Youth justice community reparation (YJCR) has its origins in the ‘reparation order’ created by the Crime and Disorder Act 1998 and the ‘community service order’ introduced in the 1970s. It is available to courts dealing with young offenders aged 10–17 years and involves a defined period of unpaid community-based work, typically graffiti removal, litter picking, shrub clearance, or painting and decorating. The tasks are completed in small groups during weekends and evenings and can involve a range of service providers. This book draws on Pamment's own experience as a community reparation supervisor, the views of young offenders themselves and allied research. It is published as part of the Palgrave Pivot series that aims to present key ideas in short, accessible formats and sets out to assemble and assess evidence of the (potential) impact of YJCR. Pamment argues that YJCR ‘has the potential to be a highly successful reintegrative intervention for young offenders’ (p.2). He acknowledges that this view is rather at odds with previous studies that have been very critical of the programme, either on the grounds that the work required was menial and demeaning or that, when badged as ‘community payback’, it carried unpalatable links with the politics of retributive populism. He notes that further criticism has been prompted by the Ministry of Justice's own data which showed a damning rise in post-completion reconvictions from 54% in 2002 to 67% in 2009. Pamment takes a more optimistic view of YJCR – a view no doubt influenced, in part, by his own up-close view of its individual impacts and also supported by his local and national data. He argues that the right work placements, although unpaid, can motivate offenders, as well as giving them real skills and the opportunity to ‘make amends’ (p.76). He suggests that the potential success of the programme will always be compromised by the wrong placements as well as by poorly-defined outcome measures. The young offenders featured in the study expressed similar views, albeit in more direct terms. Those assigned menial tasks were scathing: ‘It's just pointless and a waste of time. How do you get skills from picking up litter? It's crap’. By contrast, those assigned more challenging tasks were more positive: ‘I have never used a drill like that before. I reckon I could use it again, on my own without any help’ (p.60). This is a useful study, offering a thoughtful overview of YJCR from its origins up to its partial rebranding as ‘Making Good’ by the Youth Justice Board in 2009/10. It is rather hampered, however, by its lack of coverage of developments in youth justice since then. There is certainly a place for studies like this that explore the more constructive and empowering potential of youth justice interventions. However, there remains a place, too, for a wider and more critical overview of our youth justice system and the society that sustains it. For all the welcome rise in more restorative approaches and decline in custodial sentences, that system remains one of the most punitive in Europe. It retains one of the lowest ages of criminal responsibility in the world. Its reconviction rates are scandalously high. Along with elements of the child protection system, its impact on young life chances is woeful. The shameful social and economic inequalities that underlie so much of its ‘core business’ are widening. The long-term employment and housing prospects of so many marginal young people – let alone those involved in the care or youth justice systems – are bleak. I know from my own experience of evaluating family justice interventions that it is always challenging to keep this big picture in mind when trying to assess the impact of a particular policy. It is also hard to do in a short book. However, we need to do just that if we are to keep social justice firmly in the frame of criminal justice research. The two are surely inseparable.
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Apr 30, 2024
Fahreshi Arya Pinthaka + 2
Open Access
