The UK’s Two-Tier Justice System: A Closer Look at Teesside Crown Court’s Disproportionate Sentences
- teessidetoday
- Mar 26
- 5 min read
A Teesside man said to have been involved in last years Civil Unrest has been handed a 20 month prison sentence, but questions are beginning to surface over whether the Judge involved in the case had vested interest...
26th March 2025
The UK justice system has long been touted as a bastion of fairness, but beneath the surface lies a troubling reality: a two-tier system where it seems the severity of punishment often seems to depend more on who you are—or what you represent—rather than the actual crime itself.
A recent case at Teesside Crown Court, where Karl Croaker was sentenced to 20 months in prison for his role in the Middlesbrough riots, throws this disparity into sharp reality. When you peel back the layers of this ruling and examine the judge’s history, questions of proportionality and potential judicial bias come crashing to the forefront, casting a dark shadow over the state of the Justice system on Teesside.
Karl Croaker’s Case: A Hammer for a Flyswatter Offense?
On August 4, the 32-year-old found himself caught up in the chaos of the Middlesbrough riots—a messy outburst of public unrest sparked, we’re told, by “disinformation” on social media.
According to court proceedings, Croaker shouted at police, made some crude gestures, and gave an officer a shove. Hardly the stuff of a criminal mastermind. Yet, after spending seven months on remand, he’s now been slapped with a 20-month sentence for violent disorder. That’s over a year and a half behind bars for what amounts to a heated outburst in a crowd of angry locals....
Now, compare that to other cases winding through the UK courts. Drug dealers caught with kilos of cocaine often walk away with suspended sentences or lighter terms. Repeat offenders—burglars, thieves, even those wielding knives—frequently get a slap on the wrist and a chance to “rehabilitate.” Yet Croaker, a man with no apparent history of serious violence, gets locked up for nearly two years because he yelled at police during a riot. The message is therefore clear: step out of line during a public disturbance, and the system will come down on you like a ton of bricks.
But why does this feel so disproportionate?
The Two-Tier Justice Conundrum
This case shines a spotlight on what many are calling the UK’s two-tier justice system. On one hand, we have the swift, heavy-handed punishment of rioters—often working-class individuals caught in moments of frustration or mob mentality. On the other, we see leniency for crimes that arguably cause far greater societal harm: organised drug trafficking, corporate fraud, or even sexual offenses that sometimes result in sentences much lighter than Croaker’s. The riots, messy and disruptive as they were, stemmed from a volatile mix of public anger and left wing extremism—yet the response feels less like justice and more like a show of force to deter future dissent.
The numbers back this up. In the wake of the 2024 riots across the UK, courts have been dishing out sentences at breakneck speed, with terms often exceeding what you’d expect for comparable offenses in quieter times. Meanwhile, the Crown Prosecution Service struggles to keep up with a backlog of cases—some involving far more dangerous individuals—that languish for years. It’s hard not to see the pattern: when the state’s authority is directly & publicly challenged, the gavel falls harder.
Judge Geoffrey Marson: A Pattern of Harshness?
Enter Judge Geoffrey Marson, the man behind Croaker’s sentence. Marson didn’t mince his words either, telling Croaker he “must have known” the riots were fuelled by alleged 'disinformation' and that he had “ample opportunity to leave.”
But let’s dig deeper into Marson’s track record—because the judge’s history might hint at why the sentence handed down to Croaker was, by many peoples standards exceptionally 'severe'.
Marson has presided over Teesside Crown Court for years, and his rulings often lean toward the punitive. Take, for instance, a 2025 case where he branded a Teesside child sex offender “dangerous” and handed down a 21-year sentence—a hefty term, no doubt deserved, but indicative of his willingness to throw the book at defendants. Then there’s the 2024 case of a trio involved in a £18k drug ring, where Marson doled out a combined 47 years. Again, a serious crime amounting to serious time. But when you juxtapose these with Croaker’s 20 months for shouting and shoving, the scales start to look very uneven.
But here’s where things get rather 'intriguing': its suspected Judge Marson may have crossed paths with the infamous Tommy Robinson, a lightning rod for claims of judicial bias and two-tier justice. Robinson, jailed for 18 months in 2024 for contempt of court at Woolwich Crown Court, has long argued that the court system targets him disproportionately for his political views.
Marson’s potential involvement in cases reportedly tied to high-profile, politically charged figures like Tommy Robinson raises serious questions about judicial impartiality.
A notable example of Robinson’s legal troubles came in 2018, when Robinson was jailed for contempt of court after live-streaming outside Leeds Crown Court during a Huddersfield grooming gang trial. According to a 2018 report by The Guardian, Robinson’s actions nearly caused the collapse of the trial involving 29 men charged with 120 rape and abuse offenses against 15 girls. By breaching reporting restrictions designed to ensure a fair trial, Robinson prompted defence lawyers to argue for a mistrial, putting justice for the victims at risk. He was initially sentenced to 13 months, later reduced to nine, for his actions. This incident underscores the judiciary’s sensitivity to public interference in high-stakes cases—but it also fuels the narrative of selective punishment. Robinson’s supporters argue he was exposing a systemic failure to address grooming gangs, while critics say his reckless behaviour endangered justice for the very victims he claimed to defend.
Bias or Business as Usual?
Judicial bias is a tricky thing to pin down. Marson’s stern approach could simply reflect his personal style—or the pressure to send a message during turbulent times. But when rioters like Croaker get harsher treatment than some violent offenders, it’s hard not to wonder if the system is rigged to protect its own image rather than dispense equal justice. The Middlesbrough riots were a wake up call to both the government & 'the system', with Croaker’s sentence feeling like a warning shot: don’t test the state’s patience.
Contrast this with the kid-glove treatment sometimes afforded to elites or certain connected figures. Politicians caught in scandals rarely see the inside of a cell. Corporate executives who tank economies often escape with fines. Yet a working-class bloke from Middlesbrough who loses his cool in a crowd gets nearly two years.
If that’s not two-tier justice, what is?
Karl Croaker’s case isn’t just about one man’s fate—it’s a microcosm of a system that seems increasingly out of touch with fairness. Teesside Crown Court, under judges like Marson, appears to be a cog in a machine designed to punish the little guy while letting bigger fish swim free. Whether Marson’s past brushes with high-profile cases like Robinson’s hint at bias or not, the outcome is the same: sentences that feel more like political statements than proportionate justice.
The UK supposedly prides itself on a legal system rooted in equity, but cases like this quickly chip away at that illusion. Until the courts start weighing crimes consistently—regardless of who’s in the dock or what the headlines say—we’ll keep seeing stories like Croaker’s, where the punishment doesn’t quite fit the crime, and the scales of justice tip suspiciously to one side.
