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Causing Death by Dangerous or Careless Driving: Sentencing
I thank my hon. Friend for securing this very important debate. Road safety is a key issue in my constituency, and he is absolutely right to say that the sentences should reflect these hideous crimes. Does he also agree that we must look at prevention? As part of that, will he encourage the Government to look at the introduction of graduated driving licences, which are a way of preventing these horrendous incidents from taking place? There is much international evidence that they save lives.
It is a pleasure to see you in the Chair, Sir John. I thank my hon. Friend the Member for Stroud (Dr Opher) for securing this debate.
When I became an MP more than five years ago, I entered this place with a very open mind about most things, which is perhaps just as well, including about to the role of the House of Lords. I did not feel strongly about the other place one way or the other, but since I have been an MP, I have developed not only a greater understanding of what the Lords do and how they do it, but quite a deep respect for the important role that they play in our democracy. I am supportive of a second Chamber. I believe in an upper House. It scrutinises and revises. It brings fresh eyes, new ideas and, if I may be so bold, decades of experience and expertise. It can make our legislation stronger and our democratic process more robust.
There have been many examples of that over the years. The Domestic Abuse Act 2021 was strengthened in the Lords, where an amendment introduced a new offence of non-fatal strangulation, closing a gap that had let abusers escape charges. Similarly, Cross-Bench and Opposition peers spearheaded amendments to create a powerful new corporate criminal offence to prevent fraud in the Economic Crime Act and Corporate Transparency 2023, in a significant moment in the fight against economic crime. That is what good revision looks like. It is responsible lawmaking.
However, I come to this debate with direct experience of when the second Chamber has sadly not behaved responsibly or appropriately. As the sponsor of a private Member’s Bill—I think it is fair to say a reasonably well-known piece of legislation, the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill—I ended up spending a significant amount of time in the Lords.
Following months and months of hard work in the Commons, including countless meetings with outstanding civil servants from the Department of Health and Social Care and the Ministry of Justice, a comprehensive Bill Committee that heard from nearly 50 witnesses, and powerful and emotional debates on Second and Third Readings, the Bill made its way to the Lords. It had had over 100 hours of scrutiny. It was examined line by line. It was amended and strengthened, and it passed the elected Chamber with a clear majority on both occasions. Yet despite a clear majority of elected MPs, having engaged at length with their constituents and taken the <span id="368WH" class="column-number" data-column-number="368WH"></span>issue extremely seriously, voting to send the Bill to the other place, what happened next was not what most MPs, however they voted—and more importantly, the public—either expected or deserved.
I was very grateful to the peers who engaged in meaningful scrutiny and discussion about the Bill, and there were many of those. I was in awe at times of their experience and expertise, and it was a pleasure working with them. In some instances we disagreed, but we did so respectfully. Myself and Lord Falconer, the sponsor of the Bill in the other place, were open to making changes to strengthen the legislation. There were amendments that we were happy to accept, and we engaged with peers in good faith. However, nearly 1,200 amendments were tabled. As my hon. Friend the Member for Stroud said, around half of them came from just seven peers. Looking at the content of many of those amendments, which were inappropriate and at times cruel, it was clear to many that some peers intentionally used every tool at their disposal to bring the legislative process to a standstill.
As we know, the other place, unlike the Commons, is self-regulating. There are no selection of amendments or time limits, so every amendment tabled is likely to be debated. There was seemingly a desire from some peers to slow the process down and disrupt the usual legislative process. In the House of Commons we did our job, but given the shocking example of the amendments tabled in the House of Lords, the same simply cannot be said of the other place.
One peer spoke for four hours and 41 minutes. That is longer than “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King” extended edition—a great film, but not the most succinct piece of cinema. I say that not to be disrespectful to the other place, but to ask a simple question: was that responsible behaviour and were Members there fairly and professionally carrying out their role as the second Chamber? I think not.
Then there is the cost. The Lords debate on the Bill cost the taxpayer over £1.7 million in attendance allowances—public money spent so that a Bill could go nowhere. The public have every right to expect good value from their institutions because we work for them. I do not think that anyone can say with a clear conscience that that was a good use of taxpayers’ money.
