Godber’s Gone: Can the UK Police Learn from Hong Kong
Before Hong Kong became synonymous with gleaming skyscrapers and clean governments, it was a place where corruption ran so deep that even fire fighters wouldn’t turn on their hoses without water money. This is a story of how one man’s escape from justice, trigger a revolution in policing, and what it might teach us about the
the crisis facing UK policing today.
In the sweltering summer of 1973, a scandal was about to erupt that would forever change Hong Kong. But to understand its magnitude, we must first step back and examine Hong Kong of that era. The 60s and 70s Hong Kong wasn’t the transparent financial centre we know today. Corruption wasn’t just present, it was woven into the very fabric of daily life. The colony had developed as a report since the mid-19th century, with the 1950s economy taking off dramatically amid manufacturing growth and population
While the government maintained basic social order, demand for services far outstripped supply, this imbalance coupled with lax supervision transformed Hong Kong into fertile ground for corruption. What took root was a system of tea money, bribes that were paid for even the most basic services. Want a telephone installed? Pay up. Need firefighters to actually use their hoses when your property was ablaze? Better have that water money ready. Nowhere was corruption more entrenched than in the Royal Hong Kong Police Force. It wasn’t just individual bad apples, the entire barrel had rotted. Corruption within the force was systemic and often syndicated in nature. Officers operated protection rackets and took payoffs from triads, drug dealers, gambling dens and many prostitution rings. Many viewed their police salary as merely a baseline to be substantially supplemented through graft.
Against this backdrop, one man would become the catalyst for change, but before his fall from grace, he was something else entirely. He was a hero. The hero of 1967, Peter Godburn. Born in London on April 7th 1922, Peter Fitzroy Godburn began his policing career humbly enough, serving as a constable on the Hastings County Borough Police for four and a half years.
In August 1952, he arrived in Hong Kong as a probationary sub-inspector. Now remember, as a colonial, going to Hong Kong police, your lowest rank is going to be inspector or sub-inspector for your probation.
Beginning what would become a two-decade career in the colony. As rise through the ranks was steady, by 1955 he’d been promoted to assistant superintendent,
by July 1969, he had reached the rank of chief superintendent. But it was during the Civil unrest of 1966 and 1967 that Godburn truly made his name. These were tumultuous times for Hong Kong. The Cultural Revolution in mainland China had spilled over into the colony, with communists-inspired riots threatening the stability of the British administration.
Ten Hong Kong policemen were killed by bombs of attacks in the streets.
Throughout this period, Godburn distinguished himself confronting rioters directly and earning decorations for his bravery. By the early 1970s, Godburn was serving as deputy district commander of Kowloon, one of the most senior positions in the force. To the public and many colleagues he’d epitomised the ideal colonial police officer, brave, competent and commanding respect.
Few suspected that beneath this veneer lay one of the most corrupt officers in Hong Kong’s history.
It began, as many investigations do, with a seemingly minor discrepancy, a routine inquiry about a bank account. In 1971, an internal police unit discovered an unusual remittance from Hong Kong to Canada. A sum of Canadian dollars 12,000 had been transferred to a Canadian bank account under the name of P. F. Gedber,
a thinly disguised pseudonym for P. F. Godber.
Charles Sutcliffe, who was leading the force’s anti-corruption efforts, was astounded when this was reported to him. Had a chief superintendent amassed such wealth to be making these international transfers, the discovery prompted the launch of an internal investigation codenamed “Havana”.
But Havana made little headway. The anti-corruption branch, still part of the police force itself, faced inherent limitations in investigating one of its highest ranking officers.
Whether due to deliberate obstruction or the systemic nature of corruption making internal investigation impossible, the investigation stalled. Then in early 1973, Godber applied for retirement, effective from July of that year.
This move might have allowed him to depart quietly with his algotten gains, but fate intervened.
A few months before his retirement date, the Commissioner of Police received intelligence that Godber was incessantly remitting considerable sums of money abroad. Let’s try on a more intensive investigation. Within a month, investigators had contacted 480 licensed banks in Hong Kong, tracking down accounts linked to Godber. The findings were shocking, as Hong Kong accounts contained balances close to £330,000 Hong Kong dollars, and he just remitted $20,000 to Canada. When Godber applied to bring his retirement forward by another month, investigators sensed urgency and expedited their search for evidence. What they uncovered was staggering.
