Jon Burrows: Good intentions, dangerous laws - why the Conversion Practices Bill must be reconsidered
The Conversion Practices (Criminalisation) Bill is one of the most dangerous and ill-conceived pieces of proposed legislation I have encountered during my time in public life.
It demonstrates a growing problem at Stormont: Private Members' Bills conceived with seemingly noble intentions but drafted with insufficient regard for their legal consequences, practical application or unintended victims.
Let me establish something unequivocally. Discrimination, bullying, humiliation and degrading treatment directed towards anyone because of their sexuality or how they identify is reprehensible. Some of the practices historically inflicted upon people were obscene, cruel and indefensible.
Thankfully, society has progressed considerably. People deserve dignity, respect and protection from abuse. But good intentions do not automatically make good laws. And a noble objective is no excuse for dangerous legislation.
Having spent 22 years in policing, I understand the importance of precise criminal law. Citizens must know what conduct is prohibited, and the police must have clear, proportionate powers to investigate genuine wrongdoing. This bill falls dangerously short.
Consider what is being suggested. Rape is already among the most serious criminal offences, carrying a potential sentence of life imprisonment. Serious assaults involving electric shocks could constitute grievous bodily harm or other serious offences, depending on the circumstances. Unlawful detention, threats and harassment are likewise already addressed through criminal legislation. These are not behaviours awaiting the invention of a new criminal offence.
Indeed, the maximum sentence under this bill is just two years' imprisonment. Would anyone seriously suggest that corrective rape should be prosecuted under legislation carrying a two-year maximum rather than the existing law of rape, with its potential life sentence? Of course not.
Using these appalling crimes to justify the extraordinary breadth of this bill is therefore deeply misleading. The legitimate question is what additional conduct needs criminalised, and whether the proposed offences are sufficiently precise. The real danger lies in the bill's sweeping definitions.
It includes counselling, talking therapy, coaching and instruction. Its definition of coercive behaviour includes controlling, regulating or monitoring someone's daily activities, restricting their freedom of action, or making them feel punished or humiliated. It also defines psychological harm to include fear, alarm or distress.
Crucially is no requirement to prove that the accused intended to cause harm. Nor must the conduct necessarily be independently abusive.
Consider the fundamental distinction between coercive control in an adult relationship and responsible parenting. Confiscating a phone, monitoring social media activity, setting curfews, restricting clothing choices or deciding where someone may go could form part of coercive control between adult partners. Yet these very same actions, exercised appropriately, are often simply responsible parenting.
The distinction is fundamental. Parents have a duty to supervise, guide and protect their children. The law must recognise that parental responsibility is entirely different from controlling an adult partner. Children may become upset, anxious or distressed when boundaries are imposed. That does not make parenting abusive. Yet this bill borrows concepts from domestic abuse legislation without adequately distinguishing those fundamentally different relationships.
What happens when parents have sensitive discussions with a developing teenager about sexuality, gender identity, relationships or choices they believe could have lasting consequences?
A responsible parent may express disagreement, encourage caution or seek to guide their child. Whether particular conduct could fall within this legislation would depend on its purpose and circumstances, but the absence of an explicit parental safeguard creates unacceptable uncertainty.
Parents should not need a King's Counsel sitting at the kitchen table before having difficult conversations with their children. Nor should pastors, counsellors or other responsible adults have to fear that sensitive, sincerely expressed guidance might trigger allegations requiring police investigation.
The bill's sponsors point to a defence of reasonableness. But that misses the fundamental point. A defence raised in court is not the same as protection against being investigated, interviewed under caution, arrested or prosecuted in the first place. The process itself can inflict enormous reputational, financial and psychological damage.
Furthermore, the bill expressly excludes consent as a defence, even where the individual concerned is a willing adult. That raises serious questions about personal autonomy and the freedom of adults to seek voluntary advice consistent with their beliefs.
We must be exceptionally careful before allowing criminal law to intrude into private family life, religious freedom and legitimate personal conversations.
Criminal law should target genuine abuse, not create uncertainty around ordinary relationships and responsible guidance. This is not about defending conversion abuse. It is about defending proportionate legislation, fundamental freedoms and the rule of law.
In a forthcoming article, I will examine another deeply troubling Private Member's Bill concerning flags. Both illustrate a wider legislative problem: laudable ambitions pursued through poorly conceived laws whose consequences have not been properly considered.
The test of a good law is not how noble its intentions sound. It is whether it protects the public without criminalising conduct that should never have been criminal in the first place. On that test, this bill fails and Naomi Long MLA should instruct Eoin Tennyson to withdraw it.
Jon Burrows is leader of the Ulster Unionist Party