Thirty years ago a left wing law professor, John Griffith, wrote a famous book entitled The Politics of the Judiciary. In his book Griffith challenged the traditional belief in judicial ‘neutrality’. This traditional view held that judges are apolitical neutral arbiters, who decide cases based on the correct view of the law, and divorce their decisions from their own political beliefs and assumptions.

Griffith set out to explode the myth that judges are ‘political, economic and social eunuchs’. Judges, he argued, are frequently required to make assessments of where the public interest lies, and as such, they regularly make political decisions. And in making political decisions, judges cannot, and do not, act ‘neutrally’. Their decision-making will inevitably be informed by their personal backgrounds, world-views and assumptions, whether conscious or otherwise. And more often than not those backgrounds and assumptions are white, male and upper middle class.

Griffiths’ insights shaped left-wing thinking about the legal system for many years. His book led to demands for a judiciary more representative of British society, more diverse in terms of race and gender, and more in touch with the real world.

Recently, however, many people on the left seem to have lost this capacity for critical thinking about the pronouncements of senior judges, treating them as fonts of unchallengeable wisdom on matters concerning the relationship between the individual and the state. Whereas in the 1970s and 1980s judges were often seen as reactionary, now they are perceived by many on the left as a bulwark of civil liberties against an over-mighty executive. Judges once considered as right wing and anti-trade union are now applauded for their defence of traditional civil libertarian principles in areas like crime and terrorism.

Yet often that applause is unjustified. A case in point is the recent decision by the law lords to halt the use of anonymous witnesses in some criminal trials, a decision which Jack Straw has announced the government will overturn. Straw points out that in the real world witness intimidation is a fact of life, and that particularly in cases involving serious drug and gun crime, witnesses will often simply refuse to testify unless they have the protection of anonymity.

As John Yates, assistant commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, points out, the law lords’ decision means that around 50 men convicted of serious crimes, serving lengthy sentences, could now be set free. This will undo much policing work in inner city communities. It will mean that the police will be seen in those communities as having ‘broken their word’. It will be deeply damaging to the fight against drug and gun crime.

And what do we, the public, know of the judges who made this decision? How many of us can even name them? Is it right that this issue should be decided by judges – overwhelmingly from public school, commercial and chancery law background – who know virtually nothing of the realities of policing and law enforcement? At one time the left would have had no hesitation in asking such questions.

I would suggest that, as an MP for a constituency with its fair share of from drug and gun crime, Jack Straw may be better qualified to weigh the public interest on this subject than judges who have spent their careers immersed in commercial contract cases. But many people on the left now seem to believe that judges possess some unique and incontrovertible wisdom on matters of civil liberties and that to disagree with them, as Straw has done, is an illegitimate usurpation of power.

In the US, Supreme Court judges are nominated by the president and vetted, and often vigorously challenged, by Congress. Their backgrounds, previous judgements and political views are the subject of fierce debate. Presidents know that their Supreme Court appointments may be their most lasting political legacy. This process has many flaws, but at least it recognises judges for what they are: players on the political stage.

And that’s what we need to remember about senior judges in this country: they are players on the political stage. Just as Griffith argued, in a democracy their motives, assumptions, backgrounds and suitability to make decisions affecting all of us are matters of legitimate public debate. They may not always be especially well qualified to determine where the public interest lies. They can and often should be challenged and criticised. And people on the left should know that better than most.