Greater Manchester’s mayor has abandoned a contentious proposal to restrict the right to jury trials for certain offences, bowing to intense pressure from the legal profession, civil liberty groups, and his own political allies. The climbdown marks a significant victory for campaigners who argued the measure would have eroded a cornerstone of British justice.
Andy Burnham confirmed the decision on Tuesday, stating that the “experimental” framework — designed to alleviate chronic Crown Court backlogs by routing either-way offences directly to magistrates — would be withdrawn with immediate effect. The announcement came less than six weeks after the policy was first floated as part of a wider devolution deal negotiation with the Ministry of Justice.
A pilot born of crisis
The proposal originated in the depths of the post-pandemic court crisis. With the national Crown Court backlog hovering above 70,000 cases and average waiting times for trial stretching beyond two years, ministers and metro mayors alike have been scrambling for radical solutions. Greater Manchester, handed expanded justice powers under its trailblazing devolution settlement, volunteered to test a radical idea: removing the defendant’s right to elect jury trial for a defined list of either-way offences — crimes such as theft, assault occasioning actual bodily harm, and certain drug offences — where the maximum sentence in a magistrates’ court would be capped at twelve months.
The logic, set out in a consultation document published in early March, was brutal in its pragmatism. Magistrates’ courts, the paper argued, could process cases in weeks rather than years. Victims would see swifter justice. The system would save an estimated £12 million annually in the region alone.
But the reaction was instantaneous and ferocious.
The legal establishment mobilises
Within days, the Law Society, the Bar Council, and Liberty had formed a rare united front. In a joint letter to the Lord Chancellor, they warned the plan created a “two-tier justice system” where geography determined fundamental rights. The Criminal Bar Association went further, balloting members on industrial action if the pilot proceeded.
“This was never about efficiency,” said Kirsty Brimelow KC, Chair of the Bar Council, speaking to The Update Desk on Tuesday. “It was about the state deciding that some citizens are less deserving of the protection of twelve of their peers than others. Once you concede that principle, there is no logical stopping point.”
The judiciary added its weight. The Senior Presiding Judge for England and Wales wrote privately to Burnham expressing “profound constitutional concern,” while the Manchester and District Law Society organised a demonstration outside Manchester Town Hall that drew over three hundred solicitors, barristers, and law students.
Political fractures
The rebellion was not confined to the wig-and-gown brigade. Labour backbenchers in Westminster grew increasingly restive. Three Greater Manchester MPs broke the whip to sign an early day motion condemning the “authoritarian drift” of the policy. In the Lords, a cross-party amendment to the Victims and Prisoners Bill — designed to explicitly block any such pilot without primary legislation — gathered over ninety signatures in forty-eight hours.
Even within the mayor’s own office, tensions surfaced. Deputy Mayor for Policing and Crime, Kate Green, was understood to have argued privately that the reputational damage outweighed any operational gain. By last weekend, sources close to the negotiation confirmed that the Ministry of Justice had quietly signalled it would not provide the necessary legislative vehicle — a statutory instrument — to enact the change.
The climbdown
Burnham’s statement struck a conciliatory but defiant tone. “We sought to be radical because the crisis demanded it,” he said. “But I have always been clear: nothing matters more than public trust in the justice system. If the profession, the public, and parliament are not convinced, the mandate does not exist.”
He insisted the underlying problem — the “scandalous” delay facing victims and defendants alike — remained unresolved. “We will now redouble efforts on the things that work: night courts, digital case management, proper funding for legal aid. That is where the fight continues.”
The Ministry of Justice issued a brief statement welcoming the decision, noting that “the right to jury trial is a fundamental safeguard” and that the government’s focus remains on “investing in capacity and modernising processes.”
Why it Matters
The episode exposes the fragility of justice reform in an era of collapsed capacity. Burnham’s willingness to experiment was born of genuine desperation — a system where rape victims wait three years for trial and innocent defendants languish on remand is a system in name only. Yet the speed and ferocity of the pushback reveal a profound truth: the jury trial is not merely a procedural mechanism but a democratic totem. Politicians of every stripe ignore its symbolic weight at their peril. The backlog remains; the crisis deepens. But the search for a solution must now navigate a path that does not trade liberty for speed.