Meghan Murphy

Feminists should fear the SNP’s hate crime bill

Scotland's Justice Minister Humza Yousaf (Getty images)

Already a subscriber? Log in

This article is for subscribers only

Subscribe today to get 3 months' delivery of the magazine, as well as online and app access, for only £3.

  • Weekly delivery of the magazine
  • Unlimited access to our website and app
  • Enjoy Spectator newsletters and podcasts
  • Explore our online archive, going back to 1828

A number of female MSPs and women’s organisations in Scotland have also voiced their objections. For Women Scotland said this new legislation could mean voicing opposition to gender identity ideology itself is now framed as ‘hate’ and criminalised as a result. This is bad news for feminists: in recent years, those who have challenged gender identity ideology have been labelled as hateful. Harry Miller, a former police officer from Humberside who was investigated by the police over tweets, is just one high-profile example.

In the end, though, the voices of protest counted for little; Scotland’s parliament overwhelmingly approved the legislation last week. And now women in particular could pay a heavy price.

As well as the problem with the lack of protection given to women, there’s also another broader issue with the hate crime bill. The focus on particular ‘identities’ deemed to be marginalised and therefore in need of protection from ‘hate’ could ultimately lead to the widespread curtailment of free speech.

The reality is that often ‘hate’ is a matter of opinion. I personally view the word ‘TERF‘ (trans exclusionary radical feminist) as one that exists to vilify, discriminate against, and target women with violence and harassment. Based on standard definitions, the word could count as hate speech. But my view is that we don’t need protection from words so long as we are free to respond with our own words. But will this new law allow Scots to do that?

As feminists wake up to the fact that they are now plausible targets of censorship, too many are failing to see and address the bigger picture. It’s vital that if we want to protect our own speech, we need to protect all speech — even speech we might view as ‘misogynist’, ‘racist’, ‘Islamophobic’, or otherwise offensive to our sensibilities (including the speech of those deemed to be ‘conspiracy theorists’, ‘anti-vaxxers’ or anti-abortion activists) and political views.

Bad, hateful, stupid, offensive speech might be upsetting — even harmful. But it is surely better to have the chance to discuss such ideas and words openly than live in a world where some topics of conversation, ideologies, beliefs, or arguments are off the table entirely?

While criminal acts should indeed be criminalised, no matter who the victim is, singling out protected groups based on identity has led to the Orwellian climate we face. Now, there is a danger that challenging certain ideas or sharing controversial opinions could be deemed to be ‘hate’ or ‘abuse’.

Feminists need to recognise that the problem is not simply that women are not included in this kind of legislation, but that labelling speech as ‘hate’ in a legal sense is the problem. Some feminists have demanded social media companies police anti-feminist or misogynist speech, only to end up on the receiving end of censorship when they wish to challenge gender ideology. 

Is the announcement that misogyny will be recorded as a hate crime by police in England and Wales – which has been celebrated by campaigners – really a good thing? While it might offer some extra protection to women, this kind of hate crime obsession is likely to backfire.

Too many feminists have failed to stand up for the speech of our political adversaries. I regret my own failure to do just that in the past. But the Scottish hate crime bill, which could easily be replicated in other countries, shows the danger of not speaking up for those we disagree with. Free speech is simply too important to allow that to happen.

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in