Dame Karen Bradley

This is a very difficult day. No one could fail to be moved by the grief of campaigners and by the deeply personal stories, whether born of their own experience or of those they have lost. Those voices deserve to be heard, and it is important in this place that we respect all views, whether we agree or disagree; but as we deliberate today, I go back to the words of the hon. Member for Bradford West (Naz Shah) in a past debate, asking us to remember “the quiet ones, those who may be less organised or not as powerful but who are none the less equally, if not more, important—the voiceless”.—[Official Report, 13 May 2026; Vol. 786, c. 11.] Those words resonated particularly strongly with me, because I had the privilege of serving 10 years ago as the Minister for Preventing Abuse, Exploitation and Crime—the first time that safeguarding brief had been brought under one Minister. It was so often the quiet voices that needed to be heard. It was the time I spent with victims that persuaded me that modern slavery was something we needed to legislate for. It was the time I spent with the victims of domestic violence, some of whom did not even want to admit that they were victims, that persuaded me we needed to do more and that we needed to legislate in this area. When I took the coercive control offence through Parliament, it was incredibly important. That is a very difficult offence; coercive control is not easy to prove or to find the evidence for, but it was so important that we did that. I remember speaking at an event not long after the legislation had gone through, where I explained that coercive control offence and what we were trying to do in Parliament. Afterwards, a woman came up to me privately, in tears, and told me that what I described had been her life some 30 years earlier. She had recognised eventually that she was a victim; so often victims do not recognise that they are victims, but she did recognise it. She had gone to the police, but because the offences were not violent or physical, they said that there was nothing they could do. They even said, “Lock the door and hope that he beats the door down, because then we could arrest him on criminal violence.” That was all they had. There was nothing they could do to help this woman. That encounter stayed with me, and it reminds me time and again that abuse is not always a single act. It can be the gradual erosion of somebody’s confidence, independence and sense of what choices are really theirs. Coercion to end one’s life may not come as an explicit threat. It may be the repeated suggestion that someone is becoming a burden.