Rebel Justice

97. Inside Medomsley Detention Centre: Abuse, Predators, Government Ignorance & Operation Deerness with PPO Adrian Usher

• Rebel Justice - The View Magazine • Episode 97

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A detention centre meant to correct young men became a blueprint for how institutions can enable predators. We dig into Medomsley’s regime of fear, the violence that greeted boys at the gate, and the sexual abuse that flourished where power went unchecked. Guided by survivors’ testimonies and an in-depth conversation with the Prisons and Probation Ombudsman behind Operation Dearness, we explore how culture, leadership, and weak oversight combined to normalise harm and silence complaints.

Across the episode, we follow the path from scalding baths and forced humiliation to predation in the kitchens, where Neville Husband exploited access and impunity. We examine preventable deaths and missed interventions by staff, police, and social workers

The investigation’s findings lay out the full scale: thousands of victims, decades of abuse, and a system that prized order over care. More importantly, we map the reforms that can stop this cycle—proactive safeguarding that looks for abuse, child-friendly complaint systems, independent listeners, and tightly defined routes for families to raise serious concerns.

Credits

Guest: Adrian Usher

Producer: Charlotte Janes

Actors: John E Saxon, Benn Cordrey, Simon Green & David Wilson

Soundtrack: Particles (Revo Main Version) by [Coma-Media] 

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Host:

You're listening to Rebel Justice, the podcast from The View magazine. When we think about justice, we think about it as an abstract, something that happens to someone else, somewhere else. But justice and the law regulate every aspect of our interactions with each other, with organizations, and with the government. We never think about it until it impacts our lives or those of someone close. Our guests are women with lived experience of the justice system. Whether as victims or women who have committed crimes, people at the forefront of civic action who put their lives on the line to demand a better world. We ask them to share their insight into how we might repair a broken and harmful system with humanity and dignity. We also speak with people who are in the heart of the justice system, creating important change. Judges, barristers, human rights campaigners, mental health advocates, artists and healers. Medomsley Detention Centre, County Durham. A place that was meant to correct, guide, and rehabilitate young men. But for many, it became a place of fear, pain, and abuse.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

Before even going into Medomsley, the police officers who transported me warned me about the place. Told me I must call the officer, sir. As soon as the police left, I was made to stand of attention. And one of them banged my head off the wall. He grabbed me by the neck and said, Did I tell you you could sit down? That was my introduction to Medemsley. It didn't get any better.

Host:

Medemsley opened in 1961 one of many so-called senior detention centres built to house young offenders aged 17 to 21. However, Medemsee sometimes held young people who were aged under seventeen, usually because nearby junior youth detention centres were full. The youngest known person identified at Medemsee who was just fourteen years old. The regime was military in nature, short, sharp, and designed to instill discipline. Trainees were made to rise at dawn, run around the compound, and work long hours under constant supervision. On paper, strict rules existed to prevent abuse. Rule 25 stated that no officer shall use force unnecessarily, and that no officer shall deliberately act in a manner calculated to provoke an inmate. But inside Medemsley, those rules meant nothing. From the moment the trainees arrived, the regime was brutal.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

I was ordered to get in the bath. The water was scalding hot. Absolutely boiling hot. I screamed in pain and was told to immerse myself underwater. To this day I cannot have a hot bath.

Host:

Physical violence was routine. Complaints were ignored or punished. Some tried to speak up.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

I did try and tell one of the officers about what had happened, but I was told that nobody would believe me, and I was lying.

Host:

Visits were rare, and sometimes cancelled if a boy showed visible bruises. Behind the facade of order, a regime of humiliation, racism, and terror took hold.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

Although I had been in care home since the age of 11 or 12 and was used to rules and regulations set by the homes, I was not ready for the regime of Medumsley and the way it was run. The detention centre was run like a military camp, with one big exception fear. The fear of where the next punch from the officers was coming from was always with you. The mental anguish caused by this fear was always there, and it was as bad as the actual physical assaults I suffered. Silly things like not being able to talk to anyone really used to get to me. Just another form of mental torture.

