Rogers' confession and the cloak of confidentiality

The Rogers v TVNZ case (in which TVNZ was injuncted from screening the videotape in which Noel Rogers confessed to the murder of Katherine Sheffield and re-enacted the murder at the murder scene) is shaping up to be a fascinating case. [Earlier: Rogers video] The following comments on the case from a couple of my colleagues are republished with permission - and my own follow (UPDATED with further comment, 9/2/2006) Steven Price:

WHY ROGERS IS WRONG The issue was whether TVNZ could be restrained from broadcasting a video of an interview with Noel Rogers in which he confessed to the murder of Katherine Sheffield and re-enacted the murder at the murder scene. The video was ruled inadmissible by the Court of Appeal, on the grounds that Rogers had not properly waived his right to a lawyer when he re-enacted the murder. TVNZ obtained the video when the police gave it a copy, about six weeks after the video was made, and well before his trial. The High Court (Venning and Winkelmann JJ) awarded the injunction against TVNZ. Amicus Julian Miles QC had supported this outcome. Here’s why I think the judges got this wrong. THEY BASED IT ON THE TORT OF INVASION OF PRIVACY – WHICH DOESN’T APPLY HERE This was, I think, the first privacy injunction since the Hosking case was decided. I don’t think the elements are made out.

1 Did the video contain private facts? The fact of the video, and the fact that it contains a re-enactment and confession, have been widely reported. Rogers had made 22 confessions and admissions over the years, most of which were admitted in evidence at trial. I’m not clear that the video contained any extra information. If so, it would be easy to protect just that information rather than the whole video. Any other “private facts” would have to relate to his demeanour in the video – arguably it’s a stretch ordinarily to call this private facts. Anyway, in light of the publicity, and the extensive discussion during a public trial of his confessions, it seems difficult to attribute to any extra facts on the video the quality of privacy that the CA discussed in Hosking. The judges simply said there was no evidence before it of publicity about the video. I’m not sure whether this is a legitimate complaint about a gap in the evidence or a failure on the part of the judges to take (judicial?) notice, during a quick-pace interlocutory hearing, of an obvious fact. (They are later quite happy to assume without evidence that whatever programme TVNZ will screen would “undoubtedly receive a widespread audience” and that TVNZ would use the video to impugn the jury’s acquittal of Rogers.) It doesn’t seem that the judges watched the video, or compared it with any information that had come out at trial. (I understand that TVNZ had permission to record the trial, which adds to the public nature of the information revealed there.) 2 Did Rogers have a reasonable expectation of privacy? Well, he was with police officers, one of them pointing a camera at him, recording a confession which he’d freely agreed to give, with no real suggestion that he was mentally impaired, for use in a public trial against him, in a sensational case that had already attracted great publicity. I think this comes way back in the catalogue of situations where one might have reasonable expectation of privacy. In addition, he was largely repeating evidence that he’d already given and that was to be used against him. The court said that his consent to the video (which he’d given half a dozen times, including in writing and on video, after being cautioned, and after explicity waiving his right to have his lawyer present) was flawed because he wasn’t expressly told that his lawyer had made an agreement with police for Rogers not to be interviewed without him being present and he therefore didn’t waive *that agreement.* Now, that may be relevant to the admissibility in court of the evidence. In fact, the CA ruled the video inadmissible because of it. It seems to me a very questionable decision given the very clear evidence of consent and waiver, and Elizabeth McDonald, the criminal law lecturer in the office next to me, thinks so too. But even if it’s a good decision, I think (contrary to the judges’ view) a pretty technical one, and it doesn’t determine the outcome of a different legal question about whether Rogers had a reasonable expectation of privacy when he made the video. The judges say he wouldn’t have expected the police to give the video to the media. Maybe so, but (a) I doubt he thought about it (b) if he did, I doubt he would have thought that police couldn’t give a video to the media (c) if he was savvy enough to form a view on the legality of the police giving the video to the media, he would presumably also have known that such videos can be, and sometimes are, obtained for broadcast through a search of court records and (d) I’m inclined to think his mind would be focused on the fact that the video might be used against him in a public trial, with its own attendant publicity. Did the fact that it was ruled inadmissible change that? The judges think so. But this rather depends on how you cast the reasonable expectation. Is it reasonable to expect that an inadmissible confession would remain private? Maybe it is.

Is it reasonable to expect that if the media have got hold of a copy of such a confession before the trial won’t broadcast it afterward? Maybe not. Is it reasonable to expect that an inadmissible video confession will remain private if the reasons it was inadmissible (to punish police misconduct and to ensure a fair trial) no longer apply once the trial is over? I wouldn’t have thought so.

