interference with witnesses or otherwise. Section 1(2) of the Charter provides, in relevant part: The main purpose of this Charter is to protect and promote human rights by— (a) setting out the human rights that Parliament specifically seeks to protect and promote; and (b) ensuring that all statutory provisions, whenever enacted, are interpreted so far as is possible in a way that is compatible with human rights; …  Section 1(2)(b) of the Charter requires that other statutory provisions be interpreted “so far as is possible” compatibly with human rights. The provisions of the Bail Act contain no reference to delay or to a right to a speedy trial. In this particular case, the Bail Act requires me to refuse bail unless the applicant shows cause why his detention in custody is not justified.

Charter s. 1???? What freaking planet is Lasry from? That’s the Charter’s purpose provision. It doesn’t have any operative effect. Here’s what the relevant operative provision says:

32(1) So far as it is possible to do so consistently with their purpose, all statutory provisions must be interpreted in a way that is compatible with human rights. (2) International law and the judgments of domestic, foreign and international courts and tribunals relevant to a human right may be considered in interpreting a statutory provision.

Now, granted, it so happens that Charter ss. 1(2)(b) and 32(1) are in pretty much the same terms. But whereas the former is an aspiration, the latter is a legal command. There’s a ‘must’. There’s also a clear reference to relevant comparative law. And there’s also a requirement that any interpretation be consistent with a provision’s purpose. Relying on Charter s. 1 is the kind of thing a (poor) undergraduate student (or Mirko Bagaric) would do.

Now, it’s clear that Lasry thought that the suggested interpretation went beyond what was ‘possible’ under the Bail Act, something Bongiorno failed to consider. Good for him.

But: (1) Lasry doesn’t explain why the Bail Act can’t possibly be interpreted in that way. What words stand in the way? And why? Overseas judgments have made it clear that the natural or settled meaning of words is no barrier. Some go so far as saying that the words themselves are no barrier. Lasry seems to see things otherwise. But why? (2) While, I certainly think it’s arguable that s4(2)(d), which bars bail for people who are an ‘unacceptable risk’, is pretty hard to get around, it’s less clear that the wording of s4(4)(c) is similarly unmalleable, so surely Lasry had to consider whether or not those words needed to be re-interpreted to permit release in a case of unreasonable delay? (3) Lasry neglects any consideration of the purpose of the Bail Act too, which might be a more sound reason to reject the argument put by Gray. (4) Also, if Lasry is right that the Bail Act ‘cannot be interpreted consistently with human rights’ then shouldn’t Lasry be mulling over the need for a declaration of inconsistent interpretation, which would of course require both notice and a consideration of Charter s. 7(2)? (5) I know this doesn’t seem to have been argued, but isn’t there also a conduct mandate issue too, in relation to the OPP and, perhaps, the County Court’s registry?This argument would face some hefty Charter s. 38(2) & 39(1) hurdles, of course, but the remedy of habeus corpus could be apt. (The fact that Dickson was confined on other charges would, of course, seem to be a barrier to them.) Alternatively, there’s the remedy of a stay, which seems to be the (controversial) Canadian approach.

[EDIT: And, (6) When I think about it, the specific reason for Dickson's delayed trial - the Crown's apparently belated decision to lead lots of similar fact evidence and the County Court's willingness to adjourn to accomodate that - seems to carry lots of opportunities for a remedy for Dickson, although it may be too late now. Wouldn't a better response have been to tell the Crown that if it wanted to move the trial date, it'd have to accept the bail of Dickson?]

Eh, why even bother listing all these things? They all assume that judges have even the slighest interest in what the Charter actually says.

The Charter vs taxi passengers

October 31st is the date I pronounced the biggest Charter day EVER, given the thrilling combination of two passing mentions in the Court of Appeal and the revelation on Stateline of the (then) most significant Charter challenge to date. Now, thanks to the slow drip feed of cases onto Austlii, I’ve discovered that that Halloween was even bigger still.

XFJ v Director of Public Transport [2008] VCAT 2303 ponders this question:

[W]ould you want to ride with a man who stabbed his wife to death in 1990, never mind the circumstances? Would you want one of your children to ride in those circumstances?

If not, then you might want to skip catching taxis in Melbourne.

