RadioDoc Review

Volume 1 Issue 2 Article 4

November 2014

A Different Kind of Justice: a critical reflection

Cassandra Sharp Dr
University of Wollongong, Australia

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Recommended Citation
Sharp, Cassandra Dr, A Different Kind of Justice: a critical reflection, RadioDoc Review, 1(2),
2014. doi:10.14453/rdr.v1i2.4

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A Different Kind of Justice: a critical reflection

Abstract
Despite the accepted success of many restorative justice programs with youth and Indigenous offenders,
debate still proliferates about the utility of adult restorative justice programs within the criminal justice
system. Many important questions are raised about the efficacy and impact of such programs including:
‘What can restorative justice offer adult offenders and victims of crime? What are some of the challenges
of using restorative justice in this context? And what can we learn from emerging developments in
practice?’ (Bolitho et al, 2012). As will be discussed in this review, Russell Finch’s BBC Radio 4 production
of A Different Kind of Justice addresses each of these questions with vigour. Narrated by ‘dialogue expert’
Karl James, the documentary explores the impact of a restorative justice program from a deeply empirical
perspective. In interviewing, and then facilitating discussion between a burglar and his victim, James
provides an exquisitely emotional look into the cathartic and potentially transformative impact of one
particular restorative justice encounter in Blackburn, UK. A Different Kind of Justice expertly uses the
interlacing of articulated memories in three distinct movements to re-tell a crime story by weaving
together victim and offender perspectives, and in the process reveals not only the profound
transformative effects of restorative justice on those participants, but also the impact it can have on the
listener.

Keywords
restorative justice, reconciliation, forgiveness, justice

This article is available in RadioDoc Review: https://ro.uow.edu.au/rdr/vol1/iss2/4

 A Different Kind of Justice
Producer: Russell Finch, Somethin’ Else, for BBC Radio 4 (UK 2013). 28mins.

Reviewer: Cassandra Sharp

Stories of justice as presented in media reports play an important role in provoking

responses to issues such as ethics, crime, punishment and social responsibility. With
the punishment of criminal activity frequently attracting public attention and media
reporting on sentencing contributing to an increasingly punitive public (Gelb 2008), it
is rare to be invited to think differently about how ‘justice’ might be achieved
(whether for the victim or the offender). And yet this is exactly what A Different Kind
of Justice does. To listen to this documentary produced by Russell Finch for BBC
Radio 4 is to take part in a review of one’s own perspective on what should be the
purpose of ‘justice’. It is a challenge to extend what might ordinarily be our primary
natural desire for offenders to be punished, into a connected desire for the
restoration of relationships and healed lives.

In many criminal justice systems, the question of guilt is paramount, together with
the infliction of punishment upon the person found guilty of having transgressed the
law. There is a vast literature on the moral and political philosophy of punishment,
with the main justifications for punishment given as retribution, rehabilitation,
deterrence and reparation. The High Court of Australia has stated that ‘the purposes
of criminal punishment are various… (they) overlap and none of them can be
considered in isolation’ (Veen (No 2) 1988). Yet, to state it in fairly simplistic terms,
the most prominent and publicly visible justification for criminal punishment in
contemporary theory and practice has for many decades been retribution, with
restoration seen as a secondary measure alternative to criminal justice practices. In
more recent times, however, in countries like Australia, the UK and New Zealand,
restorative justice programs and conferences have been increasingly used to
facilitate dialogue and participation between offenders and victims.

Despite the accepted success of many restorative justice programs with youth and
Indigenous offenders, debate still proliferates about the impact and efficacy of adult
restorative justice programs within the larger criminal justice system (Bolitho et al,
2012). Russell Finch’s production of A Different Kind of Justice, narrated by ‘dialogue
expert’ Karl James, explores the impact of a restorative justice program from a
deeply empirical perspective. In interviewing, and then facilitating discussion
between a burglar and his victim, James provides an exquisitely emotional look into
the cathartic and potentially transformative impact of one particular restorative
justice encounter in Blackburn, UK. A Different Kind of Justice uses three distinct
movements to re-tell a crime story by weaving together victim and offender
perspectives, and in the process reveals not only the profound transformative

1
effects of restorative justice on those participants, but also the impact it can have on
the listener.

