120 Criminology & Criminal Justice 13(1)Before the subject.docx

120 Criminology & Criminal Justice 13(1)
Before the subject of social class is addressed the reader is
guided through sensitively
analysed data about many themes of previous studies.
Similarities and differences are
pointed out in a style that avoids repetition – this is still
relevant, that is different. Bethan
Loftus crafts a vivid portrait of the occupational culture that
significantly adds to the lit-
erature. Expressions of solidarity among officers, of cynicism
about groups within the
population policed; of a police moral mission; of crime fighting
as central to police work;
of territorial control; and many other subjects are documented
to seal the thesis that many
generic features of the occupational culture remain within the
social context of late moder-
nity. The argument is convincing and important, developing
rather than repeating previous
work. When it comes to the consideration of change, the
analysis suggests an interruption
of, rather than a radical or significant rupture to, some features
of the occupational culture.
Aspects of work about domestic violence and of ethnic relations
are examples of where
policy and law have made an impact. Here, the argument is
again subtle and convincing.
Returning to the marginalization of young men within late
modern conditions, Loftus
describes and analyses policing tactics that reproduce their
exclusion and, importantly,

express symbolic domination. The ways in which officers
identify and characterize young
men are detailed; their related actions are documented skilfully.
Important aspects of
social class within late modernity are analysed through the lens
of policing.
Bethan Loftus has written a fine book that makes an excellent
contribution to an estab-
lished, international field of study. Her thesis must have been of
A++ quality! It seems
somewhat churlish to make criticisms of the work but I
wondered if her discussion of mar-
ginalized youth underemphasized that many of them dealt with
by officers could have been
offenders rather than ‘youth’? Checking this matter would have
provided deeper insights.
The book is within the sociological tradition but I would have
liked a more critical approach
to the sociological assumptions underpinning previous studies
and how her work has added
to and, more importantly, questions them. The notion that the
occupational culture has been
interrupted rather than fundamentally changed could have been
discussed further. What,
for example, seem to be the generic and more transitory features
of the occupational cul-
ture? Why do some of its features change and others abide?
What counts as cultural change?
Indeed, more widely, the analysis is sufficiently sophisticated to
comment on a wider field
of organizational studies dealing with cultural change. If other
scholars took up these sub-
jects it would signal the importance not the inadequacy of
Bethan Loftus’s contribution to
our understanding of the police and of organizations. Loftus has

revived a sociological
understanding of the police and other subjects that is lacking in
far too much contemporary
criminology. This is an excellent book that deserves close
attention.
2012
Susanne Karstedt, Ian Loader and Heather Strang (eds)
Emotions, Crime and Justice, Onãti International Series in Law
and Society, Hart
Publishing: Oxford, 2011; 394 pp.: 9781849461610, £50 (hbk)
Reviewed by: Lode Walgrave, University of Leuven, Belgium
Emotions steer our lives. If they did not, we would all drive the
same useful cars, eat
healthy food instead of enjoying pleasant dinners with friends,
live in the same practical
at Apollo Group - UOP on April 21,
2015crj.sagepub.comDownloaded from
http://crj.sagepub.com/
Book reviews 121
houses, and take some rest instead of enjoying holidays.
Emotions make the human
world diverse, surprising, coloured, sometimes pleasant,
hedonistic, sometimes sad,
painful or even cruel. It is the essential difference between the
real world and a science
fiction world populated by robots. Some political regimes have
tried in recent history to
create emotionless – in their view practical – systems. But these

regimes were not attrac-
tive and they failed completely. Imagining a life without
emotions is impossible.
Therefore, the title of the book edited by Susanne Karstedt, Ian
Loader and Heather
Strang, Emotions, Crime and Justice (2011), may sound like as
self-evident a title as
‘The wheels of a car’, or ‘Food in a restaurant’.
Yet, the book is a must read. It presents a series of state of the
art chapters on various
subjects that are critical in criminology. The chapters are deeply
rooted in the patrimony
of criminological literature; many of them offer an excellent
balance of theoretical reflec-
tion and empirical work; the empirical methodology ranges from
insightful qualitative
observation, even introspective reflection, to clever quantitative
measuring and sophisti-
cated statistics; all chapters witness a critical concern for the
instrumental, social, politi-
cal and moral implications. In short, the book is an example of
what I have called
‘criminology as I see it ideally’ (Walgrave, 2008b).
A Wide Spectrum of Essential Topics for Criminology
In the introductory problem statement, ‘Handle with care:
Emotions, crime and justice’,
Susanne Karstedt notes the conflicting pressures to be
reconciled when ‘re-emotionaliz-
ing’ justice. On the one hand, the criminal act and subsequent
efforts to do justice are
imbued with emotion. On the other hand, giving way to
emotions when responding to
crime may risk an ‘outburst of the populace’ (p. 2).

