A Blog by Professor Margaret Malloch
When injustice occurs at the hands of powerful institutions, it is rarely straightforward to have it acknowledged, let alone obtain redress. Institutional cover-ups, denials of wrongdoing, and the evasion of accountability are deeply embedded in systems that claim fairness, impartiality, and equality before the law. These legal and bureaucratic shields often protect the state from scrutiny rather than protect citizens from harm.
Two recent developments illustrate both the enduring struggle for accountability and the persistence of state resistance to it. Each represents a long-delayed response to institutional harm, delivered only through the determination of survivors, bereaved families, and their supporters. Their decades-long campaigns remind us that while justice may be slow, the rights of people in the present and future depend on the persistence of those who refuse to forget the past.
The first concerns the proposed Hillsborough Law, formally the Public Authority (Accountability) Bill, introduced to the UK Parliament on 16 September 2025—thirty-six years after the Hillsborough Disaster. The Bill aims to establish a statutory duty of candour for public bodies; guarantee non-means-tested legal aid for bereaved families at inquests; and impose criminal sanctions on officials who fail to cooperate with investigations or who deliberately mislead them.
If enacted, it would create a new legal duty on public servants to act truthfully and transparently in the face of official inquiry. Bereaved families could, at last, receive automatic legal representation to match the public resources routinely deployed by the state to defend itself.
The long road to this point began on 15 April 1989, when 97 Liverpool fans died in a fatal crush at Hillsborough Stadium during an FA Cup semi-final. The initial inquests in 1991 returned verdicts of accidental death, and for decades the victims’ families were met with smear campaigns, obfuscation, and institutional denial. It was not until 2016, thirty-one years later, that a new inquest jury ruled that those who died were unlawfully killed due to gross negligence by police and emergency services—and crucially, that fans bore no responsibility. Yet despite this definitive finding, not one public official has been convicted or disciplined.
Deaths at the hands of the state are tragedies compounded by contested truths and official silences. The case of Allan Marshall exposes this dynamic in Scotland. Aged 30, Mr Marshall died in 2015, four days after being restrained by 17 prison officers during a mental health crisis in HMP Edinburgh. The sustained public attention on his case was only possible because CCTV footage of the restraint was eventually released to the media—without which, his death might have quietly disappeared into official obscurity.
After a decade of campaigning, the family and friends of Allan Marshall have finally achieved partial recognition. On 26 September 2025, the Scottish Prison Service admitted breaching human rights law by causing his death through unlawful restraint, while the Crown Office and Police Scotland conceded their failure to carry out an adequate investigation. By granting an amnesty to the officers involved before they gave evidence, the authorities effectively ruled out criminal charges—an action later confirmed as a violation of Article 2 of the European Convention on Human Rights, the right to life.
Ten years on, the official apologies sound hollow. The Scottish Prison Service claims to have “learned lessons,” yet it spent a decade denying responsibility. Police Scotland’s chief constable, Jo Farrell, acknowledged that the investigation fell below acceptable standards—a striking understatement for what was, in essence, a systemic failure to uphold the rule of law.
These drawn-out struggles for justice drain the strength of families already burdened by grief and disbelief. They expose the extent to which accountability remains a slippery concept within state institutions, and justice an often unreachable ideal. In the Marshall case, following a fatal accident inquiry that left many questions unanswered, the Scottish Legal Aid Board initially refused to fund the family’s human rights claim. Only through the intervention of JustRight Scotland was that decision overturned, enabling legal representation and further advocacy.
Together, JustRight Scotland and the Marshall family are now calling for the introduction of a statutory duty of candour on the Scottish Prison Service, mirroring the principle underpinning the Hillsborough Law. They are also calling for legal aid to be made available to families from the moment a death in custody occurs.
That it takes decades of unrelenting campaigning to secure even the faintest glimmer of truth speaks volumes. These cases, separated by context but united by experience, reveal the deep institutional reluctance to admit wrongdoing and the extraordinary endurance required of those seeking justice. The question that remains is whether new legal duties of candour will finally pierce the armour of state secrecy, or whether they will become yet another symbolic gesture in the long history of unacknowledged harm.