We also have to look at the make-up of the Chamber: 26 bishops sit in the House of Lords. I have no problem with religion per se, but nobody elected them. They sit solely because of the position they hold. The only other country in the world that gives clerics seats in its legislature in that way is Iran. In a modern, multi-faith, increasingly secular society, is that fit for purpose? We need a second Chamber that supports and challenges.
If I may say so, it is quite a leap of faith to go from the comments I was making about the unelected Chamber to the Church of England, for which I have the utmost respect. I have worked with many people of faith on an agenda around cohesion <span id="369WH" class="column-number" data-column-number="369WH"></span>and the need to bring our communities together—something that I am sure the hon. Member would fully support.
In a multi-faith and increasingly secular society, is it right to have unelected faith leaders in our second Chamber? The Prime Minister himself said:
“I don’t think we can justify half of our national legislature being unelected. I think this is something that is, in many ways, quite scandalous… If you want to cut the cost of politics, that’s the first place to look.”
He has also spoken about his desire to rewire how power works in this country, but we surely cannot do that without looking at the role of the House of Lords. I agree with the Prime Minister and I agree with my hon. Friend the Member for Stroud: we need a national commission into the future of the House of Lords. I am pleased to speak in support of that today.
The right hon. Lady is making a very important point, which I have considered at length during the last two years. Many amendments relating to coercive control were made to the Bill to ensure that all professionals involved have training, and there are multiple checks for coercion throughout the process, which do not currently exist. At present we check for coercion only when someone is dead.
<Question HRSContentId="{6B9C1004-9CE6-4A60-B064-064683B56B4C}">Q9. <QuestionText HRSContentId="{29ACE42B-9D63-4832-BDB2-00BCDD1E5E6A}"></QuestionText>Thank you, Mr Speaker, and welcome back. I also welcome the Prime Minister to his role. We have many shared passions—sport, music, and a deep sense of community. I know we both have a strong desire to ensure that everyone in our country has a sense of pride, identity and belonging—that everyone feels safe and no one feels lonely—but sadly, that is not always the case. What steps is the Prime Minister taking to support people in communities such as Spen Valley who may feel isolated or are dealing with antisocial behaviour such as speeding and dangerous driving, inappropriate use of e-scooters and offroad bikes, and fireworks, to give residents confidence that their concerns are being taken seriously?</Question>
I thank the Minister and shadow Minister for their beautiful and thoughtful opening remarks, and I thank colleagues and friends from across the House for attending this debate, during what I know is a busy time in politics—it was ever thus. I also thank the many colleagues who have contacted me to let me know that, sadly, they could not be here due to other commitments. Their messages have been gratefully received.
Today, 10 years since her murder, we gather to remember Jo. Jo Cox was, yes, an MP, and that is how many people do and always will think of her. But while being an MP is of course a very important job, like all of us Jo was so much more. She was a daughter, a mum, a wife, a <span id="481" class="column-number" data-column-number="481"></span>colleague, a friend to many in this place and far beyond, and she was my sister. She was a very special person who embodied compassion, courage and an unwavering belief in the goodness of people. She was a woman who dedicated her life to public service, to fighting injustice and to bringing people together.
Helen Joanne Leadbeater—I know, who knew?—was born at Dewsbury and District hospital in West Yorkshire in 1974. She did not come from privilege or a political dynasty; she came from ordinary roots, and she carried with her throughout her life a deep understanding of ordinary people’s struggles, hopes and fears. We had a great childhood—nothing fancy or posh, but always surrounded by love, family and friendship. We had two wonderful parents who gave us the freedom and space to find our own way in life, and the support and stability to develop the confidence to do so. We had a close-knit family and a wide-ranging group of friends. And, of course, we had each other.
I have reflected a lot on our childhood over the last decade and I am so lucky to have an abundance of happy memories. The early years: walking to school, climbing trees, pretending we were in the A-Team, making up dance routines to Wham! and playing out until it was dark and we got called in for our tea. The teenage years and beyond: exams, holidays, parties, boyfriends. On more than one occasion I have been very grateful for there being no camera phones back then; I am not sure that either of us—or possibly any of us here today—would have ever had a career in public life if there had been. We certainly had plenty of fun.
