Juvenile justice in Queensland and Canada : new legislation reflecting new directions

Due to their similar colonial histories and common law heritage, Australia and Canada provide an ideal comparative context for examining legislation reflecting new directions in the field of juvenile justice. Toward this end, this article compares the revised juvenile justice legislation which came into force in Queensland and Canada in 2003 (Canada, Youth Criminal Justice Act, enacted on 19 February 2002 and proclaimed in force 1 April 2003; Queensland, Juvenile Justice Act, amended 2003). There are a series of questions that could be addressed including: How similar and how sweeping have been the legislative changes introduced in each jurisdiction?; What are likely to be some of the effects of the implementation of these new legislative regimes?; and, how well does the legislation enacted in either jurisdiction address the fundamental difficulties experienced by children who have been caught up in juvenile justice systems? This article addresses mainly the first of these questions, offering a systematic comparison of recent Queensland and Canadian legislative changes. Although, due to the recentness of these changes, there is no data available to assess long-term effects, anecdotal evidence and preliminary research findings from our comparative study are offered to provide a start at answering the second question. We also offer critical yet sympathetic comments on the ability of legislation to address the fundamental difficulties experienced by children caught up in juvenile justice systems. Specifically, we conclude that while more than simple legislative responses are required to address the difficulties faced by youth offenders, and especially overrepresented Indigenous young offenders, the amended Queensland and new Canadian legislation appear to provide some needed reforms that can be used to help address some of these fundamental difficulties.

Researching crime and violence: Untold stories from the field

Undertaking empirical research on crime and violence can be a tricky enterprise fraught with ethical, methodological, intellectual and legal implications. This chapter takes readers on a reflective journey through the qualitative methodologies I used to research sex work in Kings Cross, miscarriages of justice, female delinquency, sexual violence, and violence in rural and regional settings over a period of nearly 30 years. Reflecting on these experiences, the chapter explores and analyses the reality of doing qualitative field research, the role of the researcher, the politics of subjectivity, the exercise of power, and the ‘muddiness’ of the research process, which is often overlooked in sanitised accounts of the research process (Byrne-Armstrong, Higgs and Horsfall, 2001; Davies, 2000).

Finding a way through the ethical and legal maze : withdrawing medical treatment and euthanasia

This article examines Finnis' and Keown's claim that the intention/foresight distinction should be used as the basis for the lawfulness of withholding and withdrawing medical treatment, rather than the act/omission distinction which is currently used. I argue that whilst the intention/foresight distinction is sound and can apply to palliative pain relief hastening death, it cannot be applied to withholding and withdrawing medical treatment. Instead, the act/omission distinction remains the better basis for the lawfulness of withholding and withdrawal, and law reform is consequently unnecessary.

Punitiveness and the criminalisation of the other : State wards, unlawful non-citizens and Indigenous youth

This paper explores the genealogies of bio-power that cut across punitive state interventions aimed at regulating or normalising several distinctive ‘problem’ or ‘suspect’ deviant populations, such as state wards, non-lawful citizens and Indigenous youth. It begins by making some general comments about the theoretical approach to bio-power taken in this paper. It then outlines the distinctive features of bio-power in Australia and how these intersected with the emergence of penal welfarism to govern the unruly, unchaste, unlawful, and the primitive. The paper draws on three examples to illustrate the argument – the gargantuan criminalisation rates of Aboriginal youth, the history of incarcerating state wards in state institutions, and the mandatory detention of unlawful non-citizens and their children. The construction of Indigenous people as a dangerous presence, alongside the construction of the unruly neglected children of the colony — the larrikin descendants of convicts as necessitating special regimes of internal controls and institutions, found a counterpart in the racial and other exclusionary criteria operating through immigration controls for much of the twentieth century. In each case the problem child or population was expelled from the social body through forms of bio-power, rationalised as strengthening, protecting or purifying the Australian population.

