The futility of Martyn’s Law

There have been few acts of terrorist violence on British soil as grotesque as the Manchester Arena bombing in May 2017. An Islamist extremist, Salman Abedi, detonated a bomb at an Ariana Grande concert killing 22 and injuring 1,017. An evening of enjoyment for hundreds of young people turned into a spectacle of wanton cruelty.

One of those who died was 29-year-old Martyn Hett. His mother, Figen Murray, has campaigned ever since for legislation to better protect potential victims of terrorism. This week the Commons debated the measure she has fought for – the Terrorism (Protection of Premises) Bill – to be known as Martyn’s Law. Murray’s immeasurable loss inspires natural sympathy, her tenacity compels admiration. But the law itself is the wrong measure targeting the wrong problem in the wrong way. It is sometimes difficult to see clearly through the tears of grief, but our legislators are paid to assess laws on their merits and efficacy, not use them as messages of condolence.

Martyn’s Law imposes onerous and costly regulatory requirements on civil society, requiring the volunteers who keep places of worship open and local entertainment venues thriving to become policed by another government regulator. Society’s little platoons become conscripts of the state. And the law does nothing to address the real state failures that have allowed terrorists to advance and their extremist allies to flourish. It is at best displacement activity, and at worst a privileging of emotion over reason in the fight against evil.

The bill obliges the operators of venues with a capacity of more than 200 people to take a series of bureaucratic steps to secure their buildings against theoretical terrorist attacks. The sheer number of venues that will be affected is boggling. It is not just major theatres and stadia which will have to comply.