In the first part of the book, ‘Emotions in transgression and
crime’, Randall Collins
analyses the process that may lead groups to ‘forward panic and
violent atrocities’.
Willem De Haan shows that acts of violence may seem
‘senseless’ in the eye of the
bystander, but have a deep meaning for the perpetrator. Eliza
Ahmed and John Braithwaite
conclude an empirical test that the integrated shame
management/pride management
model presents a ‘formidable explanatory power’ for bullying in
the workplace.
Interviews with probationers lead Adam Calverley and Stephen
Farrall to write that ‘pro-
viding people with a sense of hope may be the key to unlocking
desistance for many men
and women whose past lives have been characterised by an
involvement in crime’ (p.
98). Wesley Skogan relates developments in fear of crime to
actual crime trends. Inspired
by Ranulf’s vision, Anna King and Shadd Maruna examine the
relation between puni-
tiveness, and resentment and envy.
In the second part, ‘Emotional experiences of justice’, Larry
Sherman and Heather
Strang challenge the assumption that vengefulness is natural by
showing that vengeful-
ness can transform into sympathy. Contrary to the predominance
of reintegrative sham-
ing theory, Meredith Rossner advances Collins’ interaction
ritual theory as the main
explanatory construct to understand the emotional dynamics of a
restorative justice con-
ference. Nathan Harris digs deep into the psychological

literature to fine-tune the shame
concept and to locate it more accurately in our ‘psychological
machinery’ and in the
social context. For Kristina Murphy the procedural justice
theory (Tyler, 1990) needs to
be complemented by the study of emotions that link the
experience of (lack of) proce-
dural justice to the acceptance (or not) of decisions by
authorities.
The third part of the book is called ‘“Emotion work” in criminal
justice institutions’.
Bas van Stokkom deals with building emotional intelligence
into police work on the streets.
Elaine Crawley gives an interesting account of research on the
emotional dimension of
elderly men being imprisoned and of a project on prison officers
working with these men.
Part 4 is on ‘Violence, reconciliation and conflict resolution:
Dealing with collective
emotions’. Thomas Scheff writes on ‘the emotional/relational
components of blind infat-
uation and hatred, how they are generated, and how they might
be overcome’ (p. 290).
John Brewer argues that the shame–guilt–reintegration paradigm
in peacemaking after

communal violence must be completed by a number of policy
issues, so as to restore
hope in the afflicted populations.
Three chapters are grouped in the final part of the book,
‘Democracy and penal senti-
ments’. As a response to the estrangement and sentimentalism
which feed current preju-
dice and hostility in the public response to crime, Richard
Sparks re-stages Hume’s
notion of sympathy as the ground for developing ‘moral
conversation’. For John Pratt,
recent history in New Zealand illustrates that penal populism
may go up and down under
structural, social and cultural developments. Ian Loader
wonders how to keep the inevi-
table emotional dimension in crime and justice matters (and in
political life in general)
‘safe for democracy’ (p. 348). He opts for a ‘redirection model’
to recognize the ‘inescap-
able centrality of the emotions to the question of how societies
control crime and punish
offenders’ and bring them in ‘from the shadows’ and open them
‘up to the scrutiny of
public, communicative reason’ (p. 356).
Not Enough Emotion in Criminology?
The contributions deal with populism and public punitiveness,
fear of crime, shame, proce-
dural justice, interaction rituals in restorative conferences and
in peacemaking initiatives,
sympathy, democracy, revenge, emotional intelligence in police
work, emotional stress in
prison, infatuation and hate crimes, resentment, hope and
desistance, masculinity and

more. To this rather heterogeneous series of criminological
subjects, emotion is the binding
element. The volume is the result of a conference in the Onãti
Institute for the Sociology of
Law in 2008. It was meant to present emotions as an important
dimension for criminologi-
cal research. To be honest, I was somewhat surprised by the
implicit consensus throughout
the book, that ‘the study of emotions has remained largely
absent from criminology’
(Calverley and Farrall, p. 81).
It is not evident that ‘In the field of criminology there has,
unfortunately, been little
interest in the affective and expressive aspects of (violent)
crime’ (De Haan, p. 39). During
many decades, criminology, especially European criminology,
was dominated by a clinical
approach. In a lapidary manner, one could say that this trend
focused completely on lack
of emotions (of sympathy), too heavy emotions (of
aggression/frustration) or distorted
emotions (by obsession) that caused crime and the ‘passage à
l’acte’, the going into the act.
Let us take Etienne De Greeff, for example, one of the most
authoritarian criminolo-
gists of his time (Casselman, 2010). From 1951 until 1955 he
was Chair of the Scientific