As diligent readers of this blog know, the Charter has already been raised by an insurance fraudster wanting to ride a bus, in the face of the Transport Act 1983’s licensing scheme. Peter Swain’s insurance fraud was a ‘category two’ offence, meaning that there was a presumption against him ever having a public transport licence. But serious violent offenders face a much tougher burden:

169(2) The Director must not issue or renew a driver accreditation if the Director is aware that the applicant-… (b) has been found guilty of a category 1 offence…

VCAT can allow such persons, including murderers, to drive, although perhaps it’d take a brave VCAT member to do so. XFJ, though, managed to slip out of the regime for managing the licensing of criminals altogether, despite these uncontested facts:

XFJ came to Australia in 1989 as a refugee from the upheavals in Ethiopia. He left Ethiopia, travelling through Sudan to Egypt. He says he suffered many hardships in the course of his flight from Ethiopia, including imprisonment and torture in Egypt. In 1990, XFJ, who is now aged 52 years, was in the grip of a serious depressive episode. He was contemplating suicide. Apparently he carried a piece of rope around with him. In the event however, the violent action which he took first was not directed against himself, but against his estranged wife. He killed her with repeated knife blows. Thereafter, he attempted to commit suicide himself by hanging, but the attempt failed when the limb on the tree which he sought to hang himself from broke.

XFJ’s jury found him not guilty of murder on the ground of insanity. He was detained at the Governor’s pleasure and eventually released into the community in 1998 and from all constraints in 2003. The Transport Act has a provision deeming such persons to be offenders for the purpose of the licensing scheme, leading the Director of Public Transport to initially deny him a licence. However, a closer inspection of the provision revealed that it didn’t cover people like XFJ who were dealt with under the pre-1997 insanity regime. Instead, XFJ’s application for a taxi licence had to be dealt with just like most people’s:

169(1) …[T]he Director may grant the application if the Director is satisfied- (a) that the issuing of accreditation is appropriate having regard to the public care objective; and (b) that the applicant- (i) is technically competent and sufficiently fit and healthy to be able to provide the service; and (ii) is suitable in other respects to provide the service; and (c) that the applicant has complied with the application requirements under this Division.

In June this year, safely on the right side of Charter s. 49(3) ,the then Director, Jim Betts, made his decision: to refuse XFJ’s application, citing the public care objective and XFJ’s suitability ‘in other respects’ and, thus, dashing XFJ’s hopes for a flexible job to assist him in caring for his 19-month old, who alas has leukemia.

Appealing to VCAT as his last hope, XFJ raised the Charter. VCAT Deputy President (and Charter virgin) Michael Macnamara dealt with the Charter argument as follows:

I should note that Mr Stanton, on behalf of XFJ, impressed me with a number of arguments arising under the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006. It has not been denied that, having regard to the timing relative to the present proceeding, that the Charter applies. Again, without rehearsing the arguments which were put by Mr Stanton, and the counterarguments put by Ms McKenzie, it is sufficient, so far as the Charter is concerned, for me to note that Section 32(1) of the Charter Act provides:

(1) So far as it is possible to do so, consistently with their purpose, all statutory provisions must be interpreted in a way that is compatible with human rights.
(2) International law and the judgments of domestic, foreign and international courts and tribunals relevant to human rights may be considered in interpreting a statutory provision.

In my view, the approach which I am about to take, relative to the Transport Act 1983, is in accordance with those provisions, and no issue arises of any inconsistency between the Transport Act and the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006. Hence, even although issues relative to the Charter have been raised and argued before me, it is, as far as I can see, unnecessary for me to consider giving notice to, or inviting argument from, either the Attorney General or the Human Rights Commission.

Hey, no fair! I want to hear what those impressive Charter arguments (and counterarguments) are.

More on the sex offenders’ challenge

I happened to be in the legal precinct today and dropped by to listen in at the sex offenders’ challenge in the Court of Appeal. Pamela Tate was speaking (presumably for the Secretary, rather than with her ‘neutral’ hat on intevening for the Attorney-General. At least, that’s sure how it sounded.) There were nine barristers there (presumably three each for the two fiends – I spotted Kris Walker. Some VEOHRC staff were there, but it didn’t look like the commission was intervening. [EDIT: Nope, they are intervening, and will speak after the S-G. So, maybe I'm wrong and the A-G was intervening too? It'd be handy if they could colour-code those wigs of theirs.] There was no talk of a declaration, so I assume none of the required Charter s. 36(3) notices are out on that one.  