3 Would publicity have been highly offensive to an objective reasonable person? Again, it depends how you cast it. I think our objective reasonable person might be highly offended to learn that an inadmissible and incriminating video was being broadcast to the nation. On the other hand, it may not seem so highly offensive that the public were able to see a plainly cogent piece of evidence relating to a murder that remains unsolved despite two people’s confessions, to help them evaluate the workings of our justice and policing systems. The judges say that Rogers has already withstood a public trial (without noting that a documentary would help the public understand that trial); that TVNZ would focus on the part of Rogers’ defence was that he confused reality with a dream (the judges rather play into this prejudice against Rogers because they don’t note the other, quite convincing, aspects of his defence); they conclude that in broadcasting the video, TVNZ would be highlighting evidence that Rogers hadn’t had a chance to meet at trial (without noting the broadcasting standards requiring balance); they say that TVNZ may be harassing an innocent man (without noting, of course, that the courts aren’t in the business of finding people “innocent”, and that a balanced documentary might equally produce a picture of the vindication of an innocent man, or a convincing revelation of a guilty man let free; or a at least an illustration of the workings of the justice system. 4 Was there legitimate public interest? Surely, yes. A woman has been murdered here. Two people have confessed; one has had his conviction overturned; another was acquitted. There are allegations of police misconduct. There seems no question that the video is relevant to that murder and the misconduct. The court of appeal excluded it for reasons that are controversial. There has been widespread coverage of the chain of events in this case, dating back 10 years.The media has covered this latest development as if the jury would have convicted if they’d seen the video. I can’t see how anyone can argue sensibly that seeing the video isn’t in the public interest – along with an informative and balanced discussion of the case, sure. I suspect that it was unfortunate that TVNZ conceded [para 71] that the video’s content wouldn't help in the scrutiny of the CA decision to rule it inadmissible. On the contrary, viewing the video would help the public to assess Roger’s voluntariness, the scope and willingness of his waiver of rights, particularly with regard to his lawyer, the seriousness of the breach of his rights by the police, whether or not Rogers was indeed - as the CA found - “in a position of distinct vulnerability” the probativeness of his evidence, and it’s consistency with the rest of the evidence in the trial – so that we can get some idea of what was lost when the CA ruled it inadmissible.

