The parlous state of Britain’s prisons is Burnham’s first test The tricky politics of releasing prisoners early Aug 13th 2026 ANDREW HARPER, a 28-year-old police constable (pc), had been married for just four weeks when he was killed in the line of duty in 2019. Attempting to prevent three teenagers from stealing a quad bike in Berkshire, he was caught by a tow-rope and dragged at ferocious speed by the perpetrators’ getaway car. The ghastly crime shocked the country and the culprits were convicted of manslaughter in 2020. Two of those men are now among 5,000 prisoners eligible for early release under the government’s latest scheme to prevent the prison system from “collapsing”. Andy Burnham, the prime minister, had said that he could not find a way to keep the killers—and all those convicted of manslaughter—
behind bars without the prison system reaching capacity. That was before 1m people signed a petition signalling their outrage. On August 11th Mr Burnham relented: he was “increasingly confident” that the notorious killers would remain imprisoned. The crisis is a test of Mr Burnham’s ability to make hard decisions. Weeks after taking power in 2024 the Labour government implemented an emergency early-release scheme as prisons were 99% full, prompting allegations that it was soft on crime. The latest scheme is even more controversial: from October 1st criminals imprisoned for less serious offences will be released after serving 33% rather than 40-50% of their sentence behind bars, while those convicted of more serious offences— including manslaughter—will be eligible for parole after serving 50% rather than 66% of their sentence. Although the early-release schemes colour public perceptions, in practice the justice system has over time become more severe. For most crimes, the share of convictions that result in immediate custodial sentences and the average length of those sentences have risen since 2010 (see chart). Meanwhile, prison capacity is no bigger now than it was in 2012.
The government has needed early-release arrangements to prevent prisons from overflowing. The Ministry of Justice expects the prison population to rise from 85,600 today—equivalent to 97% of capacity—to 96,000 by 2032. The government is spending £5bn ($6.8m) on building an additional 14,000 places by 2031, but the country is predicted to run out of cell space again next year. Britain has the highest incarceration rate in western Europe, but nearly two- thirds of the 90,000 people who were given an immediate custodial sentence last year were imprisoned for a year or less. There is plenty of evidence that prison does this group of offenders little good, instead encouraging them into a life of crime. Around two-thirds of them will reoffend. In response to PC Harper’s death, Parliament changed the law in 2022 to hand down mandatory life sentences for those who kill emergency workers while committing a crime. But “Harper’s law” cannot apply retroactively. Mr Burnham wants to explore three options to free up more prison cells to keep offenders such as PC Harper’s killers under lock and key: speed up the deportation of 10,000 foreign prisoners; release some of the 2,300 people detained indefinitely; and empty some women’s prisons and repurpose them for men. All these schemes will be fraught with difficulty. Yet Mr Burnham is clearly desperate to keep the public onside.■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/britain/2026/08/13/the-parlous-state-of-britains-prisons- is-burnhams-first-test
How to fix Scotland’s drugs disaster Efforts to get Scots off drugs need to be stepped up Aug 13th 2026 FOR FOUR days David Rowat lay dying in his flat in East Kilbride. “Every rock bottom is a trap door,” says the former heroin addict. “You need to be in the darkest, lowest place to want change.” When his daughter discovered him in 2021, only a few hours of oxygen remained in his blood. Five years ago Scotland sought to end its reputation as the drug-death capital of Europe (see chart). Yet after spending an extra £250m ($336m), it wears that crown for the seventh year in a row. And although its 1,017 drug-misuse deaths in 2024 was the lowest tally since 2017, last year the number rose again, by about 8%.
