As judges are given powers to compel offenders to appear before them, KentOnline crown court reporter Julia Roberts explores the often-complex reasons they fail to show…

Much has been aired and argued about defendants refusing to attend court for their trials or sentencing hearings.

Those who fail to appear have been labelled "cowardly criminals" by politicians, but there was nothing in law that could force them to face the music. Until now.

High-profile cases such as those of convicted killers Thomas Cashman and Jordan McSweeney has now led to crown court judges being given powers to compel offenders to appear before them.

Here in Kent it's too early to have seen them put to use. But refusals to attend legal proceedings are nothing new, despite what recent publicity and campaigning by victims' families may lead you to believe.

Defendants in custody have long been telling prison guards they won't be getting on the van that day or leaving their cells for a prison video link room to the court, whether in a high-profile case or not.

Those that have made headlines here in the county for doing just that include the recent cases of Maureen Rickards, sentenced to life imprisonment for murdering her husband, Jeremy, and serial flasher Robert Jenner, who repeatedly stabbed a police officer in a bid to kill him.

Rickards' excuse was that she had not been fed by the prison and, as a diabetic, her glucose levels were low.

But even though the judge permitted her some time to eat, she remained steadfast and did not return to the video link waiting to beam her back into the courtroom. There was no extra penalty imposed.

Jenner was slightly different in that he simply refused to engage with all court hearings, stopped attending long before his trial got underway and maintained that stance throughout, including his sentencing. Again, no impact on the jail term imposed.

Nine years ago, Colin Ash-Smith - the Swanscombe former milkman who murdered Dartford schoolgirl Claire Tiltman - made it as far as the cells at Inner London Crown Court but then simply refused to step into the courtroom to hear Mr Justice Sweeney jail him for life. He wasn't dragged up to the courtroom, no matter how many thought he deserved to be.

In such circumstances, the judges simply continued in their absences but addressed their sentencing remarks to the defendant as if still standing before them, using "You" rather than "He/She/They".

It certainly loses impact, and for victims or victims' loved ones, it must feel like they have been robbed of the opportunity to ram home the devastating consequences of the crime that has been committed by reading their statements for the perpetrator to hear.

Judges can order that sentencing comments are passed on in writing to the prisoner. One barrister recently suggested to me that a more fitting way to treat such absentees would be to blast their cell with a recording of what was said, even perhaps on a daily basis as a reminder of what they 'missed' out on.

Reasons for non-attendance are not often given to the court, but the current overcrowded prison population has led to many inmates voicing their concerns that the institution they leave behind to travel to court that day may not be the one they return to when proceedings are over.

Potentially, there is a risk they could find themselves at another prison, out of the county, without any of their belongings.

For those who are "time served" - in other words, by day of sentencing they are due for immediate release because of the weeks or months already spent on remand - it could mean being freed from the court itself, again without any of their personal items.

“For victims or victims' loved ones, it must feel like they have been robbed of the opportunity to ram home the devastating consequences of the crime that has been committed…”

Video links, prevalent since Covid times, have resolved the issue to a certain extent as it means prisoners can appear remotely instead of ducking out of 'attending' court altogether.

But while there are those who relish the opportunity of immediate freedom from the court cells, for some a bed for one more night seems a more welcoming option.

Take one young man at a Kent court recently who, having been in custody since last year accused of murder, was suddenly acquitted mid-trial when the prosecution dropped the charges.

The judge had the power to discharge him from the dock immediately. But surprisingly, he asked through his lawyers that he be allowed to return to the prison and formally released by the court the next day.

The reason? His belongings were in his cell and he desperately wanted them more than his pending freedom, it would seem.

His request was granted and, after one more night in custody, he was released.

You might wonder what was so important? What were those belongings?

It turns out it was a simple list of phone numbers. Contacts of people important to him.

Without them, he had nothing. He would have left court a free man but with no one to call and nowhere to go but on the streets.

Offenders in custody are often released from court, late in the afternoon or early evening, without their possessions and with support services such as probation on the point of closing for the night or, worse still, the weekend, making them vulnerable prey for the criminally-minded or at risk of quickly returning to old ways.

So while life behind bars may be bleak for some, life on the outside, it would seem, can pose an even bleaker prospect for others.