THEY APPLY THE WRONG THRESHOLD FOR RESTRAINT As the judges point out [para 26], the CA in Hosking laid down a high threshold for injunctions, which are only available if there is “compelling evidence of most highly offensive intended publicising of private information and there is little legitimate public concern in the information. In most cases, damages will be considered an adequate remedy.” And yet, bizarrely, at para [77] they apply the wrong test – not the test for an injunction, but the test for ordinary privacy infringement. Where’s the “compelling” evidence of “most” highly offensive conduct and “little” legitimate public interest? The judges find that damages won’t be an adequate remedy. Of course they do. It’s easy to argue in any privacy case that damages won’t be adequate. From one perspective, they never are. But if anything, there’s less at stake in this case than most others. We already know the juicy bits. We know about the video. We know it contains a confession. We know it contains a re-enactment. The bulk of the damaging privacy infringement has already happened. It’s not as if the video contains information about his sexual identity or medical condition. The cat’s out of the bag, Noel. If there’s residual harm to your privacy that you can establish at trial – have some damages. THEY KEEP REFERRING TO IRRELEVANT CASES The judges draw at length from cases that concern search of court records, and in particular Mahanga. These cases lay down the principles the courts are to apply if someone applies to search their records for access to documents or videos etc. That’s not what’s happening here. The media already have the video – they’re not making an application to the court to be allowed to see it. What’s more, the media have obtained it without unlawful behaviour on their part (the legality of the police behaviour in releasing it to them is, I think, not established yet, but isn’t relevant to the lawfulness of the media’s behaviour). Anyway, the point is, there’s no good reason why the court’s principles developed in relation to statutory provision about the discretion to allow access to its own records should be transported to a situation where someone wants to publish something they’ve obtained themselves and are being restrained on grounds of privacy. Even if the search rule principles are applied, then what about looking at the very recent CA decision in Jackson v Canwest? There, the CA dismissed what I think is a much stronger claim to privacy than Noel Rogers’. It upheld a HC decision allowing TV3 to obtain from court records - and broadcast - the confession of a man who was explaining that he had to kill his partner because she was the devil. At trial, there was uncontested psychiatric evidence that he was suffering from paranoid schitzophrenia at the time. He was psychotic, disturbed, and couldn’t understand his BOR warning. There was psychiatric evidence that the broadcast would impede his rehabilitation. But the court would have none of it. I’m not saying they’re wrong (though I wouldn’t have been inclined to criticise a decision that went the other way). But the case does show a pretty clear approach to the search rules in privacy cases – one very much based on openness - and the judges in Rogers didn’t discuss it. There are also plenty of arguments that can be made on the basis of the Mahanga principles themselves that didn’t find favour with the judges. An emphasis on maintaining public confidence in the judicial system, for instance, may have taken the judges down the path of accepting that a TV company ought to be given the fullest opportunity to explain what had happened in a case that has clearly shaken public confidence. Infuriatingly, the only US case cited was Nixon v Warner communications [para 33]. The most infuriating thing about this is that one of the shining beacons in US free speech jurisprudence is the principle that the media cannot be prevented in advance from publishing material they’ve obtained lawfully, unless the sky is about to fall in. (Remember the Pentagon Papers case? Where’s the reference to that?) The other infuriating thing is the ridiculous dicta quoted from Nixon to the effect that contemporaneous court reports are likely to be more fair and balanced than subsequent ones, because later reports are likely to be rendered lop-sided by the selective release of particular exhibits. Where to start with this? Have you noticed that trial coverage is especially fair and balanced? Usually, it’s a reporter’s patchy take on some aspects of one day of a continuing hearing. Those aspects may or may not be the most significant. The story may or may not put them in context. The counter-arguments may or may not be reported. They may come up the next day, and be reported in a story that the original reader may or may not read. An overview at the conclusion of a trial is much more likely to be comprehensive. And that’s partly because it may be able to include facts that were kept from the jury or not discovered (or revealed) by the lawyers. Of course, this also overlooks the broadcasting standards requirements of fairness and balance. The judges (and the judge in Nixon) do make a fair point that defendants should not have to bear the stigma of the unrestricted repetition of illegally obtained evidence. But again, Nixon was an access-to-court-records case. THEIR BACK-UP GROUND IS UNCONVINCING The judges had power under section 138 of the Criminal Justice Act to suppress “evidence adduced” or “submissions made” in criminal proceedings if it’s in the “interests of justice” to do so. They said that if it had proved necessary they would have made an order under this section. But… the evidence wasn’t adduced. It was inadmissible. No, say the judges. This is a “restrictive, literal” reading of section 138. It was adduced during the admissibility hearing. I wouldn’t be so annoyed at this conclusion if I thought they’d reached it with proper reasoning. What we have here is an ambiguous provision. If so, under the Bill of Rights Act, it’s supposed to bear the meaning most consistent with rights of free speech. On the face of it, that’s the narrow “restrictive” meaning. But they don’t mention section 6 (or the section 5 balancing process, from which it might be possible to conclude that the expansive reading is demonstrably justified.) Nor do they mention the enormous jurisprudence on the companion section – section 140 – which is used for name suppression, and which you’d think might be analogous. The starting point in those cases is open justice. The threshold is high. THEY GIVE THE NZ BILL OF RIGHTS ACT SHORT SHRIFT THROUGHOUT The CA in Hosking make it clear that the BORA pervades privacy law. It’s also supposed to pervade statutory interpretation. Although the judges set out the relevant principles, they form no part of their actual reasoning. This sort of judicial lip service is common, and it sucks. The judges should be noting free speech as the starting point, then identifying what they are aiming to achieve by limiting it. Would this limitation achieve it? Are there other less restrictive ways of achieving it? Is the benefit to Rogers’ privacy proportional to the harm being done to free speech? I’m frankly not convinced that any of the objectives that might be advanced here are really be served by the injunction when you take a good look at it: Control of police misconduct (but publicity to the misconduct which led to demonstrably cogent evidence being excluded may help deter later misconduct, not hinder such control) Protect Rogers’ privacy (but as discussed, there’s not much privacy left in the video; not, I’d argue, enough to outweigh the harm to free speech – besides which, he still has his remedy in damages if he can make out his case) Reinforce respect for the processes of the court (ie in excluding evidence) – but those processes are not being breached by showing the video now – they only forbade its admissibility. A fair and balanced documentary may enhance respect for the court by properly explaining the rationale for the decisions that were made. My hunch is that in relation to Rogers, respect for the court is not at an all-time high. Encourage others to give video evidence in future without being concerned about it being broadcast on TV – There’s something in this, I think, and Marie Dyhrberg gave evidence to this effect. Still, not all lawyers I’ve spoken to agree with her. And for the reasons I discussed earlier, publicity for a video is unlikely to be uppermost in the minds of people confessing – they must at least expect this evidence to be used against them in a public forum, so they’re hardly expecting complete privacy. Besides, the existing law is that they are sometimes made available under the search rules anyway. Moreover, a less restrictive way to meet this concern may be to regulate the police release of the videos. …so I think TVNZ should win in the CA. But don’t forget that Julian Miles QC doesn’t. He even thinks that the judges could have founded their decision on the basis of contempt.

Nicole Moreham:

[W]ouldn’t it be better to analyse this case in terms of breach of confidence? The argument would go something like this: 1. The video and its contents (which I guess would be any ‘information’ contained in it which wasn’t already in the public domain) became confidential when the court ruled that it was inadmissible. 2. The officer who released it did so in breach of an obligation of confidence. (This could be an equitable obligation of confidence or a contractual one, depending on the officer’s employment contract). 3. Whether TVNZ can be held liable for taking the video as a third party depends on whether it knew when it took the video that the officer giving it to them was acting in breach of confidence (ie. AG v Observer Ltd etc). It seems to me that by casting the action that way, the court would hone in on the real wrongdoing – if it is wrongdoing – namely the release by the police of a video which has been ruled to inadmissible. It would also avoid running rough shod over the privacy action which, in my view, is ill-suited to deal with an encounter which all of the parties thought was destined to be pored over in open court.