Drawing the line : the legal status and treatment of the 17-year-old accused in Queensland

Seventeen year olds who come into contact with the police in Queensland are classified as adults and are not afforded the protections available under the Youth Justice Act 1992 (Qld) (YJA). As with any other adult, their offences are dealt with under a raft of legislative provisions including the Criminal Code 1889 (Qld) (the Code), the Police Powers and Responsibilities Act 2000 (Qld) (PPRA) and the Penalties and Sentences Act 1992 (Qld) (PSA). This article argues that this situation is unfair and contravenes international human rights agreements which Australia has ratified, in particular the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (CROC). Article 1 of that Convention defines a child as a person under the age of 18. The youth offences legislation in Queensland only applies to those who have not yet turned 17. This article examines the effects of this anomaly in Queensland, focusing in particular on the pre-adjudication treatment of ‘17 year old adults’.

Problem-solving courts, therapeutic jurisprudence and the constitution : if two is company, is three a crowd?

Court costs, resource-intensive trials, booming prison populations and the obduracy of recidivism rates all present as ugly excesses of the criminal law adversarial paradigm. To combat these excesses, problem-solving courts have evolved with an edict to address the underlying issues that have caused an individual to commit a crime. When a judge seeks to help a problem-solving court participant deal with issues like addiction, mental health or poverty, they are performing a very different role to that of a judicial officer in the traditional court hierarchy. They are no longer the removed, independent arbiter — a problem-solving court judge steps into the ‘arena’ with the participant and makes active use of their judicial authority to assist in rehabilitation and positive behavioural change. Problem-solving court judges employing the principles of therapeutic jurisprudence appreciate that their interaction with participants can have therapeutic and anti-therapeutic consequences. This article will consider how the deployment of therapeutic measures (albeit with good intention) can lead to the behavioural manifestation of partiality and bias on the part of problem-solving court judges. Chapter III of the Commonwealth Constitution will then be analysed to highlight why the operation and functioning of problem solving courts may be deemed unconstitutional. Part IV of this article will explain how a problem-solving court judge who is not acting impartially or independently will potentially contravene the requirements of the Constitution. It will finally be suggested that judges who possess a high level of emotional intelligence will be the most successful in administering an independent and impartial problem solving court.

Criminology, Crime and Politics Before and After 9/11

Criminologists have mostly followed the criminal law in adopting an apolitical concept of crime. They paid limited attention to both political crime and the political power to criminalise. The article traces efforts to redress this since the 1960s. It nevertheless remained a minority concern, mostly of critical criminology. Yet crime has been politicised in various ways by other developments, also examined in the article. The events of 9/11 have crowned the emergence of crime as a strategic security issue posing a challenge to criminology to engage with politically inspired crime and its control.

From Absence to Presence, from Silence to Voice: Victims in Transitional Justice Since the Nuremberg Trials

As much as victims have been absent in traditional and national criminal justice for a long time, they were invisible in transitional and international criminal justice after World War II. The Nuremberg Trials were dominated by the perpetrators, and documents were mainly used instead of victim testimony. Contemporaries shared the perspective that transitional justice, both international and national procedures should channel revenge by the victims and their families into the more peaceful venues of courts and legal procedures. Since then, victims have gained an ever more important role in transitional, post-conflict and international criminal justice. Non-judicial tribunals, Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, and international criminal courts and tribunals are relying on the testimony of victims and thus provide a prominent role for victims who often take centre stage in such procedures and trials. International criminal law and the human rights regime have provided victims with several routes to make themselves heard and fight against impunity. This paper tracks the road from absence to presence, and from invisibility to the visibility of victims during the second half of the last and the beginning of the present century. It shows in which ways their presence has shaped and changed transitional and international justice, and in particular how their absence or presence is linked to amnesties.

How should Australia regulate voluntary euthanasia and assisted suicide?