In the previous five years alone, Godber’s deposits of Hong Kong and the remittances abroad amounted to more than £624,000 Hong Kong dollars. That was nearly equivalent to his entire salary from 1952 to 1973.
day that Godber was informed of the investigation into his finances, police officers searched his quarters and car. What they found added more fuel to the fire, three plastic writing cases suspected of being bribe money log books, numerous financial documents and dozens of silver bars packed in two boxes.
Further financial investigation revealed that Godber’s resources were worth more than £4,370,000, six times his total official income since joining the police force.
That equates to nearly £400,000.
In the Hong Kong of the early 1970s, this placed Godber among the super rich. The walls were closing in. Police planned to arrest Godber if he failed to provide a satisfactory explanation for his wealth when the seven-day deadline expired. To prevent him from fleeing, they requested that the Immigration Department notify all control points at Kaitak Airport to stop him from leaving the territory.
It would have worked, if not for what investigators later called the “vacuum period”. Those seven days when they could neither arrest Godber nor take any legal action against him. During this window in June 8th, 1973, Godber played his trump card. A special airport security permit issued to police officers that allowed him to bypass immigration controls.
Using this permit, he slipped past security, boarded the flight to Singapore and from there made his way to England. When news of his escape broke, the headline was simple but explosive. Godber’s gone.
The highest ranking corrupt police officer in Hong Kong’s history had escaped justice. The public reaction was immediate and furious.
The escape of Peter Godber unleashed a firestorm of public anger. It wasn’t just that a corrupt officer had fled. It was what his escape represented. The impunity of the powerful, the failures of the system and the perception that British colonial authorities weren’t serious about tackling corruption. People from all walks of life took to the streets chanting “Fight corruption! Arrest Godber!” Students organised protests, civic groups demanded answers. The respected anti-corruption campaigner, L. C. Elliott, claimed to have evidence of collusion in Godber’s escape alleging a deliberate cover-up. The press coverage was relentless. The colonial government was facing not just a scandal but a crisis of legitimacy. Governor Sir Murray Macklehose of Mibol recognised the severity of the situation noting that corruption had become a subject of raucous criticisms of both the informed and uninformed in Hong Kong. To ease the furoray, Macklehose appointed Senior Judge Sir Alistair Blair Care to form a Commission of Inquiry. The Commission had two tasks. To investigate the circumstances of Godber’s escape and to review the anti-corruption work of that time.
Given only three weeks to produce his findings, Blair Care conducted what was described as a secret commission of inquiry. The fundamental questions were straightforward. How did Godber get away? Was he helped? The pressure wasn’t just coming from Hong Kong.
and Commonwealth office filed reveal, the British government was feeling increased pressure from residents in the UK as well.
diverse backgrounds sending petitions and expressing disputent, the very foundations of British rule in Hong Kong seem to be shaking. Something had to be done, not just apprehend Godber, but to fundamentally reform the system that had allowed corruption to flourish.
in October 1973, the government adopted the Blair Care Commission’s recommendations and in February 1974 established the Independent Commission Against Corruption, the ICAC. The key word was independent. The new body would be separate from the police force and the rest of the civil service. The creation of the ICAC was a direct result of the Godber scandal. There was a radical step, effectively acknowledging that the police could not be trusted to police themselves. The ICAC took over all cases under investigation by the police’s anti-corruption office, including, ironically, the Godber file, the very case that had led to the ICAC’s creation.
From its inception, the ICAC was given formidable pairs of investigation and arrest and was charged specifically with targeting graft.
It recruited both locally and abroad, assembling a team determined to change Hong Kong’s culture of corruption. Among the ICAC’s first and most daunting tasks was bringing Godber to justice. The Commission deployed a core group of top officers to pursue the case, including John Prendergast, Director of Operations, Gerald Hartnett, Deputy Director of Operations and two Assistant Directors. But they faced a significant challenge. While there was substantial material evidence showing Godber controlled, huge unexplained assets,
witnesses were scarce. According to the ICAC Chief Investigator Wong Kok-Lung, nobody was willing to come forward to testify against it. Perhaps people were still rather conservative in those days. They’d rather choke with silent fury instead of speaking out.
Another obstacle was legal. Godber had fled to the United Kingdom and he was confident he could never be extradited on a charge of possessing financial assets disproportionate to his official to Mouliand, because no similar offence existed in English law.
