Andrew Rosindell

I beg to move, That this House has considered the impact of the Equality Act 2010 on British society. As always, it is a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship, Dr Allin-Khan. I welcome the opportunity to bring to the Floor of the House the issue of the impact on British society of the Equality Act 2010, a topic that I believe is increasingly being raised not only by my constituents in Romford, but more widely across the United Kingdom by people whose lives are affected on a daily basis because of this legislation. It has also been the subject of detailed research in the recent report from the think-tank Don’t Divide Us, which was co-authored by Dr Alka Sehgal Cuthbert and Dr Anna Loutfi, and which I commend to Members of all parties and to the wider public. For centuries, our common-law tradition has been at the vanguard in the defence of what we consider our liberties as Britons. Ushered in 900 years ago and emboldened by Magna Carta in 1215, common law enshrined the once revolutionary principle that all individuals are equal before the law, judged not as members of groups, but as subjects of the Crown, with inherent rights. From that tradition came trial by jury, which has its origins in Anglo-Saxon England, habeas corpus and the presumption of innocence. Were those gifts from Brussels or Strasbourg? Of course not. They are the hard-won fruits of our own history and the innovative quality of our forebears and the generations that have come before us. When the Equality Act was passed in 2010, we were told by the now Baroness Harman that it would end discrimination, give everyone a fair chance in life and bring transparency. Those are fine words indeed, yet they give the impression that Parliament can, through sheer willpower, eliminate some of the more damaging and derisive aspects of human nature. Fifteen years on, the reality is, I am sad to say, very different. The Act has not united our country; it has divided it. It has not reduced discrimination; it has fuelled grievance. It has not strengthened our traditions of fairness; it has undermined them. In fact, it has fanned the very flames that it sought to extinguish. In the first instance, the Act is woefully drafted. Let us take as an example the alleged definition of race. Section 9 defines that as including, but not limited to, “colour; nationality; ethnic or national origins.” That is imprecise and confusing and has generated a grey area in law. Simply put, it is a poor expression of parliamentary intention, whatever that was at the time. We are also seeing absurd contradictions. Section 13(5) bans racial segregation, yet guidance under the Equality Act allows organisations to create separate spaces based on combinations of protected characteristics. In practice, that could mean the state sanctioning racial segregation in Britain in 2025, all in the name of equality. The Act and the imported ideology that underpins it have created a culture of division and victimhood. It is the legislative foundation of what today is called DEI—diversity, equity and inclusion—and the ever-expanding industry of woke training sessions and quotas.