Judge calls for sex trials rethink

Farah Farouque | The Age | September 8, 2011

SOME accused sex offenders should be dealt with outside the traditional courts in a system similar to South Africa's truth and reconciliation commissions where they meet and hear from victims, says one of Victoria's most senior judges.

Justice Marcia Neave, of the Court of Appeal, told The Age she was deeply concerned that conviction rates for sexual assaults remained ''very, very low'' and guilty pleas had plunged, despite law reforms in the past decade. Victoria's criminal justice system was not working for victims of sex offences, despite changes to court rules and systems to accommodate their needs, she said.

It was time for policymakers to consider a radical alternative to traditional courts by diverting some sex offenders, including alleged rapists, into a system where they made admissions and met their victims in ''conference'' settings. The victims, or a spokesperson for them, would explain how their lives had been affected and discuss reparations - commonly the offender enrolling in a treatment program. No conviction would be recorded.

Both victim and offender would consent to participate under the plan, echoing principles used in the truth and reconciliation commission system that applied after the end of apartheid in South Africa.

As a first step, the idea should be tested in Victoria for carefully selected juvenile sex offenders, including those accused of rape, and perhaps also some adults accused of sex crimes that were decades old and hard to prove beyond reasonable doubt in a criminal court.

''If you can use truth and reconciliation in the context of the apartheid regime in South Africa, in the context of the terrible things that happened in East Timor with the militias, then you might be able to use it in [this sexual offence] context,'' the judge said.

Justice Neave plans to raise the idea, which she conceded was controversial and might be a hard-sell politically in Spring Street, in a paper she will give at an Australasian Institute of Judicial Administration conference in Sydney today.

The paper cites statistics including that fewer than 20 per cent of sexual assault victims report the offences to police. In Victoria, from 2004-05 to 2008-09 a conviction was recorded in about 50 per cent of sex cases that went to trial in the County Court. By 2009-10, the conviction rate had fallen to 38 per cent.

''It must be accepted that some allegations of sexual assault may be false or mistaken … [but] the vast majority of true allegations do not result in any redress through the criminal justice system,'' the paper says.

Before becoming a judge, Justice Neave chaired the Victorian Law Reform Commission, which recommended major changes to court rules and systems for hearing sex assault cases. While acknowledging difficulty persuading the public and politicians her latest proposal was the right path, it was ''not impossible to persuade people that this might be a better outcome'', she said.

''If we are talking about a 17-year-old boy who offended against a neighbour's child - or against a member of his family - I don't think it's rocket science to say that putting this person away for a long period of time will not necessarily mean that he will be persuaded that what he did was wrong and won't do it again.''

Justice Neave said the ''restorative justice'' principle, used for young sex offenders in South Australia and overseas for violent offences, was not a soft option and often harder on the accused than traditional courts.

Under the path, sex offenders would be selected for the program under strict guidelines to be developed by the DPP, victims groups, defence lawyers and the judiciary. Repeat offenders would be excluded.

Justice Neave said she had spoken to many sex assault victims who were not concerned only with retribution. ''They want a voice in the process.''

Dear Rapist…

Liz Seccuro | The Guardian | 30 April 2011

Twenty years after her assault at a college party, Liz Seccuro received a letter of apology from her attacker. The correspondence that followed led her to pursue justice at last

It was late summer 2005 and we were about to set out on an extended vacation with our two-year-old daughter, Ava. "Hey, you got a letter," said my husband Mike, tossing it to me like a Frisbee. It smelled faintly of vanilla, nice paper. I ripped it open and began to read the very precise, almost feminine cursive script.

Dear Elizabeth:

In October 1984 I harmed you. I can scarcely begin to understand the degree to which, in your eyes, my behaviour has affected you in its wake. Still, I stand prepared to hear from you about just how, and in what ways you've been affected; and to begin to set right the wrong I've done, in any way you see fit. Most sincerely yours, Will Beebe

In 1984, I arrived, like any other student, at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. An only child, I was the first in my family to attend college. My parents were thrilled, although the university was far from our home town, a suburb of New York City. I had graduated top of my high school class and was prepared to make something great of myself. But those hopes and dreams were dashed about five weeks later.

A dorm friend, desperately wanting to join a fraternity, begged me to be his date to a party at Phi Kappa Psi, a massive pile of Georgian bricks and white columns at the head of fraternity row. Reluctantly, I climbed out of my sweatpants and donned a denim miniskirt, long-sleeved crew-neck sweater, navy blue flats and a pearl necklace. And then we set off on our five-minute walk with a few other friends from our dorm.

We arrived to the din of a party in full swing – a band, kegs of beer, jubilant collegians. Nothing out of the ordinary, but for the fact that my date was gay and, back in 1984, being gay was not as openly accepted as it is today. He needed to "pass", so I stuck to his side as we toured the property and listened to the brothers talk about tradition, academia and the honour that was bestowed upon the lucky few who would be chosen as Phi Kappa Psi brothers.

We got separated. My date was invited to smoke pot with some brothers. I had never done so, nor did I want to start. I decided to wait in the second-floor living room, thinking I'd be safer there than walking home alone. I sat on a sofa near a makeshift bar where two brothers, acting as bartenders, assured me that my friend would be back soon. And would I like a drink?

Not wanting to seem square, I said yes.