Some 91 prisoners have been freed by mistake between April and October of this year, according to government figures released last week. Normally I’d be joining in the full-throated chorus of exasperation, as I do with the fresh clown shows that Labour thoughtfully provide every couple of days. But I’m a bit quieter about this particular debacle, because I have some of that highly valued contemporary quality – lived experience – in this matter. You see, in my duties as a lowly clerk at the Court of Appeal in London, I once accidentally released someone from prison. 

This was 37 years ago, to be fair to myself, and the offender in question was serving a very short sentence. But it’s the kind of thing you don’t – indeed can’t – forget. My flub, committed at about the time when ‘Theme From S’Express’ was number 1, and people thought Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor was settling down, retains its emotional kick. The moment of my what-have-I-done realisation is one of those sensory impressions that burns into a person – a prickling across the back of the neck, a plummeting down a lift-shaft, legs turning to jelly etc. I can still hear the gasps of my co-workers as it hit them a few seconds later. Just recalling it for this piece has given me nightmares.

Let me explain some of the background. I’ve no idea if the process is........

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