But the ICAC persisted. After months of relentless effort, they got their breakthrough when a former ex-patriot, police superintendent imprisoned for another bribery case, expressed willingness to provide evidence against Godber.
He testified that he had witnessed Godber accepting a 25,000 Hong Kong dollar bribe from a former Chinese superintendent in exchange for helping him secure a posting at Wan Chai Police Station. This testimony was so crucial that the Director and Deputy Director of Operations personally conducted multiple prison interviews with the superintendent.
Based on his information, investigators arrested the Chinese superintendent who’d allegedly paid the bribe. Both became tainted witnesses against Godber. Their testimony aligned with material evidence collected from Godber’s residence, including handwritten notes, showing that after the Chinese superintendent paid his bribe, Godber’s assets jumped by about 90,000 Hong Kong dollars.
with witnesses and mounting evidence, the ICAC worked with the UK police to arrest Godber on April 29th 1974.
This began an eight month extradition battle with Godber fighting fiercely against being returned to Hong Kong and denying all allegations. Finally, the ICAC won their case with an extradition order from the London court. Godber was escorted back to Hong Kong on January 7th 1975 under exceptional tight security.
On February 17th 1975, Peter Godber stood trial of the Victoria District Court. The case was so significant that the government for the first time appointed a leading counsel from the UK as prosecutor, demonstrating both the importance of the case and the determination to combat corruption.
Godber faced one count of conspiracy and one count of accepting a bribe. After a six and a half day trial, he was convicted and sentenced to four years imprisonment.
The 25,000 Hong Kong dollars he had taken as a bribe was ordered confiscated. Judge T. Lai Yang, who presided over the case later noted, “In this case, the maximum jail terms for the two offenses Godber committed were five and seven years respectively.
Privy Council in London, but both appeals were dismissed. Meanwhile, the ICAC failed a civil writ to try and recover the estimated four million Hong Kong dollars and assets suspected to be corrupt income. Despite the difficulty of seizing assets spread across multiple continents, the ICAC continued its pursuit of the missing millions.”
cult Importantly, the successful conclusion of the case rebutted criticism that the ICAC would only catch flies, but not tigers. It helped the Commission win recognition and faith among the public, restoring confidence of the government and the justice system. The ICAC’s aggressive anti-corruption campaign was not without controversy. Police were major targets simply because they, usually in uniform, had the closest day-to-day relations with the public. The operations were widespread and intense, with many arrests. By 1977 there was significant pushback. Many police officers felt victimised, believing that practices that had been either accepted or ignored for years were now being subjected to rigorous scrutiny and prosecution.
Thousands of police marched on headquarters or staged meetings to express their anger and distress. In the Spons, the government issued an amnesty for almost all past cases, mostly involving petty corruption. This pragmatic compromise allowed Hong Kong to move forward while acknowledging the systemic nature of the problem. It wasn’t just about bad individuals, but about reforming an entire culture.
officers examined the force’s manpower and structure, making numerous recommendations. He amongst these was that police officers should receive a realistic living wage, addressing one of the root causes of the corruption. The police system that emerged from this five-year period of upheaval was better staffed, more directly managed and more accountable. The force expanded significantly, growing from 14,500 officers in the mid-1970s to 24,700 officers by the mid-1980s. More time than ICAC’s efforts transformed Hong Kong from a city where corruption penetrated every stratum of society to one of the cleanest metroposies in the world.
As ICAC Commissioner Simon Cott would later remark, “Our success in containing corruption has won a global brand status unique to Hong Kong.”
The fall of modern UK policing
Fast forward to 2025 and across the world and the United Kingdom, there are troubling echoes of Hong Kong’s pre-reform era. While the situations are not identical, the UK does not suffer from the same level of systemic corruption that plagued 1970s Hong Kong. There are disturbing parallels in terms of declining public confidence and institutional challenges.
Most in UK policing is falling to record lows in recent years. According to an October 2024 survey, 52% of adults in Great Britain reported having no or not very much confidence in the police to tackle crime locally, compared to just 39% in October 2019.
The percentage of adults who thought the police were doing a good job has plummeted from 72% in 2019 to 54% in 2024.
This crisis of confidence is particularly acute among younger generations.