It’s dangerous to try to sense the mood when you only watch part of a case – as the mood can be the opposite when the other side speaks – but the case didn’t seem to be going at all well for Tate, with Maxwell and Weinberg both hammering into her. Nettle was quieter and even helped her out every now and then.

Anyway, some tidbits I picked up:

• A comity of errors: One issue (possibly the only one) is the interpretation of ‘likely’ in s11 of the SSOMA. It certainly does seem to be in the cards that the CoA will overrule Callaway in TSM (despite only being a three-judge bench.) Indeed, both sides seemed to disagree with Callaway, with Tate describing his judgment as somewhat confused (which it is.) Hilariously, Tate’s argument is that Victoria should follow the present approach of the NSW Court of Appeal. Regular readers will recall that the NSWCA reached that interpretation reluctantly out of comity with Callaway in TSM! To sustain her argument, Tate had to claim that the NSWCA’s actually misinterpreted Callaway and somehow stumbled onto the right answer.  It’s hard to see how this sort of error can be persuasive, especially when the NSWCA clearly said that, but for comity, it wouldn’t have followed TSM at all but rather would have adopted a stricter standard (which, presumably, Tate thinks is the wrong standard.) Tate, trying to get away from Tilman, relied instead on the follow-up case, Cornwall. Readers will recall that Cornwall was the first bloke the NSWCA refused to detain, ruling that there was no ‘high degree of probability that he was likely’ to re-offend and that electronic supervision would do. He had his bracelet off and melted away within 30 minutes. Surprising that the Victorian government thinks that that’s the perfect test. I guess that Tate will argue that, although the NSWCA stated the correct test in Cornwall, they nevertheless misapplied it to the facts. 

• A non-’trivial’ bar: Tate’s big pitch was that, whatever the test is, it shouldn’t be quantitative. That’s because she knew that the court would then go for the ‘more likely than not’ standard that the NSWCA would have backed were it not for TSM, which would certainly narrow the SSOMA scheme. Not that she said that; rather, she argued (1) it would go against the legislature’s choice to use the word ‘likely’, which she claimed (to Weinberg’s incredulity) wasn’t quantitative. Maxwell kept point out that all that was clear is that the test isn’t normative (e.g. a Briginshaw-like standard that re-adjusted itself according to what issues were at stake.) Tate very reluctantly agreed with that. 2) It would encourage over-reliance on statistical expert evidence. Weinberg’s response was that the best way to stop statistical evidence is to stop asking for it and listening to it. Maxwell was concerned that trial judges need an intelligible standard. He could hardly keep a straight face when Tate suggested that defining ‘likely’ to mean ‘a sufficiently substantial risk’ would provide the required certainty (and wouldn’t be ‘normative’.)  The judges then mooted the idea that the bar should be high indeed, given how extraordinary ESOs are. Tate firmly stated that the bar should not be ‘trivial’. That’s quite a concession. She then embarked on some stats to show that of the 150 eligible offenders released last year, the Secretary only called for reports on 34 and only sought orders on 10. Of those tenm seven were granted and the other three were… pending. Weinberg asked whether that meant that none had been refused. ‘Um’ retorted the S-G, until Weinberg pointed out the math. Tate countered with more stats, which suggested that of 40 court applications to date, ’several were withdrawn’, one was reversed on appeal and one was rejected. A high bar indeed. Attrition stats are always tricky in a discretionary system aren’t they?

• A non-criminal process for locking up criminals: ‘So, you’d better address Charter s 7(2) then’, said Maxwell. Uh, there’s an intervening step, said Tate: have any rights been limited? That is indeed true, but why she wanted to embark down that road is beyond me. But embark she did, passionately arguing that Charter ss. 25(c), 26 and 27 didn’t apply because of Fardon, the High Court’s umpteenth refusal to apply Kable. Maxwell was a bit dubious about the relevance of Chapter 3 to the meaning of ‘punish’, but Tate pressed Gummow’s  ’normative scheme’ approach. According to Gummow, ESOs are nothing at all like criminal sentencing, because ESOs are simply triggered by guilt but are imposed for other reasons. As opposed to sentencing, which… um…. anyway. Tate also mentioned a UK case that Maxwell snorted was about non-contact orders, not supervision. Somehow, the model litigant didn’t see fit to talk about Belcher, where the NZCA held that almost identical legislation was punishment for the purposes of NZBoRA’s criminal process rights. I guess that’s in the written arguments. But why wouldn’t she be responding to what her opponents said on that? I hope they know about it! Weinberg raised the fact that SSOMA says that proceedings are criminal. Tate said that was not-determinative but just a starting point and was just a mechanism to ensure that the Secretary had the same obligations as a prosecutor. Weinberg was confused: does the Secretary usually have less obligations than a prosecutor? Nettle chimed in with something about having to call adverse witnesses. Maxwell suggested that, if the proceedings are criminal, then maybe contested facts need to be proven beyond reasonable doubt? Tate said she was sur that the test was balance of probabilities. But you’ve gotta wonder if that will be true in 2010 when s141 of the Evidence Act 2008 kicks in.

