Hate crime

Amber Rudd’s speech on foreign workers at the Tory party conference has been reported to police as a hate crime. The Oxford professor who made the complaint said he took issue with what he described as the Home Secretary's discrimination against workers from overseas. The Home Office has hit back, saying the (now scrapped) suggestion that firms might be asked to say how many overseas staff they employ was not a hate crime. But the way in which police must deal with reports like this mean that if someone reports an incident as a hate crime, police are obliged to record it as such. And the row has provoked an angry reaction in the newspaper editorials this morning: The Daily Telegraph says this incident should teach Amber Rudd a lesson.

I’ve always been somewhat bemused by the concept of ‘hate crime’ - a phrase which first came into use in the US in the 1980s and into practice in the UK in 1998. I must say that the idea that it is somehow worse to beat up or kill someone because you object to their race or religion, than because you’re a nasty piece of work who felt like beating up or killing someone, strikes me as quite extraordinary - hateful, even, implying that some lives are worth more than others. Are we not all human, do we not all bleed? If we’re murdered, do not those who love us grieve for us equally? Why, then, are attacks on some thought to be worse than attacks on others?

How did mocking Islam become the great speechcrime of our times? Louis Smith, the gymnast, is the latest to fall foul of the weird new rule against ridiculing Islam. A leaked video shows Smith laughing as his fellow gymnast, Luke Carson, pretends to pray and chants ‘Allahu Akbar’. Smith says something derogatory about the belief in ‘60 virgins’ (he means 72 virgins). Following a firestorm online, and the launch of an investigation by British Gymnastics, Smith has engaged in some pretty tragic contrition. He says he is ‘deeply sorry’ for the ‘deep offence’ he caused. He’s now basically on his knees for real, praying for pity, begging for forgiveness from the guardians of what may be thought and said.

Should it be a crime to hate women? This unfortunate question is thrown up by the news that misogyny might soon become a hate crime across England and Wales. Two months ago, Nottingham Police launched a trial ‘crackdown on sexism’, investigating cases of, among other things, ‘verbal harassment’ and ‘unwanted advances’ towards women. Now top coppers from across the country are looking into criminalising misogyny elsewhere. I find this terrifying.

For 20 months, I stood accused of a hate crime: homophobically motivated common assault. The British Transport Police pursued my case with extraordinary zeal. So too did the Crown Prosecution Service. I was plunged into a world where common sense withered and died. The nightmare began when I was travelling home to London after a funeral in Kent. I was chatting with a friend on the train when a strange man started shouting at us from across the carriage. ‘Shut up!’ he yelled before accusing us of conducting a sexist and misogynistic conversation at high volume. This was, in his opinion, ‘offensive’. Brendan O'Neill and Kevin O'Sullivan discuss the real hate crime scandal: We were bemused.

So. As of last week, punching a goth is a political act in Greater Manchester, but not in Derbyshire. Sussex is still making its mind up. Odd, yes; funny, no. As you might have read, those police forces who now define assaults on goths as hate crimes have taken this decision in direct response, pretty much, to the murder of Sophie Lancaster, 20, kicked and beaten to death in 2007, clearly, utterly and solely because of her fashion choices. You can feel that horrible, horrible death already shutting down conversations, as horrible deaths are wont to do. So before it does, and without lessening its tragedy, and indeed, while declaring from the outset that I have always frankly felt a certain kinship with goths, let me say what plenty are thinking. Goths. I mean, come on. Goths.