Jayne Dowle: Let’s get real about children who grow up fast

And in 2009, when the terrible case of two boys being tortured and almost killed in Edlington came to court, if the age of criminal responsibility had been higher, the brothers found guilty might never have been tried. They were only 10 and 11 when it took place. It is a basic principle of civilised society to have the means to punish those who have done wrong.

But the argument for raising the age rests on the premise that England and Wales has one of the lowest thresholds in the Western world – in Germany and Italy it is 14, in France it is 13. Scotland recently changed the age at which a child can be tried in court from eight to 12. So, compared to everyone else, we appear heartless and out-of-touch.

The argument in favour is also based on fairly new scientific research which suggests that until the age of 13 or 14, children’s brains are not mature enough to recognise their behaviour as criminal. They are also more likely to be persuaded into making a false confession.

When a young person has to be 13 to join Facebook, 16 to join the Armed Forces and 18 to buy a drink in a pub, you can see how being branded a criminal at the age of just 10 sticks out as an anomaly. And that’s why charities, eminent lawyers, psychologists and children’s commissioners have all joined forces to campaign for the age of criminal responsibility to be higher.

Cruel as it sounds, I think we have to get real with this one. I don’t believe for a minute that any of us would like to live in a country where 10-year-olds are routinely imprisoned for minor misdemeanours. But imagine how it must feel to live on an estate where gangs of feral kids regularly make your life a misery? And believe me, I know that these kinds of stories are not made up by a scare-mongering media. Abuse, taunting, graffiti, persistent damage to property; it’s not the 17-year-olds doing this to frail and vulnerable residents, it’s the kids still at primary school who come out in their feral gangs every night and wreak havoc. You are not telling me that they don’t know when they are breaking the law.

And these kids might not know their times-tables, but they know their rights. And therefore, you might argue, they know the difference between right and wrong.

I recently got talking to a community youth worker who was painstakingly removing graffiti from the swings in the park. He told me that it is the kids of eight or nine who cause the most damage with their cans of spray paint. And when he attempts to reprimand them, they come right back at him with: “You can’t touch me, I’m only eight.”

When those concerned campaigners start talking about involving the family in “supporting” children who do such things and worse instead of prosecuting them, you can only ask where the family were in the first place? Not watching their offspring and giving them the guidance they need, that’s for sure. When society finds itself dealing with such a vacuum of moral authority, the law has to be tough.

And, it makes you wonder, in a world where children are growing up faster than ever, how we can justify keeping them as “legal” children for longer. I am no prude with my two, but even I am shocked at some of the things their friends tell me they have seen or done. One nine-year-old came round the other evening and engaged me in a very grown-up conversation about films. Turns out he had especially enjoyed The Inbetweeners, which charts the graphic sexual exploits of a bunch of teenagers on holiday.

As a parent, I can’t really see the logic in raising the age. And I’ve got a son who turns 10 this year. But what I can see the logic in is addressing each case individually, and investing the time, energy and legal intelligence spent debating the difference between 10 and 12 into finding effective ways to deal with those children who do commit serious misdemeanours.

Because at whatever age they are found guilty, it is clear the judicial system has yet to find an effective way to rehabilitate all those youngsters who lose their way. It is believed that three quarters of young people given custodial sentences re-offend within a year of being released. There have to be some serious reasons for this, and it is far more complex and challenging to tackle these than to adjust the age of criminal responsibility and assume the job is done.