Host:

But it was the sexual abuse that became the darkest stain on Madame Belee's walls. Neville husband, who joined the prison service in 1963, had been building a life around control over young people since childhood. At fourteen, he became a scout trick leader. Two years later, he was a Sunday school teacher, a role he maintained for years, alongside involvement in the Christian charity Tot H. By the time he entered the prison service, he had already demonstrated a desire to command trust, authority, and influence over children. In May of 1969, Neville Husband was posted into Medinsley as catering officer. He had sole control over the kitchen, a position that gave him access to trainees and the power to manipulate, groom, and abuse them.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

Within the first few weeks, a male who I knew to be Neville Husband befriended me. He was the head chef in the kitchens. And I suppose he was one of the first members of staff to be friendly towards me. I was I was petrified and felt that husband was my only friend in the center. Within a short space of time, husband had singled me out and made me number one in the kitchens. I thought this was a a privilege at the time, because I was treated more like a member of staff. Could have as much food as I wanted to. I worked with husband on a on a daily basis. To me, husband became my main abuser in the center. Thinking back now, I I I think he deliberately grew me so that he could sexually abuse me. On two occasions, Neville husband followed me into the toilets and into the toilet cubicle. The first time he asked me to masturbate him, I did what I was told, as he threatened that I'd go down the block if I didn't do as he asked. He used to brush past me and touch me. He said we weren't allowed to wear underwear for hygiene. He kept pawning his desk. He'd show it to me and say, I'd love to do that to you. Every time husband took me upstairs to abuse me, then after a while his gratification had more to do with the violence he inflicted upon me. He would put his hands around my throat and squeeze until I could hardly breathe. He also had a silk scarf, and he would use it to practically strangle me.

Host:

Husband's abuse was not hidden from the system. Prison staff were aware.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

The prison officer told me that I was to start work in the kitchens the next day, and that I would be Mr. Husband's new wife, and he laughed.

Host:

Trainees whispered warnings to one another. Rumors circulated. Disclosures were made, but the abuse continued unchecked.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

I told an officer what happened. He said he'd write a report. Later that day, he punched me in the stomach and told me if I said anything again, he'd do it worse. After the incident at the farm, I managed to get the courage to tell somebody about what had been happening to me. I decided to complain to a prison officer because he was the highest officer in the centre except the governor. I tried to tell him what had been happening, and I can still remember the exact words he used in response. Fuck off, you're taking a fucking piss. None of my officers would ever do that.

Host:

For some, the psychological impact was immediate and severe.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

I thought I'd never get out alive. On the third day at Medomsley, I tried to kill myself. I'd been lying in bed all night thinking about how I couldn't cope with the way the guards were treating me. I remember thinking that it would end up killing me, so I decided that I wouldn't give them the chance and I would do it myself first. The abuse had a psychological effect on me. In the morning of my third day, I took a razor blade to cut my wrists while I was at the sink.

Host:

Husband also forced other trainees to take part in the abuse.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

I remembered that was an incident one day where a new lad was pinned down on his bed by the other inmates, and husband stuck a broom handle up his bottom. Husband was in the dormitory at the time and had ordered the boys to pin him down. It was like an initiation thing. I was sitting on the top bunk and watched as three other boys pinned this lad down. Husband was telling the lads what to do.

Host:

Husband's abuse didn't just take place inside the walls of Medomsley. Husband was a key member of St. Cuthbert's Drama Group, which rehearsed at St. Cuthbert's Church Hall in Shotley Bridge. He wrote and acted in some of these plays. In the 1980s, he brought trainees from Medemsley to help serve refreshments during these performances. At least one trainee alleged that another member of this drama group sexually abused him during one of these visits. The male in question was later identified and arrested, but was not charged due to insufficient evidence. Leslie Johnston, who joined Mesonsley as a clerical officer before moving to the stores to work as a storeman, shared victims with husband. Some were abused together, and the sexual offences that Johnston committed in the company of husband were often more extreme in nature and frequently involved violence, the use of restraint, weapons, and blindfolds.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

I was thrown to the floor by a husband, who then proceeded to get a knife out which had a six-inch blade. Johnston was shouting that they were gonna murder me. Husband then took his trousers down and then forced me to perform oral sex on him as he held a knife to my front. I was in great fear for my life. It was horrible, and he was sexually excited. As this was happening, Johnston took his trousers down and started to rape me from behind.

