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Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
The writer is chief executive of Unlock, a charity that campaigns for reformed offenders
Louise Haigh committed a crime more than 10 years ago. Before she was an MP, the woman who was Sir Keir Starmer’s transport secretary until a few days ago pleaded guilty to fraud; magistrates meted out the lowest possible sanction they could. She is said to have told the prime minister about the conviction and told officials (correctly) that she had no “unspent” convictions — convictions that would appear on a basic criminal records check. Those who needed to, knew. Should she really have to tell everybody else? Is she not more than her past?
As well as losing her job, Haigh and others like her still have a criminal record. If she wants to work in any profession, in the NHS or even just volunteer to read in a school, this incident will come up on her enhanced DBS check. But it wouldn’t be disclosed to employers in other western European countries or in many US states because they have a stronger belief that people should be supported to move on.
In 2004, I went to prison for four years for drug offences, leaving five children at home. Those children are now grown up, settled and I am a grandmother. I have taken responsibility, rebuilt my life and relationships and have been working in leading roles in charities for the past 14 years. My prison sentence will always show up on higher-level criminal records checks. And although open about my past, I’m not convinced I should be forced to discuss it in depth every time I go for a new job, apply to volunteer at my grandchildren’s school or travel to the US. I’m soon likely to have difficulty even crossing the Channel — the new post-Brexit visa waiver is not available to many with criminal records.
Is the current system fair? One in four of the working-age population in England and Wales has a criminal record. There is a “shelf life” for many convictions and cautions but even old and relatively minor offences can last for ever on a person’s record.
Of course, England and Wales must have a criminal records system — it gives us extra protection when employing people to work with children and vulnerable adults, or for hiring people in positions of financial responsibility. But do such employers need, or even want, to know that someone was cautioned for being in a street fight 30 years ago? It’s just not relevant.
Many employers understand this. The most open-minded (and those who are not dealing with vulnerable clients) don’t ask about criminal records at all. Others only want to know about recent or serious convictions and won’t immediately dismiss good applicants even if they have such records. But a significant minority are less enlightened and won’t consider applicants with a criminal record, however old or minor. This is lose-lose. Employers miss out on talented recruits while people with records forgo the opportunity to move on in their career.
So what needs to happen to support the employment of people with records? Ideally all employers would be open to giving people a second chance. But culture change takes time.
We also need to make criminal records fairer — to give people a better chance of bettering themselves and contributing to society. My charity is behind the FairChecks campaign to change the law so that fewer old and minor offences show up on checks. For example, we’d like to allow people who committed crimes as children to wipe the slate clean of all but the most serious.
We are not calling for the elimination of criminal records but for disclosure of what is relevant. People make mistakes when young. Coercive partners can pressure some into committing crime. Those who cause harm must make amends but should they be continually punished? I hope we can find a way to balance assessing risk, protecting the public and enabling people with a criminal record to have a chance to start again.