The purpose of this paper is to provide a basis from which to start an informed and rational dialogue in Australia about voluntary euthanasia (VE) and assisted suicide (AS). It does this by seeking to chart the broad landscape of issues that can be raised as relevant to how this conduct should be regulated by the law. It is not our purpose to persuade. Rather, we have attempted to address the issues as neutrally as possible and to canvass both sides of the argument in an even-handed manner. We hope that this exercise places the reader in a position to consider the question posed by this paper: How should Australia regulate voluntary euthanasia and assisted suicide? In line with the approach taken in the paper, this question does not take sides in the debate. It simply asks how VE and AS should be regulated, acknowledging that both prohibition and legalisation of such conduct involve regulation. We begin by considering the wider legal framework that governs end of life decision-making. Decisions to withhold or withdraw life-sustaining treatment that result in a person’s death can be lawful. This could be because, for example, a competent adult refuses such treatment. Alternatively, stopping or not providing treatment can be lawful when it is no longer in a person’s best interests to receive it. The law also recognises that appropriate palliative care should not attract criminal responsibility. By contrast, VE and AS are unlawful in Australia and could lead to prosecution for crimes such as murder, manslaughter or aiding and abetting suicide. But this is not to say that such conduct does not occur in practice. Indeed, there is a body of evidence that VE and AS occur in Australia, despite them being unlawful. There have been repeated efforts to change the law in this country, mainly by the minor political parties. However, apart from a brief period when VE and AS was lawful in the Northern Territory, these attempts to reform the law have been unsuccessful. The position is different in a small but increasing number of jurisdictions overseas where such conduct is lawful. The most well known is the Netherlands but there are also statutory regimes that regulate VE and/or AS in Belgium and Luxembourg in Europe, and Oregon and Washington in the United States. A feature of these legislative models is that they incorporate review or oversight processes that enable the collection of data about how the law is being used. As a result, there is a significant body of evidence that is available for consideration to assess the operation of the law in these jurisdictions and some of this is considered briefly here. Assisting a suicide, if done for selfless motives, is also legal in Switzerland, and this has resulted in what has been referred to as ‘euthanasia tourism’. This model is also considered. The paper also identifies the major arguments in favour of, and against, legalisation of VE and AS. Arguments often advanced in favour of law reform include respect for autonomy, that public opinion favours reform, and that the current law is incoherent and discriminatory. Key arguments against legalising VE and AS point to the sanctity of life, concerns about the adequacy and effectiveness of safeguards, and a ‘slippery slope’ that will allow euthanasia to occur for minors or for adults where it is not voluntary. We have also attempted to step beyond these well trodden and often rehearsed cases ‘for and against’. To this end, we have identified some ethical values that might span both sides of the debate and perhaps be the subject of wider consensus. We then outline a framework for considering the issue of how Australia should regulate VE and AS. We begin by asking whether such conduct should be criminal acts (as they presently are). If VE and AS should continue to attract criminal responsibility, the next step is to enquire whether the law should punish such conduct more or less than is presently the case, or whether the law should stay the same. If a change is favoured as to how the criminal law punishes VE and AS, options considered include sentencing reform, creating context-specific offences or developing prosecutorial guidelines for how the criminal justice system deals with these issues. If VE and AS should not be criminal acts, then questions arise as to how and when they should be permitted and regulated. Possible elements of any reform model include: ensuring decision-making is competent and voluntary; ascertaining a person’s eligibility to utilise the regime, for example, whether it depends on him or her having a terminal illness or experiencing pain and suffering; and setting out processes for how any decision must be made and evidenced. Options to bring about decriminalisation include challenging the validity of laws that make VE and AS unlawful, recognising a defence to criminal prosecution, or creating a statutory framework to regulate the practice. We conclude the paper where we started: with a call for rational and informed consideration of a difficult and sensitive issue. How should Australia regulate voluntary euthanasia and assisted suicide?

Australian laws and policies on child neglect

This chapter describes the features of different Australian State and Territory laws and policies about child neglect. It makes observations about three major domains of law and policy: laws about child neglect to enable protection of children who are suffering severe neglect (child protection laws); laws and policies about the provision of services for children and their families when experiencing neglect (support-oriented laws and policies); and criminal laws about child neglect.