• ESOs and helicopter mums: Tate did concede that ESOs limited one right: freedom of movement. (It’s not clear whether or not the fiends raised any others. Self-incrim, alas, didn’t get a look-in.) So, it’s time for 7(2). Tate started by saying that you need to look closely at the nature of the right. Weinberg said: movement’s pretty important isn’t it? It’s essential to liberty. Tate argued that, at international law, ESOs don’t engage the right to liberty at all. Maxwell asked her to say that again so that no-one misunderstands it. Ouch. She valiantly insisted that ESOs could be likened to mum and dad telling the kids to phone then when they get to their destination. Weinberg pointed out that, regardless, movement was high on the scale in 7(2)(a). Tate sounded unhappy about that. I wonder what’s high on her scale? Life, I guess. What I don’t get here is that all the arguments were about the mandatory bits of the ESO scheme. But an ESO also exposes you to the discretion of the Adult Parole Board, which can order stuff like mandatory medical treatment, having to ‘reside’ at Ararat Prison, who you can associate with, whether you can use the net, etc. There are plenty of rights limitations there. The Board, of course, isn’t bound by the Charter. So why don’t ESOs engage all those rights? It’s not clear that that’s what the sex offenders are arguing, though. Strange.

And that was it for the day. They’re at it again tomorrow, but I’ll skip it.

Again, caution is necessary, but Tate seemed to know that she’s going to ‘lose’ at least 2-1, in the sense that the judges are going to toughen up the TSL threshold to ‘more likely than not’, at least and cite the Charter as the reason. I can’t help but think that Tate is just going through the motions now and planning a High Court appeal, where the judges who were in the majority in Fardon will presumably be more sympathetic to her take on things.

More on Bongiorno’s challenge

Further to this previous post, I’ve belatedly noticed that the Charter issue relating to the coercive questioning powers in the Major Crimes (Investigative Powers) Act 2004 is discussed in the Annual Report of the Special Investigations Monitor (SIM). Here’s the discussion:

During one application for a CPO in the period under review, His Honour Justice Bongiorno raised the possible conflict between s. 25(2)(k) of the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006 (the Charter) and s. 39 of the MCIP Act. The application concerned a person who was already charged by police for the offences the subject of the application for the coercive powers order. His Honour expressed concern that Victoria Police sought to summon that person to attend for examination and therefore be compelled to testify against himself/herself or to confess guilt contrary to s. 25(2)(k) of the Charter. Accordingly, His Honour sought written submissions on the matter and adjourned the application for the coercive powers order until resolution of the potential conflict.

Subsequent to this application for a CPO before Justice Bongiorno, a further two applications for a CPO and an application for an extension of a current CPO were made before His Honour Justice Cummins. The two applications for a CPO were adjourned on the grounds that the same issue as that raised by Justice Bongiorno applied. In respect of the application for an extension of a current CPO, His Honour Justice Cummins imposed a condition in the following terms:

“Any person who has been charged with any offence linked to the organised crime offence – the subject of the CPO – will not be summoned to give evidence (at an examination) until resolution of the issue with respect to s. 25(2)(k) of the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006.”

The Chief Examiner has advised the SIM that on the instructions of the Chief Commissioner of Police, written submissions, to which the Solicitor General has contributed, have now been compiled by the Victorian Government Solicitor’s Office and submitted to His Honour Justice Bongiorno for consideration. Important issues are involved which are yet to be determined by the Supreme Court.

