A week on from his death, scrutiny is turning to the courts’ decision-making and whether the police tried hard enough to bring him in, writes Catherine McGregor in today’s extract from The Bulletin.
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What the police still need to tell us
Police minister Mark Mitchell called Tom Phillips “a monster”. If so, why was he allowed to remain alone with his children for years? In Stuff, Lloyd Burr asks whether police made a de facto decision that the children were safe, “despite him not having custody, despite concerns from the children’s mother and family, despite him being charged for wasting police time, and despite him failing to appear in court”.
In the Sunday Star-Times (paywalled), Andrea Vance widens the frame to question the culture and accountability of the police, pointing to a raft of recent controversies and “missteps” involving everyone from top brass to rank and file officers. As for Phillips, “questions linger about whether they were too cautious or unwilling to commit the resources and why they lacked strong community networks that might have transformed a prolonged crisis into something less awful”. Both writers pose hard questions about why technology and specialist capability weren’t used earlier and whether police commanders were overly risk-averse – but both also acknowledge there may be good answers the public simply hasn’t heard yet.
Family Court decision-making in the frame
Kirsty Johnston’s thought-provoking reporting for RNZ spotlights the decisions that let Phillips abduct his children – twice. The central question is one posed by University of Auckland law professor Carrie Leonetti: “Why did he continue to have unfettered access to children he had already abducted once before?” She says the family’s public statements about Phillips’ conduct raise important questions about what the Family Court was told before the first disappearance and about the safeguards, if any, imposed afterwards.
Women’s Refuge chief executive Ang Jury says the early police stance seemed rooted in an outdated belief that custody disputes are a “private family matter” – even when behaviour is clearly criminal or violent. Johnston notes how limited transparency around Family Court files, alongside the court’s duty to protect the children’s welfare, mean crucial evidence is likely to remain out of public view. That secrecy may be legally necessary, but it also makes it harder to scrutinise whether the risk Phillips posed to his children was properly appreciated by the court.
Injunction struggles to hold the line amid online gossip
Media are prevented from revealing certain information until this Thursday after an extension was made to last week’s High Court injunction. In the Herald on Sunday (paywalled), Heather du Plessis-Allan calls the injunction “pointless”, arguing that in the age of social media leaks, anyone can find the suppressed information – or at least speculation about what it might be. In the SST (paywalled), Nikki Macdonald explains that the courts take suppression and injunctions seriously, citing the Grace Millane case as evidence that the law still holds firm in protecting fair trials and vulnerable people who are caught up in criminal cases.
But du Plessis-Allan also claims an “even stronger moral argument” for releasing the information in order to dispel the Phillips folk-hero myth. “To some – probably not for much longer – he’s become a Ned Kelly-like figure. A good dad trying to escape the injustice of the law. He is not.” Keeping the information secret protects the reputation of a man undeserving of such grace, she says.
The documentary backlash
Revelations that a documentary team has special access to police have sparked anger from the family and unease among other media. The case’s rawness and the children’s vulnerability make the ethics of the project intensely sensitive. Yet The Press’s Martin van Beynen – the journalist behind the David Bain podcast Black Hands – says asking whether a documentary is “necessary” misses the point. While the filmmakers need to stay within the limits of the law and avoid retraumatising the children, “there is a public good in promoting understanding and having questions about such an event answered accurately and comprehensively.”
Even more importantly, he writes, it’s a matter of principle: “In a country with free speech and media freedom, the question should be: Is there a particularly good reason why this documentary should not be made? And the question is largely rhetorical.”
