I’ve previously written a guide to What Are Your Rights If Cops Knock on Your Door? Although that post was tailored to New Zealand law, it was inspired by British lawyer Daniel ShenSmith. ShenSmith, who vlogs under the name Black Belt Barrister, aims to provide reliable commentary and advice on legal issues. In a recent video, he discusses at length what not to say, should you end up on the wrong side of a police interview.
Because, when the rozzers say, ‘Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law’, they mean it. Like a cunning media or job interviewer, they will use every trick up their sleeve to cajole damning words out of you. Even words you think sound innocent enough can sound very different when played back to a jury. In particular, ShenSmith cautions very strongly against three potentially dangerous little words.
Stop saying maybe. Stop saying I guess. And stop saying probably.
These hedging phrases turn an honest admission of uncertainty into something that looks evasive or, worse, like a partial confession. Police and prosecutors are trained to exploit exactly this kind of vague language. They put a suggestion to you and, when you reply with a softener, they have something on the record that can be turned against you later in court. The same tactic is sometimes used by defence lawyers trying to undermine a witness. If you do not know the answer, say so plainly. If you cannot remember, say you cannot remember. Anything else risks sounding shifty on a transcript that may one day be played to a jury.
The one thing you must never, ever forget is that a police interview is not a casual chat. It is conducted under caution. The words you say, and the words you fail to say, are recorded and can be used as evidence. You are not there to be helpful or to clear up a misunderstanding. In almost every case you are there as a suspect.
So, the first and most important step is to get legal advice before you answer a single question. Free legal advice is available at any police station, day or night. Use it.
As any journalist knows, people can be easily cajoled into saying things they might not have intended to. A classic interview technique is to leave a silence hanging when your subject finishes speaking. People don’t like silence: it feels unnatural. They will therefore unconsciously keep talking, just to fill in the awkward silence. Because they’re just saying anything that pops into their head, they will often say things they might never have if they were being more guarded.
A police interview is even more high-pressure on the subject. People talk under pressure, for all the usual reasons and more. They are frightened. They want to get it over with.
Worse, they worry that silence will make them look guilty. So, they keep babbling. When they talk, they often reach for softeners. These words do two damaging things at once.
First, they create the appearance of evasiveness. A string of qualifiers on a transcript reads as someone who is unsure or hiding something. Even if you are telling the absolute truth and simply have no recollection, the jury may never hear the nervousness in your voice. They will only see or hear the hedging.
Second, and more dangerously, hedging can accidentally manufacture a partial admission. A confession is any statement that is at least partly adverse to the person who made it. If you are asked whether you were at a certain property on a certain night and you reply “I don’t know... might have been,” you have just placed yourself there, at least on paper. That answer can now be presented as a partial admission even though you may have been doing nothing more than filling an awkward silence with a guess.
In the interview room, the stakes are far higher.
With particular relevance to the sort of thing more and more law-abiding people are likely to find themselves dragged in for a little chat for, consider a social media post you genuinely do not remember making. If asked whether you realised it might stir up racial hatred, answering ‘maybe’ is a partial confession. It suggests you accept that it was likely to have that effect. If that was not your intention, say so clearly. If you do not remember what you were thinking, say you do not remember what you were thinking. The honest answer removes the vague hedge that prosecutors can later twist into an admission.
The Safe Answer
The safe answer is the honest one. ‘I don’t know. I would have to check.’
That response admits nothing. It cannot be contradicted by later evidence, because you never claimed knowledge you did not have. It leaves no room for the prosecution to claim you accepted their version of events. Seasoned criminals are often good at this. They say ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I don’t recall’ without turning it into a confession. The same discipline protects innocent people who are simply uninformed or have no memory of the events in question.
This principle extends well beyond the police station. In an age when thousands of people a year are dragged into interviews over tweets, emails and social media posts, vague language hands authorities the tools to build cases on uncertainty rather than fact. Prosecutors love to lead witnesses through a chain of logical statements, each one easy to agree with, until the final question seals the trap. Hedging words make that chain easier to construct. They turn ‘I don’t know’ into something that looks like ‘I might be guilty of something.’
The golden rule remains simple. If you do not know, say you do not know. If you cannot remember, say you cannot remember. Those are complete and defensible answers. Everything else is just giving the other side ammunition that can be used against you in cross-examination or in front of a jury.
Precision protects the innocent. Vague qualifiers do not.
