Why it matters when 42% of children sentenced have no recorded ethnicity

Author: | 30 Jan 2026

Official figures published this week raise fresh concerns about youngsters in prisons, the subject of Dame Rachel de Souza’s recent Longford Lecture, according to our recently graduated scholar, Will Pendray. Without accurate recording of ethnicity, he argues, inequality is harder to see, measure and contest, while claims of progress ring hollow

Newly released Youth Justice Statistics reveal that 42 per cent of children sentenced for indictable offences have no recorded ethnicity. For the second consecutive year, the ‘Unknown’ category is the single largest group in the data. Despite a long-term fall in the overall number of children in custody, the scale of missing ethnicity data is alarming, leaving the system increasingly unable to account for who it is sentencing, and on what basis. A decade ago, in 2014–15, just seven per cent of sentencing occasions involved children recorded as having an “unknown” ethnicity, falling to three per cent the following year.

The Ministry of Justice cautions that year-on-year comparisons should be treated carefully, citing the sharp rise in cases where ethnicity is recorded as unknown. But a change in presentation does not explain why ethnicity is now missing in more than four in ten cases, or why this gap has persisted for a second year running.

In the year ending March 2025, sentencing for indictable offences included approximately:

  • 3,800 cases where a child’s ethnicity was unknown, accounting for 42 per cent of the total
  • 3,800 involving White children (42 per cent)
  • 730 involving Black children (8 per cent)
  • 430 involving Mixed-ethnicity children (5 per cent)
  • 300 involving Asian children (3 per cent)

When nearly half of all children sentenced for serious offences fall into an undefined category, the justice system loses the ability to properly measure, challenge, or correct unequal outcomes. This matters in a system where minority ethnic children have long been over-represented at multiple stages of youth justice.

In that context, a reported fall in the proportion of Black children sentenced for indictable offences (from 11 to 6 per cent) cannot be confidently interpreted. With the “Unknown” category now so large, it is unclear whether this reflects real change or statistical distortion.

Remand – punishment without conviction

The concern deepens when sentencing data is viewed alongside the continued use of custodial remand. In the year ending March 2025:

  • almost two-thirds of children remanded to youth custody did not go on to receive a custodial sentence;
  • children on remand accounted for 44 per cent of the average custodial population, nearly double the proportion a decade ago;
  • children from minority ethnic backgrounds were over-represented among those remanded.

Remand is one of the most restrictive powers available to the courts. That it is being used so frequently, and so often without leading to custody, raises serious concerns about proportionality, particularly in a system where ethnicity data is increasingly incomplete. Previous reporting has shown that racialised outcomes extend beyond who enters custody. In 2022, the Guardian reported that Black defendants, including children, spent an average of 302 days on remand, compared with 177 days for White defendants; a difference of nearly 70 per cent.

Yet the latest Youth Justice Statistics do not provide a breakdown of average custodial sentence length by ethnicity. As a result, it is not currently possible to assess whether similar patterns persist for children sentenced today. The Ministry of Justice notes that, despite year-on-year decreases in the number of Black and Mixed children in custody, both groups remain overrepresented. What the data cannot show, however, is how far any apparent decline reflects genuine change, or how much is concealed by the continued reliance on an “Unknown” ethnicity category in official reporting.

‘When justice systems fail to record race consistently, inequality does not disappear’

International comparisons suggest this is not an isolated issue. In the United States, incomplete ethnicity data has been linked to under-reporting of racial profiling. In France, human rights organisations have criticised data gaps that make discrimination in policing and sentencing harder to challenge. When justice systems fail to record race consistently, inequality does not disappear, it becomes harder to see, measure and contest.

Independent experts and equality advocates have previously highlighted the need for greater clarity in how ethnicity is recorded in the criminal and youth justice systems. While the government has acknowledged the rise in “Unknown” ethnicity cases and their inclusion in recent statistics, further explanation is needed on:

  • why the proportion of cases recorded as “Unknown” has reached such a high level;
  • whether recording practices have changed;
  • and what steps are being taken to ensure ethnicity data is captured accurately and consistently.