Host:

Physical abuse was rife. Trainees were punched, kicked, and forced to perform humiliating exercises.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

He told me to strip naked and then made me do bunny ops naked down the corridor in front of the rest of the inmates. There was an officer at the top and the bottom of the corridor, and they would kick you when you got to the end, or follow you up the corridor and kick you if you stopped. I was made to go up and down the corridor until I couldn't do it anymore. It was done to humiliate me. They would even point at my genitals and and make fun of me and just to add to the humiliation. The regime in PE was really hard. I saw other inmates break their arms or legs to get out of it, and to get away from the PEI and prison officer. One would brace his arms against something and get other lads to kick his arm. I also saw lads jump off a bunk onto someone's leg to smash it. I heard it break. When someone managed to break a bone, they were taken out and and not seen again.

Host:

And many of these injuries went untreated, meaning two young men would die during their time in the center with treatment that was slow, inadequate, or even denied. David Caldwell, who was aged 18, had asthma, but his injuries were ignored and his illness mismanaged. On the 12th of January 1982, he was declared dead from respiratory failure. Ian Angus Shackleton, who was also 18, was diabetic and arrived with his insulin mismanaged, his condition deteriorated, and despite hospital visits and urgent calls to medical staff, he died on the way to the Royal Victoria Infirmary. That these deaths were treatable and preventable, that the system did nothing. The institutional failures stretched far beyond Medinsley. Complaints reached the Home Office, but their response was minimal. One father wrote to the Home Office about his son's mistreatment at Medinsley, highlighting the family's concerns and attempts to be taken seriously. But the system largely dismissed them. Probation officers, social workers, doctors, and even local clergy. Many of these witnessed the signs of abuse, and many even heard disclosures from victims, but their action was rare.

Victim (Voiced by Actor):

He asked me what had happened to me. I told him that I'd been set about by the officers in reception, then set about again by officers after having my hair cut in the mess, then again at 3 a.m. in the morning after doing bunny ops. I told him that his officers had set about me. He replied, You don't want to say things like that. We can make life easy in here or hard in here. He instructed for me to be taken away. I was marched back to the cell in the punishment block. I was left alone for quite some time.

Host:

One victim described being visited by their social worker and disclosing that he was being hit by an officer and that other trainees' bones had been broken. The response from their social worker was that he could not do anything, and the victim was told to keep his head down. This is the full scope of Medemsee. Systemic failures, unchecked violence, repeated sexual abuse, and a culture that silenced victims. The young men who went in expecting guidance were left with scars that would last them the rest of their lives. Medomsley closed in 1987 with the trauma endured for decades. After Medomsley closed in 1987, the Neville husband had long left the institution that continued to abuse young men in other placements and even post-release. Leslie Johnston, his colleague and fellow abuser, moved to Kirk Levington Young Offender Institution where he continued the pattern of abuse. In 1989, a trainee at Kirk Levington accused Johnston of sexual assault. Johnston admitted acts of indecency with trainees at both Kirk Levington and previously at Medomsley, sometimes targeting former trainees at his home when his wife was away. He was convicted of indecent assault with a fined only £250 and given a suspended prison sentence. Johnston died in 2007 before the full investigation into Medomsley could assess further allegations. Neville husband himself faced multiple investigations over decades while serving in the prison service, and later as a minister, he repeatedly sought positions of authority over vulnerable young men. Complaints to the police, the home office, and social services were repeatedly dismissed or ignored. In 2005, after a long-running investigation, her husband was convicted of three counts of buggery with a teenager and one count of indecent assault. He was sentenced to ten years in total, accounting for previous convictions. However, the judge indicated that any further cases against him would likely be discontinued, meaning many victims were denied justice. Even after his release in 2009, the husband continued to target vulnerable victims. The systemic failures at Medemsley, coupled with institutional indifference from the prison service, social workers, and the church, created an environment in which abuse could continue unchecked for decades. Families of victims often did not believe their children's accounts, and the victims themselves were frequently dismissed or threatened when they tried to speak out. The consequences of these failures were tragic not only the widespread abuse itself, but the lifelong impact on survivors who were ignored, silenced, and disbelieved. Between 2001 and 2023, more than two thousand men came forward to Durham Constabulary and their testimonies that led to multiple investigations Operation Holter, Operation Seabrook, and finally Operation Deerness conducted by the prisons and probation ombudsmen. Operation Dearness confirmed what survivors had long known that abuse at Medomsley was widespread, systematic, and allowed to flourish in plain sight. Now we speak of the police and probation ombudsman Adrian Usher, who investigated these crimes for Operation Dearness to uncover how this was allowed to happen, what could have been done, and how such abuse might be prevented in the future. Could you explain how Operation Dearness came about and what led your office to undertake this investigation?

