One of the outcomes of the love-fest between John Howard and the premiers at last week’s COAG meeting was an agreement to review the law of “double jeopardy”,
which prevents people from being tried twice for the same offence. It
has been argued that advances in technology, particularly the
availability of DNA evidence, undermine the original rationale for the
rule and that therefore certain limited exceptions should be made.

I’m
not convinced by this argument. But leaving aside the merits of the
case, what’s interesting is the way it’s argued for. It’s presented as
an issue of “victims’ rights”, and lobbied for by the relatives of people killed by those who (allegedly) were wrongly acquitted.

Two
problems here. Firstly, it’s a twisted conception of what victims’
interests amounts to. Victims and their loved ones are being told that
revenge is essential to their well-being. Realistically, most of them
would be better off trying to get on with their lives. In other
contexts, when our emotions haven’t been stoked by the “Laura Norder”
brigade, we usually think that a quest for revenge diminishes a person,
and that forgiveness and acceptance are healthier attitudes.

Secondly,
whatever the victims’ interests are, this sort of reform is looking for
them in the wrong place. The criminal law has got nothing to do with
justice for victims: it’s about justice for society. That’s what
distinguishes crime from civil wrongs. As I said last month, in regard
to Ivan Milat’s perks, “if you want personal retribution, file a civil
suit.”

The debate on crime is difficult enough without throwing
in red herrings like “victims’ rights”. If tougher measures are needed,
they’re needed in order to make society safer, not to pursue some
illusory personal redress. Victims of crime deserve our sympathy, but
they do not deserve a special voice in policy-making.