My own comments:

Much of the discussion of Rogers appears to be predicated on the notion that the Police disclosure of the video tape was somehow unlawful, inappropriate or sinister. From what I can discern, the proactive disclosure does appear to be odd. However, I’m not convinced that the starting point is that there is some sort of protective cloak that falls over the videotape or that its disclosure was illegitimate. In my view, the tape could easily and legitimately have made its way into the public domain. It follows that Rogers claim of a reasonable expectation of privacy or confidence ground must fall away? My reasoning is as follows: 1. The video forms part of the Police’s material from their investigation. It is trite that this material is covered by the Official Information Act. The presumption is that such material will be made available. 2. Of course, there are grounds on which the Police could withhold the information but it must be remembered these are permissive (in the sense that the Police can, but do not need to, rely on these grounds). 3. Such material was/is routinely made available to an accused under the OIA (and, latterly, for natural persons, the Privacy Act), although I am unsure whether or not the Police, as a matter of practice, routinely invoke the withholding grounds for such requests by other persons. 4. In general terms, the OIA itself does not contemplate that withholding grounds should be applied differently according to the identity of the applicant (although, in some cases, the public interest assessment may vary). If the material can be made available to an accused, there should be no reason why it should not similarly be made available to any person. (As an aside, I’ve routinely advised complainants in prosecution matters that, because of the OIA/LGOIMA, there is no guarantee their identify will not be disclosed.) 6. If the Policy were minded that the tape become public, they needed only to have someone request a copy (it’s unclear whether the disclosure of the tape was related to any request or was wholly proactive disclosure). 7. The only absolute restrictions on disclosure are set out in section 52: s52. Savings— (1) Nothing in this Act authorises or permits the making available of any official information if the making available of that information would constitute contempt of Court or of the House of Representatives. (2) Nothing in this Act authorises or permits any person to make information available if that information relates to— (a) the affairs of any estate under administration by Public Trust or in the Maori Trust Office; or (b) The affairs of any person concerned in any such estate. (3) Except as provided in sections 50 and 51 of this Act, nothing in this Act derogates from— (a) Any provision which is contained in any other enactment and which authorises or requires official information to be made available; or (b) Any provision which is contained in any other Act of Parliament or in any regulations within the meaning of the Regulations Act 1936 (made by Order in Council and in force immediately before the 1st day of July 1983) and which— (i) Imposes a prohibition or restriction in relation to the availability of official information; or (ii) Regulates the manner in which official information may be obtained or made available; or (c) Any provision of any Order in Council made under the Commissions of Inquiry Act 1908 or of any other document by which a Royal Commission or commission of inquiry or board of inquiry is appointed. 7. Notably: (a) The High Court’s reliance on the Police Regulations 1992 to augment the cloak of confidentially falls away because even if the Police Regulations imposed restrictions on disclosure, they are overridden by the OIA because they were made after 1983. (b) Contempt of court comes into play (OIA doesn’t authorise disclosure which would amount to contempt of Court). But, in my view, the Court cannot pull itself up by it’s bootstraps by arguing the tape should be suppressed because it has “touched” the court process when the key reason behind suppression is not related to the court-process but rather the initial disclosure. (c) I’m unaware of any other enactment which restricts disclosure? (d) Section 52 takes out any argument about the Privacy Act applying (despite the Privacy Act having a mirror provision). It seems to be accepted that the OIA prevails over the Privacy Act. (Again, as an aside, has anyone done any thinking on whether the two Acts can be reconciled? This seems to be arguable. That is, although the privacy ground under the OIA is permissive, it is *required* to be interpreted consistently with the terms of the Privacy Act?) I’ve put in an OIA request to test my analysis; however, despite the above, I’m not taking bets on being successful...

Ursula Cheer:

I’m not sure I followed Dean’s argument all that well. He appeared to be suggesting that the police have some kind of right to release information and it would be an easy thing to decide. I don’t accept that. In any event, here’s what I said about reconciling the OIA regime and the Privacy Act in Media Law in New Zealand, 5th edition, p 278: "The Privacy Act does not apply unless the information is about the person requesting it. Other requests are subject to the Official Information Act and should be dealt with under that Act, which takes a contrasting approach to the Privacy Act because it is based on a principle that information should be made public unless there is good reason to withhold it. … Certainly the relationship between the two Acts is not well understood. If the official information requested includes personal information, the question for the public sector agency is: is withholding it necessary to protect the privacy of a natural person or a deceased natural person?( Official Information Act 1982, s. 9(2)(a).) If so, there may still be an overriding public interest in making the information available. If any personal information is released in this manner in good faith after being properly considered under the Official Information Act, there can be no breach of the Privacy Act." In my view, in considering any request from a third party for the video, the police would have had to consider the very issues considered by the court – the privacy issue and the matter of public interest. That would by no means be an easy decision to make. But once released, as long as they dealt with the matter in good faith, there could be no complaint by Mr Rogers under the Privacy Act, but only for breach of privacy or confidentiality. In any event, here the release was not under the OIA, and there appears to be strong evidence suggesting unlawful release. Would an OI request have been dealt with in good faith in such circumstances? Who knows?

