I RECENTLY fell heir to Kenneth Roy’s Scenes From A Small Country, a slim selection of some of the author’s journalism, first published in 1994. His observations and insights will resonate with those who were around at the time. I’m unsure however, whether to be comforted or dismayed that, nearly 25 years later, many of the scenes are still recognisable in present day Scotland.

That’s particularly true of the short piece headed “Back Street Justice”, first published in October 1990. It records a morning in Glasgow’s District Court No 1. The shabby nature of the surroundings, proceedings and participants led Mr Roy to conclude they “revealed more about poverty, needlessly overcrowded prisons and inadequacy of the social services than about the nature of petty crime”.

That scene will be familiar to anyone who has had cause to attend any of Scotland’s sheriff courts. The surroundings are still shabby, proceedings still subject to unexplained delays and most of those who appear before the courts still teeter on the very edge of society. Above all, the court experience confirms that the justice handed out still depends on who you are.

That’s a lesson learned long before adulthood and sheriff court appearances. As a headteacher I was aware a socially adept youngster is more likely to get away with unacceptable behaviour. Hanging his or her head and saying, “I’m really sorry”, usually leads to a quick return to class. On the other hand, the less articulate youngster who tells you to “F- off” will be looking for a new school equally quickly.

Misbehaving pupils represented by articulate parents are treated differently. I recall a parental interview beginning with the relevant legislation being tossed on to my desk and then told, “before we start, you should know I am a litigation lawyer”. Was I intimidated? Probably.

The lessons learned in schools are reinforced in the sheriff court. Daily proceedings are a procession of the feckless. They are there because they are more likely to be caught and prosecuted. On the scale of things, their misdemeanours are relatively minor. The single parent who diddles the Department of Work and Pensions will almost certainly end up in court and quite possibly in jail. The wealthy and influential are much less likely to face a court of any sort.

Former Prime Minister Gordon Brown has belatedly come to the conclusion that the bankers implicated in the 2008 financial crash should have been prosecuted and if found guilty, imprisoned. Aye, right. Cost the country a few hundred pounds in falsely claimed benefits and you face prison. Cost the country hundreds of millions and you might lose your knighthood, but you’ll keep your liberty.

If by some mischance, a “celebrity” ends up facing charges and a court appearance, all is not lost. Position and money sorts things out. Solicitor Nick Freeman for example, has built a reputation for exploiting loopholes to clear the rich and influential, including Sir Alex Ferguson, David Beckham and Jimmy Carr of motoring offences.

Engaging someone of Mr Freeman’s standing is not an option for most of those appearing at a sheriff court near you. Their legal representatives typically exude a sense of near-terminal boredom. In 1990 Kenneth Roy wrote of, “Black gowned lawyers mumbling scarcely audibly into blue cardboard folders”. Not much change there then.

Occasional observers of court life are sometimes surprised by the apparent rapport, verging on bonhomie, that exists between defence solicitors and those responsible for prosecuting their clients. That rapport underlines the cosy relationships within the legal profession. To the outsider it suggests an exclusive club, intent on maintaining its status and privileges.

Not before time, the Scottish Government is at least considering reform, setting the interests of justice above those of the legal profession. The legal aid system and the profession’s system of self-regulation are to be reviewed. Already, doubts have been expressed about the likely outcomes. The legal establishment is seriously over-represented on the review bodies and the time scale is ridiculously long. After all, the wheels of justice need to grind slowly and exceedingly expensively.

True to form, the profession is unhappy that its practices are to be even mildly examined. Its shop stewards, the Law Society of Scotland, questions the need for change. Much as Scotland’s judges believe they are somehow different from other holders of public office and should not be expected to declare their financial interests.

It remains to be seen whether the reviews make a difference and the Government is serious in its challenge to vested interest. Nevertheless, there is an opportunity to demonstrate commitment to an open and affordable legal system that is fair to everyone. Otherwise, Kenneth Roy’s grim portrayal of justice as dispensed in Glasgow’s District Court No. 1 will remain uncomfortably familiar.