Jo and I also had instilled in us a core set of values and beliefs. Our parents taught us to treat everybody with respect, kindness and empathy. They taught us simple principles, like treating people how you would wish to be treated; listening to different views and perspectives; compromising when necessary and agreeing to disagree; and, in true Yorkshire style, how sometimes, if you do not have anything good to say, to just keep your gob shut. These things were not drilled into us—they were more inherently included as part of everyday life, and they stayed with us both throughout our lives.
We were always both incredibly interested in other people and always had lots of questions when we met someone new. From a young age, we took great pleasure in hearing stories of people from a wide range of backgrounds. The differences were not a focus, but nor were they invisible; they were to be cherished and celebrated.
Jo was genuinely one of the nicest people you could hope to meet, but she was not naturally confident—she was actually very shy when we were kids. I am always really honest about this when I speak to people, particularly young people and often women, because sometimes when we see successful people in public life, we assume that they have always been really confident and self-assured, with no self-doubts, hang-ups or anxieties. In my experience, that is often not the case—and it is certainly not for me and it was certainly not for Jo. When we were teenagers, she would ask me to ring up to order the takeaway or check the bus timetable.
Over the years, Jo worked incredibly hard to overcome her fears and doubts. She made no secret of the difficulties she had settling into life at Cambridge University. As a <span id="482" class="column-number" data-column-number="482"></span>working-class northerner, it felt like a world away from life in West Yorkshire, much like this place, in many ways. We missed each other desperately and both felt acutely lonely, but in true Jo style, she stuck it out and battled on. She was very grateful for the education that she received and, more importantly, for the strong friendships she made.
Before entering Parliament, Jo spent years working on humanitarian causes, helping vulnerable people around the world. She worked for organisations that sought to alleviate poverty, defend human rights and support those devastated by conflict and disaster. Her politics were never rooted in power or glory. They were rooted in empathy and humanity. When she became the MP for Batley and Spen in 2015, she brought that same humanity into public life. She spoke passionately about loneliness, inequality, refugees and community cohesion. She believed politics should improve lives, not inflame hatred. Perhaps her most famous words, from her maiden speech in this place, capture her entire philosophy: her belief, as has been said,
“that we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.”<span id="vol596_col675" class="cross-reference" data-house-id="1" data-column-number="675" data-volume-number="596">—[<em>Official Report</em>, 3 June 2015; Vol. 596, c. 675.]</span>
It speaks to something essential in our society—something that in recent times we seem to be seriously at risk of forgetting.
I could talk all day about how great Jo was—and she really was—but you need only to look at the many tributes that came in from across the world when she was killed to see that for yourself. It is always very important for me to remember that it was Jo, and more specifically her murder, that brought me to this place, and all of us together today.
Jo was murdered on 16 June 2016, just one week before the Brexit referendum and a week before her 42nd birthday. Jo had worked in some of the world’s most dangerous countries, but she was killed not in some distant place or in a war zone, but on the streets of her constituency, while carrying out her democratic duty as an elected representative, 10 minutes from where we live. Jo’s murder shocked the nation, it horrified the world, it left our family utterly bereft and it left two small children without their mum.
Those children are of course Jo’s most important legacy, and I am delighted to report that they are doing brilliantly. They are very like Jo in so many ways and they are annoyingly good at everything. They are musical, they are sporty, they are academic and they are really nice human beings. When they come up to Yorkshire, we try to find something that we can beat them at—and we fail every time. They are very much in my thoughts today and every day. As a family, we have ensured that they have been bathed in love for the last 10 years, just as Jo would have wished, and they are thriving as a result.
We have worked incredibly hard as a family to stay positive and strong, and we have been supported by so many wonderful people who have done so many amazing things in Jo’s name, which I will come to, but this year I feel that we also need to address more directly why Jo was killed. We must be honest about the atmosphere in which Jo’s murder took place. The Brexit referendum was one of the most divisive periods in modern British history. People were encouraged to see each other not as neighbours with differing opinions but as enemies. Public <span id="483" class="column-number" data-column-number="483"></span>discourse became increasingly toxic, fear was weaponised, anger became political currency, complex issues were reduced to slogans and compromise was portrayed as weakness.
