If you ever consider the law to be an ass, then Charles Dickens is on your side.

Although the writer did not coin the phrase, he gave it prominence in Oliver Twist, published in 1838. Mr Bumble, the unhappy spouse of a domineering wife, is told in court that “…the law supposes that your wife acts under your direction”. To which Mr Bumble replies: “If the law supposes that the law is a ass – a idiot”.

He says this while “squeezing his hat emphatically in both hands”.

I wondered about doing that with my Peaky Blinders-style cap when reading about two court cases in the same copy of the Guardian.

In the first case, two Just Stop Oil protesters were jailed for more than two-and-half years each for scaling a bridge on the Dartford Crossing in October last year. Their protest forced police to close the bridge to traffic.

If you’d been stuck in those long queues, you may well appreciate the fate dealt to those who caused your delay. Marcus Decker and Morgan Trowland acted, according to an Extinction Rebellion spokesman, in the name of “urgent and fear-reaching action on the climate and ecological emergency”.

The judge in the case, possibly mistaking himself for the Home Secretary, said: “You have to be punished for the chaos you caused and to deter others from copying you.”

Shane Collery KC added of the two men that they “plainly believed you knew better than everyone else. In short, to hell with everyone else”.

And yet, in essence, what they were saying is that we’re all going to hell unless we do something to protect the environment.

A few pages further on comes this headline: “Farmer imprisoned for ‘wanton’ destruction of Herefordshire river.”

John Price was imprisoned for 12 months and ordered to pay prosecution costs of £600,000. His offence was the “wanton” destruction of what is considered to be – or was considered to be – one of the country’s most unspoiled rivers.

It’s certainly been spoiled now, after Price ripped up a mile-long stretch of the River Lugg, “wrecking the habitats of otters, kingfishers, trout and salmon”.

Using bulldozers and excavators, he dredged and “reprofiled” a stretch of the river that ran through his land. The environmental and ecological damage he caused could take decades to recover, according to the Environment Agency.

While it is foolish to compare one court case with another, it’s not half tempting sometimes.

Let’s place these two cases alongside each other…

Two environmental protesters who blocked a road are fined for two-and-half years, while a farmer who destroyed a treasured stretch of river gets 12 months.

Is the law saying that delaying commuters in the name of protecting the environment is a worse crime than actually taking a digger and ripping up a river? Is it saying that actively damaging the environment is less harmful than trying to protect it?

It’s not the first time in our history, of course, that protesters have ended up in prison after standing up for their cause.

In the years running up to the First World War One, almost 1,000 suffragettes were imprisoned. Emmeline Pankhurst went to jail three times.

Like the Just Stop Oil protesters of today, they were angry at being treated as criminals for demanding their rights. The right to vote back then – the right to protest about how we’re screwing up the environment now.

Are those Just Stop Oil protesters really “twice as bad” as that destructive farmer, at least as measured by the sentences they received?

It is could surely be argued that their sentence was severe because the present government is intolerant of protest (and many other things, being tolerant only of its own uselessness, you might say).

But there we have it: trying to protect the environment is a worse crime than grievously damaging the environment.

Incidentally, there is a petition against John Price’s sentence. Don’t think I’ll be signing that one.

 

I have a new guitar piece to learn. Yes, I still have lessons. Who knows, one day I might even be good. Whatever the case, I enjoy playing.

But what interests me here is how the placing of words can render them interesting.

The new piece is an arrangement of the folk song Black Is The Colour Of My True Love’s Hair.

Those words are so finely ordered. Had the song been entitled “My True Love’s Hair Is Black”, the phrase wouldn’t be much cop at all. Too ordinary, too mundane ­– and putting the emphasis on the person doing the adoring rather than the subject of their devotion.

By escaping that dull fate, the words resonate with a melancholic sort of love. And they are just more interesting. Now I’d better start practising.