There was a time this phrase meant something else: The ability to remain calm for instance. Or to show no mercy against an opponent. It could also have inferred one had no feelings.

Dylan, his cousin James and I were at the Magistrate's Court in Frankston most of yesterday. The hours spent in Courtroom 1 firstly waiting for Boyd to get his arse there and then for his case to be heard, I discovered a whole new definition. A more literal one, I would argue.

There was a parade of sorts. All young men between the ages of 18-25. All dressed (except for the one in a borrowed-too-large-suit and a paid-for lawyer) in whatever passes for casual wear in that crowd: butts in saggy ripped jeans, high-vis green and yellow tradie vests (maybe to hint they actually did work at some point in their miserable lives) hoodies and assorted dirty sneakers. Like some cult.

One by one this rag-tag lot stood before the table a short distance from the bench and deliberated whether to stand or sit as an irritated judge said over and over "There! That chair! Sit!" One by one they pleaded guilty to driving under the influence of methamphetamines or as the only lawyer present voiced it, "Ice, Your Honour." One by one they claimed to "have turned my life around" and "I am sorry for what I done, Your Honour."

One by one they left with a suspended licence, a fine between $200-$2,000 and no conviction recorded. Not a single conviction. Apparently, as the judge kept repeating, their guilty pleas were affording them a fair degree of leniency, as was their supposed lack of priors.

Here's the problem: With NO prior convictions, back they are in Court as though first-timers over and over. Their previous offences are not made known to the judge. He can only work within the perimeters presented to him. Fucking hell! Boyd (his third appearance in court for the same offence, driving under the influence of ice in two years) got off with a cancellation of his licence for 12 months, a 2k fine and an order to undertake a "Safe Driving Course". His initial charge of dangerous driving was reduced to"reckless" driving because of no priors. No one could tell me why this blatant lie.

Boyd was on a cocktail of ice, weed and opiates 9.00am on New Year's Day when at 140k an hour he lost control of his car on the freeway, hitting another car and causing it to spin around and end up in a ditch with Boyd's car also sideways in the same ditch. No one was seriously injured. His car was totalled; the other car sustained almost 10k in damages. He was drug tested at the scene and charged. He was subsequently tested again at the Police Station. He came back positive both times for DUI. His still-probationary licence was not taken off him at the scene or at the station. This licence has been used to drive MY car the past six months it took to get his case heard.

I have mentioned I think that he has been living with us for almost a year. For those unaware of his story... I took him in when I found out he and his then-girlfriend Molly had been living in his car. We've known Boyd many years and he spent almost two years down on the coast with us when younger. I love the kid as my own. I have fought to keep him here despite opposition from my family. I have spent countless hours coaching him and trying to work past his many issues, including the 30k debt over his young head.

He has not learned a thing. He used my home as a crash-pad. From there, off he went to one mate or another for "a mix"- or worse, as we later found out. Sometimes I'd wake and see strangers in our home (I call them strangers though I've met the odd half dozen Boyd-look-alikes he hangs with once or twice and dismissed them equally.)

Two days before his Court hearing I finally kicked him out. On this day, we had surreptitiously tested his urine and found 6 out of the 10 Class 1 restricted drugs displayed on the kit in his system. We tested him because my parents' sleeping and psych meds had gone missing (including the scripts for repeats) two months in a row. A visit to the doctor the day before to try and obtain more scripts for them resulted in a discussion with him regarding Boyd and what we suspected. He suggested we test his urine.

Boyd had also lately taken to going to Springvale - the traditional "heroin and meth" capital of the State - supposedly to "play pool". Alarms rang. Big alarms in me, given my battle with the boys' dad's addiction and the hell I endured during the course of their young lives fighting to keep us all going.

We confronted Boyd afterwards in my room. Dyls recorded the conversation. Initially Boyd denied everything. I went after him verbally and something in my tone changed his attitude. He admitted to using. He admitted to driving my car under the influence (sometimes with one or another parent or one of the boys in the car) despite my mantra every time he drove: "Are you clean and sober?" He lied every time. His defence was that "I thought you was asking about "weed."

After I kicked him out I called his father and worked with him to get Boyd away from here and up North, straight after the court case. Truth be told however, I wanted him locked up. A way to save his life maybe? A lesson- perhaps the shock of some months of incarceration might jolt him out of his drug stupor.

