THE SATURDAY REFLECTION

When Procedure Becomes Punishment

A person can win their case on paper and still lose their life in practice. Not through a verdict. Not through a sentence. But through a sequence of procedural decisions that quietly reshape liberty without ever having to prove anything new.

This is not the dramatic injustice people imagine when they think about wrongful conviction. It is slower than that. Administrative. It arrives in risk language, deferrals, exclusions, and decisions framed as “management” rather than judgment.

This is not a denial of harm. Sexual violence is real. So are victims. So is the public interest in preventing further harm.But fairness is not a discretionary add-on that disappears under pressure. It is the mechanism that allows the system to distinguish truth from fear when the stakes are highest.

The quiet shift no one names

Public debate tends to focus on visible endpoints: trials, verdicts, sentences, prison numbers. What happens in between receives far less attention.

Yet it is in those in-between spaces that liberty is most easily altered without proof. Progression decisions. Parole assessments. Programme access. Risk classifications. Disclosure boundaries. Each framed as technical, neutral, or unavoidable.

The harder question sits underneath all of it:

On what basis is liberty taken or delayed, and how often do untested claims end up doing the work that proof is meant to do?

This question is rarely asked because it destabilises a comforting idea: that justice is only exercised in courtrooms. In reality, much of its power now operates through procedure.

Three ways procedure turns into punishment

When a system is under strain, precision is often the first casualty. Not because individuals suddenly become cruel, but because institutions begin to protect themselves.

In justice, self-protection often looks like choosing the decision that will be easiest to defend later, rather than the decision most firmly grounded in testable truth.

1) Narrative standing in for proof

Language hardens early. A charge becomes a story. The story becomes a consensus. The consensus becomes a substitute for proof.

Once this happens, the presumption of innocence quietly changes function. It becomes a courtesy rather than a safeguard, extended selectively depending on credibility, context, and public mood.

Saturday truth: a system can remain formally lawful while becoming practically indifferent to doubt.

2) Risk standing in for proof

Risk assessment has a role. But risk language is uniquely expandable, especially when institutions are operating under sustained pressure.

“Risk” can justify tighter conditions, delayed progression, heightened supervision, and lower recall thresholds, all without evidential discipline. The question shifts from “what can be proved?” to “what might happen if we’re wrong?”

  • If liberty is restricted wrongly, the individual pays.
  • If liberty is restricted “just in case”, the system protects itself.

Over time, challenge becomes reclassified as disruption. And disruption becomes evidence of risk.

3) Untested allegations shaping outcomes

This is the least visible mechanism, and often the most damaging.

Allegations may appear late, remain unproven, or never face sworn scrutiny. Yet they can still delay release, limit progression, or harden a person’s institutional profile.

For someone maintaining innocence, this is where the system becomes existential. If a claim has never been tested, or was incapable of proof, but still alters liberty, then evidence has been replaced by unresolved suspicion.

This converts liberty into an administrative product.
Not something taken by proof, but something withheld by process.

A specifically Scottish vulnerability

In Scotland, this problem is intensified by how information is categorised. Material described as “management information”, “risk intelligence”, or “context” can influence decisions while remaining functionally immune from challenge.

Because it is not treated as evidence, it often escapes disclosure standards. Because it is framed as precautionary, it escapes scrutiny. And because it operates downstream of trial, it rarely attracts public attention.

The result is a system where liberty can be shaped by material that no court has tested and no jury has seen.

Community justice and the risk of quiet control

There is a strong case for prevention, diversion, and well-resourced community disposals. Many are far better than short custody.

But there is a risk reformers often understate: net-widening.

  • more conditions attached to disposals
  • more technical breaches
  • more recalls for non-criminal non-compliance
  • more surveillance framed as support

The principle should not change with the setting. Any restriction on liberty still requires justification, proportionality, and a meaningful right to challenge the basis of the decision.

Minimum conditions for legitimacy

If Scotland wants reform that protects the public without abandoning fairness, procedural integrity cannot be optional.

Minimum conditions:

  • Challengeable allegations: material used to restrict liberty must be capable of meaningful contest.
  • Evidence vs information: decision-makers must state what is proved and what is merely asserted.
  • Reasoned decisions: reasons must be specific, written, and appealable.
  • Transparency: patterns cannot be addressed if they remain invisible.
  • Independent oversight: scrutiny must have teeth.

The ethical line that matters

Public protection requires accuracy. Fairness requires humility.

A system that cannot reliably test truth will always drift toward control rather than justice. It may do so politely. It may do so quietly. But it will do harm all the same.

Procedure should be a safeguard. When it becomes a substitute for proof, punishment begins long before guilt is established.


Accused.scot note: We defend process because it is the only tool that allows a justice system to correct itself. When challenge is treated as inconvenience, legitimacy does not fail loudly. It erodes.