Without answers, it remains unclear whether this reflects an administrative failure or a structural blind spot that has been allowed to persist. Accurate data is the foundation of fair justice. Without it, reforms risk being built on partial or misleading information. While the inclusion of the “Unknown” ethnicity category may reflect an attempt to acknowledge rising numbers, it does little to resolve the deeper problem. By obscuring who is being sentenced, the system weakens its own ability to confront inequality, and allows longstanding imbalances to continue without meaningful scrutiny.

Until ethnicity is consistently and transparently recorded, claims of progress in youth justice will remain impossible to verify, and impossible to trust.

WS Pendray’s poetry collection, Overgrown, is out now.  

Woman smiling at the camera, in a park

A scholar’s rocky road to a fulfilling career

Author: | 22 Jul 2025

Imogen Andrews made a big impact on the audience when she spoke from the stage at the Longford Lecture in 2013 about her love for geology, her degree subject. ‘It rocks’, she said. Later, though, she dropped out of her degree but the support she experienced as a Longford Scholar, she now writes, has contributed to where she has got to in her career, running her own successful fundraising consultancy.

Life doesn’t always follow a planned route. My university journey, made possible by a Longford Trust scholarship, was unexpectedly cut short by a family breakdown that led to homelessness. Suddenly, the academic path I was on vanished. The future I’d imagined felt distant.

However, even amidst this crisis, support arrived from unexpected corners. The immediate crisis of homelessness was addressed by a dedicated charity that stepped in decisively, providing the crucial first month’s rent that enabled me to secure a place to live. Another organisation then provided essential supplies. These were distinct acts of kindness, each playing a vital role in my ability to rebuild.

Working in a gold mine

Before the family breakdown disrupted my studies, the Longford Trust had provided me with extra help to deal with the complex maths that was part of the geology course, via Margaret, an advanced maths teacher who was one of their volunteers.  Then, through my mentor, Luke, I was offered an extraordinary opportunity: work experience with his company in Africa on a gold mine.

This experience was truly transformative. Beyond the fascinating geology, a real-world immersion in the earth’s composition, I learned invaluable lessons about different cultures and myself. It undoubtedly gave me a unique perspective and a real-world edge. My education took an unexpected turn when I discovered first-hand the impressive (and slightly alarming) defensive spray of certain local beetles – a practical lesson in organic chemistry that university hadn’t prepared me for.

But survival then took precedence when I had to leave university. I grabbed the first job available: door-to-door fundraising. It wasn’t what I expected, going house-to-house, talking to strangers. It was a challenging start. But something clicked.

Sharing the support I had received

Connecting with people about a cause, inspiring them to help, felt meaningful. It was a way to give back, channelling the support I had received into benefiting others. I found my stride, moving into other areas of fundraising. I began to excel, consistently surpassing targets and breaking fundraising records.

My connection with the Longford Trust remained a source of incredible moments, both during and after my formal studies, with the annual lectures being a consistent high point. One year, after I had spoken on stage about the scholarship’s impact, I had the truly surreal and awesome experience of Vivienne Westwood calling me magnificent. It was a lifetime highlight, a moment of pure validation from someone so iconic.

Eventually, the skills and experience I gained in fundraising led me to a new ambition. I enjoyed the energy, the challenge, the direct link between my work and positive change. The skills I was developing – communication, resilience, empathy – felt incredibly valuable.

Where life can take you

Five years on, I lead my own fundraising and consulting agency. It’s a reality I couldn’t have envisioned, underscoring how initial opportunities can shape unexpected successes. The Longford Trust’s belief in me, and the experience in Africa, remain invaluable, even though my path diverged from academia. Overcoming homelessness and family breakdown, thanks to crucial early support, revealed an unforeseen strength in fundraising, which has become both my career and a source of genuine purpose. My journey is a testament to how life’s detours can lead to surprisingly fulfilling destinations.

Why George the Poet almost moved me to tears

Author: | 29 Nov 2021

November 2021 saw the return of the Longford Lecture on prison reform. Spoken word artist George the Poet headlined as guest speaker, declaring ‘the game is rigged’ and calling for prisons to become ‘development centres’.

He began, however, with a message for the music industry. Longford scholar Kyle was in the audience….  