So I embarked on speaking to various police officers the day before he was to appear in Court. Our local Police were no help. My mention of both testing and recording his subsequent admittance were sternly chastised as "obtained without consent" and possibly exposing me to "illegal" activities- should Boyd choose to pursue me. The nice but clearly frustrated copper informed me their job was to catch them but the current judicial system had them back on the streets where further offences took place such as driving with a cancelled licence and in unregistered or borrowed vehicles.

He suggested I speak to the officers at the scene of Boyd's latest "accident". After tracking them down they repeated the same refrain as to their helplessness and my breaking the law in obtaining his urine and testing it without his consent and... referred me to the Prosecutor- who might possibly find a way to introduce his priors without our evidence which was inadmissible. I phoned him. He suggested I stay out of it and let the Court decide his fate; this to protect my family given I'd have to testify against him.

Overall, I received more tut-tutting by the various cops I spoke to over MY actions than did he- given he's been driving legally many months with any manner of drugs in his system and almost killed someone on this last occasion.

He arrived for his court appearance several hours late and clearly under the influence. He stood before the judge in unwashed rag-tag clothes, a beanie and some sunnies on his head; mumbled a guilty plea and said nothing else. The judge kept pushing him to make a statement- maybe a show of remorse? None was given. I could see the Judge's frustration. He asked for the report from the scene and read over it once more.

I elbowed Dyls. "Surely, given it was early morning on New Year's Day and the fact there were several drugs in his system and a third party involved will influence the decision this time?"

"Shhh!"

I heard the Judge ask the prosecutor, "Any priors?"

"Nil priors, Your Honour."

"Fuck!"

"Shhh!"

Ohhh... That's when the dots connected. Despite this third incident happening within two weeks of Boyd getting his still-probationary licence back after a Court-ordered Drug Education Course... his sheet was technically clean. Only convictions mattered.

I had a direct line of sight with the Judge (we were the only spectators) and as he requested Boyd to stand up for sentencing, I made contact with him. My eyes pleaded. My mouth voiced "No, no, no!" and as he delivered his verdict... my head first shook in disbelief then... hung dejectedly. The judge's frown as he'd spoken had said it all.

We drove away from court and for the first few minutes looked about us and considered the possibility of at least 3-4 ice-affected drivers in our surrounds. Given the long parade this day and multiplying it over the course of a week of similar "no conviction" junkies walking out of that Courtroom (and even one witnessed driving off in his car despite his cancelled licence) there was a fair amount of tension in my car.

"Fuck! Multiply what we saw today across every Magistrate's Court! In the country! When did we get an ice epidemic?" This from Dylan.

I was doing another calculation in my head: Almost 20k had been generated in fine revenues in the one Courtroom in the few hours we'd observed. There were five other Courtrooms in this complex all dealing with similar matters. There are dozens of Courts scattered in our suburbs. There are hundreds spread around our towns and cities.

Some serious revenue collection, no doubt about it.

Back home, Dylan pursued prior court decisions online trying to find the point at which an actual conviction has been recently recorded. He discovered some frightening statistics: Ice is prevalent in high numbers within this particular demographic: One in four young men have "tried" ice and the majority of these are regular users. Yet in they go through the revolving door and out they come again with a slap on the wrist and the threat of "conviction" should they re-offend.

"Mum, I found one- oh, never mind."

"One?"

"Well I thought the mum who killed her two year old might do time but she got off on a good behaviour bond and no conviction because she was-" (he did quotation marks in the air) "depressed and also on psych meds at the time. She got a 2k fine too."

What bullshit!

And when did our Courts become mere revenue-raising streams? All the cops I spoke to were clearly frustrated but powerless. Their job was to round up the offenders and present them to Court. Beyond this, they had no further influence. Most offenders we observed that day in and out of the courtrooms were laughing before and after their cases were heard. There was no tension, no fear to any of them. They knew the drill. Some emerged after yet another "slap" joking about their "luck" and the "stupid same Judge again". All, as the police had said over and over, would go on to re-offend. The revolving door keeps revolving.

I came very close (Dyls and James either side physically holding me back) to standing up and giving the Judge a piece of my mind that day. Like, "This is Boyd's third offence! He HAS priors! He's a bloody junkie, what does he have to do, kill someone before you guys take notice? He is high now for God's sake!"