With recent studies suggesting that meetings between victims of crime and their
perpetrators can both reduce reoffending rates and provide pyschological healing
for victims (Bolitho et al, 2012), there has been a significant increase of these
‘restorative justice’ meetings in the UK. In this program, the story is narratively
crafted using the interweaving of articulated memories – both Margaret (the victim)
and Ian (the offender) describe their memories of the crime and their subsequent
‘restorative interaction’. It is in hearing these descriptions of juxtaposed and
personalised memories that the listener is keenly aware of the raw emotion
constituting this crime narrative. But what is the particular story that has seemingly
entwined their lives? As described in the Somethin’ Else Program Information, the
essence of their story is this:

In November 2008, Margaret interrupted a burglary in her own home. As she came
through the backdoor, the burglar left through the front. He had taken a laptop full
of photos commemorating her daughter Jessica's 18th birthday. Eight months later
her daughter was killed in a tragic car accident. The theft of the laptop meant her
parents were deprived of any recent family photos of their daughter. …. inspired by
the memory of her daughter, Margaret agreed to meet the offender in a restorative
justice conference in Preston Prison. Ian was that burglar.

However, this is more than just a narrative of burglar meets victim. It becomes a
gripping, metaphorical looking-glass through which we can explore the practical
realities of restorative justice, and the listener quickly realises that this is a story of
restoration, forgiveness, guilt, and burden. It is indeed a story of a different kind of
justice.

Weaving justice together through story and conversation

We live in a world where we increasingly consume stories as one stimulant to the

transformation and perpetuation of meaning and desire in relation to issues of law
and justice. Storytelling is ‘essential to the human experience’ (Rappaport, 2008)
because it enables individual reflection as a way of making sense of the world. And
so stories, both fictive and real, can be utilised to view law from various
perspectives. They can seek to ‘include what has often been omitted, such as the
feelings, desires, conflicting impulses and wishes that circulate within the law’
(Sherwin, 1996), and it has been my consistent argument that individuals use stories
to frame and contextualise normative expectations of the legal system (Sharp 2014,
2011). The story told in this documentary is packed with typical storytelling elements
and techniques familiar to our contemporary crime genre sensibilities. It has the
build-up of the narrative (the reconstruction of the crime from the twin
perspectives), the emotive revelation that underscores the need for restoration (the
death of Jessica), and the interspersion of the dramatic and unprecedented
recording of the first ‘restorative meeting’ to historicise and authenticate the
participant’s descriptions of what occurred between them. It is the conspiracy of
these elements that shines the spotlight on the particular cultural understanding of

2
law and justice that the listener might have previously (and hitherto unconsciously)
socially constructed; this challenges us to rethink what we understand and expect of
our ‘justice’ system.

This challenge indeed begins (if not from the dare of the title itself – to see a
‘different’ kind of justice) from the first moment of the documentary when we hear
the narrator speak about the power of conversation. By way of introduction to what
is about to unfold in this piece, the narrator opines that when the stakes are high,
the act of conversing with someone can create a turning point in people's lives, and
particularly within the context of restorative justice, he promises that we will be
given insight into what it takes for some to have these conversations. Of course,
almost immediately I was intrigued by this. I wholeheartedly believe that it is indeed
through conversation that we truly begin to understand ourselves and others, and so
the sombre intervening music that cut between the narrator’s introduction and the
soundtrack to his physical meeting in real time with Margaret produced for me a
moment of anticipation. I wondered: what impact would this conversation between
a burglar and his victim have? And more introspectively, I wondered what impact
this retelling of a criminal history might have on me, and my expectations of ‘justice’.

