Crime in England and Wales fell by 10 per cent last year, according to official statistics. Ministers queued up to speak on TV and radio, expressing quiet satisfaction that life had improved on their watch.
However, the problem is that the figures can no longer be believed. This month, the UK Statistical Authority with- drew a “gold standard” kitemark from all crime data recorded by the police because it believes there is “accumulating evidence” that the numbers are being fiddled.
Some of the credit for growing doubts among statisticians is due to Const James Patrick, who has argued for years that figures in London have been subjected to Orwellian manipulation.
First some terminology must be understood. Crime figures can be lowered by officers seeking to put a better gloss on their boroughs by a number of tricks – “cuffing”, “nodding”, “skewing” and “stitching”.
Cuffing, where figures “disappear up the sleeve”, happens when people are not believed when they report a crime or the property they claim has been stolen is registered as being simply lost.
Sometimes, a series of crimes, let’s say the street vandalism of a number of cars, are recorded as one incident, rather than individually, while senior officers have been known to review crime reports and declare, literally, “that nothing happened here”.
Nodding requires the co-op- eration of the criminal, where the latter confesses to a series of offences on a station’s books in return for some leeway at their trial or sometimes perks – including sex, drink, food – on days out from prison.
Skewing is a little more complex, requiring the movement of police to tackle particular types of crime, which can happen when officers are moved out to the suburbs from city centres to deal with easier-to-detect burglaries.
Finally, there is stitching. Once upon a time, it simply meant false confessions, although that happens less frequently today. Instead, people get cautions for offences where there is no evidence that would stand up in court.
Last November, Constable Patrick appeared before the House of Commons public administration select committee, where he argued that crime figures in London were deliberately manipulated.
The charge is denied.
Chief Inspector of Constabulary Tom Winsor said he expec- ted to find a few examples of dishonesty, but he discounted institutional corruption.
However, everything about Patrick’s charge, if he is right, depends on institutionally sanctioned practices.
Once he brought two sets of statistical tables to the attention of his senior commanders because they did not make sense. Both had measured the same data, but one took place after an audit had occurred.
“As many as 300 burglaries would disappear within a couple of weeks,” he told MPs.
“Things were clearly being reported as burglaries. You would then rerun the same report. There had been a human intervention, ie, a management intervention, and those burglaries had effectively disappeared in a puff of smoke.”
Later, Patrick examined sexual offences claims, including rape, by women. Some were subsequently logged as “no crimes” – ie, nothing had happened. On closer examination, that was shown to be wrong in eight out of 10 cases.
This, he alleges, is policy and is not accidental. Research by University College London and King’s College has shown that police target women who were drunk, on drugs, have mental health problems or are underage, “to try to make them back out of the allegation”.
Patrick told senior officers, up to assistant commissioners in Scotland Yard, but nothing happened. He could not go to the Independent Police Complaints Commission, even though it is supposed to regulate whistleblowing.
“Being a whistleblower in the police is just unpleasant. To be honest, I have carried it around for three years with me now and it is not a topic that I particularly want to reveal to the entire world.”
Patrick will appear shortly before the Directorate of Professional Standards of the Metropolitan Police Service for a seven-day hearing into gross misconduct that could end his career.
However, the hearing was in train even before he appeared before MPs. It dates back to the 2012 publication of his book, The Rest is Silence , where he gathered publicly available information about the impact of police reforms, along with private security firm G4S's Olympics fiasco in 2012.
Available on Amazon, the book sold some copies, but not many. Its arguments were picked up in some quarters, but not much more. By seeking to discipline him, his commanders may have made a thorn a dangerous enemy.