This fits what I previously discussed. It’d be great to see those written submissions. I’ve never entirely understood why these things aren’t published somewhere. How likely is it that the Solicitor-General’s arguments are going to be full of confidential information? 

What is of particular interest is the news that Cummins J imposed a condition on an existing CPO barring its use in relation to charged defendants. Previously, I couldn’t see how a potential breach of the Charter required that this step was taken. But I hadn’t noticed this provision of the Major Crimes (Investigative Powers) Act 2004:

8 The Supreme Court may make a coercive powers order if satisfied- (a) that there are reasonable grounds for the suspicion founding the application for the order; and (b) that it is in the public interest to make the order, having regard to- (i) the nature and gravity of the alleged organised crime offence in respect of which the order is sought; and (ii) the impact of the use of coercive powers on the rights of members of the community.

It could be argued that the interpretation mandate now requires that s8(b)(ii) be interpreted to require the Supreme Court to refuse an order (or impose conditions on it) if to do otherwise would be to authorise a breach of Charter rights. On the other hand, though, there’s a question of whether or not this interpretation is tenable, given the balancing test between crime-control and due-process envisaged by s8(b) and the apparent purpose of the legislature to strike such a balance. Presumably, this issue could be resolved by some close attention to Charter s. 7(2).

Interestingly, the same SIM report discusses a court judgment, CR v Attorney-General [2007] VSC 263, about the limits of the Supreme Court’s power to impose conditions on a CPO:

9(1) A coercive powers order must state that the Supreme Court is satisfied of the matters referred to in section 8(a) and (b) having regard to the matters referred to in section 8(b)(i) and (ii).

(2) A coercive powers order must also specify-… (g) any conditions on the use of coercive powers under the order.

Some cheeky judges started imposing a condition that any witness summons be made by the court (rather than by an alternative provision allowing the Chief Examiner to make the summons.) The Chief Ex challenged this as overriding the legislation’s permission for him to do exactly that. But the court held that the rights component of s8(b) allows courts to override the legislation in that way:

The sex offenders’ challenge

My guess last post was right. (Of course, presumably the whole legal community knew this, but not me.) It’s on!:

Two convicted sex offenders are invoking Victoria’s human rights charter to appeal against being given an extended supervision order in what is a legal first.

One of the applicants is a child sex offender jailed for more than 10 years for his crimes. The man, whose name is suppressed, was convicted for sex crimes against his teenage daughter, another teenage girl and his adult partner. He was given a 10-year extended supervision order when he finished his jail term after a County Court judge found a “high degree of probability” he was likely to further offend. However, his lawyer Graham Thomas SC told a Court of Appeal hearing today his client was not a high-risk child sex offender and therefore not eligible to to be subject to the order.

Mr Thomas also said the sentencing judge had indicated she did not believe the man was suitable for an order but later changed her position. But counsel representing the secretary to the Department of Justice, David Grace QC, said the man’s crimes were premeditated and opportunistic. Mr Grace said the sentencing judge included in her reasons the fact the man had shown a lack of insight into his behaviour by denying his wrongdoing. He said the man jumped bail on the day he was due to attend his court hearing on his application for an extended supervision order and had refused to take part in a sex offenders program, despite being offered many times. Mr Grace said the man continued to “thumb his nose up at authority” and suggested he tried to create relationships with females with children while he was in jail so he could groom them for sexual offending.

The second sex offender is appealing an eight-year extended supervision order imposed on him by the County Court on the basis it is too long. The man, whose name is also suppressed, was jailed for more than a year for indecent assault and will also use the charter to argue his case.

Victoria became the first Australian state to implement a Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities on January 1 and it is the first time it will be considered by Victoria’s appeal court. The hearing before Justices Geoffrey Nettle, President Chris Maxwell and Mark Weinberg continues tomorrow.

Um, it’s actually the sixth time the Charter will be ‘considered’ by Victoria’s appeal court. The appeal court cited the Charter once in 2006 and four times again this year, including in its appalling Underbelly decision. Here’s hoping, though, that this will be the first time the Court actually does the Charter justice, in analysis if not in the final result. Interestingly, all three judges in this hearing are Charter virgins. The case, argued today, is listed for a second day of argument tomorrow. [EDIT: And here's the Hun's take. The tabloid refers to the offenders as 'sex fiends' (fair enough, I guess) and, as is the norm, gives more details of the legal argument than the Age.]

