It’s beyond time to end the scandal of IPP

It comes to something when a senior member of a recent government – the former justice secretary, no less – describes actions by the state that were part of his remit as “overbearing, unfair and almost totalitarian”. Yet this is how Alex Chalk KC, who held that office for 14 months in the government of Rishi Sunak, describes imprisonment for public protection (IPP) orders – which can keep someone in prison indefinitely after conviction for a relatively minor crime.

Ousted from government by his party’s defeat at the last election, and also from his parliamentary seat, Mr Chalk has returned to his legal practice. It is from this perch that he is now asking his successor, Shabana Mahmood, to consider new proposals — from the Howard League and a former lord chief justice, Lord Thomas — with a view to righting this now longstanding wrong, according to The Independent.

At The Independent, we make no apology for returning once again to the iniquity of IPP orders that go against so much of what should constitute any civilised judicial system. Two features stand out. There is the glaring disproportionality in so many cases between the crime and the punishment, with some prisoners having served almost 20 years (and still counting) for offences such as robbing someone of their mobile phone or laptop. This is not, by the way, to diminish such crimes, but to point up the disparity between the standard tariff for such a conviction and the actual time served by many of those still subject to IPP orders.

The other feature is the cruelty of imposing a sentence that has no end, which has been described by the UN as psychological torture. With no prospect of a release date, more than 90 such prisoners have taken their own lives. Altogether, more than 2,500 are still languishing in jail on IPPs.

This is in spite of these indefinite prison terms having been abolished in 2012, just seven years after they were introduced. The clear mistake then was not to have made the abolition retrospective. It applied only to new convictions, not to those already in jail, leaving the glaring injustice that one day could make a difference between someone left to serve what could become a lifetime sentence and someone convicted of a similar crime with a clear idea of the timetable for release or parole.

The failure to make abolition of IPP orders retrospective has had consequences of its own. At least some of those still not released are now so damaged by their experience and will be so hard to rehabilitate that they could indeed present a danger to society if they were released. This is the very opposite of what a penal system should set out to achieve and amounts, in Mr Chalk’s words, to nothing less than a failure on the part of the state.

At which point, there is an obvious and not unreasonable question for the former justice secretary to answer. If the injustices and perverse effects of IPP orders were so apparent when he came to office — as they were — why did he not do something about it? Why did he not condemn the policy in the same terms as he is doing now and make the changes he is demanding be made by his successor?

Part of his answer is that he did do something. He reduced from 10 to three the number of years that a released IPP prisoner was on licence and so subject to recall. That is not nothing, but it was nothing like enough. Two small pleas might also be made on his behalf in mitigation. As he says, there was “not a single vote” in even the change in the licence period that he made, because of the general lack of public sympathy for prisoners.

As he does not say — but is a sentiment with which the current government could well concur — a year can be too short a time in UK politics when it comes to getting anything done. The ponderous nature of the legislative process can be a minus as well as a plus. On the other hand, the size of the Labour government’s majority and the years it still has to run mean it has time on its side.