Graham Ogilvy

And ‘Scotland loves local’ – we know this because the Scottish government told us so last weekend with the little-noticed launch of a £1 million fund of that name to boost the fortunes of our decrepit and crumbling high streets. 

Something urgent and major certainly needs to be done to restore the fortunes of our town centres but it will take more than this sticking plaster. 

And does Scotland, or more precisely its government, really love local? A walk down Arbroath High Street may suggest otherwise. This main shopping thoroughfare that snakes down to the harbour in the shadow of the Abbey with its admirable museum – a shrine to Scotland’s sovereign ambitions – is a scene of depressing dereliction bordering on desolation and typical of too many Scottish towns.

The Scottish legal system makes its own contribution to Arbroath’s walk of shame. At the bottom of the High St, the ‘fit o’ the toon’ as the locals have it, the boarded-up and abandoned bulk of Arbroath Sheriff Court looms as the crowning glory on a vista of neglect.

This was once the domain of Sheriff Norrie Stein. A somewhat patrician figure, he was nonetheless immensely respected for his concern for the local community in which he was embedded and well-known. His work to set up a centre for youngsters to combat drug abuse is still fondly recalled in these parts. Sheriff Stein was what was known in the old days as ‘a pillar of the community’, in a time when we respected communities and their pillars.

Oh yes, we still pay lip service to community in the legal world and nobody doubts the valuable contribution of Community Justice Scotland which has recently highlighted how community payback orders reduce recidivism much more effectively than short-term jail sentences. The emphasis on community in these titles suggests that we know the importance of strong communities, and heaven knows, the pandemic has illustrated how much we need them. But are we prepared to invest in community justice?

The folk in Arbroath who now take a 40-minute bus ride to Forfar to appear before a sheriff unknown to them probably think it’s a case of smokies and mirrors.  The remaining, depleted band of high street lawyers who face rising costs and endless legal aid cuts and restrictions certainly think so.

People in Arbroath, Rothesay, Kirkcudbright, Dornoch, Cupar, Dingwall, Stonehaven, Haddington and the other communities which lost their courts can be forgiven for feeling that justice has become remote and perhaps research in the future will present a clearer picture of the impact of these sheriff court closures.

The danger now is that justice may become even more distant. Remote hearings and procedures have proved a welcome boon during the pandemic but Roddy Dunlop QC, the Dean of the Faculty of Advocates, is right to caution against accepting these measures as a permanent fait accompli without full consultation and consideration.