But what is being argued? The article is tantalisingly vague. I can see three types of rights arguments could be made about extended supervision orders (ESOs):

Napping in the High Court

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten [law]–
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door–
Only this, and nothing more.”

Actually, it was Judge Dodd’s aides loudly dropping those law booksto wake him up during a deadly dull drug trial.  On Thursday, the High Court added another short volume. At last, we are blessed with the reasons for judgment in  Cesan v The Queen; Mas Rivadavia v The Queen [2008] HCA 52. The problem of sleeping judges raises two great questions and one silly one:

First, how can you tell if a judge is asleep? Recently, Refshauge J of the ACT Supreme Court had to determine whether he had nodded off during a deeply-dull-sounding matter about tracing improperly transferred Commonwealth funds. Allan Endresz, one of the matter’s twenty-nine defendants, having heard about the High Court allowing Cesan’s appeal, started claiming that Refshauge was occassionally driftig off during the triall. The judge told Endresz that his argument would be stronger if he pointed it out when it happened. Andresz didn’t quite comply, with his next allegation and the alleged nap being separated by a lunch break. However, matters came to a head when Edresz produced one of his employees who had been sitting in the gallery with a notebook. TTime pressures meant that Refshauge himself had to rule on whether he had been asleep at the times noted, which he noticed was as silly (and common) as a judge ruling on whether she or he was biased. He resolved the issue by considering the evidence: that no-one noticed any snoring; that Endresz’s main evidence (a fake objection to test the judge’s wakefulness that received a slow response) was inconclusive; that other counsel disagreed with Endresz’s observations; that Refshauge didn’t recall being asleep; that his notes showed no signs of ’squiggles’; and that the tape recording of the incident was both familiar to him and appeared to catch him coughing. Mystery solved. Refshauge ruled that he had his eyes shut to concentrate and would be cautious about his demeanour in future.

The factualy mystery was less happily resolved in Ceasan’s case. Although the defendants raised Judge Dodd’s snoozes with their counsel, he advised them that they were better off with Dodd than 85% of the NSW judiciary. (French CJ concluded that this wasn’t a reference to the judciary’s sleepiness, but rather their pro-prosecution bias. What a relief!) But they did offer a slew of affidavits from themselves and their supporters on appeal. Conveniently for them, the majority of the NSWCCA (presumably part of the 85%) were so certain that sleepiness was no injustice that they glibly accepted the evidence that Dodd was napping and the ensuring circumstances (presumably assisted by medical evidence about Dodd.) So, facts weren’t the problem in the High Court.

Second, is a sleeping judge a miscarriage of justice? This is the question the NSWCCA came a cropper on, with the majority holding that the judge’s mere physical presence (unaccompanied by actual consciousness) was enough, at least if the judge wasn’t required to make any legal rulings while napping. The High Court overruled that, but on two quite different grounds. The majority focused exclusively on evidence that the jury was distracted by the judge’s napping. Cesan’s sister said:

During the times when the judge was asleep for long periods I noticed that many of the jurors appeared not to be paying attention to what was being said and would appear restless. They would fidget, look at each other, watch the judge, look around, appear to be scribbling and generally appeared to lose concentration. This was very different to how the jury reacted when the judge was awake. At those times they would appear to be paying attention, generally looking at whoever was speaking or at their papers when asked. It was very obvious to me that there was a real difference in the jury’s behaviour when the judge was asleep.

Others testified that jurors joked, and jurors and officials slept while Dodd nodded. The majority held that such conduct was at odds with a proper trial. Trial judges had better be careful not to trigger a wave of yawns in future trials.

The new Chief Justice Robert French took a bolder view, holding that the jury’s conduct was mere evidence of a deeper problem causeed by the judge’s behaviour:

If, by reason of sleep episodes or serious inattention, the reality or the appearance exists that a trial judge has substantially failed to discharge his or her duty of supervision and control of the trial process in a trial by jury, then enough has been made out to establish a miscarriage of justice. 

The problem, French held, is the appearance of justice. Without that appearance, there might be miscarriage of justice. Refshauge better keep his eyes wide open in futere.

