🔴 Southport Disorder, AG Consent and the Hidden Legal Scandal

Recent commentary surrounding the prosecution of Lucy Connolly has focused intensely on the speed with which her case moved through the criminal justice system and, in particular, on the fact that consent for the prosecution was obtained from the Attorney General’s Office within hours.
For those who view the jailing of the Northampton childminder for “intending to stir up racial hatred” as unfair, these new details have been presented as evidence of political involvement or exceptional treatment, and as proof that the ordinary rules were suspended to secure a particular outcome.

This, however, misinterprets standard legal procedure and the ignores the precedent for expediting cases during periods of national disorder for legitimate law and order purposes.

And crucially, it overlooks the core objection that labelling her, and many others who opposed asylum and immigration policy, as “racist” , landing them with harsher sentences, was wrong.

Controversial legislation that includes national origin in the definition of race resulted in extra jail time for those found guilty during the Southport disorder.
This should be the focus for anyone questioning the fairness of her conviction as a “racist”.

Claims of political interference have focused on Lord Hermer, the Attorney General, and Prime Minister Keir Starmer, but they rest on a misunderstanding of the law governing these offences and its operation during periods of public disorder.

Connolly was charged with an offence contrary to section 19 of the Public Order Act 1986, which sits within Part III of the statute dealing with the stirring up of racial hatred. These prosecutions require the consent of the Attorney General as a mandatory procedural gate.
The Attorney General’s role in this context is analogous to a judicial authorisation in other situations.

When a judge grants a warrant to search premises suspected of containing stolen vehicles, their ‘approval’ is rarely frames as evidence of lack of due process driven by a wish to target the suspects. It reflects a professional judgment of the weight of the evidence, and a determination that the statutory threshold has been met and that the proposed search is lawful.
Criticism of such a decision must be framed in legal terms — that the test was wrongly applied, precedent misread, or the authorisation disproportionate — not on the basis that the outcome is unpopular or the decision-maker controversial.

Attorney General consent performs an equivalent function. It acts as a constitutional safeguard for speech-related offences, requiring a Law Officer to confirm that the statutory conditions for prosecution are satisfied before proceedings are instituted.
Operational decisions, including arrests, charging, and case strategy, remain with the police and the Crown Prosecution Service. Consent does not direct these decisions, nor does it allow the Attorney General to select defendants at will. It simply opens the gate for the prosecution to proceed lawfully.

The timing of that consent in August 2024 should be understood in context. Following widespread disorder, the criminal justice system was operating on an emergency footing.

Police, prosecutors, courts, and the Attorney General’s office were working extended hours, including nights and weekends, to process a high volume of cases arising from the unrest.
Requests for consent in qualifying cases were treated as urgent to prevent procedural delay and to ensure prosecutions were lawfully advanced. Obtaining consent from Lord Hermer within hours, even outside normal working days under the oversight of Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s government, is entirely consistent with standard operational practice during periods of civil disorder. It does not, by itself, demonstrate exceptional treatment, political urgency, or executive direction.

The same principle applies to case progression through the courts and sentencing. Accelerated listings are a recognised feature of the system when dealing with disorder, and the Sentencing Guidelines require courts to treat offences committed in such conditions as more serious.
Judges are bound to follow those guidelines unless doing so would be unjust. Severity or speed alone is not evidence of interference.

While debate has largely concentrated on procedural points — the consent, the speed, the timing — the more fundamental question is embedded in the legislation itself. Section 17 of the Public Order Act defines racial hatred as hatred against a group defined by race, colour, nationality, or ethnic or national origins. The inclusion of nationality materially broadens the scope of the offence. It is that drafting choice, rather than any exceptional application of procedure, which allows expressions that many would regard as political or offensive to fall within the ambit of criminal liability.

If reform is to be considered, it lies in reconsidering that statutory definition. Removing nationality from section 17 would narrow the offence and raise the threshold for prosecution, reducing the likelihood of cases such as Connolly’s arising in future.
If Parliament were to remove “nationality” from Section 17 of the Public Order Act 1986, conduct directed at individuals because of their national origin would no longer automatically count as racially aggravated. This would likely reduce the custodial terms of those convicted during the Southport disorder, where sentencing was lengthened due to the statutory racial element. It would also clarify the legal threshold for online commentary or political statements, ensuring prosecutions only apply to conduct falling within the statutory definition of racial hatred, while leaving ordinary criminal liability intact.

Until such change occurs, outcomes produced by the current framework remain legally orthodox, even if they provoke debate about fairness in the public or moral sense.

What Connolly’s case demonstrates, once the rhetoric is stripped away, is not a breakdown in legal process but the consequences of a legislative framework few scrutinise closely until it is applied. For those questioning her treatment, the most effective legal route is to engage with the law itself, rather than the procedures that implement it.