After some awkward introductory comments, the first movement of the

documentary begins as Margaret starts to recite the story of coming home one day
to find her house mid-burglary. But almost as quickly as she has begun, the story is
interrupted by another awkward and ‘real time’ introduction – the narrator
introduces himself to burglar ‘Ian’, who henceforth tells the same story from his
perspective. With minimal intervention from the narrator/interviewer, the structure
of this he said/she said dual narrative is skilfully dramatic and suspenseful. The
complete picture of this criminal story is then assembled from the splicing together
of their individual details: each providing little snapshots that when combined,
produce the vivid image of a burglary with far-reaching and unanticipated
consequences.

It is only after the crime story has been re-told by the two parties, that Margaret
reveals the true tragedy behind the theft of the laptop (which contained precious
family photos) – the subsequent death of her daughter at the age of 21. As the
narrator interjects empathetically at one point, this would be ‘heartbreaking for any
parent’. For myself, it was at this moment that I felt myself catch a breath. In the
tantalising silences betwixt Margaret’s various descriptions of her grief, I understood
the complexity of any restorative justice meeting that might occur between these
two people. I understood that whether justified or not, the burglary would forever
be connected with Jessica’s death. The loss of the photos, a visual reminder of
special memories, would make her tragic death all that much harder to bear. It was
at this moment that I knew that any description of the restorative interaction
between Ian and Margaret, would necessarily involve the expression of complex and
intertwined emotions such as trauma, guilt, empathy, fear, forgiveness, shame and
anger. It was clear that the story would now move beyond the mere description of a
crime, to the sharing of emotional reactions to the restorative justice process – a
process which demands an attempt at reconciliation and restoration.

3
This is the appeal of a restorative justice program – that it brings ‘together the
individuals who have been affected by an offense and [has] them agree on how to
repair the harm caused by [that] crime’ (Braithwaite, 1999). The emphasis of the
process is on the achievement of reconciliation between the offender and the victim,
and quite obviously requires atonement: the repentance of the offender coupled
with the willingness to forgive on the part of the victim. As a listener, I was curious to
see if this atonement between Margaret and Ian would be possible. Indeed, despite
the fact that restorative justice has enormous potential to provide a ‘more inclusive
and holistic approach’ to crime issues, questions are ‘often raised about the extent
to which these ideals are achievable in practice, and the conditions under which it
might or might not be appropriate’ (Bolitho et al, 2012). These important questions
have included: ‘What can restorative justice offer adult offenders and victims of
crime? What are some of the challenges of using restorative justice in this context?
And what can we learn from emerging developments in practice?’ (Bolitho et al,
2012). As will be briefly demonstrated below, A Different Kind of Justice addresses
each of these questions with empirical vigour.

What can restorative justice offer adult offenders and victims of crime?

Shortly after Jessica died, Margaret agreed to participate in a restorative justice

meeting. The second movement of the documentary details this encounter, again
from the dual perspective of victim and offender. For the second time, Margaret and
Ian, separately and yet together, tell the story of their restorative justice meeting
within the prison walls. Interspersed among their descriptive memories is the real-
time recording of their conversation. This apparently unprecedented access to the
recording of their interaction authenticates the story we are hearing being
remembered. The audio quality of this recording is not great – we can hear Margaret
clearly asking questions of Ian, and yet we are straining to hear Ian’s almost
inaudible, but repeated response of ‘sorry’. The silence here, as throughout the
documentary, is deployed strategically for dramatic effect to give us the emotional
space we need to adequately reflect on the process taking place. And it works. The
silence is where the emotion sits, and it was listening to this reconstruction of the
meeting with real-time audio and narrated context from both Margaret and Ian that
unexpectedly brought me to tears. It was riveting, and it effectively painted the
picture of their encounter in my mind. I could clearly imagine the picture of their
meeting, of Ian’s physical response to the news of Jessica’s death, and to their
desperate grasping of each other’s hands as Margaret demanded he turn his life
around.