Hello, my name is Kyle and I am a third year scholar, currently completing a Mathematics degree. To be honest, I see myself as a numbers guy more than a crafter of words but after being moved almost to tears by George the Poet at the 19th annual Longford lecture, I wanted to take a moment to put down my take on a memorable evening. And reflect on why his words meant so much to me.

This was my first Longford lecture. Amazing.

For a start, it was refreshing to see so many people who believe in change and rehabilitation gathering in Westminster from all different walks of life, many I suspect like my mum who came with me, may have been hearing George Mpanga (the Cambridge University- educated spoken word artist and social commentator famous for the Have you heard George’s podcast) for the first time.

The 500 or so people were gathering after a two year break due to Covid-19 with a common purpose of rehabilitation, with a shared belief in second chances. As someone who spent time inside myself, knowing the event was being aired into cells nationwide sent a powerful message, ‘you may be out of sight, but you are very much in mind.’

So what did I make of George on the night?

George, as I know from following him for many years, has passionate views about what happens in our prisons, about the urgent need for reform and rehabilitation. He’d hinted at what he was going to say in an in-depth interview in the Observer newspaper but nothing prepares you for the mesmerising in-person performance (which you can watch again here).

RAP’S NOT MUSIC!’ he declared.

He’d begun with a sentence which smoothly blended into a rap and then I realised: he’s rapping, this is a poem!

The first quote which struck me was,

‘Rap is a commodity, got to be the best thing adapted by poverty.

So if so many have seen a pay-out, why aren’t the communities guaranteed a way out?’ from his 2015 poem Rap’s Not Music.

When I talked to my mum afterwards I realised she, may be like others in the audience, may have been in the dark about what George was trying to get across.

It boils down to this. Often in RAP music artists talk about their upbringing, a common reality of drugs, struggles, violence, no support. Prison and trauma are part of their everyday reality and reflect the environment they grew up in.

I agree with what George says about commodity, he articulates a worrying distortion. RAP music is from a minority, typically born of poverty ‘on the streets’ but attracts the majority. These minority issues aren’t usually addressed or spoken about.  So, it’s powerful when people voice their situation and problems through the art of music.

But homegrown RAP music is BIG business, with the biggest market share of streamed music in the United Kingdom. It’s frustrating people are listening but not understanding the symptoms of poverty.

A quick side note here. I can relate to George and his background. He went to a London boys’ grammar school where he felt out of place, travelling for more than an hour each way to a leafy suburb from his home area, a poor part of London.  I remember being the only black person in my year 7 top set maths and science class at school, I’ve always been academic. It felt odd, no-one wanted to sit next to me.

May be it was because my friends were getting into trouble, some were bullies. Or may be due to race, upbringing or behaviour. I don’t know exactly. It’s hard to describe the feeling but I knew I was different from everyone in my class.

George knows what it feels like not to fit in. We need to stop people becoming lost in system.

Let’s remember the ‘The game is rigged‘ says George…’Crime and Imprisonment are predictable.’

  • 54% of young people in prison have been in care
  • 52% of children in police custody are from British Asian or Minority Ethnic backgrounds

Can you imagine the trauma of being in care? This trauma will often lead people to commit crimes. Whilst poorer communities struggle in self destruction, music companies are making big money, profiting from poverty.

Surely, there’s a moral duty on the music industry to make a change, to reinvest and address the community problems which sell their music.

This is such a central point I wanted to be sure my Mum had understood.

He also had important things to say about education and prisons. Back to statistics, he quoted the 34% of adult prisoners who read English below the level expected of an 11-year-old. Prisons need to change from punishment centres to development centres, a vision which most of us share.

Prison should be about second chances and changing people lives, for the better, for our communities and for a positive rehabilitation, breaking the cycle and reinvesting into our futures.

There are no choices without chances.’ That’s the bottom line.

Again, we need to stop people becoming lost in the system. I was that boy, like George the Poet. who didn’t quite fit in anywhere, not in school nor in my home area. I feel more that I do now. It has taken many years for me to feel accepted – a long journey with a lot of mistakes on the way.

Since my release from prison I’ve grabbed a lifeline, one where I’m pulling myself back into society, on the right side of the law.

I will be forever thankful and remember the likes of George the Poet for his inspiring words and work.

 

You can watch a recording of George the Poet’s speech by clicking on the link here