Why our Human Rights Act matters
This piece was written for the June issue of Poverty, before the Bill of Rights Bill was presented to Parliament on 22 June. You can find out what stage the Bill is at now at the British Institute of Human Rights website. You can find out BIHR’s key concerns and all of our resources since the Bill was published here.
At the British Institute of Human Rights (BIHR), our mission is to create social justice through human rights approaches and advocacy. Our aim is shared with the aim of our Human Rights Act: to create a culture of respect for human rights across the UK. We want to make human rights the hallmark of all our everyday interactions with government and public officials, whether that’s in health or housing, policing, social security or education, so that human rights are not simply about court action, but more about how we do things in the UK.
On Tuesday 10 May, the UK government set out its plans for the upcoming parliament in the Queen’s Speech. This year there is more to be concerned about than ever, with almost 40 hastily‐drafted Bills announced. Lots will seriously impact on our human rights, none more so than the new Bill of Rights replacing our Human Rights Act. At the time of writing, we haven’t seen the details. We only know what was in the consultation paper, which (unlike any consultation I've seen before) was a confusing mix of questions, non‐questions, politicised points and partial information. It largely ignored a public consultation and the recommendations of a panel of independent experts (put together by the government itself), and instead based the shaky and often contradictory case for reform on the same arguments Justice Secretary Dominic Raab put forward in his 2009 book An Assault on Liberty.
Our Human Rights Act exists to set limits on state power. It is the law which says that the state must treat people with dignity, respect and without discrimination. It is also the law which says that other laws and regulations (like the ‘bedroom tax’) have to be applied in a way that is compatible with human rights. What we heard in the Queen’s Speech is that the government plans to rewrite that law. This is the equivalent of marking your own homework, if your homework was to set equality and human rights standards for the UK.
It is a terrifying scenario and part of a wider context of political attacks on accountability: the Nationality and Borders Bill, the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Bill and the Elections Bill. This is a government intent on shutting down avenues of accountability.
Every day in my job at BIHR, I see how our Human Rights Act is supporting people to be heard and reach respectful, dignified decisions that matter in their daily lives. Sadly, this lived experience is rarely part of the debate in the UK, conveniently ignored by this government, and yet these are real‐life stories of how our Human Rights Act is working for people. These are the voices we amplified in our response to the government’s Human Rights Act reform consultation.
Kirsten was one of those who took part; she shares her experience* below.
*Please note that the experiences described include inhuman and degrading treatment of people by mental health services staff.
Why our Human Rights Act matters to Kirsten, a single parent of an autistic son.
Kirsten’s son was held in mental health hospitals from age 14 to 18 and subjected to restrictive practices, including mechanical restraint and long periods in seclusion.
I used to wonder if he called for me, if he wished I was there to help him. When I knew he was in seclusion I wanted to sleep on the kitchen floor, I couldn’t bear my comfortable bed or my sofa, the TV or my book. Because I knew he was alone in the dark and I wasn’t there for him.
The Mental Health Act gave legal powers to put my child in a seclusion cell for weeks at a time. It gave powers to put my child in metal handcuffs, leg belts and other forms of mechanical restraints. It gave powers to transport him in a cage from one hospital to another. My child was not a criminal, he was in distress, frightened and alone. The Mental Health Act gave powers to deny contact between us, to take away his mobile phone, access to a computer, his contact with the outside world.
As a parent, the Human Rights Act gave me the legal framework to challenge decisions. This was so important for me as a parent facing the weight of professionals who seemed to have so much power over my life and my son’s life. I used the Human Rights Act to make timely and meaningful change to my own son’s care and treatment. Some of the challenges I made led to my involvement in changing national policies, particularly around the use of seclusion and segregation with children. I’m now proud to be involved in designing and delivering human rights training to staff working within CAMHS inpatient settings.
Eventually, just before his 18th birthday I managed to secure my son’s discharge with a bespoke package of care. He now lives happily and independently in his own home and is attending college.
Kirsten’s story of struggle with public services is devastatingly not unique, showing how crucial our Human Rights Act is. You can read her story and lots of other stories about the power of our Human Rights Act to create social justice in our blog series called ‘Why Our Human Rights Act Matters’ at bihr.org.uk/blogs/why‐our‐humanrights‐act‐matters. If you’d like to write a blog of your own, you can get in touch with Helen Walden at [email protected].
You can find out more, hear from experts and read our detailed concerns in our response to the government’s consultation on our Human Rights Act Reform Hub at bihr.org.uk/human‐rights‐act‐reform.