Some critics think Scotland puts too much weight on “harm reduction”— managing rather than curing addicts. “We have built a system that is very good at keeping people alive inside addiction, but not nearly good enough at helping them leave it,” argues Annemarie Ward of Faces & Voices of Recovery UK, a charity. But harm reduction remains essential. Police carry naloxone to prevent overdoses in the street. Last year Glasgow opened Britain’s first drug-consumption room (DCR) for a three-year pilot: addicts can take drugs under medical supervision. It has prevented about 200 overdose deaths. Patients can also get blood tests, hot showers and referrals to health and other services. Around 200 such sites exist worldwide; Edinburgh has plans to build some. Steve Rolles, a drug-policy analyst, says that Scotland needs dozens of DCRs, and cheaper mobile ones too. “It’s a false economy to think you’re saving money by not investing in it today.” Roughly 44,000 Scots have an opioid dependence. Glasgow, where the death rate is highest, has just 23 publicly funded beds for rehab. Burnt-out staff prioritise emergency cases and short-term targets. Relapse is common. Ross McKenzie, a small-business owner, had to go to Italy to get clean. Four years of free recovery in a rural commune rid him of
a heroin addiction, whereas brief stints at a pricey detox centre in Aberdeen left him to relapse twice. “It got the drugs out of my system,” he says, “but the time was nowhere near enough to actually start healing.” Part of the solution is giving Scots alternatives to pills and needles. Schools have started to invest in leisure facilities. Poverty makes the job harder: the poorest Scots are much more likely to die of substance abuse. And drugs have become easier to acquire. You no longer have to wait on a street corner, confides one ex-addict, for a dealer to appear. Users of social media can order chemical highs to their door. Chemicals are deadlier, too. Scots are mixing cocktails of different drugs. The rise of drugs laced with nitazenes is alarming. The synthetic opioids, up to 500 times more potent than fentanyl, have been detected in benzodiazepine pills (“benzos”) which sell for as little as 50 pence each. Last year police discovered Britain’s first nitazene lab in west Scotland. So what else might help? “I’ve never seen anything that works like a recovery café,” says Mr Rowat, who now volunteers at one in Glasgow. He has been clean for three years and is looking for paid work. Regular meetings with recovered addicts, and a strict programme of abstinence, helped restore his hope and health. Every week thousands of Scots visit such centres. But more need to, and funding for long-term care is limited. Drug harm costs Scotland around £6bn a year. Investing in the infrastructure for addicts to get clean would be economical as well as compassionate. ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/britain/2026/08/13/how-to-fix-scotlands-drugs-disaster
A ban on an ancient hunt exposes a divide in Scottish nationalism The controversy over the Hebridean tradition of killing gannet chicks Aug 13th 2026 Almost every summer since 1549, a group of men from the Isle of Lewis has sailed to an uninhabited islet in the North Atlantic to hunt baby birds. The gugas (Gaelic for gannet chicks) were slain with a club before being gutted, salted and preserved in brine to be eaten year-round as a local delicacy. Yet this year's hunt won’t go ahead. The Scottish National Party’s natural- heritage body refused to grant it permission. NatureScot cited a study showing that the hunt could dramatically harm the islet’s population of gannets. Opponents, including the local Labour MP, say the outcome was “reverse engineered” to appease animal-rights activists.
The move exposes a divide within Scottish nationalism. It wants to protect cultural heritage from the British state, but it also seeks to dismantle bits— like the guga hunt—that are out of touch with its progressive sensibility. This tension is not new. In January 2025 the country’s exam board removed Robert Burns as a stand-alone author for students in their penultimate year of secondary education to make way for more “diverse works”. Later that year the SNP drove through legislation that could force historic Scottish families to split up their great estates to water down highly concentrated land ownership. Scotland’s nationalist movement has never been organised solely around culture (in the way that those in Wales and Catalonia coalesce around protecting native tongues). It has a leftist edge—in defiance of England’s perceived conservatism. And its leftists have no desire to defend the murder of baby birds, even if it’s a treasured tradition. ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/britain/2026/08/12/a-ban-on-an-ancient-hunt-exposes-a- divide-in-scottish-nationalism
Britain has more cheeses than France. The whey ahead may be harder Greater freedom to innovate has helped bring about an artisan revival Aug 13th 2026 THE BLUE-MOULD crisis struck the Nettlebed Creamery days before Christmas in 2019. When Diane Honey came into the storeroom, the peachy rinds of the Highmoor cheeses were speckled with grey. Penicillium commune was greedily consuming the whole production at the busiest time of year. Though harmless to eat, they could no longer be sold. “It wasn’t aesthetically pleasing,” says Ms Honey. The cheeses went to a food bank. Such are the trials of the artisans bringing British cheesemaking back from the brink. “We don’t have an institute of cheese, as in France, to learn our craft,” says Rose Grimond, the Nettlebed Creamery’s founder (who once