Lord Wei (Con)

My Lords, I rise to speak to Amendments 502YN and 502YR, which stand in my name. These amendments are bound by a common theme: that the powers we create in this Bill must be effective, proportionate and accountable, not only in ordinary times but in moments of crisis, when authoritarian temptations grow stronger. Amendment 502YN would establish an annual review of all measures introduced by the Bill. Each year, the Secretary of State would be required to test whether those measures are achieving their stated purpose, and whether they are doing so without imposing unnecessary or disproportionate burdens on parents, children, schools, providers, local authorities or the department itself. Where a measure fails, it should be amended or repealed. If no action is taken, within two years it must lapse. This is about accountability cutting both ways. Families, schools and community groups—huge numbers of stakeholders—are being asked in this Bill to account for children’s education. It is only fair that the Government should account for the laws they pass. We have been warned many times in these debates about the dangers of excessive bureaucracy and mission creep. Clause 31, the proposed register of children not in school, illustrates this risk. In principle, such a register may help identify who is being educated outside mainstream settings. In practice, the Bill demands far more data than is needed. In Portsmouth, more than 70% of home-educated children have already been served notices or orders annually, compared with a national average closer to 1%. That is not proportional oversight; it is overreach. The effects ripple outward. Children suffer when teachers, social workers and SEND staff are forced to spend more time filling in forms than supporting them, and parents are treated with suspicion, not because of evidence of harm but because they made a lawful choice to educate differently. Schools themselves may be dragged down by compliance checks that drain morale and resources. Providers and tutors may be chilled by one size fits all rules designed for large institutions but applied indiscriminately. Community groups and charities—often the lifeline for struggling families and children—will find scarce volunteer time consumed by licensing and paperwork. We have seen where such unchecked bureaucracy leads. The contact point database was launched with the best of intentions to safeguard children. It collapsed under its own weight: disproportionate, unworkable and ultimately abandoned. Scotland’s named person scheme likewise promised protection but in practice extended excessive authority and intrusive data collection before being struck down. These are cautionary tales of what happens when there is no obligation to review and no sunset clause to cut away what does not work. Yet the risks are not only of inefficiency; there is something deeper. Bureaucracy when excessive is not neutral. It becomes a means of control. It erodes freedom, not by open coercion but by endless demands that exhaust and intimidate until families, schools and communities yield. That is why Amendment 502YR is so important: it recognises that powers created in good faith can one day be misused. It would require that, within six months of Royal Assent, the Secretary of State ensures that a mechanism is ready so that, in any national emergency or period of authoritarian governance, the courts, not Ministers, retain the final authority to uphold the primacy of parental rights in their children’s education. We cannot ignore the geopolitical context. Across Europe and beyond, we see the rise of extremes on both left and right. Authoritarian Governments rarely declare themselves at the outset; they grow by increments, often beginning with education. They use registers and guidance powers, not to support families but to control them. They impose ideological curricula, marginalise communities of faith and stifle innovation and dissent in the classroom. Disturbingly, elements of this Bill draw inspiration, whether knowingly or not, from an unlikely and troubling source. The original departmental human rights justification cited to justify state intervention in home education here arose from a case in Germany where a home-educating parent was prosecuted under laws dating back to the 1930s. These laws, introduced under Hitler’s regime, continue today to ban home education outright in Germany. It is sobering that our own debates now echo arguments first made to defend a system designed not to protect children but to eliminate educational pluralism—one that our own national wartime Government in the 1940s sought to fight by giving parents the ultimate say over their children’s education. We must not follow that path. We must not allow powers framed as safeguards to evolve into machinery that stifles freedom. This is not to deny the state its proper role in protecting children. Safeguarding is vital, but safeguarding fails when systems chase compliance instead of risk: when form filling replaces human judgment, when bureaucracy itself becomes the end rather than the means. In such a climate, children most in need are overlooked while families acting responsibly, and schools, are burdened and alienated. The two amendments before us are modest disciplines against such outcomes. The first creates a feedback loop: Parliament learns from the real-world impact of its laws and corrects course where necessary. The second ensures that, when times grow dark, there is a constitutional anchor, that courts can guard against authoritarian misuse, ensuring that parental primacy in education is never extinguished by bureaucratic or dictatorial creep.