French held that the absence of complaint by counsel wasn’t determinative, given the amount of sleep proven and the evidence of jury distraction:

The question whether there has been the reality or appearance of a substantial failure by the judge to perform his or her duty will require assessment of a number of factors including: 1. Whether the conduct of the judge can be said to have affected the outcome of the trial. 2. Whether the conduct of the judge has created a risk that the outcome of the trial may have been affected. 3. Whether counsel raised the question of the trial judge’s conduct at the trial. 4. Whether the jury appeared to have noticed or to have been distracted or otherwise affected by the judge’s conduct.

Alas,  the other four Howard appointees and Gummow didn’ even mention French’s approach. Interesting politics, there. Perhaps they couldn’t stomach the fact that French cited a European Court of Human Rights judgment on the right to a fair hearing for his ‘appearance of justice approach.’ More likely, they were probably pissed off that French spent much of his judgment defining the term ‘miscarriage of justice’, contrary to the Gleeson court’s approach to interpreting appeal statutes, where century-old terms have been belatedly deemed undefinable and definitions are regarded as inappropriate and irrelevant judicial glosses. 

And, now, the silly question: should the defendants get a new trial?

The right to information

I’ve complained before about the shoddy standards of Victorian courts when it comes to giving the public useful access to their judgments. Whereas all other mainland jurisdictions in Australia place all higher and intermediate court judgments (and quite a few lower courts ones) on their own websites or Austlii, only the Supreme Court of Victoria and VCAT (plus a couple of minor entities) give their decisions to Austlii. A new NSW practice note seeks to formalise the removal of judgments from Austlii when their contents might prejudice a trial. Assuming you buy into the whole ’suppression order’ dogma (regardless of effectiveness or proprotionality), that makes sense in theory. In practice, it just means that various judgments vanish in arbitrary ways, often indefintely. For example, despite Joseph Thomas’s trial ending some weeks back, nearly all the various judgments in his case (from Cummins J’s appalling admissibility ruling in 2005 to Curtain J’s appalling sentencing judgment more recently) are still not available on Austlii.

I raise this because of a particular mystery about VCAT decisions. I recently covered the interesting Charter/Disability Act decision, LM [2008] VCAT 2084. The day of my post, the judgment vanished from Austlii and is yet to re-appear. Who knows why? Maybe there’s a concern about LM’s privacy, but it is surely important for Charter applications to be on the record. As someone who’s spent years trying to prise case files out of courts, I’m well versed (in that narrow field) with bureaucrats’ tendency to keep information to themselves whenever they can (and to use that control over information to deflect attempts to establish any right to get it.) The dawn of FOI legislation (albeit never applicable to courts) has changed the courts’ rhetoric from ‘mine!’ to ‘we are protecting litigants’ privacy!’, but their conduct is identical. Will the dawn of the Charter make any difference?

In a three-week old VCAT decision that mysteriously materialised on Austlii this week, McDermott v Victoria Police (General) [2008] VCAT 2183 – read it quick before it vanishes! – the applicant, trying to prise documents out of Victoria Police’s Ethical Standards Branch and the Office of Police Integrity about a rejected complaint he made to them, tried out a vague Charter argument to convince VCAT to override some FOI exemptions:

In his reply to counsel for the respondent, counsel for the applicant also submitted that the public interest override should be invoked because the process of sampling was unfair, the Charter of Human Rights had not been observed, the process was one-sided and his client was hampered in his case by being placed at a severe forensic disadvantage by his inability to have all the file available for the benefit of cross-examination of the police witnesses.

VCAT Senior Member Noreen Megay didn’t resolve what the Charter argument was all about:

In counsel’s reply he referred in passing to the obligations imposed by the Charter of Human Rights but this was not a matter articulated during the running of the hearing. Certainly it was referred to, again in passing, in a preliminary argument about the subpoena issued by the Tribunal at the request of the applicant and was dealt with in the preliminary ruling.

Meh. Another inarticulate attempt to raise the Charter, without (it seems) any attempt to identify either operative provisions or rights that are engaged. (Charter s. 49(2) shouldn’t be a problem. The incident complained of and the complaint itself occured in 2006, but the complaint, and the ensuing FOI application, were lodged in 2007. Charter s. 49(3), though, might bite to the extent that McDermott was relying on the conduct mandate as it applies to Victoria Police, who failed to make a timely decision in November 2007 and ulitimately reached its conclusion in December 2007.)

