"In the areas of security and liberty many would argue (and I agree) that there has been too much legislation," wrote Charles Clarke last week.

Some may experience a sense of vindication reading this but I believe the proper reaction is nearer scorn, for the article contains neither concession nor apology, but is merely an attempt to reposition Labour before the next election. That is clearly a waste of time, and what we should be doing instead of sifting the ashes of New Labour is concentrating on Conservative plans for this country, which at the moment lack definition and clear expressions of principle. Still, Clarke is a thoughtful, politically energetic man, and what he is saying in this twilight moment is still of interest, even though it is enough to bring you out in hives.

He argues that Labour has essentially got things right, but that the attack on liberty, which he concedes by implication has taken place, was the result of excessive zeal. Retrenchment and simplification – a touch on the tiller – are all that is needed. He seems to acknowledge the hostility to Labour's record and the reasons for it but only suggests rationalisation in response.

Clarke believes in the theory of experimental legislation, whereby a law is made and later adapted if it is found to be operating poorly or is being abused. The imperfections of this approach are plain to see – it takes a long time to persuade government to revise laws. Almost all the function creep that we have seen over the last few years – for instance the use of the Protection from Harassment Act to control legitimate protest, the use of terrorism laws to prevent photography – is the result of poorly drafted law that has no more purpose than declaring the government's intentions or desires on a particular issue. Bad writing and sloppy thinking are at the heart of the attack in liberty.

Like Blunkett, Straw and Reid, Charles Clarke is an incorrigible statist with a background in far-left politics. He has never grasped the truth that good government can only exist where there is a balance between government power and individual freedom. For people like him the wisdom of the state is unquestionable: anyone who points to government inefficiencies or doubts the merit of its decisions becomes an enemy, not of the government, but of the state. It is an arrogance that has grown to a point where Labour politicians simply cannot distinguish between their own interests and the needs of the state. And yet Clarke argues that the effect of Labour legislation has been to reduce the power of the executive and diminish parliament.

This is not a joke. After listing the investment in CCTV and the DNA database, the Human Rights Act, the Regulation of Investigative Powers Act (Ripa), the Freedom of Information Act and the Data Protection Act, he says this:

Most of this legislation was opposed by the Conservatives and supported by the Liberal Democrats. Its overall effect has been to strengthen the judiciary at the expense of the legislature, to weaken the executive, to empower the media and to discredit the political process. Despite these unwelcome consequences, I continue to believe that the changes were right in principle and should not be reversed.

No one can doubt the deep effects of Labour's "reforms" but to maintain that the executive has suffered in the last 12 years is absurd. And of course parliament was written out of the picture by a dictatorial prime minister and by a government that relied on patronage, thuggish whipping, the unprecedented use of the guillotine to cut short debate, a reduced parliamentary timetable and a big increase in un-debated secondary legislation. This didn't just happen: it was part of a calculated policy to deny debate and scrutiny, which was enforced throughout the long Labour years. To suggest that this was unintended consequence of the laws he cited is pathetic.

When at the Home Office, Clarke could never really understand that the judiciary was not taking part in the execution of government policies. He was constantly arguing that he should be able to negotiate with the judges and find some way of working with them, which he is still harping on about in this article.

The implications of the new supreme court and the way in which the Human Rights Act has worked in practice require an open discussion between the judiciary and the legislature, particularly to clarify where responsibilities for security lie.

The rebuke that Lord Steyn, the former law lord, gave him in 2005, still stands. "Judges are not the servants of the government," Lord Steyn said.

We swear an oath to the Queen as head of state, our duty lies to the public, not the government. I think in all these complaints about how the judges are not being helpful enough they must remember we are emphatically not on the same side.

Clarke never understood this, just as he and Jack Straw, to name another of the chief villains in the attack on liberty, do not really get the difference between state and government and do not comprehend the importance of individual freedom.

But maybe I am being unfair. Perhaps Clarke has an inkling of the destruction that has taken place: in the concluding paragraphs of this piece he returns to muse about the ID cards scheme and databases.

Labour should reject proposals for further radical change in the areas of security and liberty. Our priorities should be to put the constitutional judicial system on a sound footing; to consolidate and revise existing counter-terrorism legislation; to continue reducing crime through more modern policing (including a more rational structure of police forces and more consistent partnership working); and to revise our identity and data protection legislation to put the rights of the individual at the centre.

There is nothing radical in this, because he is only suggesting that people are given access to their data. He does not question whether the state should collect or use it. He does not challenge all the rubbish talked about "identity management" because he cannot get his head round the idea that the state does not have entitlement to our information.

When I read this piece I wondered how the author squares his account of the past 12 years with what is happening in the news.

In recent weeks we have learned about the spying on innocent members of the Asian community that is conducted under the Prevent programme; the secret database of innocent demonstrators maintained by police; the DNA and isotope testing of asylum seekers to establish race and origin; the vast expansion of Criminal Records Bureau checks, which we are told this week is likely to spread to all large firms; the shocking mistreatment of artists, writers, musicians and academics at our borders because of new visa laws; the imprisonment of innocent children whose parents are seeking asylum, the seizing of assets from elderly and mentally impaired by the little-known court of protection; the huge increase in prosecutions of ordinary law-abiding people caught by the thousands of new criminal offences created by Labour; and the continuing expansion of databases, the latest of which will demand 53 pieces of information before a British citizen is allowed to travel abroad.

I could go on. Every month there are literally hundreds of stories that tell of the damage that Labour has wrought on the delicate structures and traditions that used to be called Britain's free society. Clarke and his friends are responsible for this degradation and so, yes, he is right when he says that there has been too much legislation in the areas of liberty and security. But it is also the understatement of the decade.