Of course, disagreement is part of democracy, debate is healthy and passion in politics is natural—Jo would be the first to say so—but what developed at that time went beyond disagreement and became something much darker. Social media amplified outrage. Politicians and commentators often chose confrontation over understanding, because division attracted attention. Entire communities were fractured. Families argued, friendships broke down and trust in institutions collapsed. In that climate, hatred found oxygen.
I thank my hon. Friend for that intervention. It is lovely that she, a fellow Yorkshire MP, is with us today. I absolutely agree with her. We can reflect on that time in 2016—to me, a lot of it is a blur—but to say that Brexit was responsible for Jo’s murder would be simplistic and untrue. There is one individual who committed that heinous crime: a far-right neo-Nazi, whose evil act was his and his alone. However, things do not happen in a vacuum, and we cannot ignore the broader social and political atmosphere that surrounded it. Toxic rhetoric, scapegoating and the dehumanisation of opponents all contributed to a society under immense strain.
Words matter. The language we use in politics matters, because language shapes culture and culture shapes behaviour. When people are constantly told that others are traitors, enemies, invaders or threats to the nation, eventually some individuals begin to believe that hostility and violence are justified. Tragically, we have seen that again in recent weeks and days. We must all call it out. That is why remembering how and why Jo was killed matters so deeply. If we reduce her death to an isolated act, we learn nothing. If we refuse to examine the environment of anger and polarisation that surrounded it, we fail both her memory and our democracy.
Sadly, a decade later, many of the same forces are still with us—perhaps even stronger. Today, polarisation dominates public life. Across politics, media and online platforms, people are increasingly pushed into opposing camps. Nuance disappears, and every issue becomes a battle. Every disagreement becomes moral warfare. We see a growing blame culture in Britain. When the economy struggles, when public services let us down, when communities feel left behind, someone must be blamed— <span id="484" class="column-number" data-column-number="484"></span>migrants, politicians, the poor, the rich. The young blame the old, the old blame the young, cities blame rural communities, rural communities blame cities, and through all of that we risk losing sight of our shared humanity.
Social media algorithms reward outrage, because outrage keeps people engaged. News cycles thrive on conflict, because conflict generates clicks and views. Politicians can gain more support more easily by telling people who to fear than by offering difficult and complex long-term solutions. This constant division creates loneliness, mistrust, resentment and cynicism. It makes people feel unheard and angry. It encourages us to see one another not as fellow citizens, but as opponents to be defeated. That is dangerous for any democracy. A healthy society cannot survive if its people stop believing in one another.
I also want to pay tribute today to Sir David Amess—another colleague and friend to many in this place—who was murdered by an Islamist extremist in 2021. His family and friends have been very much in my thoughts in recent weeks. We cannot allow ourselves to be divided by the evil actions of ideological extremists, whatever sick views they are peddling. So the question becomes: what do we do about it? How do we honour the memory of Jo, not just with words, but with action?
In the past 10 years, we have seen an abundance of action in Jo’s name. In the face of the worst of humanity, we have seen the very best of it, in so many ways, including of course through the work of the Jo Cox Foundation—the charity set up by Jo’s family and friends in the months after she was killed. It works on issues as diverse as the protection of civilians in conflicts, such as in Syria; the promotion of women in all aspects of public life—it is great to see so many sisters here today; on loneliness and isolation; and on the related work to build closer and stronger communities at home and abroad.
The trailblazing work that Jo started on loneliness resulted in the world’s first ever Minister for loneliness—my good friend and colleague, Tracey Crouch—and the first ever Government strategy on loneliness. The UK is still seen as a world leader on this really important subject, and I strongly urge the Government to update the cross-departmental strategy to ensure that we do not lose that reputation.
The hon. Lady is absolutely right. That is a testament to Jo’s empathy—something that we could all learn from in this House.