Adrian Usher:

That's actually a lot longer answer than you might imagine. Essentially, since Medomsley closed its doors in 1987, there have been a group of victims who over time came together when they realized that they weren't the only victims. Many of the victims at the time thought that they were the sole uh subject of abuse. But they learnt over time that there were a lot of them, and they came together and started to push local government, police, and national government into some action. And this resulted almost entirely due to their persistence in some criminal inquiries that took place at the start of the century in the 2000s. Three separate criminal inquiries, which resulted in prosecutions and some men going to jail for physical and sexual abuse of detainees at Medomsley. And then I think there was a perception of all of the victims that the criminal inquiries can be quite narrowly focused. They're focused on the guilt or innocence of the individual who's in court, but that the full story of Medomsley hadn't really been told. And there were various calls for public inquiry or for certainly a wider inquiry than uh the criminal one that had taken place. And as a result of that, the Lord Chancellor, who was Alex uh York chalk, sorry, at the time, um, in 2023, uh he commissioned me to uh conduct exactly that inquiry to answer the question really of why did the abuse go on for so long without being stopped?

Host:

Thank you. So, after the beginning of the report, what was your personal reaction as you began to uncover the scale of what had happened?

Adrian Usher:

To be honest, after 35 years as a senior detective in the Met, I thought I was fairly unshockable, and that turned out not to be true. Although I had seen uh similar cases of sexual abuse in my career, I had not seen anything on the scale of what had happened at Medomsley, and it was genuinely something that caused sleepless nights when I first began to look at this. And I think uh over time that shock hasn't really diminished very much when I pause and think about what the experience of those young men were and how isolated they must have felt, how far from help, how lonely and how scared. And then it took well over 20 years in many cases for them to see any form of justice, and most of them don't believe that really full justice has been achieved.

Host:

Thank you. Then talking about the victims, how did the testimonies of survivors shape the tone and direction of the investigation?

Adrian Usher:

Well, there have been over 2,800 victims of physical or sexual abuse identified at Medomsley, and uh all of those 2,800 have received some level of compensation. Um, we were able to use uh their statements, uh, the statements from the police inquiries, uh, we examined over 7,000 documents, uh, we spoke uh afresh to uh over 70 witnesses, and we were absolutely guided in the investigation by what the victims told us had been their previous experience of investigations and also uh what they wanted to be covered now. And I think we've achieved that. The report publishing is as comprehensive an investigation of the events at Medinsley as I think really it's possible to get today.

Host:

The report itself describes a culture of systemic physical abuse that became embedded. How do you think that that culture took root and persisted over two decades?

Adrian Usher:

Well, I think it was a different time, and that doesn't excuse what happened. But attitudes to violence were shaped by people's own experiences. Many of the men who worked at Medomsley had been through national service in which uh low-level uh physical violence was a feature of training, uh, as well as pushing young men to the limits of their endurance, and we saw both of those things uh occurring at Medemsley. Sadly, in two cases, two young men died as a result of the physical limits of what they were pushed to. And so corporal punishment was a feature in schools. As I say, attitudes to violence were different then. I also think it was a complete lack of direction of the centre. The purpose of Medomsley was never really laid out. The staff filled the vacuum that occurred by just drawing on their own experiences as to what the regime should look like, and that was broadly a slightly militaristic attempt to get young men fit, to push them in in the gym, and to make their lives extremely disciplined and ordered in terms of the way they conducted themselves, they marched about the centre, the way they had to make their beds, the way they had to address staff as sir. It all felt, I think, for them, a very military approach. But as I say, that's that came out of the fact that there wasn't direction. What there was was vague language around that the regime should be robust or it should be tough or the short sharp shock, which is an expression that's been around since the ball stalls were set up and uh certainly since the 30s. And the staff were left in no doubt that the detainees were not meant to enjoy this, it was meant to be an experience that uh drove them uh to never want to return. And what that meant for most of the staff was violence. Um, most detainees talked about being greeted on as they arrived at the centre by being punched for not addressing the staff as sir on arrival, and that carried on throughout their experience, particularly in the early days. And I think one of the bits of evidence that I find really compelling is that most detainees talked about the fact that the violence was at its worst at the beginning of their state, and most of these young men were sentenced to either three or six month detention orders. And the violence tended to tail off over time, and I think that's indicative of the staff having the belief that it was working, that if you treated uh the detainees roughly at the beginning, that they did buy into the regime and that their behaviour improved, and therefore you hit them less as time went on. And of course, if they did believe that, then it just embeds that low-level violence into the fabric of the centre and perpetuates it.