Book reviews 123
Commission of the International Society of Criminology. He
chaired the School of
Criminological Sciences in Leuven from 1946 until 1961. De
Greeff’s vision made a
synthesis of psychoanalytical and phenomenological insights.
He described, for exam-
ple, how ‘le sentiment d’injustice subie’ (the feeling of injustice
suffered) may ground a
lack of sensitiveness and persistent hostility towards others. His
most original work
focused on the process that brought men from being a normal
ordinary person to the
catastrophe of the ‘passage à l’acte grave’, especially murder.
In one of his main publica-
tions, Amour et crimes d’amour (De Greeff, 1942), he follows
the process in three
phases, characterized by the increasing obsession that
continuing to live is impossible
while the other person is still alive. In the onset, the future
murderer imagines an accident
that kills his future victim. In the second phase, he gradually
realizes that he will have to
play an active role in the death of his beloved/hated person. The
process ends in a crisis
in which the murderer does not see any other possibility than to
kill his victim. The
description is an insightful account of the emotional storm that
dominates the life of men
who commit very violent acts.
Many other criminological theories feature emotions like
frustration, aggression,
desire, pride, shame, anger, (lack of) sympathy, hate, obsession,
satisfaction, attach-

ment or other as key to understanding why people engage in
criminality. Actually, it is
hard to find a criminological theory on the genesis of crime
without at least an implicit
reference to emotions. Maybe the only exception is the rational
choice perspective
(Cornish and Clarke, 1986). And still: the supposed rational
choice only applies to the
process of how to commit the offence, not to the process that
brings people to consider
committing an offence.
Not Enough Psychology
Emotion is first of all a psychological concept. It may explain
why many colleagues
whose approach to criminology departs from sociology are not
so well aware of the psy-
chological tradition of emotions in crime. Some even call it
‘micro-sociology’ (Rossner,
p. 169ff.). It would be better simply to call it psychology. That
has nothing to do with
some disciplinary imperialism, but with the belief that
recognizing the psychological
roots gives access to the patrimony of psychological theory and
research and helps to
distinguish emotions from feelings, sentiments, excitements,
arousal, intuition and other
contiguous concepts. That would enrich criminological work
with a truly interdiscipli-
nary touch.
It would also help to avoid the definition problem. While
emotion is the central con-
cept of the book, it has not been defined. Only a few chapters
vaguely set out what they

mean by emotion. But, clearly, ‘how we are feeling “inside”’
(Crawley, p. 258) is not
accurate enough. This lack of clarity is a problem. Scheff
writes: ‘The use of ordinary
words, rather than well-defined concepts, is a pressing problem
in all of social science’
(p. 278). The diversity of the literature on emotions makes clear
that there is no such
thing as ‘the’ definition of emotions. But that makes it all the
more pressing to present
one’s own view of it. More accurate definitions help to
construct more precise theory and
to do more accurate research.
Not Enough Emotion in the Study of Justice
Karstedt’s introductory chapter deals with the other component
in criminology: emotion
in the response to crime. She points to what looks like a
dilemma. While a criminal event
is mostly imbued with emotion, criminal justice tries to strip it
from its emotional dimen-
sions. Retributivist and instrumentalist theories ground a
rational, ‘reasonable’ approach.
The emotional context of the offence is not considered, but
rather the abstract ‘norm
transgression’. Repairing the suffering and losses of the victim
is not the focus of the

intervention, but rather finding a proportionate punishment.
Consequently, many justice
procedures conclude to the satisfaction of the professionals
concerned who feel that ‘jus-
tice was done’, while the direct stakeholders are left with a
feeling of injustice. There are
good reasons to ‘re-emotionalize’ criminal justice, but how can
this be done without giv-
ing way to destructive populism?
In Elias’ (2000) view of the civilization process, increasing
mutual dependency has
created growing sensitivity for fellow humans. Gradually,
instinctive pleasures that may
hurt fellow humans are repressed through emotions like shame,
embarrassment and guilt.
The infliction of painful punishment upon offenders causes
unease among the public.
That is why the infliction of punishment is gradually hidden
away, moderated and pro-
fessionalized (Garland, 1990). Because of emotions, we try to
rationalize. The emotions
caused by increasing sensitivity to others are the driving force
behind the civilization of
punishment. Pratt (1998) presents the impact of emotions in
criminal justice completely
differently. In his view, penal bureaucracies have lost their grip
on penal policy to the
benefits of public emotions penetrating penal practice. It seems
to have caused a de-
civilization of criminal punishment in recent decades. These are
the type of emotional
drivers that Karstedt and others (including myself) are afraid of.
The emotions staged by Elias (2000) on the one hand, and by
Pratt (1998) on the

other, are of different kinds. Pratt (1998) points to what I would
call ‘repudiating’ emo-
tions, focusing on the criminal act. The offence presents a threat
to our safety and com-
fort. The impulse to preserve life and comfort provokes
emotions like indignation and
anger, and a desire to keep the threat under control through
punishment and incapacita-
tion.1 In current times of global insecurity and the concomitant
obsession with risk such
emotions are more prominent. The emotions evoked by Elias
(2000), on the contrary, do
not focus on the criminal act, but on the actor. These emotions
are more ‘seeking rap-
prochement’, approaching the actor of the offence as a ‘fellow
traveller’ (Ward and
Maruna, 2007), one of us who has failed, due to circumstances.
This distinction in both types of emotions is very old. In a
brilliant essay of 1993,
Nussbaum compares the ‘hard’ retributive approach of Plato
(‘dikè’ in Greek) to the
empathetic approach proposed by Aristotle (‘epieikeia’ in
Greek) (Nussbaum, 1993).
Oedipus was a victim of dikè. He did not know that the man he
killed was his father or
that the woman that he married was his mother. Nonetheless, he
provoked the gods’ rage
and was punished for patricide and incest. ‘The God before
whom you come … knows
neither equity nor grace, but only cares for strict and simple
justice’ (Sophocles, cited in
Nussbaum, 1993: 219). ‘The world of epieikeia or equity’, on
the contrary, is a world ‘of
imperfect human efforts and of complex obstacles to doing well,
a world in which

