IF I WAS ever in a chatting situation with a High Court Judge – well let’s not get too pernickety, a low court judge will do and is equally unlikely as I do not move in those circles — these are some of the questions I would like to ask her.

“What proportion of those found guilty are not guilty of that crime, in her professional opinion?”

I imagine that question would be unwelcome, and would elicit an evasive answer such as, ‘nowhere near as many as the guilty ones who are found not guilty!’

“Suppose an innocent person is convicted, sentenced and jailed, would you advise them to admit guilt in order to avoid longer, or even permanent, incarceration?

“And suppose that person was your child..?”

Under English law, if someone pleads not guilty and is given a verdict of guilty, they are not then charged with perjury, the reason being that people are not required to incriminate themselves.

That principle, however, is eroded when they are offered a lesser sentence if they plead guilty, and thrown to the winds when they are sentenced to imprisonment.

Although the authorities equivocate, it seems clear parole is mostly not given to those who do not admit they dunnit.

And yet, it must surely be accepted by the most stalwart upholder of our legal system that there must be some who are found guilty who are not — there certainly have been in the past.

What about the Guildford four, the Birmingham five and the Maguire seven?

The Freshwater five may be in a similar situation today.

The judge would, of course, say the judiciary do not make these regulations.

They are made by civil servants, and they in turn are acting on the instructions of MPs.

All these bodies would point the finger at the juries who brought in the verdicts of guilty.

It would be of value to ask those jury members, who convicted someone later proved innocent, how that could have happened?

The advice quoted in my previous column — if at first you don’t succeed, skydiving is not the sport for you — can be seen on the wall amongst other wit at Chipmunk’s (who know me as ‘medium cod, fishcake, small chips and peas’) in Monkton Street, Ryde.

Now, who said, ‘better ten guilty men go free than one is wrongly convicted?’