Peter Rhodes on pollution great and small, renaming the death certificate and nicking burglars, years after the crime

THE swaggering raiders captured on CCTV at the Beckhams' mansion were wearing coveralls, the clothing of choice for today's burglars. They assume they will never be identified. But "never" is a word that doesn't apply to forensic science.

FORTY years ago, DNA was unable to give results on tiny samples. Today, a steady stream of old men who thought they had got away with rape or murder are being jailed thanks to the latest DNA refinements. How long before police have the technology to "see" through those burglars' coveralls, calculate the height, weight and body mass and identify the crook beneath? It may be ten years, it may be five, but the knock on the door is coming.

OUR changing language. A friend from Australia was surprised to hear his aged father in England had been admitted to the "frailty assessment unit." It used to be the geriatric ward and he assumes this is part of the British tendency to rename things to make them sound kindlier. Yet amid the changing buzzwords of terminal care, one document stands out for being as blunt as ever. Any suggestions for a gentler term for the death certificate? The Final Statement, perhaps? The Clog-Popper's Chitty?

YOU have some building work done. Unknown to you, the builder dumps the old plasterboard in a lay-by. You can then be prosecuted by your local council for not ensuring the waste was properly disposed of. It may seem unfair but you at least have the consolation that we are all equal before the law. Or are we?

HUNDREDS of tons of UK plastic waste which should have been recycled has been dumped in the oceans of Malaysia. Now, supposing a few tons of it had been handed over to "recycling" contractors by your local council - the same council that was so eager to prosecute you over a few plaster boards. Surely, if there is any justice, the senior councillors and officials of that council will be hauled before the courts and fined for global pollution offences. No, I wouldn't bank on it either.

A READER with an unblemished 54-year driving record is seething, having received an "advisory letter" from the cops. It alleges that she passed too close to a cyclist. The evidence came not from a police highways officer nor a roadside camera but was based on an uncorroborated complaint by a cyclist with a helmet camera who, for all anyone knows, may hate all drivers. My reader recalls the incident. She insists the cyclist was turning right and he drifted too close to her. But no-one seems interested in her account. Without weighing the evidence, the police send their letter which carries a warning that a repeat of this driving could lead to court or a driver-awareness course. Strange sort of justice.

THE end result is that a middle-aged lady who once instinctively supported the police now wonders whose side they are on.