Host:

What does that say about accountability and professional standards at that time?

Adrian Usher:

I think the the the governance and oversight, uh, the checks and balances that were in place for Medams Lee, and there were some, but they were all entirely ineffective. So leadership uh failures were right across the board, right up to the warden, and indeed the oversight board that was meant to keep the warden in check. The visits by those external, whether it was the regional director or whether it was the other governance and oversight that was in place, were more like social occasions with having tea with the warden rather than uh scrutinising what was going on. So that failed. The the leadership within the centre failed because the violence was so uh widespread that you know if you couldn't see it or weren't professionally curious enough to discover it, then really you weren't competent to do your job. Those young men relied entirely for every aspect of their lives and their welfare on the staff there. And the physical abuse was so, as I say, so prevalent that staff did know about it and didn't do anything about it. That doesn't mean that they all took part in it, but I think it it clearly demonstrates that there were opportunities for them to step in. And over 28 years, there were only, I think, two occasions in which members of staff raised concerns. That means that over those 28 years, staff's value system wasn't pushed beyond what they were comfortable with, and that's as I say, partly because times were different, attitudes to violence were different, but also I think it shows the attitudes to offending and offenders was very different. These were viewed as bad lads who had done something wrong and needed some discipline and robust staff behaviour, which was translated as violence, and so the leadership had every opportunity to step in. Um, and I believe that one of the key aspects of leadership is to set the standard that you expect from your staff and then be proactive about ensuring that it's met. Well, none of the wardens did that. As far as we could see, not a single warden formed any relationship with a detainee of sufficient trust that would have allowed them to tell them what was going on, both in terms of the physical violence and the horrors that were taking place in the kitchen.

Host:

Were there moments during investigation where you could see intervention that were missed, whether people inside or outside of the prison?

Adrian Usher:

Absolutely. Uh, detainees having been released, uh, some reported to the local police at Constant Police Station, uh, some told deprivation officers, some told family members, uh, who then went on to tell uh police and other bodies. And broadly, those allegations were either not recorded, or if they were recorded, they were simply handed over to Medomsley to investigate and then report back the results, and that sadly is true even of the deaths of the two young men. And so, yes, there were opportunities for it to be stopped. Had the leadership inside Medomsley behaved as leaders, it would have been stopped. If anybody had wondered about why there were jokes about what was happening in the kitchen in terms of the predatory sexual behaviour of a Neville husband, if you're joking about that, you know about it. And why have you not stepped in to do something about it? Now, husband is a particular case, he's not the only sexual predator that was there, but he was the most prolific and possibly the most prolific in our history. He was offending for 27 years in his prison service. He was offending before there were allegations uh when he worked at Portland Borschool. He moved from Portland Borschool to Medomsley, where he worked for 18 years, and the allegations uh cover all of that period. And then subsequently, when he worked at Dearbold and Franklin, there were further allegations and allegations during his charity work with the church and also with his amateur dramatic activity. Sexual offenders are normally constrained by a number of factors. One is the availability of victims, and in this case, the state was providing him with victims. Secondly, they're constrained by the fear of being caught. Well, it's apparent to the husband over time that that. Was not going to happen, and that he, in fact, for the entire time was employed by the prison service, he wasn't caught. And then the third factor is the desire and libido of the individual in question. And in husband's case, we know that there were days in which he was raping two or three young men a day. He had a voracious sexual appetite. That combination of the lack of constraints that he experienced meant that he was an absolutely prolific offender. Now he eventually did go to prison. I don't think any of the victims feel that he was, uh his sentence reflected the severity of what he had done. And he died at liberty, which is, I know, something else that the victims feel that they wish he had died in prison. His experience of being able to offend at that level for that long, that really drove us as investigators and the investigative team to be motivated to uncover absolutely everything they could to ensure that we are we can make sensible suggestions to government about how you prevent this happening again, but also you tell the true story of the victims who for so long were not believed and for so long weren't listened to.