humans sometimes deliberately do wrong, but sometimes also
get tripped up by
Book reviews 125
ignorance, passion, poverty, bad education, or circumstantial
constraints of various sort’
(Nussbaum, 1993: 219). In such a world, equity and mercy
promote a more socially
constructive response to crime. Nussbaum (1993: 248)
concludes that good judging
‘does not ignore the evidence, it does not fail to say that
injustice is injustice, evil evil,
but it is capable of “sugnômê”, and therefore of clementia’.
The value of sympathy for human relations and for the quality
of social life was
advanced by David Hume almost three centuries ago. It is
reiterated strongly by Richard
Sparks in this volume. It is ‘the basic capacity that makes a
peaceful social life possible’
(Sparks, p. 323).
The two types of emotions are also illustrated in the
conferences described by
Lawrence Sherman and Heather Strang in this volume: the
emotional desire for revenge
because of the act turns into the emotion of sympathy for the
person.

An Ethical Choice
Emotions in crime and in dealing with crime are unavoidable.
Elias’ vision of civilization
focused on repressing these emotions by rationalization and
professionalization. But it
did not extinguish them. Garland insists on the Freudian
concept that repressed desires
do not disappear completely but continue to express themselves
in hidden forms, includ-
ing fantasy and irrational behaviour. Fascination with and fear
of crime is one of these
irrational expressions: ‘In a society where instinctual
aggressions are strictly controlled
and individuals are often self-punishing, the legal punishment
of offenders offers a chan-
nel for the open expression of aggressions and sanctions a
measure of pleasure in the
suffering of others’ (Garland, 1990: 240). In Pratt’s view, it has
even led to a current loss
of civilization.
It seems to indicate that, rather than repressing emotions in
criminal justice, the option
should be to canalize them into a constructive way. It is an
ethical choice. Do we give
way to the ‘repudiating’ emotions and undergo the punitive
trend of nowadays? Or do we
opt for an active responsibility and promote emotions ‘seeking
rapprochement’? Many
contributions to this volume demonstrate, at least implicitly, an
awareness of the ethical
responsibilities of their criminological work. Ian Loader is
explicit and examines how
criminologists can play a role in curbing the current populist
punitive tendencies. He

describes three possible strategies and advances the ‘redirection
model’ for influencing
the public and criminal policies. But a redirection model needs
a direction.
What objectives might a redirection model pursue? Reinforcing
human sympathy,
also in dealing with crime, is a possibility. Respect for the one
who offended and sympa-
thy is what drove the civilization process. But the sympathy was
one-sided. It focused on
the human conditions and needs of the offender, but did not
address the suffering and the
needs of the victim.
That is what restorative justice tries to do. Despite different
views of restorative jus-
tice, it is clear that restorative justice considers the offence as a
problem for human rela-
tions and for the quality of social life, instead of focusing on
the crime as a norm
transgression, instead of opposing the offender to the interests
and needs of societal
order, and instead of pursuing only the rehabilitation of the
offender. In earlier publica-
tions, I have explained why I see ‘common self-interest’ as the
core of the

social and ethical roots of restorative justice. Sympathy is the
ground on which common
self-interest can develop (Walgrave, 2008a: 79–97). It is not
coincidental that many con-
tributions to this volume deal with restorative justice and
restorative processes. It is
where the unavoidable emotions in crime and justice can take a
positive turn for the
stakeholders, for human relations and for social life in general.
A final observation. Besides promoting the ‘rapprochement’
emotions, grounded in a
sense of common self-interest, one must also cope with the
‘repudiating’ emotions of
anger and indignation, based on fear. This fear is to be taken
seriously. Probably rightly,
many scholars relate our risk obsessed cultural climate to
capitalist globalization
(Bauman, 2000; Walgrave, 2008a). But it may partly also be a
consequence of the civili-
zation process itself. The pursuit of more humane responses to
crime may sometimes
have been confused with norm erosion (Boutellier, 2004). Norm
erosion creates a loss of
mutual trust, and thus a greater sensibility to risk and threats.
The strategy based on the redirection model, promoted by
Loader, must therefore also
acknowledge the importance of norm and norm enforcement.
But it must make clear that
the norm itself must be subjected to continuous public ‘moral
conversation’ (Sparks, this
volume) and that norm enforcement can be achieved better
through other, non-punitive
methods.

