Limits of Justice: A Perspective on Criminal Appeals
Posted on behalf of: Amber McLaren
Last updated: Thursday, 16 April 2026
Imagine being told you could spend years, maybe decades, in prison, even if something went wrong in your case, because fixing it isn’t as simple as “just appealing”. That’s the reality of the criminal appeal system, and it’s a lot harsher and more complicated than most people think.
Prior to my experience with the Criminal Justice Law Clinic, I believed that if a sentence feels unfair, you can just challenge it and get another shot. That same belief seemed to be shared by someone who was convicted in a case that I clerked and may be shared by some of you reading this. But appeals don’t work like that. You don’t get to re-argue your whole case or ask a different judge to take another look just because you are unhappy with the outcome. The law sets a very high bar. To even get permission to appeal, you usually need to show that something specific went wrong, like a legal mistake during the trial, or that there’s new evidence that could make a real difference like in the case of Peter Sullivan. Without that, the door to an appeal is often closed.
That’s why barristers sometimes have to give advice that clients really don’t want to hear. Being told “you don’t have grounds to appeal” can feel like a dead end, especially if you genuinely believe your sentence is too harsh or your conviction is unfair. You also only have 28 days from conviction to gain permission to appeal a Crown court conviction/sentence from a judge at the Court of Appeal. But being told you don’t have grounds is not about a lack of belief or effort from the lawyer, it’s about the limits of the system itself. You can’t appeal just on the basis that something feels unfair. There has to be a clear legal reason.
And even when there is a path forward, it’s rarely quick. Some people spend years in prison before their cases are looked at again. Examples include Andrew Malkinson (17 years served), the Guildford Four and Sally Clark (freed in 2003). In certain situations, it takes fresh evidence, sometimes uncovered long after the trial, for an appeal to succeed. By then, a huge amount of time has already been lost. The system can correct mistakes, but it doesn’t always do it quickly, prolonging miscarriages of justice.
There’s also a financial reality that doesn’t get talked about enough. If a client disagrees with their barrister’s advice and wants a second opinion, that usually isn’t covered by legal aid. In other words, you have to pay for it yourself. For many people, that simply isn’t an option. So even if you feel strongly that your case deserves another look, your ability to challenge that advice may come down to whether you can afford it. Or you represent yourself which means you have to rely on informal networks or self-help, just because of the limited legal aid funding at appeal level.
All of this makes the appeal process incredibly tough not just legally, but emotionally. You’re dealing with strict rules, long waiting times, and no guarantee of success, all while your life is effectively on hold. For those in prison, that pressure is even more intense. Every delay matters. Every decision carries weight.
Appeals are an essential safeguard in the justice system, but they’re not a safety net you can rely on easily. They are difficult, limited, and often slow. And for the people going through them, they are not just a legal process, they are a long uncertain fight to be heard.