My comments:

Ursula and others I think you raise a good point, namely what is the nature of a public authority’s obligation in relation to the withholding grounds: (a) public authorities are obliged to invoke the withholding grounds if they apply; (b) public authorities are obliged to consider the withholding grounds but may make a judgement that they don’t apply or are overridden by the public interest (c) public authorities may release information requested without consideration of the withholding grounds. I’ve always considered position (c) applies (but am open to persuasion). Section 15 is the primary decision-making obligation: “Subject to this Act, the [public authority] shall... [d]ecide whether the request is to be granted and, if it is to be granted, in what manner and for what charge (if any)...”. The withholding grounds arise under section 18: “A request made in accordance with section 12 of this Act may be refused only for one or more of the following reasons, namely [the various reasons and administration grounds for withholding information]”. My interpretation is that section 18 is an enabling power or permissive provision, largely because of the inclusion of the word “may” and the presumption of availability. There is some case law (in another context) that suggests such wording does not give rise to any obligation to invoke such a power or to even consider whether it could be invoked (see Body Corporate 970101 v Auckland CC (2000) 6 ELRNZ 183 and Heretaunga Residents Assn Inc v Hutt CC 17/2/04, Wild J, HC Wellington CIV2003-485-1158; cf About Heritage v Wellington CC 4/6/03, Ronald Young J, HC Wellington CIV-485-841). I think this means a public authority is therefore entitled to release requested information without considering (either as a matter of policy or in the particular case) whether it is entitled to withhold the information. I also think this accords with the practical reality. It would be chaos if public authorities were required to consider in each and every case whether any withholding ground applies. I suspect some public authorities just release anyways or do so without any real assessment of the withholding grounds (either the privacy ground or any of the other grounds). That said, I’m open to a “special interpretation” for the privacy ground. It may be possible to read the Privacy Act and the OIA together to require the privacy ground to be invoked if the limitations in IPP11 apply. However, I think this requires a re-assessment of the relationship between s7 of the Privacy Act and s52 of the OIA, because presently it is clear, as you point out, that the OIA prevails and the privacy interests are assessed solely under the OIA. One last point, I’m not sure I agree with the comments in your final paragraph: “But once released, as long as they dealt with the matter in good faith, there could be no complaint by Mr Rogers under the Privacy Act, but only for breach of privacy or confidentiality.” First, I’m not convinced there is any “good faith” prerequisite for the OIA to prevail over the Privacy Act; this applies automatically due to the savings provisions. Secondly, the section 48 immunity (which does, though, have a good faith prerequisite) would be a complete answer to any breach of privacy or confidentiality claim.

Taxi drivers, sex crimes and retrospective legislation

A few people have criticised the new section 29A of the Land Transport Act (which prevents people convicted on certain offences from holding passenger services licences) for being retrospective and saying it breaches the Bill of Rights: see Peter Dunne, NoRightTurn [1], [2] etc and, generally, DomPost: "New transport law will 'destroy my life', taxi driver says" and NZ Herald: "Driver sex-offence law may change". I agree its bad law but it not double jeopardy or retrospective legislation (at least not in the sense that the Bill of Right is concerned or, in my view, objectionable on this basis either). The new section s29A prevents people convicted of various serious offences from holding passenger services licences and cancels any such licences already granted:

s29A.Persons convicted of specified serious offences prohibited from holding or applying for passenger endorsement— (1) A person who has been convicted of a specified serious offence on, before, or after the commencement of this section may not hold or apply for a passenger endorsement on his or her driver licence. (2) A passenger endorsement is deemed to be expired and of no effect if held by a person who has been convicted of a specified serious offence on, before, or after the commencement of this section. (3) In subsection (1), specified serious offence means— (a) murder; or (b) a sexual crime under Part 7 of the Crimes Act 1961 punishable by 7 or more years' imprisonment (other than an act that is no longer an offence); and includes a crime under section 144A or section 144C of that Act; or (c) an offence against any of the following sections of the Crimes Act 1961: (i) section 173 (attempt to murder): (ii) section 174 (counselling or attempting to procure murder): (iii) section 175 (conspiracy to murder): (iv) section 176 (accessory after the fact to murder): (v) section 188 (wounding with intent): (vi) section 189(1) (causing grievous bodily harm by injury): (vii) section 191 (aggravated wounding or injury): (viii) section 198 (discharging firearm or doing dangerous act with intent): (ix) section 199 (acid throwing): (x) section 200(1) (causing grievous bodily harm by poison): (xi) section 201 (infecting with disease): (xii) section 208 (abduction of woman or girl): (xiii) section 209 (kidnapping): (xiv) section 210 (abduction of child under 16): (xv) section 234 (robbery): (xvi) section 235 (aggravated robbery): (xvii) section 236 (assault with intent to rob): (d) an offence committed outside New Zealand that, if committed in New Zealand, would constitute an offence specified in paragraphs (a) to (c).