The ethical choice in responding to crime is to promote further
civilization in criminal
justice. There is no reason to believe that the civilization
process of criminal punishment,
as described originally by Elias, would have reached its finish.
After monopolizing vio-
lence in the hands of the State, after making the use of violence
more rational and more
moderate, the next step is to push aside the use of violence
itself in the response to
offending. That means giving priority to solutions based on
bottom–up deliberation,
rather than top–down imposed reactions, while keeping clear
norm enforcement.
The seeds of this option are present in the book. Several
chapters deal with (aspects
of) restorative justice, interaction rituals, procedural justice,
sympathy and dialogue.
They are imbued by the awareness of the social-ethical
implications of our work. Some
very rightly point to hope as the crucial drive in our social and
human behaviour.
Yet, if I were still active as a teaching professor, I would urge
my students to read this
book. They can learn about the broad field of criminology, they
can see how methodologi-
cal seriousness is the indispensible ground for good scientific
work if it is completed by
wise and good reflection, and they can experience how
important criminology is as a social
science for the better understanding of social life and for
reflecting on how to improve it.
Note

1. Many retributivist theorists argue that the anger and
indignation are based on a vigorous
rejection of the wrong that has been committed (Duff, 2001). It
is however, difficult to see
the opposition wrong/good as abstract moral categories.
Rejection of a wrong is less inspired
by an intrinsic attachment to the good than by a pragmatic
aversion to what we and our com-
munities see as a threat to our personal and social lives and
comfort (Walgrave, 2008a).
References
Bauman Z (2000) Social uses of law and order. In: Garland D
and Sparks R (eds) Criminology and
Social Theory. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 23–46.
Book reviews 127
Boutellier H (2004) Beschavingspretenties van straf en herstel
[The civilization pretentions of
punishment and reparation]. In: Van Stokkom B (ed.) Straf en
herstel: Ethische reflecties over
sanctiedoeleinden. Den Haag: Boom Juridische Uitgevers, pp.
25–42.
Casselman J (2010) Etienne De Greeff (1898–1961) and his
contribution to current criminology.
International Annals of Criminology 48(1/2): 109–130.

Cornish D and Clarke R (eds) (1986) The Reasonable Criminal:
Rational Choice Perspectives on
Offending. New York: Springer Verlag.
De Greeff E (1942) Amour et crimes d’amour. Bruxelles: J
Vandenplas. Republished (1973) in
Bruxelles: C Dessart.
Duff A (2001) Punishment, Communication and Community.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Elias N (2000) The Civilizing Process: Sociogenetic and
Psychogenetic Investigations. Revised
edn by Dunning E, Goudsbloem J and Mennel S. Oxford:
Blackwell Publishers.
Garland D (1990) Punishment and Modern Society. Oxford:
Clarendon.
Nussbaum M (1993) Equity and mercy. Philosophy and Public
Affairs 22(2). Reprinted in Murphy
J (ed.) (1995) Punishment and Rehabilitation. Belmont, CA:
Wadsworth, pp. 212–248.
Pratt J (1998) Towards the ‘decivilization’ of punishment?
Social and Legal Studies 7(4): 487–515.
Tyler R (1990) Why People Obey the Law. New Haven, CT:
Yale University Press.
Walgrave L (2008a) Restorative Justice, Self-Interest and
Responsible Citizenship. Cullompton:
Willan Publishing.
Walgrave L (2008b) Criminology as I see it ideally. Address
delivered by Em. Prof. Lode
Walgrave on the occasion of his receipt of the 2008 European
Criminology Award, Edinburgh,

5 September. Newsletter of the European Society of
Criminology 7(3).
Ward T and Maruna S (2007) Rehabilitation: Beyond the Risk
Paradigm. London and New York:
Routledge.
Toby Seddon, Lisa Williams and Robert Ralphs,
Tough Choices: Risk, Security and the Criminalization of Drug
Policy. Oxford University
Press: Oxford, 2012; 240 pp.: 9780199697236, £60.00 (hbk)
Reviewed by: Simon Flacks, University of Reading, UK
A political preoccupation with the links between drugs and
offending behaviour has, in
recent years, been matched by increasing academic scrutiny of
the drugs–crime nexus.
This latest work is an exploration of the logic underpinning the
‘Tough Choices’ agenda,
launched by New Labour in 2005, and embraced by the current
coalition government.
Through various criminal justice interventions including testing
on arrest and required
treatment/assessment, the aim of this policy rubric has been to
cut crime by addressing
the use of heroin and crack cocaine.
In many ways, the book can be read as a sequel to Toby
Seddon’s (2010) A History of
Drugs where he charts the development of the ‘drug problem’
according to changes in
the ways social issues are imagined and addressed. One of this
book’s key, and indeed
persuasive, arguments is that the much maligned and supposed
shift towards the govern-

