My Lords, Clause 73(3) is the one and only reference in the Bill to the fact that the majority of victims of domestic abuse are female. This is therefore an important part of the guidance that should stand alone as fact, unencumbered. Also, adding in a link to
“any strategy to end violence against women and girls adopted by a Minister of the Crown”
seems far too open-ended politically. None of us here knows what the strategy might comprise. Will we agree with that strategy, and should we have blind trust in Ministers of the Crown? It seems like a rather unreliable hostage to fortune.
I am also nervous that this again takes us into the murky area of contested political explanations of domestic abuse, in the name of joining the dots. The Bill, rightly, gives both practical support to victims of domestic abuse, and criminal redress. Its job is not to supply a closed narrative. I am all for political debate on these issues, but statutory guidance could close down such a debate. There is a debate to be had on these matters, because we do not all agree—and we do not all need to agree—on the causes of violence against women or domestic abuse.
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As a generalisation, we can say that women have different and, sometimes, more negative experiences of dealing with public life than men. That does not mean that we can assume that all women share common experiences. Age, income, work, education and class
also shape women’s lives. One of the most regressive aspects of today’s identity politics is the tendency to assume that women’s experiences are undifferentiated, that any violence aimed at women is one type of violence and that women’s opinions about those experiences are uniform and easy to package up in a strategy. Take the way that Sarah’s kidnap and murder have been linked to victims of domestic violence, her name read out alongside the names of female victims killed in very different circumstances and then explained as proof that we are witnessing misogynistic femicide. That makes me feel queasy.
Not all women and female victims agree with the idea that all men are a threat or that all women are vulnerable and need protection. Sadly, if one challenges the dominant narrative, one can get an unpleasant response. When criminologist Professor Marian FitzGerald pointed out, on Radio 4’s “Today” programme, that women should not be unduly fearful, citing statistics such as 11% of women who are victims of homicide are murdered in public, compared to 33% of men, she was rounded on, denounced and abused—mainly by women activists, sadly—who accused her of downplaying the threat to women.
Similarly, Davina McCall, the TV presenter, wanted to temper quite a high-octane atmosphere on social media and tweeted to her 2.7 million followers that
“Female abduction/murder is extremely rare. Yes we should all be vigilant when out alone. But this level of fear-mongering isn’t healthy. And men’s mental health is an issue as well. Calling all men out as dangerous is bad for our sons, brothers, partners.”
I thought it a well-intentioned tweet, reasonable and humane—a sentiment that she shared in good faith. But it led to a Twitter pile-on, vicious and nasty diatribes, uncharitable headlines and the infamous accusation that Davina McCall was one of those women suffering internalised misogyny. I say this because it is not good enough just to say that we all know what we mean by the continuum of domestic abuse and violence against women and girls. It is more complicated than that.
During all stages of this Bill, noble Lords shared testimonies for the record and I will give my last words to Helena Edwards, one of Sarah’s friends who wrote an incredibly moving article that goes against the prevailing narrative but is worth listening to. This is what she said:
“As for us, her friends? Let us grieve for our loved one, brutally taken in such an awful way. The … misuse of it by those with an ‘agenda’ is not a comfort to us. As a 33-year-old woman, what will I take from this? I am reminded that life is short, and I will try to live mine to the full. Of course, I will be sensible and maybe take a few more taxis than I used to. But I will not live in fear. As soon as lockdown is over, I am going to go out, celebrate, get drunk with my mates in a pub … dance, laugh, cry, hug people and be grateful that I am alive.”
We all deal with tragedies differently. We are all entitled to draw different lessons from events. Sarah’s death has sparked a national conversation, but let us not allow it to become a one-sided monologue or an official strategy. Whatever one’s view, the rightful place for such debates is lively discussion in the public square, not statutory guidance. There is much to admire in this Bill on domestic abuse, but linking it to the strategy to end violence against women and girls is a hostage to fortune that does the Bill no service. In that spirit, I am opposed to this amendment.