Essentially the fuss has arisen because the “clean-slate” provision which operates as an exception to this provision only applies to the miscellaneous offences listed in s29A(3)(c) and not to murder or sexual crimes. Section 29B allows qualifying people to apply for reinstatement of their licence if: - their last conviction for a serious offence was over 10 years ago, and - during the last 10 years they have had no convictions punishable by imprisonment. If they qualify, the Director then considers whether it is “would not be contrary to the public interest” to reinstate the person’s licence, after considering: - the sentence they received - the general safety criteria in section 30C (anything which relating to the interests of public safety or which ensures the public is protected from serious or organised criminal activity, including particularly the person's criminal history, transport-related offences (including infringement offences), any history of serious behavioural problems, any complaints made in relation to their transport service operation, any history of persistent failure to pay fines for transport-related offences). If they are declined reinstatement, they have the right to appeal to the High Court. (As an aside, the legislation also automatically exempts people convicted of sexual offences which are no longer offences under our law: see section 29A(3)(b). Despite Duynhoven's concerns, it wont affect people convicted of now repealed homosexual offences.) As I mentioned, it has been argued that the legislation is “retrospective”. Section 26(2) of the Bill of Rights says:

s26. Retroactive penalties and double jeopardy— (1) No one shall be liable to conviction of any offence on account of any act or omission which did not constitute an offence by such person under the law of New Zealand at the time it occurred. (2) No one who has been finally acquitted or convicted of, or pardoned for, an offence shall be tried or punished for it again.

A similar protection is found in sections 10 and 10A of the Crimes Act 1961. In my view it is clear that the new section does not breach section 26(2). The Court of Appeal in Daniels v Thompson [1998] 3 NZLR 22 has ruled section 26(2) "is referable only to penalties imposed as part of the criminal process" (page 34). In doing so, our Court of Appeal adopted the approach taken by the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Wigglesworth [1987] 2 SCR 541 in relation to the equivalent provision in their Charter. The courts have also made it clear that the double jeopardy protection does not apply to disciplinary or administrative processes following conviction, including the suspension of licences following convictions. See Harder v Director of Land Transport Safety (1998) 5 HRNZ 343 (taxi licence suspended after conviction of indecent assault) and Chapman v Institute of Chartered Accountants of New Zealand [2001] NZAR 456 (conviction for fraud no bar to professional disciplinary proceedings). Nor is it a retroactive offence or inappropriately retrospective provision. This part gets a bit tricky. The distinction between the terms “retroactive” and “retrospective” can be confusing. Often, the two are used interchangeably: see, for example, the speech of Lord Hope in Wilson v Secretary of State for Transport and Industry [2003] UKHL 40. However, others draw a distinction between the two. See, for example, Iacobucci J in Benner v Canada (Secretary of State) [1997] 1 SCR 358 at para 39 said:

The terms, “retroactivity” and “retrospectivity”, while frequently used in relation to statutory construction, can be confusing. E A Driedger, in “Statutes: Retroactive Retrospective Reflections” (1978) 56 Can Bar Rev 264 at pp 268-69, has offered these concise definitions which I find helpful: 'A retroactive statute is one that operates as of a time prior to its enactment. A retrospective statute is one that operates for the future only. It is prospective, but it imposes new results in respect of a past event. A retroactive statute operates backwards. A retrospective statute operates forwards, but it looks backwards in that it attaches new consequences for the future to an event that took place before the statute was enacted. A retroactive statute changes the law from what it was; a retrospective statute changes the law from what it otherwise would be with respect to a prior event.'

Lord Rodger in Wilson v Secretary of State for Transport and Industry [2003] UKHL 40 offered a similar but slightly different interpretation (para 188):

Retroactive provisions alter the existing rights and duties of those whom they affect. But not all provisions which alter existing rights and duties are retroactive. The statute book contains many statutes which are not retroactive but alter existing rights and duties – only prospectively, with effect from the date of commencement. Although such provisions are often referred to as “retrospective”, Viscount Simonds rightly cast doubt on that description in Attorney General v Vernazza [1960] AC 965 at 975.)

Further, the terms “apparent” or “secondary” retroactivity are also sometimes use, usually to describe cases where the law is changed on a prospective basis but when it may also undermine a person’s previous choices (Bowen v Georgetown University Hospital 488 US 204 (1988) at 219).

