In the Commons, Churchill defended his cutting back on the imprisonment of young offenders by drawing Members' attention to the fact that 'the evil only falls on the sons of the working classes. The sons of other classes commit many of the same offences. In their boisterous and exuberant spirits in their days at Oxford and Cambridge they commit offences-for which scores of the sons of the working class are committed to prison-without any injury being inflicted on them.' There
by Martin Gilbert
(0 Reviews)

In the House of Commons, Churchill justified his decision to reduce the imprisonment of young offenders by highlighting a disparity in how crime is punished among different social classes. He pointed out that the negative consequences of crime predominantly affect the working class, while similar misbehavior by those from wealthier backgrounds often goes unpunished. He emphasized that offenses committed by privileged youth during their university years do not carry the same repercussions, showcasing an inequality in the justice system.

Churchill’s remarks draw attention to a systemic issue in society, where the enforcement of law seems to disproportionately impact the lower classes. By comparing the actions of young men from elite universities to those from working-class backgrounds, he argues for a more equitable approach to justice. His comments reflect a broader critique of social justice and highlight the need for reform in how young offenders are treated, advocating for fairness regardless of one's social standing.

Stats

Categories
Votes
0
Page views
2
Update
February 05, 2025

Rate the Quote

Add Comment & Review

User Reviews

Based on 0 reviews
5 Star
0
4 Star
0
3 Star
0
2 Star
0
1 Star
0
Add Comment & Review
We'll never share your email with anyone else.
More »

Popular quotes

Small towns are like metronomes; with the slightest flick, the beat changes.
by Mitch Albom
Look, if you say that science will eventually prove there is no God, on that I must differ. No matter how small they take it back, to a tadpole, to an atom, there is always something they can't explain, something that created it all at the end of the search. And no matter how far they try to go the other way – to extend life, play around with the genes, clone this, clone that, live to one hundred and fifty – at some point, life is over. And then what happens? When the life comes to an end? I shrugged. You see? He leaned back. He smiled. When you come to the end, that's where God begins.
by Mitch Albom
You say you should have died instead of me. But during my time on earth, people died instead of me, too. It happens every day. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your colleague falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole.
by Mitch Albom
My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?
by David Mitchell
A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.
by David Mitchell
Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.
by David Mitchell
The pollenless trees were genomed to repel bugs and birds; the stagnant air reeked of insecticide.
by David Mitchell
Travel far enough, you meet yourself.
by David Mitchell
People pontificate, "Suicide is selfishness." Career churchmen like Pater go a step further and call in a cowardly assault on the living. Oafs argue this specious line for varying reason: to evade fingers of blame, to impress one's audience with one's mental fiber, to vent anger, or just because one lacks the necessary suffering to sympathize. Cowardice is nothing to do with it - suicide takes considerable courage. Japanese have the right idea. No, what's selfish is to demand another to endure an intolerable existence, just to spare families, friends, and enemies a bit of soul-searching.
by David Mitchell
A random sequence of seemingly unrelated events.
by David Mitchell