ance of drug policy through the criminal justice system (the
‘criminal justice turn’),
rather than by way of public health strategies, has been
overstated. The authors argue
that, contrary to the claims of other researchers in the drugs and
crime field, public health
measures such as ‘harm reduction’ programming and criminal
justice responses to the
Criminology
DAVID P. FARRINGTON
Introduction
John Gunn has always been very concerned to carry out and
foster high-quality
research in criminology, and I cannot possibly review all his
criminological
contributions today. However, 20 years ago, he and I edited a
book on
Abnormal Offenders, Delinquency and the Criminal Justice
System (Gunn &
Farrington, 1982) that included chapters by psychologists and
psychiatrists on
the causes of crime, legal processes, the treatment of offenders,
and the criminal
justice system. John took a tremendous amount of care in

editing these chapters
and was always striving to achieve the highest possible
standards of scholarly
excellence. Indeed, he went so far as to rewrite some chapters
by Americans
where he thought the jargon was too impenetrable!
We edited two subsequent volumes in the 1980s, on Aggression
and
Dangerousness (Farrington & Gunn, 1985a) and Reactions to
Crime
(Farrington & Gunn, 1985b). Again, I was very impressed by
the amount of
care and time that John put into these volumes in trying to reach
the highest
possible standards.
We hoped that these volumes would lead to a journal on
psychology,
psychiatry, crime and the law, in order to advance research and
knowledge in
these fields, and in 1991 the first volume of Criminal Behaviour
and Mental
Health was published, edited by John Gunn, Pamela Taylor and
myself.
Happily, in 2002, we have now reached volume 12. Again, John
has put an
enormous amount of time into editing this journal, and its high
standards are a
tribute to his remarkable efforts, and indeed his remarkable
altruism.
John made a major contribution to my research in 1984–87 by
providing
inspiration and office accommodation in the Institute of
Psychiatry for my

researchers working on the age 32 follow-up of the Cambridge
Study in
Delinquent Development, and he supported this research in
numerous ways.
John has also played a full part as a member of the steering
committee directing
our current age 46–48 follow-up, along with, Jeremy Coid,
Clive Meux,
S10 Criminal Behaviour and Mental Health, 12, S10–S16 2002
© Whurr Publishers Ltd
CBMH 12_Supp(4)_crc 4/8/03 12:27 pm Page S10
Temi Moffitt, Donald West and myself. In recognition of his
great interest in
and major contribution to this prospective longitudinal survey, I
will spend the
rest of my time summarizing its major results.
The Cambridge Study in Delinquent Development
The Cambridge Study in Delinquent Development is a long-term
follow-up
study of South London males. It was begun by Donald West in
1961, and I
joined him to work on the study in 1969 and took charge of it in
1982. A main
aim of the study was to describe the development of criminal
behaviour in
urban males, and to establish how far there was continuity or
discontinuity over
time in antisocial behaviour. A second aim was to investigate
why offending

began, why it continued and why it ended, to see how far
offending could be
predicted in advance, and to establish the relative importance of
different
predictors of offending. A third aim was to study the correlates
of criminal
behaviour at different ages and the effects of life events on the
course of devel-
opment. Generally, we were not concerned to test one particular
theory, but to
test many different hypotheses concerning the causes and
correlates of
offending, and concerning different mechanisms and processes
linking risk
factors and antisocial behaviour. For summaries of the main
results, see
Farrington (1995, 2003).
Methods
The Cambridge Study has followed up 411 South London males
from age eight
to age 48. These males were originally assessed in 1961–62,
when they were in
the second forms of six state primary schools and were aged 8–
9. Hence the
most common year of birth of the males is 1953. The males are
not a sample
drawn systematically from a population, but rather the complete
population of
boys of that age in those schools at that time. The vast majority
of the boys
were living in two-parent families, had fathers in manual jobs,
and were White
and of British origin.

The study males were interviewed and assessed eight times
between age
eight and age 32, and are currently being interviewed at age 46–
48. We have
been very successful in keeping in contact with them; for
example, 95% of
those still alive were interviewed at age 18, and 94% at age 32.
We have so far
interviewed 90% at age 46–48. The assessments in schools
measured such
factors as intelligence, personality and impulsiveness, while
information was
collected in the interviews about such topics as living
circumstances,
employment histories, relationships with females, leisure
activities such as
drinking, drug use and fighting, and of course offending
behaviour.
We also interviewed their parents about once a year from when
the boys
were eight until when they were 15. The parents provided
details about such
Criminology S11
matters as family income, family composition, their
employment histories, their
child-rearing practices (including discipline and supervision)
and the boy’s
temporary or permanent separations from them. Also, the boys’
teachers