Consider the 4 different “retroactive” or “retrospective” laws, each with varying degrees of retrospectivity and unfairness:

1. Parliament passes a law raising the age of consent from 16-18 for the years 1980-1990. A taxi driver who had sex with a 17-year old in 1985 is prosecuted, convicted, and loses his licence.

2. Parliament passes the present law but deemed the licences quashed from the date of the original offence. A taxi driver whose licence is revoked is then prosecuted for driving without a licence in 1985 (even though at the time he had the licence).

3. The present law – which from today quashes licences previously granted.

4. Parliament passes the present law but only applies it to new licences. A prospective taxi driver who has for the last 12 months been training to be a taxi driver and recently purchased his vehicle on the basis of the previous law applies for a licence is turned down due a historic conviction.

The short point is the retrospectively is probably best seen as a continuum. In Secretary of State for Social Security v Tunnicliffe [1991] 2 All ER 712, 724, Staughton LJ described the common law principle in the following terms.

[P]arliament is presumed not to have intended to alter the law applicable to past events and transactions in a manner which is unfair to those concerned in them, unless a contrary intention appears. It is not simply a question of classifying an enactment as retrospective or not retrospective. Rather it may well be a matter of degree – the greater the unfairness, the more it is to be expected that Parliament will make it clear if that is intended.

See also Brosseau v Alberta (Securities Commission) [1989] 1 SCR 301, Maxwell v Murphy (1957) 96 CLR 261, and R v Poumako [2000] 2 NZLR 695 and, generally, the Legislative Advisory Guidelines, chapter 3, part 3. This brings the principle back to its theoretical underpinnings. The reason why retrospective laws are bad is that they undermine the ability of a person to plan their lives conscious of the (legal) consequences that flow from their choices – one of the key aspects of liberty, autonomy, or the "Rule of Law". Munzer says (“Retroactive Law” (1977) 6 Jnl Legal Studies 373 at 391):

[A] retroactive law will deprive a person of the opportunity to decide what to do with knowledge of the law that will be applied to him. This explains why retroactive laws are generally objectionable: We feel that a person is morally entitled to know in advance what legal character and consequences his acts have.

But, of course, this principle is aspirational and needs to be set against the countervailing public interest and the state’s need to govern. No-one can insist that laws remain static for ever. The public interest demands that the state be able to change laws, even though that may be at the expense of some people’s liberty. As the Tunnicliffe quote suggests, it really comes down to the degree of unfairness. The present situation is instructive. The objective of the legislation is public safety. The public safety objective demands that the new regime apply across the board – the objective will be undermined if it only applies to new applicants or there is another sort of transitional regime. Although a changed state of legal affairs applies with some retroactive effect or (arguably) retrospectively, its effect on someone’s ability to previous plan their affairs is not particularly grave: - It is unlikely to have had a huge effect on someone’s motivation for committing the original crime (after all, there is generally an awareness that some non-criminal restrictions may flow from convictions for offences). - It may have affected some people’s decision about whether to enter into the passenger service trade. The extent of unfairness they suffer depends on the extent of irreversible detriment they have suffered, eg lost opportunities for other careers, lost capital investment.

Some people’s ability to plan may have been undermined but not significantly. And the reason for doing so is for a pressing and substantial public interest objective.

That said, there’s still significant unfairness in the legislation even if it isn't double jeopardy or retrospective. That arises from the deeming of all offenders to be a risk to public safety without any consideration of their individual circumstances. This is more a violation of the administrative law or natural justice principle that someone should be able to have their circumstances considered according to their particular merits.

Presumptions and policies which apply to particular groups are usually permissible as long as an individual can argue why the presumption or policy should not apply to them. In the present case, a person convicted of murder or a sexual offence to argue for reinstatement. There may be sound reasons why they do not pose a rise to passengers but there is no ability for them to argue their case on this basis. They are deemed bad apples even if they are not truly bad. See generally Chris Hilson, "Judicial Review, Policies, and the Fettering of Discretion” [2002] Pub L 111 (although this principle usually gets most attention in relation to policies and guidelines developed by the administration, not rules in legislation itself). The problem can be fixed easily – but only through legislative amendment. The ability to apply to for reinstatement should be extended from the offences listed in s29A(3)(c) to all offences (ie, delete the reference to paragraph (c)). And appeal rights should be allowed as well – to ensure the evaluation of the people’s circumstances is properly undertaken.

