'Criminal Justice Expertise: Wicked Problems, Governance, and the Power of Knowledge'

Increasing numbers of people claim to have expertise about criminal justice, whether it is the causes of coercive control that led to the creation of new domestic abuse offences, public health approaches to youth violence, harm reduction strategies for problematic drug use, trauma-informed practice for sexual offences trials, or sundry suggestions for improving penal policy. But what exactly is criminal justice ‘expertise’, and on what basis can people call themselves ‘experts’ in this area?

I begin by arguing that wicked problems – i.e. complex, intractable, value-laden issues prone to public controversy and political contestation – such as crime and punishment tend to attract the attention of researchers in different institutions (e.g. universities, think-tanks and charities). Their policy-relevant knowledge can be appealing to political decision makers, especially when faced with new or emerging challenges, or in respect of long standing, highly contentious issues. I then explain that modern governance occurs within overlapping political orders (e.g. global, regional, national and local), where policymaking is dispersed across multiple networks of public officials, experts, practitioners and other stakeholders. This enables a wide array of input from different epistemic authorities, including paradigmatic forms of expertise (e.g. systematic research conducted by university professors according to recognised social scientific methodologies) but also the professional know-how of those who work in the criminal justice system, and the personal experiences of individuals who have been affected by crime and punishment.

How can we validate these different claims about expert status, how much weight ought to be given to each of them, and how should we adjudicate on competing expert claims? In short, what should be the relationship between power and knowledge? These are the central questions I shall address in the presentation.

Aim: To provide a realist, critical explanation of the different responses to drug-related deaths at the UK and Scottish levels, between 2015 and 2021.
Method: The paper uses the drug policy constellation approach. This is a critical realist theoretical framework which focuses on forms of power and morality that underlie drug policy decision-making. This provides a useful guide to comparison between different polities. Empirically, the paper uses mixed method, including ethnographic fieldnotes of the author’s participation in policy making (n=1), elite interviews (n=22), discourse analysis of policy debates and documents (n=176), coded in Nvivo, and two-mode social network analysis in Gephi showing the sociograms of 1,889 coded ties between policy actors (n=335; 247 individuals, 88 organisations) and their policy positions (n=173).
Finding: There are distinct ethico-political bases for drug policy making at UK and Scottish levels. At UK level, the dominant, medico-penal policy constellation is based on the overlap between traditionalist, conservatism and paternalist public health. In Scotland, there is a greater influence of egalitarianism and progressive social justice. At UK level, extra funding for drug treatment was secured by the savvy mobilisation of the narrative that treatment reduces crime. In Scotland, a broader campaign succeeded in framing the drug deaths rate as a national ‘shame’, leading to swifter and more substantial action, with a greater focus on harm reduction and human rights.
Conclusion: The drug policy constellations approach provides a practically adequate and persuasive framework for comparative drug policy analysis.

This research delves into the shortcomings and failures of criminology in its willingness
to include or otherwise fairly portray drug users. With my unique positionality as a
person with a history of drug dependence, and as a criminologist immersed in the harm
reduction community, this research addresses difficult questions in an attempt to hold
criminology accountable and increase and improve its relationship with drug users.
Within academia, ‘problematic’ drug users are seen and described as unreliable, not
credible, and chaotic. Who determines this to be the case? How are people with lived
experience seen as unable to meaningfully contribute or even recount their own stories
in criminological research? Who is allowed to be considered an expert within this field?
Who is this research for and what is it being used to do? How does criminology
reproduce harmful stereotypes and stigma surrounding people who use drugs? When
taken seriously, these questions can help researchers become aware of their own
biases and better understand why people with lived experience may be unwilling or
hesitant to engage in criminological research. This knowledge and reflection create a
possibility to include people with lived experience in criminology and a more equitable
way of working with ‘other’ forms of experts. Criminology can and should be better
equipped in who it works with and for; addressing its past and present problems is
necessary to produce wider and more honest research, especially with marginalised
communities.