Ben Barnett, a reporter with the Telegraph and Argus in Bradford, caught a glimpse of life on the other side of the law when he was “arrested” for drug offences after volunteering to take part in a police exercise to give readers an insight into police processes. Stripped of his possessions, Ben felt the cold sombre metal of a police van and cell. Here, he describes the experience.

Restrained by the wrists with solid steel, the cold shiny, indented metal beneath my buttocks, my perch in the enclosed compartment in the back of a police van was a sign of the discomfort to come.

To be led away in the middle of the street, escorted by a police officer and thrown inside this metallic prison, can only be utter humiliation, there’s nowhere to hide.

A slam and a thud, the twin doors of the vehicle encase me in a cage with a perspex wall and iron bars. There’s no room to stretch my legs.

The van stops at a back entrance to the Bradford headquarters of West Yorkshire Police, the doors are pulled open and again I’m led away, this time into the lower bowels of the station.

First stop, still in cuffs, is the holding area. A rectangular room, CCTV trained on me as I sit next to the accompanying officer, here I wait and wait. Having been arrested you could be waiting here for hours, depending on how many other people have been rounded up.

The door opens and I’m taken to a desk. I’m suddenly aware of the low ceilings, the lack of windows, it heightens my feeling of entrapment.

Then begins a process of surrender. I’m asked my name, date of birth, if I understand my rights. Do I want a solicitor? Do I want the police to contact someone to tell them where I am?

Then it’s my possessions and a search. Pockets out-turned, stripped of my jacket, belt, watch, jewellery, money. A probation officer runs a metal detector over my body, my collar is checked for concealed items.

I’m ordered to take my socks off and turn them inside out. I agree to a DNA test to confirm I am who I say I am.

My arms held out from my sides, stripped of possessions, my personal details given over, the humiliation amid the frankness of law enforcement is complete. In situations like this, arrested on suspicion of possession with intent to supply Class A drugs, a strip search and a mandatory drugs test is the norm.

Next is a choice. Would I rather have ten hairs plucked from my head or two mouth swabs taken? I go for the latter. My fingerprints are scanned in and checked against the national computer database.

I’m led off to the cells. The window of the cell allows in light, but is misted and lined with bars. There’s a low bench opposite the heavy, locked door on which lies a thin, foam cover. Sitting there waiting is the very picture of being shamed and alone.

Comments

Laura (12/06/2008 11:40:01)
My partner was arrested and treated in exactly the same way, nine months ago. He was never charged. The experience left him traumatised and broken. He has since suffered severe depression and been suicidal on occassions. He has been off work for long periods and has received counselling which has done little to help him come to terms with what can only be described as his ‘ordeal’.
My partner was taken to a police staion hundreds of miles away as the alleged offences occurred in another part of the country. After his arrest and interview he was ‘dumped’ on the street and left to make his own way home. OK for him as he had his wallet and credit cards etc. and could pay his fares (amounting to over £200) but what if this had been a young person or anyone without the funds to get home?
Myself, my family and others have been left to pick up the pieces and try to help and support a vulnerable individual, with little or no support for ourselves.
My strongest feelings about this incident? My sense of absolute outrage at the police attitude of ‘guilty until proven innocent’ combined with their total lack of compassion. I appreciate they have a job to do, they have rules and regulations to abide by and that we need a univerasl system of law enforcement for any democratic society to function, but I would go as far as to stick my neck out and say that in all my years as a journalist the police force has to be the most ‘compassionless’ organistaion I have come across. I have met, known and worked with numerous police officers over the years and obviously there are those who prove the exception to the rule as in any organisation. My experience (above) is of course personal and subjective, but I can’t hlep feeling that as part of police training the officers should go through the arrest and ‘custody suite’ procedures themselves, just to learn what it feels like.
Mine and my partners experience has prompted me to carry out a lot of research into this very matter and in interviewing police officers and legal profesionals too, I have aked what if this was your son, husband, girlfriend etc. that this was happenning to?
That is when they usually clam up, make excuses and end the interview.

Brenda Callaghan (13/06/2008 08:38:55)
But why was Laura’s boyfriend picked up in the first place? All you have to ask is whether his treatment is different from that of Pete Doherty. Does he get the same humiliating treatment. There are so many evil folks on our streets that the police have to be hard. Was her boyfriend beaten up or tortured.THe police knew he had money to get home.Not many “poor” youngsters would be hundreds of miles away from home. As a journalist Laura is able to play with words, so makes everything sound much worse than it is.Ben Barnett is the same. Perhaps if one of their own had died from drugs supplied off the streets they might think differently. Myself I never feel sorry for drug users. Nor alcoholics. A lot of people think like me, what a waste of money from the taxpayers trying to stop people drugging and drinking.