DAVID PENBERTHY: The scarier aspect of isn’t the driving but what happens to these offenders

ASIDE from sport and cooking shows, I don’t watch a lot of TV but have found myself strangely drawn to the Channel 9 program RBT where a conga line of pisspots, methheads and the occasional innocent who’s had just the one drink are paraded before the cameras while being breathtested by the cops.

This reality program has a strange game-show quality, where you find yourself trying to guess the blood-alcohol readings of the drivers based on the nature of their behaviour. It’s become a bit of a family pastime at our place with the kids.

It’s a cinch working out whether the drivers are on meth, as the two things these ice-addled motorists share are appalling teeth and a baseless but furious sense of indignation that anyone would dare suggest that they have ever taken drugs, even though the machine is about to go “dingding-ding” and prove they had their last line a few hours ago.

With the boozers, it’s not as easy as you get a few drivers who are borderline. The general rule of thumb seems to be that anyone who is three times over the limit struggles to play the role of the straight man.

Whatever entertainment value this program has is neutralised by the chilling fact that these are all real people who proliferate in large numbers right across Australia.

They’re sitting behind us in traffic, they’re going through the intersections as we wait for the lights to change, they’re among us at school pick-up.

The rate at which these people are arrested and prosecuted continues to increase, with the number of meth-related convictions in all categories of crime doubling in the past 12 months from about 25,000 a year to almost 50,000 a year.

In some ways, the scarier aspect of RBT isn’t the drug and alcohol-affected driving itself but the end story of what happens to these offenders once they’re dealt with by the courts.

Too frequently, you see cases where someone is three, four or five times over, or off their chops on meth, eyes darting around hopelessly.

But because it’s a first offence – or, in some cases, even a second offence – they luck their way to a fully suspended sentence and a modest fine.

There was one case in Vic- toria during the week which presented the human reality. It involved a driver who killed a little girl while seriously over the blood-alcohol limit but who, in the wisdom of the courts, has been given a very generous second chance at life even though he robbed a 16-month girl of that same opportunity.

Blake Chadwick faced 20 years in jail after he pleaded guilty to culpable driving causing the death of the toddler on Victoria’s Phillip Island on December 17 last year.

The Herald-Sun reported that Chadwick, 25, was three times over the legal limit, blowing a hefty .156 per cent, when he ran a Stop sign at an intersection and smashed into a car carrying a family of four – including the girl.

In sentencing Chadwick, County Court judge Paul Lacava was misleadingly hairy-chested with his furious condemnation of Chadwick’s actions.

“The collision was caused by you,” Judge Lacava said. “While driving, you failed to obey a Stop sign. You had been drinking.”

So what happened next? Having a maximum 20-year sentence at his disposal, Judge Lacava proceeded to give Chadwick less than 25 per cent of that penalty, sentencing this scumbag to seven years in jail, with a minimum of just four years and eight months after which he will be eligible for parole.

The reason for this generosity? Chadwick had written a letter to the family saying he was sorry.

David Penberthy is a News Corp columnist