completed questionnaires when the boys were aged about eight,
10, 12 and 14.
These furnished information about such topics as their
restlessness or poor
concentration, truancy, school attainment and disruptive
behaviour in class.
We also searched the criminal records of the males, of their
biological relatives
(fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters), of their wives and
cohabitees, and of
any person who ever offended with any of our males. The latest
searches were
in 1994, when most of the males were aged 40.
Criminal careers
About one in five of the males was convicted as a juvenile
(under age 17 at the
time), while 40% were convicted up to age 40. Most convictions
were for theft,
taking vehicles, burglary, deception or violence; minor
offences, such as traffic
infractions, drunkenness or common assault, are excluded from
these figures.
The peak age of conviction was 17, while the average age of
conviction was 21.
The average criminal career began at age 19, ended at age 26,
and included 4.6
offences leading to convictions.
There was considerable continuity in offending over time.
Three-quarters of
juvenile offenders were reconvicted at 17–24, half were
reconvicted at 25–32,
and a quarter were reconvicted at 33–40. Roughly a third of
offenders

committed only one offence, another third had a criminal career
lasting less
than 10 years, and a third had a criminal career lasting more
than 10 years.
While 40% of males were convicted, only 6% of them (the
‘chronic’ offenders)
committed half of all crimes leading to conviction, and they
also committed
substantial proportions of the undetected (but self-reported)
offences.
Generally, the boys first convicted at the earliest ages (10–13)
had the longest
criminal careers and committed the most offences. Most
juvenile offences were
committed with others, but co-offending declined with age. In
most cases, the
boys committed offences with other boys of about the same age
living close by.
Offending tended to be concentrated in families. While 40% of
study males
were convicted, this was also true of 28% of their fathers, 13%
of their mothers,
43% of their brothers, 12% of their sisters, and 9% of their
wives. In the 400
families of origin, there were on average 1.5 convicted persons
out of 5.5
persons per family (or about 600 convicted persons out of 2200
searched).
While two-thirds of families contained at least one convicted
person, only 6%
of families accounted for half of all the convictions of all
family members.
The conviction careers of fathers and mothers (up to an average
age of 70)

were very different from those of the study males. Contrary to
the view that
offending is heavily concentrated in the teenage years, the
average age of
conviction was 30 for fathers and 35 for mothers. Contrary to
the view that
S12 Farrington
most people who are going to offend begin before age 20, the
average age of
onset was 27 for fathers and 33 for mothers. One-quarter of
convicted fathers
did not start offending until after age 35, and one-quarter of
convicted mothers
did not start offending until after age 42. Contrary to the view
that most
offenders ‘grow out’ of crime in their twenties, the average age
of desistance was
36 for convicted fathers and 38 for convicted mothers. One-
quarter of
convicted fathers did not stop offending until after age 45, and
one-quarter of
convicted mothers did not stop offending until after age 48.
Contrary to the
view that criminal careers are relatively short, their average
duration
(excluding one-time offenders) was 16 years for fathers and 15
years for mothers
(compared with 10 years for study males). Hence, when
complete criminal
careers are studied, officially recorded offending is far more

persistent than
previously thought.
Syndrome of deviance
Offending was only one element of a larger syndrome of
antisocial behaviour.
Most convicted males had committed crimes of dishonesty, but
they differed in
many ways from the unconvicted males. For example, at age 18
the convicted
males were more likely to have low-status jobs and unstable job
records
including periods of unemployment. They were more likely to
have taken
prohibited drugs such as cannabis or LSD, although few were
convicted of drug
offences. They tended to be heavy drinkers, heavy smokers,
heavy gamblers and
drunk drivers (driving after consuming 10 units of alcohol or
more). They were
also more likely to have convictions for minor motoring
offences and to have
been involved in road accidents.
The convicted delinquents at age 18 were more likely than
others to have
had sexual intercourse, especially beginning at an early age and
with a variety
of different girls, but they were less likely to use
contraceptives. They tended to
hang around the streets in groups of four or more males, and
they tended to get
involved in group violence or vandalism. They also tended to be
impulsive,
tattooed and expressing anti-establishment attitudes (negative to

police, school
and bosses).
At age 32, the males had generally become more conventional,
but those
who were still being convicted were still relatively deviant. The
convicted
males were more likely to be living in poor quality
accommodation rented from
the local authority, and they moved frequently. They were as
likely as others to
have married but were more likely to have divorced or separated
and assaulted
their wife or cohabitee. They were also more likely to be
separated from their
children and to have poor relationships with their parents.
At age 32, the convicted males tended to have poor employment
histories
and low-paid jobs. They were still relatively deviant in binge
drinking and in
using hard drugs (heroin and cocaine), both of which had
increased since age
Criminology S13
18. They were also relatively deviant in their involvement in
fights and in their
anti-establishment attitudes, both of which had decreased since
age 18. Hence,
there was relative stability superimposed on absolute change in
behaviour.