Host:

Thank you. So many of the victims have carried this trauma for decades. From what you've heard, what has the long-term impact been on their lives and their sense of justice?

Adrian Usher:

For some of the victims, it's been absolutely catastrophic. I know of victims whose mental health has been permanently damaged to such an extent that they are agrophobic, they find it difficult to leave their flat in one case, very, very difficult to hold down a job, absolutely no ability to form relationships of either friendship or intimacy with anybody, and have spent their lives alone because of that. Now, some men have sought help, gained help, and have been able to make improvements in their lives. But for most of these victims, there are memories they cannot erase, and the consequences of that have been really tragic for those men.

Host:

So one of your key considerations asked why there isn't an independent body that proactively asks children about their custodial experiences. Why is that gap so critical to close?

Adrian Usher:

My experience of the last 40 years in public service is that in all public service delivery where there is an imbalance of power. So if you look at the police who have to an extent power over the public in some circumstances, if you look at the prison service, certainly you have power over inmates. But even in the NHS, doctors and nurses have in certain circumstances power over the public. In all of those organizations, it's very common to find sometimes really quite good plans in place for when abuse or misconduct is uncovered. What's often lacking though is proactivity. Those organizations should have always, in my belief, a proactive capability because if you go looking for this, you will find it. It exists and continues to exist, not on the scale or the longevity of what happened at Medomsley, but we see stories still in the prison service of the sexual abuse of minors or indeed of adults. We've seen it in the police, we've seen it in the NHS. So because we know it's there, you have to go looking for it. Now, somebody sitting down in the right way with the right training and speaking to young people, creating the right environment, it's not foolproof. There will be times when that young people don't feel confident enough to say anything. But it's a step, and it's a step I think the prison service should take. There are only around 400 young people in prison these days, but that often means that that 400 are the most vulnerable, the most challenging, the most in some senses difficult. Difficult to communicate with, to get through to. But there are only 400. A single member of staff, that means working 200 days a year, could speak to for half a day one person and uh try and get them to form a connection in which they might report if something is wrong in the custody experience that they're having, and they I think certainly should be asked.

Host:

Thank you. But on that, you note that the complaint process for children in custody remains largely unchanged since Medomsley's time. What are the implications of that and what do you think needs to change?

Adrian Usher:

Well, in most uh young offenders' institutions, the complaints form they fill in is exactly the same as the adults form. Now, some some young offenders' institutions have uh taken steps to improve that, but it's I don't think anywhere near where it should be. Um children are different, they have different literacy skills, they have different ways of understanding what a complaints process would be to an adult. And so you need to tailor it, it needs to be in the simplest terms, child-friendly. It's also the case that we know that young people who are abused or assaulted are most likely to tell somebody they know, uh, so a family member or somebody who cares for them. And yet it remains the case that family members can't make complaints on their behalf. Now, you can't, I think, simply say that all family members could make complaints on every subject because I think that would overwhelm possibly the prison complaint system. But I think you could describe a quite high bar of where, if a family member is made aware of certain types of abuse or offence that they can complain directly to prison as well, of course, as telling the police.

Host:

How confident are you that something like Medomsley couldn't happen again today?

Adrian Usher:

I think that look, I think uh His Majesty's inspector of prisons is in a very different place to the old governance that was in place in the 60s and 70s. My honest health belief is that I don't think it would go on for as long as it did without being uncovered. I think people's attitudes to violence have certainly changed people's attitudes to homosexuality. But also I think there has been uh there is a very different attitude today towards authority. I think the public are not as deferent as they were in the 60s and 70s, whether that's to the police or the prison service or even GPs and NHS staff. I think they are far more likely to speak up, and I I certainly hope they are. But having said all of that, and there are lots of positives, and I think the government is going to announce further measures that they plan on taking in this area. But, as I said earlier, I think you have to be ever vigilant, ever proactive, and go looking for it because sadly it will be there.

Host:

You've been listening to Rebel Justice. If you'd like to support our work and receive four digital editions and one print issue a year, subscribe to the View for just £20. Make sure to follow us on our social media. We're on Instagram at the_ view_ magazines, and you can also find us on LinkedIn, X, and TikTok. If you'd like to reach out to us directly, you can email inquiries to us at the press@theview magazine.org. Please share this story.