As Far As I Can Recall

Seven episodes. I've spent seven episodes building a framework for reading language under pressure.And now I want to tell you about the times that framework failed.Not in small ways. In serious ways. In ways that mattered.Because the framework is real. It works. It's useful.But it's also incomplete.This episode is about the blind spots. About the woman whose trauma shattered her ability to create a linear narrative. About the autistic man whose language patterns were misread as evasion. About the man from a different culture whose formality was respect, not hiding.It's about what happens when you become too certain in a framework. When pattern recognition turns into confirmation bias. When you stop considering that you might be wrong.And it's about what the framework can actually do - and what it cannot.Follow the podcast on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

There's a sentence structure that appears in every conversation with someone defending their past.If...then. Because...therefore. You have to understand that...which meant that...The conditional. The explanation. The justification. The architecture built to make sense of something that doesn't make sense.It's an argument. Not with you. With themselves.One day, in a session, the sentence structure changes.It stops being conditional. It stops being explanatory. It becomes simple.I did this.That's when you know they've stopped running.This episode is about the moment when the defense ends. When someone stops arguing with themselves about why they did what they did and just accepts that they did it.And what that acceptance sounds like in the language they use.Follow the podcast on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

A train station at night is a particular kind of place.The light is wrong. Fluorescent. It flattens everything. The platforms are long and empty except for one or two people who shouldn't be standing still like that.I worked British Transport Police. I learned to read decisions in how someone stands. Not what they're saying. Before they say anything.This episode is about what happens when the frameworks you've learned for reading language break down completely. When someone isn't managing information. When someone is drowning.And what it costs to listen to that sound night after night.Follow the podcast on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

There was a man who told me everything.Not in an interview. In a statement. Written down. Typed. Formatted. A narrative of events that covered a three-day period with remarkable clarity. What he did. Where he went. Who he saw. Times, dates, locations. A complete account of his movements across seventy-two hours.The statement was fifteen pages long.And it was, in every structural sense, perfect.Coherent. Chronological. Every event traced to the next in logical sequence. No contradictions. No gaps. No moments where the account stumbled or corrected itself or reached for a detail that wouldn't quite come into focus.I knew, before I'd finished reading it, that he was lying.Not because of what was in the statement. Because of what wasn't. Because of the very perfection of it. Because actual memory does not work that way.This episode is about why a story that's too detailed, too organised, too perfectly structured, is sometimes the most suspicious thing in a room.And what that suspicion is actually tracking.Follow the podcast on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

There is a man who was the most cooperative person I ever interviewed.He arrived early. Voluntarily. No solicitor. He brought a folder.A folder. Printed pages inside. Dates. Times. A timeline he'd constructed himself, cross-referenced with receipts and a phone bill. He slid it across the table before I'd finished setting up the recording equipment and said: I thought this might help.He was lying.Not about everything. Not even about most things. But about the thing that mattered, he was lying with such thoroughness, such apparent goodwill, such structural confidence, that it took me two hours and three separate conversations with a colleague before I understood what I was actually looking at.Follow on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via PatreonThe folder was the tell. Not the contents of it.The folder itself.This episode is about what happens when the most cooperative person in the room is also the least trustworthy one. And what that teaches you about cooperation as a language.

There is a moment that happens before the story begins.Before the account is constructed. Before the solicitor arrives. Before the person has decided what they are going to say and how they are going to say it.It lasts about ten seconds.In those ten seconds the brain has not caught up yet. The machinery of managed language is not running. What comes out is produced by a system that is reacting, not planning.And reacting language, in my experience, is the closest thing to unfiltered truth that an investigator is ever likely to hear.This episode is about those ten seconds. What falls out of the mouth before the door has fully opened. What it tells you about everything that follows.And why it is almost impossible to take back.Follow on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

There is a script for grief.We all know it. We have seen it enough times to know what loss is supposed to look like.The problem is that grief does not look one way. It looks like everything. And one of the things it looks like is also what guilt looks like.Calm, in a room where you would expect devastation, is information. It is just not the information most people assume it is.This episode is about the absence of expected emotion. What flat affect actually means, what causes it, and why reaching for it too quickly as an explanation is one of the most dangerous things an investigator can do.It is also about a woman called Margaret. And six words she said, about forty minutes in, that told me everything I needed to know.Not about the case.About forty years of a person.Follow on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

There is a difference between someone telling the truth and someone managing it.It lives in the words they choose. The qualifications that create wiggle room. The sentences where the person disappears from their own account. The cooperative witness who knows too much about what you need before you have asked for it.Thirteen years of operational policing teaches you to hear that difference. A linguistics degree gives you the language to explain it.This is episode one.What deceptive language actually sounds like. Why the brain produces it without the person deciding to. And what it means once you can hear it everywhere.Which you will.Follow on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon

Some phrases sound careful.As far as I can recall. To the best of my knowledge. I believe that's correct.What they actually sound like, to someone trained to listen, is a door being quietly locked from the inside.As Far As I Can Recall is a podcast about language, truth, and deception. Thirteen years of operational policing across Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire, and British Transport Police. Time in CID. Rehabilitation work with men serving custodial sentences. A linguistics degree.What all of that gives you, eventually, is the ability to hear the gap between what someone says and what they mean.This podcast is about what lives in that gap.New episodes from 28 May 2026. Find us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and all major platforms.Follow on X: @AFAICRpodcastSupport via Patreon