Generation Z, though aged around 15 to 28, show alarmingly low levels of trust, with only 44% expressing confidence in the police. The statistics on crime resolution paint an equally concerning picture. Between 2015 and 2023, percentage of crime resulting in offenders being caught and taken to court fell from 16% to just 5.7%.
And for sexual assault cases, it’s even more dire. Around 2% have reported
charges and court proceedings.
There are multiple factors driving this decline. His Majesty’s Chief Inspector of Constabulary Andy Cook has described widespread systemic failings in both the police and criminal justice system.
Police forces are struggling to get the basics right, especially on investigation and in responding to the public.
High profile incidents of misconduct and criminality have further eroded trust. This is the Godbird case, exposed deep issues in Hong Kong’s police. Recent scandals in the UK have revealed troubling patterns of behaviour within police ranks.
There are also significant workforce issues. Many officers carry high workloads and don’t feel valued for their work. A 2023 survey found that 73% of officers would not recommend joining the force.
among officers themselves. Rick Pryor, head of the Metropolitan Police Federation, highlighted that many officers are now reluctant to engage in proactive policing due to fears of being labelled as racists or facing career-ending complaints. The psychological burden of substantial officers witnessed colleagues suspended are subjected to legal proceedings simply for performing their duties, leading many to adopt a more passive approach rather than risk scrutiny. As a result, the Metropolitan Police is seeing officers resign in large numbers, with London’s police numbers dropping to the lowest levels in a decade.
This combination of declining public confidence, reduced effectiveness and a demoralised workforce creates a dangerous spiral, one that builds unsettling similarities to pre-reform Hong Kong.
The transformation of Hong Kong’s police service from one of the most corrupt to one of the most respected in Asia offers potential lessons for the UK. In other contexts, there are significantly several principles made apply.
of the ICAC as a body truly independent from the police was crucial to Hong Kong’s reforms. In the UK,
the independence and powers of oversight bodies could help rebuild trust. His Majesty’s Chief Inspector for Constabulary has recommended providing inspectors of constabulary with enhanced powers and
and sufficient funding to help forces improve.
Just as Hong Kong had to return to fundamental principles of policing, the UK needs to prioritise getting the basics right in investigation and responding to the public. This includes concentrating on effective neighbourhood policing, creating visible, accessible local police presence.
Hong Kong’s experience shows that community-focused reforms must be substantive, not just glossy strategies and mission statements
fail to bring lasting change. Fair treatment and
Research shows that ensuring officers interact with the public in a procedurally just way is likely to increase trust. This means making failed decisions, treating people respectfully and adhering to ethical standards.
Hong Kong’s reforms included ensuring police received a realistic living wage, while UK police compensation differs from 1970s Hong Kong. The principle of properly supporting officers remains valid. This extends beyond financial support to creating a culture where officers feel valued and protected when acting in good faith.
A new training programme focused on conflict management and de-escalation showed promising results in one UK force, reducing the likelihood of officers using force by 10%.
such evidence-based approaches could help rebuild trust by protecting both the public and officers.
Rather than focusing solely on the medical targets for hiring officers, a more balanced approach to workforce planning may be beneficial. As Majesty Stephen Spector has recommended, abolishing fixed officer hiring targets to allow forces to build more effective teams.
effective recruitment and subsequent promotion within the police service requires, no, it demands that everything should be based on merit.
there is no point in recruiting people merely to fill quotas.
Similarly, reviewing how UK forces are funded to ensure resources go where they are most needed could help address current challenges.
Hong Kong’s transformation requires significant investment.
need to follow suit.
The history of Peter Godbar’s downfall in Hong Kong’s subsequent police reformatation offers both a warming and a hope for the UK. It demonstrates how quickly public confidence can collapse when institutions fail. But also how, with determination and the right reforms, trust can be rebuilt and a new, more effective model of policing can emerge. Perhaps the most difficult but important lesson from Hong Kong is that deep cultural change is possible but requires sustained effort over years, not quite fixes.
As in Hong Kong, building a new policing culture in the UK will require leadership, vision and the courage to confront uncomfortable truth.
The window for such transformation may be limited. As his Majesty Stephen Spector of Constabulary warned in 2023, the police service is at an historic turning point and there is a limited window of opportunity to repair public trust. The question now is whether the UK will seize that opportunity before it closes.
Godbar’s story remains a powerful reminder that no one’s situation is beyond reform and that even in the darkest moments of instantational failure, the path to redemption can be found.