Often, one of the ‘major concerns about restorative justice is that, for most victims,
it will not be of any benefit or, worse, that it will cause victims greater harm. A
related concern is that victims will be mere “props » on a stage, the function of
which is to help rehabilitate offenders, or that they will end up playing “second
fiddle » to the offender” (Bolitho el al, 2012). Margaret shows categorically in this
documentary that not only was the meeting cathartic for her (as she experienced a
release of ‘aggravation and tension’), but also through her forgiveness she played a

4
significant role in mobilising Ian towards transformation and rehabilitation. Her
insistence that Ian must change in order to make her feel that something good had
come from their meeting, demonstrates that Margaret was no ‘second fiddle’ in this
encounter. In fact, she was the driving force to transformative action in Ian’s life, and
as they describe his clean record for two years since the meeting, one cannot help
but assume that in this instance, restorative justice might have achieved reparation,
rehabilitation, community reintegration, and even healing.

What then, are some of the challenges of using restorative justice in

this context?

A further argument often given against restorative justice is that ‘it is unrealistic to
expect to be able to restore both victims and offenders’ and this is because ‘the
competing interests of participants within the restorative process means that what
works for offenders may not work for victims’ and vice versa (Bolitho et al, 2012).
The third and final movement of A Different Kind of Justice brings into sharp relief
the challenges inherent in restorative justice encounters as we consider whether it
indeed has been a success for both participants. In the form of a segue to the final
section, the narrator provides his own reflection on the impact on Ian of his meeting
with Margaret. He rightly points out that while Margaret does not blame Ian for
Jessica’s death, her emotional connection of Ian’s demonstrated rehabilitation with
her loss, places a potentially unfair burden on Ian to carry that loss. So, the last
movement provides us with the opportunity to listen to a subequent meeting
between Ian and Margaret in real-time. No longer do we hear their story spliced
together – instead we are privy to their conversation as they are reunited two years
on from their initial encounter. Empathy is engendered here with nuanced
complexity. Embodied in this framing of a restorative justice story, is what I expected
– an emotional association with Margaret, as the victim. But I must admit, I did not
expect to similarly empathise with the offender, and yet, particularly in this last
movement, that’s exactly what occurred. I was moved to sympathy for Ian as he
listened to Margaret express her daily concern over his rehabilitative process, and as
he reveals that she is a constant reminder to him of his own pre-restorative state.

Rossner argues that ‘strong emotions within a restorative justice conference… may
well provide the “hook » that some offenders need to experience the cognitive
change and process of re-identification as a non-criminal that brings about
desistance’ (Bolitho et al, 2012). It seems in this case as though it indeed was the
strong emotional response of Margaret that became the impetus to drive Ian into
transformative action. But one must ask, how long will that last? What happens if Ian
was to backslide or crumble? Would this still be seen as a success? The narrator
concludes by suggesting that despite the possibility of an almost unbearable burden
being placed on Ian, restorative justice should be seen as a continuing conversation
rather than an end in itself. That is, like any relationship which requires attention,
time and hard work to develop and maintain, restorative justice must be seen as an
ongoing, iterative conversation that has transformative potential. Again this use of
conversation makes sense to me, and so it brings me to the final question
concerning the utility of restorative justice practice.

5
What can we learn from this instance of restorative justice in practice?

The vision of restorative justice is to peacefully address the conflict of crime through
a focus on acknowledgement, accountability, relationships, harm and the rights and
obligations of citizens in civil society (Bolitho et al, 2012).

A Different Kind of Justice documents through storied conversation, one particular

instance where the elements of restorative justice described by Bolitho et al, are
successfully implemented. Margaret and Ian were able to empathise with each
other, listen to each other, and provide accountability, reconciliation and
acknowledgment of life experience within their relationship. This has enormous
potential for sensitively but significantly impacting listeners. As we hear the real
emotion of victim and offender expressing their crime story, we cannot escape
questioning our views and perceptions about criminal justice resolutions and
practices. As I sat in the car, at the conclusion of my first hearing of the
documentary, I felt compelled to quietly reflect on the often distorted image of
crime stories we are so accustomed to accepting in the media, and I recognised the
impact this has had on my own perceptions of criminal offenders. You can’t help but
be confronted in A Different Kind of Justice by the context and background to both
Margaret and Ian’s story. In fact, as stated earlier, I was very surprised at not only
the emotional response I had to Ian and his circumstances, but also the resultant
reflection about the purpose of criminal justice. In response to this documentary,
the listener is provoked to consider: what is the ‘justice’ that has occurred here? It is
certainly not retribution – the seeking of ‘an eye for eye’ that as a society, we seem
to so naturally desire. My own conclusion was that perhaps the ‘justice’ we
encounter instead is the justice of healing and transformation – the kind of justice
where a victim is able to confront their offender and positively affect both their lives
in the process.