Childhood risk factors
Before anyone was convicted, at age 8–10, the future
delinquents differed from
the non-delinquents in many respects, and similar results were
obtained
whether offending was measured using convictions or self-
reports. The key risk
factors fell into six major categories, each of which
independently predicted
later offending: (1) disruptive child behaviour (troublesomeness
or dishonesty);
(2) criminality in the family (a convicted parent, a delinquent
sibling); (3) low
intelligence or low school attainment; (4) poor child-rearing
(poor discipline,
poor supervision or separation of a child from a parent); (5)
impulsiveness
(daring or risk-taking, restlessness or poor concentration); and
(6) economic
deprivation (low income, poor housing, large family size).
To give some idea of how far convictions might be predictable
in advance,
we developed a combined measure of vulnerability at age 8–10,
based on low
family income, large family size (five or more children), a
convicted parent,
poor child-rearing and low IQ (90 or less). Of the 63 boys with
three or more of
these adverse factors, 48 (76%) were subsequently convicted.
The unconvicted
boys were said to have few or no friends at age eight,
suggesting that social
isolation might be a protective factor against offending.

Effects of life events
We investigated the effects of numerous life events on the
course of devel-
opment of offending. In particular, going to a high delinquency-
rate school at
age 11 did not seem to amplify the risk of offending, since
badly behaved boys
tended to go to the high delinquency-rate schools. However,
getting convicted
did lead to an increase in offending, according to the boys’ self-
reports.
Unemployment also caused an increase in offending, but only
for crimes
leading to financial gain, such as theft, burglary, robbery and
fraud. There was
no effect of unemployment on other offences such as violence,
vandalism or
drug use, suggesting that the link between unemployment and
offending was
mediated by lack of money rather than boredom.
It is often believed that marriage to a good woman is one of the
most
effective treatments for male offending, and indeed we found
that getting
married led to a decrease in offending compared with staying
single. Also, later
separation from a wife led to an increase in offending compared
with staying
married. Another protective life event was moving out of
London, which led to
a decrease in offending. This was probably because of the effect
of the move in
breaking up delinquent groups.

S14 Farrington
The current follow-up
The males are now being given a social interview at about age
46–48 to assess
their current and recent self-reported offending and their current
success in
different aspects of their lives (accommodation, employment,
debts, illnesses
and injuries, relationships, children, drinking, smoking, drug
use, aggressive
behaviour and attitudes, and current personality). Questions are
also being
asked about the use of health and social services, to permit an
economic
analysis of costs to society, and about problems of the men’s
children such as
lying, stealing, truancy, disobedience, bullying and restlessness.
The men are also being given a medical interview to assess their
current
mental health and their lifetime history of psychiatric disorders.
Questions in
both interviews, together with file data, make it possible to
score each man on
the Psychopathy Checklist. At the end of the medical interview,
biological data
are collected: saliva to measure testosterone, height, weight,
waist circum-
ference, pulse rate, blood pressure and respiratory function.

Questions on
physical health and illnesses are also included, and medical
records are being
collected.
In addition, the men’s female partners are being personally
interviewed to
collect information on household income, children, her child-
rearing attitudes,
relationships with the man, family violence, her physical and
mental health,
her antisocial behaviour (including debts, offending, drinking
and drug use),
his antisocial behaviour, his personality, characteristics of the
neighbourhood,
and household victimization.
The main aims are to investigate offending in the forties,
characteristics of
late-onset offenders, and how far men who have stopped getting
convicted are
still involved in deviant behaviour. In addition, the social
interview will
establish how far former juvenile delinquents, and former
chronic offenders, are
living successful lives in their forties, in such areas as
accommodation,
employment, relationships, drinking, smoking and drug use, so
that protective
factors can be studied. The medical interview will establish the
relationship
between offending and adult mental health problems, including
antisocial
personality disorder. The partner interview will establish the
prevalence of
different types of family violence and how far it can be

predicted by risk factors
in childhood and adolescence.
Conclusion
I find it hard to believe that John Gunn has retired. He is too
young and too full
of energy to be retired! He has dominated British forensic
psychiatry like a
Colossus for so many years, and if he ever did really retire he
would be sorely
missed. I am certainly very grateful to John for all the
inspiration and help he
has given me over the years. He has always been a wonderful
role model for
Criminology S15
younger scholars, and I have learned a great deal from him. It
has been a
remarkable privilege to work with him.
References
Farrington DP (1995) The development of offending and
antisocial behaviour from childhood:
key findings from the Cambridge Study in Delinquent
Development. Journal of Child
Psychology and Psychiatry 36: 929–964.
Farrington DP (2003) Key results from the first 40 years of the
Cambridge Study in Delinquent

Development. In Thornberry T P, Krohn MD, eds. Taking Stock
of Delinquency. New York:
Kluwer/Plenum, pp. 137–183.
Farrington DP, Gunn J (eds) (1985a) Aggression and
Dangerousness. Chichester: Wiley.
Farrington DP, Gunn J (eds) (1985b) Reactions to Crime: The
Public, the Police, Courts and
Prisons. Chichester: Wiley.
Gunn J, Farrington DP (eds) (1982) Abnormal Offenders,
Delinquency, and the Criminal Justice
System. Chichester: Wiley.
Address correspondence to: Professor David Farrington,
Institute of Criminology,
University of Cambridge, 7 West Street, Cambridge CB3 9DT,
UK.
S16 Farrington

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