"This screams High Court" — Magistrate

A strategic win in Carlisle, with significant repercussions, even if relief not granted

Seventeen people. That’s how many attended yesterday’s Section 142 hearing. Quite possibly the most well-attended in British legal history. These applications are rare, a few thousand a year at most, and almost never about constitutional issues.

The immediate result was that my application was denied. Yet in the wider frame, it was a clear success. The judge recognised that:

• the issues merit High Court adjudication,

• I had exhausted all remedies (so was not “jumping the gun”), and

• my submissions were notably clear.

That is as much endorsement as one could reasonably hope for from the bench.

Atmosphere and access

The waiting area was crowded and noisy, with the usher at one point asking us to keep it down. Only ten observers were permitted in, despite empty seats and many having travelled far. That restriction contradicts the spirit of open justice. At a minimum, courts should provide an audio feed into an overflow room.

Unlike previous hearings, we were not left waiting for hours. This was progress.

A different kind of judge

This time I faced an older deputy district judge, avuncular in tone, with presence but not hostility. He had read my submissions over lunch and treated them with respect rather than dismissal. He asked if I wished to speak, and allowed me to do so uninterrupted.

I explained that Section 142 can be read broadly or narrowly, but either way it did not fit my jurisdictional challenge. You cannot “plead a void inside a void.” His own reading aligned with mine in outcome, though for different reasons. The mutual recognition was palpable: I was not there to denounce, but to uphold the law.

The unsaid speaks loudest

The CPS representative sat in silence. They know that anything uttered could later be adverse evidence. The prosecution has been boxed into an impossible corner: forced to sustain a baseless motoring case against someone relentlessly auditing procedural fraud.

I outlined my three grounds (Article 6 breach, abuse of process, and defective notice), but the key moment was reading aloud from the court’s own leaflet on the rule of law:

“It even means decisions made by the state can be challenged by individuals or organisations, if they were made unlawfully.”

My point: lawful challenges cannot simply be ignored.

“This screams High Court”

When delivering his order, Judge Lowe held up his Archbold reference and explained that Section 142 only covers “limited correction.” My issue lay outside that scope. In plain terms: small mistakes can be fixed locally, but systemic collapse must be escalated.

His telling phrase was, “This screams High Court.” Code, in effect, for “I agree this is serious, but lack the power to resolve it here.” He ruled against me, but did so with courtesy and respect.

The gallery applauded at the end — the first time I’ve witnessed that in a magistrates’ court. A friend remarked: “It is for both of you.”

Mop-up and missing orders

I pressed for clarification on appeals, enforcement, and paperwork. Astonishingly, I was handed an order I had been requesting for nearly three months. Even then, it bore the name of a “ghost court,” rendering it in my view a nullity.

Judge Lowe openly gave his name, a gesture of accountability. My impression is that older judges sense the rot and welcome someone prepared to confront it, even if they cannot say so directly.

Toward the High Court

This hearing sets the stage perfectly for escalation. I am not tilting at windmills; I am following the lower court’s own direction. The High Court must now determine whether HMCTS policy on court naming complies with the black-letter law.

This is not about me, nor about Carlisle Magistrates’ Court. It is about whether Britain still operates under law or whether clerks’ IT codes can substitute for jurisdiction. There is no middle ground.

Closing reflections

The stress has taken a heavy toll on my health. Six months of fighting child abduction in America, followed by six months of jurisdictional fraud here, has pushed me to my limits. Yet yesterday felt like a turning point.

This is no longer state oppression of a dissident, but a transition into ordinary public law, albeit on profound constitutional terrain. The task is repair, not revenge.

Yesterday proved that insiders — judges, clerks, even security staff — are beginning to see the cracks. And once seen, they cannot be unseen.

A soon as I post this article I am going out for a nice walk; I need a break.