Jacob Williams https://jacobwilliams.com

Following on from yesterday’s article (Terrible with names), this is the other blogpost I never got round to publishing this year.

The conviction and lengthy jail sentence handed down this summer to Pembrokeshire county councillor Dai Boswell for historic child sex crimes sparked much discussion and misunderstanding about DBS (Disclosure and Barring Service) checks on councillors.

Formerly and colloquially still known as CRB checks, DBS checks allow employers to establish if workers or volunteers have any criminal history which should rule them out of a position on grounds of trust.

Perhaps more accurately, it prevents people lying about their criminal history to their bosses – and in that respect it’s foolproof, because it puts the employer in possession of a copy of the subject’s rap sheet.

Of course, if a person has never even been questioned over, never mind convicted of crimes they in fact committed, the check will reveal nothing untoward against even the most hardened criminal.

Another obvious element to a DBS check is that it’s only good for the day it’s issued.

If a trainee bank clerk is convicted of theft the month after she was employed off the back of a squeaky clean DBS disclosure, it couldn’t possibly show up until a subsequent disclosure, possibly years later.

These two concepts are widely understood, but as far as public figures are concerned, there’s a misconception that, the mere undertaking by a councillor to agree to be subjected to a DBS disclosure is in itself capable of offering reassurance.

Some are surprised to learn that there is no requirement for councillors to undergo a DBS check.

It is a fact that many councillors serve as school governors – but they’re not automatically governors by virtue of their elected position.

Councillors’ governor appointments require a DBS disclosure in the same way anybody wishing to be a school governor, employee or volunteer would have to.

But a DBS disclosure is not an achievement, nor a clearance. It isn’t even a good indicator – it is merely the process of a person’s criminal history having been requested by and presented – with the subject’s agreement – to the employer.

In the case of Pembrokeshire County Council employees and councillors this would be the human resources department.

PCC’s website reveals on each councillor’s profile if they’ve been subjected to a DBS disclosure and, if so, the date it was issued.

Some residents are reassured to learn that their councillor has had a DBS check, wrongly interpreting this fact alone to reflect well on the elected representative’s character and clean history.

But knowing your councillor has had a DBS check is no indication that his past is squeaky clean, that he’s a notorious rogue, or anything in-between.

All it reveals is that he has allowed his criminal history (or lack thereof) to be shared with the council’s HR department – who have no legal ability to sack a councillor even if it revealed the most horrendous crimes against humanity.

The only important thing about a DBS disclosure as far as public reassurance is concerned is: what is disclosed, to whom it is disclosed, and chiefly what decisions and actions it leads those individuals in receipt of it to take.

Since none of this is publicly revealed, the amount of public reassurance is, therefore, paradoxical – reliant on trust in proper processes happening as a result of the disclosure.

In other words, to be effective, the disclosure must be shared with the right people who can, if necessary, take action to prevent bad people being in places they shouldn’t.

So it’s these human responses to the disclosure – which we probably won’t ever know about – which are capable of protecting the public, not the disclosure itself.

Consider the fictional example of a newly-elected councillor. Let’s call him Fred Wrongun.

Fred is the worst kind of criminal, but nonetheless this former jailbird was democratically elected and, following the election, he doesn’t have to but he volunteers to undergo a DBS disclosure.

Cllr. Wrongun’s profile on the council’s website is then updated, quite rightly, to say – and I quote the actual template wording used by PCC’s website administrators:

“Councillor Wrongun has an Enhanced DBS Certificate – regulated activity – children. This was issued on [day/month/year] and will expire on [day/month/year.]”

The idea that this fact alone offers public reassurance that Fred is an upstanding chap is nonsense, because all it means is that his lengthy rap sheet has been shown to the HR department.

The public is no closer to understanding if he’s a good egg or rotten to the core.

If I can put it in a way my fellow petrolheads might appreciate, we’ve probably all at some point had the dreaded MOT anxiety come the time of our car’s annual test.

Even though you’d trust your ageing jalopy with your life, even though she presents no ill symptoms or deficiencies, emits no untoward clunks or leaks, in the back of your mind lays unease that something expensive is lurking, waiting to be found by the clipboard-wielding test inspector.

You drop it off at the garage, say three Hail Marys before handing over the keys with everything crossed, and await the subsequent telephone call.

Later in the day the garage telephones you. Their only words to you are: “your car has been inspected.”

By now with a cold sweat and racing heartbeat, your next contribution to this phonecall will certainly be the question: “did it pass?”

And that’s the point.

The sole knowledge that your councillor has agreed to undergo a DBS check is like knowing your beloved banger has gone through a thorough inspection by a government-regulated MOT tester.

Without knowing what the inspection revealed, or what action it necessitates or leads to, it’s absolutely meaningless information.

Not just meaningless as far as public reassurance is concerned, but meaningless full stop.