Seen, but not heard

Watching a Scottish judge delivering his sentence in a murder case last week was a strange, slightly surreal experience. There was no background noise, no footage of the defendant. The shouts, which later rang out from the public gallery when he was led away, were edited out. The focus was entirely on the judge, Lord Bracadale. He spoke quietly and calmly, giving no hint in the way he spoke of the horrible crime that had been committed.

The sentencing of David Gilroy was a milestone in British legal history '“ the first time a judge had been filmed sentencing, not as part of a documentary, but for broadcast on the same day. Justice secretary Ken Clarke would like to extend the experiment south of the border, and it has been reported by the BBC that a measure will feature in next month's Queen Speech.

Meanwhile in Norway, the trial of Anders Breivik exposed some of the pitfalls of televising criminal trials. The moment the handcuffs came off, he smiled and gave a clenched fist salute. As he must have hoped, it became one of the two dominant images of the day. The other was less flattering. It was of him crying as he watched one of his own propaganda videos. This suggested a man who, far from being a tower of strength, was pathetic and self-obsessed.

But the clenched fist salute had done its work. The Norwegian authorities lost their nerve and interrupted the broadcasts. First it was the tape of a mobile phone call from Utoya Island with shooting in the background, which, it was decided, was too distressing to be broadcast. Then it was Breivik's cross-examination. Would his incoherent ramblings, if broadcast, really attract people to the cause of white extremism? Failing to broadcast them perhaps gives him more credibility. After all, he described Norway as a 'prison' where he cannot express his views.

When the televising of criminal trials comes to England and Wales, the justice secretary has promised it will be confined to the judge's summing up and sentencing. No doubt it will be carefully edited, along the lines of Lord Bracadale, and any backstage commotion left out.

But what exactly is it showing us? The shouts from the public gallery, the expression on the face of the defendant, the whole 'theatrical' experience, as Clarke has described it, is what the public wants to see. More than that, the emotion and the anger are part of the reality of a criminal trial.

It may be best to confine court TV to the civil courts, the Court of Appeal and the Supreme Court, where it already is, and leave criminal trials alone. Court reporters and court artists can do a much better job than any censored or sanitised broadcast.

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