I think about what happened in Jo’s constituency of Batley and Spen after she was killed. An amazing group of volunteers came together under the “more in common” banner to ensure that our community was not torn apart by Jo’s murder. It is a non-political group made up of people from a wide variety of backgrounds who, <span id="485" class="column-number" data-column-number="485"></span>on the surface, may appear to have very little in common. It is a strange and somewhat dysfunctional family, but it works. We have seen groups like it across the country, and they achieve some fantastic things, which Jo would have loved. The Great Get Together is at the heart of this work, and the perfect opportunity to demonstrate the “more in common” ethos in action.
It was an absolute joy to be pulling a pint with my hon. Friend this morning in the Strangers Bar—just to be clear, we did not drink it. I am grateful to everybody involved in the Great Get Together beer. Through it, we have shown the power of the pubs, clubs and venues that we all have in our constituencies, where people can come together and share a drink, share a conversation, cross lines of division and have a good old time, because the Great Get Together is also about having fun. I remind colleagues that they are all invited to the Great Get Together event in Speaker’s House next Wednesday after Prime Minister’s questions. We will be catered for by Batley’s finest, Fox’s Biscuits, and I hope Members can join me.
Thousands of events take place across the Great Get Together weekend. Friendships are formed, bridges are built and communities are united in a way that is rarely seen, and nowhere more so than in Jo’s beloved West Yorkshire. We have organised rugby matches, bake-offs, iftars, coffee mornings and the annual Run for Jo, when hundreds of people run through the woods at Oakwell Hall in Birstall, and there is live music, food and entertainment. It is not about the running; it is about the coming together of families, friends and strangers alike.
This year’s Run for Jo takes place on Sunday 21 June, and the good news is that all Members are invited—woo-hoo! I believe that you will be down for it, Madam Deputy Speaker. People do not have to run—they can just come and enjoy the day—but I hope that they come up to Yorkshire, even if only to take part in my cheesy ’80s aerobics warm-up, in which I get to revisit my previous career as a fitness instructor. Leg-warmers and leotards are always very welcome.
We also have the beautiful Jo Cox community wood in Spen Valley and the Jo Cox Way bike ride, which sees cyclists travel 280 miles from Yorkshire to London every summer. We have the Jo Cox sixth-form centre at Heckmondwike grammar school, which Jo and I attended and where mum and dad met and fell in love. We have the Place Jo Cox in Brussels and the Rue Jo Cox in Avallon in France—Jo’s legacy spreads far and wide.
So much has been done over the last 10 years to remember Jo and to ensure that her name and her values are never forgotten, but, as Jo herself would say, <span id="486" class="column-number" data-column-number="486"></span>there is undoubtedly always more to do, and I believe that we can and must all play our part. We must rebuild respectful dialogue. We need to rediscover the ability to disagree without hatred. Democracy depends on argument, but it also depends on mutual respect. Someone who votes differently from us is not automatically ignorant, wrong, evil or beyond redemption. We must resist the temptation to caricature entire groups of people. We must challenge toxic rhetoric wherever it appears.
I thank my hon. Friend and could not agree with her more. No one is pretending that we do not have challenges or that there are not difficult issues to tackle, but that is not the story of our country. The story of our country is all the amazing people we are elected here to serve and who are doing brilliant things in our communities across the whole country. That makes it even more important that we challenge toxic rhetoric wherever it appears. That responsibility belongs to everyone, including politicians, journalists, broadcasters, online influencers and ordinary citizens alike. We cannot stay silent when language becomes dehumanising or inflammatory. Freedom of speech is vital, but it comes with moral responsibility.
We have to invest in our communities. Polarisation grows when people become isolated from one another. Strong communities create empathy, because they bring different people together. Local organisations, youth groups, charities, libraries, sports clubs, faith groups and community centres—all of which we have in our constituencies—play a vital role in strengthening our social bonds. When people know each other personally, hatred becomes much harder to sustain.
We must also teach critical thinking, political education and media literacy, which are really crucial parts of our education. We live in an age of misinformation, manipulated outrage and online echo chambers. Young people especially need the tools to navigate a world in which anger spreads faster than truth.