That is ultimately the public impact of this documentary (which brought tears to my
eyes more than once) – it challenges us to be forgiving, to not take things at face
value, and to use conversation as a method of healing. Knowing that stories told
through conversation (which take on a social or collective dimension) are
‘fundamental to the way we learn and to the way we communicate’ (Steslow and
Gardner, 2011), I have no doubt that A Different Kind of Justice has the potential (if
we allow it) to interrogate our thoughts, change our desires concerning justice, and
practice restoration. We just need to give ourselves the time to be still, and listen.

AUDIO of A Different Kind of Justice is HERE. (Scroll to end of article).

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References

Bolitho, Jane, Jasmin Bruce and Gail Mason, Restorative Justice: Adults and Emerging
Practice, (Sydney: Institute of Criminology Series 2012).

Braithwaite, John, ‘A Future where Punishment is Marginalised: Realistic or Utopian?

46 UCLA L Rev 1727, 1743 (1999).

Gelb, Karen, (Sentencing Advisory Council Victoria), More Myths and Misconceptions
(September 2008), 4.

Rappaport, Bret, “Tapping the Human Adaptive Origins of Storytelling by Requiring

Legal Writing Students to Read a Novel in Order to Appreciate How Character,
Setting, Plot, Theme, and Tone (CSPTT) are as Important as IRAC” (2008) 25 T M
Cooley L Rev 267 at 268.

Sharp, Cassandra, ‘Justice with a Vengeance – Retributive Desire in Popular

Imagination’ in Asimow, Michael (ed) Law and Popular Culture: International
Perspectives (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014).

Sharp, Cassandra, ““Represent a Murderer…I’d Never do That!” How Students use

Stories to Link Ethical Development and Identity Construction,” in eds Michael
Robertson et al, The Ethics Project in Legal Education, (London: Routledge, 2011) at
33-51.

Sherwin, Richard, 'Symposium: Introduction: Picturing Justice: Images of Law and

Lawyers in the Visual Media' (1996) 30 (Summer) University of San Francisco Law
Review 891.

Somethin’ Else Program Information (2013), retrieved 24 October 2014 from

http://adifferentkindofjustice.somethinelse.com/

Steslow, Donna M and Gardner, Carolyn “More than One Way to Tell a Story:
Integrating Storytelling into Your Law Course” (2011) 28(2) J Leg Stud Ed 249 at 252.

Veen (No 2) (1988) 164 CLR 465 at 476.

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Dr Cassandra Sharp is Senior Lecturer, School of Law, at the University of
Wollongong, Australia. Cassandra’s research is concerned with the expression of law
in various aspects of popular culture. In particular, Cassandra has empirically
explored the transformative process of first year law; the use of popular stories by
students in constructing identity; and the way in which understandings of ethics are
challenged or maintained through popular stories of law. Cassandra has developed
an international reputation for interdisciplinary empirical research into law and
culture (see for eg: ‘Let’s See How Far We’ve Come: The Role of Empirical
Methodology in Exploring Television Audiences’ in Silbey J and Robson P (eds) Law
and Justice on the Small Screen (Hart, 2012)). Cassandra's interdisciplinary research
draws on cultural studies, literary theory, criminology, and legal theory to
interrogate public interaction with legal consciousness (see for eg: ‘Justice with a
Vengeance – Retributive Desire in Popular Imagination’ in M. Asimow (ed) Law and
Popular Culture: International Perspectives (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014).
Her ongoing projects include exploring public ideas of justice; media reporting of
sentencing; and the notion of revenge in television dramas. http://bit.ly/1wKl0ba