I also contemplated adding, "If Boyd as a Probationary Driver had even a whiff of alcohol on his breath his licence would have been suspended on the spot. Methamphetamines, weed, opiates, benzos and possibly heroin of late... how come he gets to keep his licence and drive high on that cocktail?"

If his car had not been written off New Year's Day... he could have walked out of that police station and driven off in it licence intact, despite testing positive, despite damage to property, despite the potential for further carnage. We have zero tolerance to alcohol, we have devices fitted to cars of repeated offenders. Drugs however and especially the scourge that is ice... you're good to go till your Court date and another slap on the wrist.

Futile. Inadmissible, any evidence I provided. And I stood the risk of persecution myself for "illegally" testing his urine. Given he lived in my home and admitted to stealing and using our prescription meds and other drugs, given the danger to myself and the family, given the risks of him seriously injuring or killing someone on the roads... my actions were the unlawful ones. He walked out of that courtroom grinning.

Sadly, it is illegal for the police to test offenders in Court. The thought occurred-what if they didn't lose their licence over some technicality and then simply got behind the wheel and drove off... legally? With ice in their veins! What kind of world have we created and are perpetuating?

Dyls kept firing precedents at me the rest of the evening. "Someone killed a woman driving ice-affected and got 4 years mum. Parole in 3 years!"

The worth of human life and property apparently decreases when drugs are involved. Case after case of serious harm to others and to property and these young offenders are sent off to re-offend without conviction. The police keep a bloody list of them. They know them! Trouble is, the new tech they use only picks up unregistered/stolen/suspect vehicles and subsequently, unlicenced drivers in them. If the car is registered and otherwise clean and doesn't "ping" it is ignored no matter who is driving it; no matter they may be unlicenced and under court orders not to get behind the wheel. If like Boyd, they drive a "clean car", like mine, they can cruise around without concern.

Till they re-offend and go through the process all over again.

I am no fan of mandatory sentencing. I get that at times there are special circumstances to be considered before a verdict is arrived at. But there must be something in-between; something allowing these "without conviction" priors to be made known- both to the Judge and the community at large; a community of unsuspecting sitting ducks waiting for the next young dude with ice in his veins to plough into them.

Later that night I asked Dyls: "What percentage of the revenue raised goes into rehabilitation programs, can you check?"

"Ahead of you. You won't like it."

"Ye?"

"The waiting lists for rehab stretch months out. And there's little or no support after that. They send them back to the lives they came from. Duh, they're gonna re-offend!"

"Where are the fucking parents? Where were they today?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just be careful driving, mum."

There was a moment, standing there outside the Court, I looked at my son and nephew. Both dressed similarly in black jeans, shirts, long wool coats, scarves and boots. They looked out of place in the sea of high-vis and hoodies. Two privileged young men. Assured. Comfortable within themselves. Confident as only those who hold no fear of the law are confident.

Yet they've each had very tough lives. They've had every excuse to give in to drugs as away of forgetting briefly their troubles. Simply, they refuse to allow their circumstances to define them. They chose and choose daily to say, "No, thanks."

They are not perfect. They smoke tobacco and oft of late, weed. Sometimes, a night every few months, they drink too much and end up curled on the bathroom floor. But they don't drive. No lives or property are at risk when they consume. Dylan is up at 6.00am every morning working on his Github projects. James writes music. They use weed as a tool of an evening- given its propensity to "open minds". Much as I do, to write sometimes.

There is always a choice. That's the lesson here. One can choose to hide and mask or one can choose to overcome. Jordan Peterson (all the boys and I have immersed ourselves in his lectures and talks of late) says something like this: "Pick up that damn cross, hoist it on your back and climb that bloody hill!"

Responsibility.

That's the word came to mind as I compared Dylan and James to the rest of them that moment. My two understand and accept it. The rest have either never known it or reject it out of some misguided notion it is cool to live without it.

"Ice" is wiping out a good portion of this generation of young males in this country. Lives ruined because we, the adults, firstly fail as parents then pass on this failure to our judicial system. Responsibility and its off-sider, accountability, are simply not lessons considered vital to the futures of these young men. As a mother, I weep. As a driver ferrying my most valued people to and fro... I shudder at the danger I expose them to on our roads.

Meanwhile... another Court session gathers revenue and rewards "guilty pleas" and "nil priors" with the gift of "without conviction".