‘Reachable moments’ are rare and short-lived – a slow, procedural system can miss them entirely – Karyn McCluskey
Over many years working in justice, one question has stayed with me: what else could this look like? It’s a simple prompt, forcing us to step outside habit and ask whether the systems we rely on actually work for the people moving through them, or whether they simply function because they always have.
Most people who encounter the justice system don’t arrive with a single, isolated problem. They bring a whole range of challenges.
Traditional justice responses matter, but on their own they rarely address every piece of this complicated jigsaw puzzle.
Sometimes that means small, practical changes. Sending text reminders for court appearances can increase attendance. People living chaotic lives rarely have diaries, calendars, or stable routines. A simple reminder can prevent warrants being issued, reduce delays, and keep people engaged.
Other changes are harder. They require us to act earlier and more decisively. For several years, government and prisons have operated a prison-to-rehab scheme that supports people leaving custody to enter residential rehabilitation. It’s valuable work but happens late in the process – long after harm has been done and significant public money spent.
Early contact with the justice system can be a different moment. I’ve spoken to many people in police custody who, after a night in the cells and sober, experience a sudden clarity about what they have done. It’s the head in the hands, the fear, regret, and sometimes a genuine openness to change. These ‘reachable moments’ are rare and short-lived – a slow, procedural system can miss them entirely.
Last year, supported by colleagues in drug policy, we began exploring how to intervene much earlier, at the point where someone first enters the justice system. The aim was to offer rapid access to a rehabilitation assessment before cycles of crisis, offending and custody become entrenched. I particularly wanted to focus on parents with children – to prevent children entering care and lives being changed forever.
We developed a structured route into residential rehabilitation, not after months of delay, but when motivation is present. Justice social workers play a critical role, identifying people whose offending is driven by addiction and who express a desire, however tentative, for abstinent recovery.
Motivation is fragile, so timing matters.
It’s a sad irony that Scotland’s rehabs are world-class; they had to be, because our drug crisis has cut so deeply. It’s testament to them that, working together with recovery professionals and justice workers, we’ve learned how to fix things whilst they’re moving: overcoming barriers quickly and working out what works and what doesn’t. When it comes to evaluating this work, I know we will look at stats and numbers, but I’ve heard stories of extraordinary change and success.
This is not a free pass. People still appear in court and are held accountable for the harm they have caused. The harder question is not whether this model works. It’s whether we are willing to let the justice system look different when the evidence tells us it should.