So, what operational provisions were at issue? Probably both the interpretation and conduct mandates. The relevant provision of the FOI Act is this one:

50(4) On the hearing of an application for review the Tribunal shall have, in addition to any other power, the same powers as an agency or a Minister in respect of a request, including power to decide that access should be granted to an exempt document (not being a document referred to in section 28, section 29A, section 31(3), or in section 33) where the Tribunal is of opinion that the public interest requires that access to the document should be granted under this Act.

This section’s foundation is the fact that, often, government agencies have a choice on whether or not to release information. Public authorities must now make that choice in accordance with the Charter’s conduct mandate:

38(1) Subject to this section, it is unlawful for a public authority to act in a way that is incompatible with a human right or, in making a decision, to fail to give proper consideration to a relevant human right.

If not granting access would limit someone’s Charter rights, then access must be granted (subject to the Charter s. 38(2) defence, which presumably would apply in the case of some exempt documents.) Section 50(4) of the FOI Act has been interpreted as only permitting VCAT to make such a decision on an agency’s behalf if the public interest ‘necessitates’ it. But, if the conduct mandate requires entities to grant access, then perhaps s50(4)’s concept of ‘public interest’ should be interpeted as encompassing that very circumtance? (This would be subject to such an intepretation being consistent with s50(4)’s purpose. I’m no FOI wonk, so I have no idea.) On one reading of s50(4), VCAT is standing in place of the original decision-maker ‘the same powers as an agency’ (which include duties, like Charter s. 38(1)), so arguably VCAT is bound to order release under s50(4) if the agency should have released.

But all of that is by-the-by unless there is a right being limited.

The right to bite

Friday’s other Charter case – or, more exactly, other passing mention of a possible future application of the Charter by a dissenting Court of Appeal judge – was a criminal appeal, R v De Simone [2008] VSCA 216.

In 2004, businessman, property developer and walking criminal law exam problem Giuseppe de Simone was shopping for groceries at the Coles in Barkly Sqaure, Brunswick. Alas, his shopping, while otherwise routine, included opening a four-pack box of ice-creams and eating one of them, an event observed by two store employees. When de Simone fronted at the check-out, the box was nowhere to be seen and he made no mention of it. After he was challenged, he claimed to have forgotten about it and offered to pay for a whole box and keep only three of the ice-creams. The store manager would have none of that, insisting that he pay for the whole box and keep none of them.

After that promising start, things went downhill. Voices were raised. The store manager tried to stop de Simone from leaving. A secutity guard intervened and the police were called, responding to a claim that someone was being ‘aggressive’. When the two cops arrived, an argument erupted and all three ended up on the ground. It was at that point that de Simone bit Constable Baynes on the forearm. De Simone later insisted that he was being suffocated and needed to bite the officer to breathe. The incident quickly led to the use of handcuffs, capscium spray and the issuing of charges of theft, intentionally causing injury and assaulting a police officer. 

Alas for my law students, the interesting theft charge was dropped. Although de Simone was convicted of the other charges and fined $6000, the Court of Appeal unanimously allowed his appeal on the grounds that the trial judge fluffed his response to a jury request to read the transcript of evidence of eyewitnesses to the events before the bite. They generously entered an acquittal, on the ground that a new trial would be ‘a scandalous waste of public money’, though Mark Weinberg JA chastised de Simone as foolish and pointed out that his actions were costly for both himself and the community. Oh, that wasted unfinished box of ice-creams! (It seems that de Simone has a habit of getting into these sorts of tangles.)

The Charter issue arose in relation to a further question (which wasn’t necessary to decide) about the legality of the police’s actions. Except in special circumstances, police cannot use force to arrest someone without first telling them that they are under arrest and the reasons for that arrest. De Simone testified that the police didn’t tell him he was under arrest, but rather just leapt on him while he was loudly asking to see a lawyer. Several independent witnesses didn’t hear the arresting words either. But the police insisted they went by the book. Justice Neave discussed the possibility that the police said the words but de Simone didn’t hear them, noting that there was a line of authority that suggested that the lawfulness of an arrest depends on what the police said, not what the arrestee heard. Believe it or not, one UK precedent involved the arrest of a deaf man who couldn’t lip-read. Neave footnoted that precedent (and the more routine scenario of an arrestee who can’t speak English) with the following comment:

Query whether this conclusion could be challenged under the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006.

Like Warren CJ in the other Charter case brought down that day, Neave unfortunately didn’t state which right she had in mind.