Penal codes

Bail laws are the chum of state politics. They are dug out of the bucket after every major crime and during every election campaign. They light up talkback radio and provide easy headlines in the tabloid press. The laws and their arbitrary tightening satisfy an unsettling truth about Australia: that this country loves prisons.

For three decades now, law and order has been a defining feature of all state elections. It kept Bob Carr in office and helped Ted Baillieu out of opposition. Criminologists call this penal populism, the base-most appeal to worst fears and worse solutions.

Emboldened by the press and police unions, both sides compete over toughness on crime. As a result, prison populations have ballooned. Mandatory sentencing has disempowered the judiciary. On any given day, more than a third of the people in prison have been convicted of no crime. This number rose by 16 per cent in a year.

This week, a coroner in Victoria found that populist bail laws contributed to the death of Veronica Nelson, a Gunditjmara,

Dja Dja Wurrung, Wiradjuri and Yorta

Yorta woman. The coroner says her death was preventable, which is self-evident.

Her treatment by prison staff was cruel and degrading.

Nelson had been arrested a few days after Christmas on suspicion of shoplifting. She had two outstanding warrants. She represented herself in court and was denied bail.

Nelson had been found guilty of nothing. She was in prison because of the foul, febrile, punishment-loving nature of our second tier of politics. She was in prison because voters with low fences like the idea of never meeting people like her and never thinking about the consequences of that low desire.

Before she died, she cried out for help almost 50 times. She was withdrawing from drugs and was vomiting and cramping. This was so common that guards paid no notice to it. Privatised health services did not offer her support. An autopsy showed her stomach was distended and grossly dilated. She weighed 33 kilograms.

Her mother says she chose for a long time not to watch the tapes of her daughter’s death. She says seeing them in the inquest ruined her and has changed her forever. She cannot stop hearing her daughter’s pleas. This is especially true at night.

“To the lawmakers, I want you to sit and listen to Veronica’s final hours,” she says. “I want her voice to ring in your ears until you realise that our justice system is broken. Veronica should never have been locked up.”

The premier, Daniel Andrews, says he has plans to reform bail laws. He won’t say what they are. It was his government that strengthened them in the first place, more than once. Billions have been spent on prisons to accommodate his draconian promises.

Andrews’ statement this week is a reminder of the ugly reality of law and order campaigns. They are based only on unfounded anxieties. They are useful because fearful people are useful. They do not make the country safer; they make vulnerable people less safe.

What reforms do come will be welcome. A bigger question remains, however: Why is this country • so insistent on remaining a penal colony?