Whilst sitting in the punishment block in Dartmoor, trying to write my letter, I had to give up. The cell was so damp that the ink of my biro was running on the paper.
The Governor makes his daily visit - "Any problems?" What, apart from the water running down the walls...? "Don't worry", he says, "it gets better in the summer." It was October.
To feel 'sorry' for killing someone seems a little trite. It feels improper to use a word that slips out in response to dropping a biscuit on a clean floor in the context of such an immense act as killing another human being.
I have two recurring nightmares, both of which become prominent around the anniversary of my crime. The first is a terror that my victim will appear out of the darkness, a spectral avenger, to kill me. The second is to be faced with my victim’s family.
What could I say? What possible part of my life, my body or my soul could I offer up in explanation? All murder is essentially irrational and while I could offer an explanation it would seem utterly drained of real meaning.
Each lifer carries their burden differently. Small minorities live in denial or slippery self-justification. The majority carry it as a secret stain on their soul; murder is a very private, as well as very public, tragedy. Some sink into self-loathing and kill themselves.
The burden develops over time. For me, as I grew into adulthood my appreciation of life increased and with it the enormity of what I had done. I have felt slightly apart from the community since that moment. Simon Weisenthal asserted that only the victim can forgive, and so murder is a crime that cannot be expunged. It is a debt that can never be repaid, a harm that can never be undone.
Time doesn't heal the wound, no more than it does for victims. But we both share the superficial healing, the patina of normality and daily life that slowly intrudes into the pain for longer and longer moments. But a slight pause in life can be sufficient to return the raw pain to the surface.
The past cannot be undone. That suffering cannot be erased and it would be futile to attempt it. What, then, is there that can be done? For me, I determined to 'fix' the psychological flaws that
led me to see killing as a solution to a fit of panic and fear. And it is no coincidence that my studies centre on conflict and attempting to reduce violence. All that remains possible is to try to live life in such a way as to leave this earth the better for your having existed.
Sorry?
Today, I received a written response from the Governing Governor to my complaint about my mail and blog being interfered with,
" As you may recall last Weds I told you that I had spoken to the policy lead who had given [the Head of Operations here] the original policy line on your use of a blog which has resulted in [the Head of Performance, a Governor] stopping this letter after discussing it with me. On the advice we had at the time from the policy lead, that was the appropriate action. I have since spoken at length with the policy leads on both PSO 4411 and 4470. I (illegible) advised that their original advice is withdrawn and you may send material out for your Blog..."
Two things are absent from this statement. Firstly, at no point has the idiot at HQ who began this saga admitted they were wrong. This continues the long tradition in the Prison Service that holds that errors on the part of staff are just not possible.
Secondly, there is no hint of the behind-the-scenes effects of the legal forces marshalled by John Hirst on my behalf. To all those who operated in the shadows, many thanks.
Whilst my keepers were attempting to stop the Blog, I was beset by two types of advice. Both well intentioned, both contradictory. There were those who felt that my possibly provoking the Ministry was both futile and suicidal (in terms of progressing to release). Conversely, there were those who advised that I do what I do best, which is take an immovable stand, and have faith that law, reason and plain common-sense would prevail. My instincts were always with the latter group and I am pleased that I was daft enough to stick my head up.
If only more people from marginalised and politically dispossessed groups looked at their situation and realised that they have little to lose. Speaking up is always right and should be encouraged at every turn.
To those who supported me, thank you. Now I have the difficult job of attempting to populate a blog with interesting, entertaining, informative and thought-provoking material. And I thought the Ministry of Justice were hard to please...
Call me naive, but I think it is un-contentious to suggest that the popular media helps to shape social attitudes and beliefs. The broadcast and print media may be the sole source of information for many people.
Is there, then, a moral responsibility for journalists to offer well researched, truthful information? This isn't to deny the opportunity of political or personal bias; only that mixed in with the spin there should be nuggets of actual fact.
The Daily Mail in particular is notorious for abandoning any connection with reality, allowing their writers to ascend in flights of bilious rhetoric that barely contain the merest whiff of an actual fact. Rather than inform the public debate, they deform and debase it. Peter Hitchens comes to mind as a chief culprit of this 'journalism', a perpetual wordsmith who soothes the middle classes with a patina of authority on things penal. If people are willing to pay them, and if others are willing to buy their views, why should I care? I care, as should you, because so many people assume that such luminaries have a genuine knowledge of what they speak, and this helps to broadly shape opinions. That is very dangerous, leading to an inflamed populace demanding policy changes based upon lies and distortions.
The best illustration of media stupidity flowed from a certain tabloid’s campaign to 'out' sex offenders, leading to marches and attacks on innocent people. To pretend that newspaper managers are so stupid as to not foresee this is an insult. No social good was achieved, only social harm.
To return to the beginning, then: Should journalists have a moral responsibility for the social effects of what they write?