Drinking Age

I think one of the more interesting issues in the upcoming year will be the (rekindled) debate about the drinking age. Intuitively, I’ve always supported the 18-year old limit. And, I’ve been keen to flesh this out with some more jurisprudential analysis. These issues give us a great opportunity to question, debate and understand the rationale and justification for regulation (particularly, criminalisation) by a coercive state. Over the dead-news cycle of the holiday period, the DomPost and Press both ran some stories which suggested new research showed that lowering the drinking age was harmful – in particular, it had lead to more alcohol-related accidents for 18- to 19-year olds:

DRINK YOUNG AND CRASH (DomPost, 28 December 2005) New Zealand's decision to lower the drinking age to 18 has resulted in an alarming increase in teenage car smashes, a landmark American study says. Alcohol was linked to "significantly more" vehicle crashes among 15 to 19-year-olds since the law was changed in 1999 to allow 18-year-olds to buy booze, the American Journal of Public Health says in an article to be published next month. ... [full article, pdf]

See also:
- “Crashes Blamed on Law Change” (The Press, 28 December 2005) [pdf]
- “Sobering news for Kiwi culture” (DomPost, 28 December 2005) [pdf]

As an aside, it wasn’t really “new” news; the NZ Herald reported the results about 3 months earlier – under a more alarming headline:

LOW DRINK AGE KILLS 12 TEENS A YEAR (NZ Herald, 8 September 2005) Lowering the drinking age to 18 has cost the lives of 12 teenagers each year in New Zealand and is putting more than 400 in hospital with traffic related injuries, new research suggests. ... [full article, pdf]

Now, when applying a harm-based justification for criminalisation, this research seems to be death knell for the lower drinking age. The study suggests decriminalisation produces measured, significant harm. Unsurprisingly, proponents of raising the drinking age latched onto the research and championed their Amendment Bill.

The results of the research seems so concerning I thought it necessary to read the journal article itself.

- See K Kypri et al, “Minimum Purchasing Age for Alcohol and Traffic Crash Injuries Among 15- to 19-Year-Olds in New Zealand” (2006) 96 American Journal of Public Health 126 [pdf]

And yes, the article did conclude as follows:

Conclusions: Significantly more alcohol-involved crashes occurred among 15- to 19-year-olds than would have occurred had the purchase age not been reduced to 18 years. The effect size for 18- to 19-year-olds is remarkable given the legal exceptions to the pre-1999 law and its poor enforcement.

Given the conclusion and the press reports above, it may surprise you that the study actually showed that, in absolute terms, the rate of alcohol related crash injuries for 18- to 19-year olds actually dropped following the lowering of the drinking age (by about 7%).

The rate of alcohol related crash injuries for 18- to 19-year olds per 10,000 population was 215.4 for 1995-1999 compared with 199.6 for 1999-2003.

Similarly, rate of hospitalisations for (all) traffic crashes for 18-year olds fell (282.6 vs 201.9 or a drop of around 30%).

The 2 sets of reports data are shown in the following tables: Of course, I’m no scientist or statistician (and I invite comment from such folk), but from what I can discern the explanation is that the study looked at relative, not absolute rates of injuries and hospitalisations. That is, when compared to a control group (20-24-year olds), the rates of injuries and hospitalisations for 18- to 19-year olds did not fall as much over the periods. The authors explain it as follows:

The rationale for including the 20- to 24-year age group was to control for the trend in crash outcomes that would have occurred irrespective of the change in minimum purchase age. In the period of the study, those aged 20 to 24 years were probably exposed to equivalent economic enforcement conditions, police enforcement levels, and other alcohol availability variables that may have influenced road traffic crashes in the younger age groups.

Now, that does seem to make sense, particularly when scientifically trying to identify the sole effect of lowering the drinking age. However, I do think the headlines and analysis seem to belie the data when placed in the context of the present debate.

First, the data is being reported as if injuries and hospitalisations have increased in an absolute sense (any reference to comparative results in the press articles was, at best, oblique).

Secondly, I’m not convinced the use of relative data is necessarily appropriate for this present debate. Law reform such as lowering the age does not happen in a vacuum. The lowering of the age was combined with other messages to ameliorate problems associated with drinking. Surely those other contextual factors and corresponding results are relevant to the present debate.

Thirdly, even when seen in relative terms, I’m also not convinced the relative rates (overall, for men and women combined, I think around 18%), speak decisively in favour of raising the age. Undoubtedly there are costs associated with lowering the age. It is not surprising that allowing 18- to 19-year olds has lead to increased alcohol related incidents anyway – consumption of alcohol by any age group surely leads to alcohol related incidents.

Isn’t the better question to ask whether that relative increase is an appropriate cost of the liberty interest at stake? And is the relative cost any higher than for any other age group? Would a similar study of 20- to 24-year compared to 25-29 year olds demonstrate a similar relative cost? What influence does our driving registration system have on the results? Does the fact that our 18- to 19-years olds are obtaining full licences have any effect? Would these results be different if, for example, we raised the (initial) driving age to say 18 years with full licences obtained at 20 years?

In short, I think the study raises more questions than it answers (or fails to answer some of the important jurisprudential/political questions). Having read the study I am unpersuaded. I still intuitively feel that 18 is the appropriate benchmark for the transformation of youths into adults. I think a much stronger case needs to be made to justify any age-based restrictions for people older than 18.