DHL v Ignatowicz: When Facebook, Workplace Grievances and the Law Collide

An EAT judgment that exposes the uneasy frontier between employee expression, employer control, and the limits of reinstatement

Some cases arrive at the Employment Appeal Tribunal like a slow‑burning fuse. DHL Services Ltd v Ignatowicz [2026] EAT 74 is one of them: a dispute that begins with a frustrated warehouse worker posting his grievance on Facebook and ends with a forensic examination of contributory fault, reinstatement, and the uncomfortable question of how far an employer must tolerate an employee’s public outbursts.

The Case in Context: A Modern Parable of Social Media and Employment Law

The story begins in a familiar place: a worker, disappointed by a failed internal job application, turns to Facebook to vent. But Pawel Ignatowicz’s posts were not the usual gripes. They were sprawling, quasi‑political, sometimes religious, sometimes conspiratorial, and occasionally threatening. One post declared that “capitalist dictatorship is evil and has to be destroyed”; another hoped that God would “destroy [his] enemies”; another warned scammers and “other enemies” that they had “diged the graves for [their] own children.”

The Employment Tribunal (ET) found these posts troubling but ultimately concluded that DHL’s dismissal was unfair. Why? Because the employer’s process was sloppy, the policies unclear, and the investigation superficial. The ET ordered reinstatement and applied only a 10% deduction for contributory conduct.

The EAT, however, took a very different view.

1. The Tribunal’s Errors: A Failure to Grapple With the Real Issues

The EAT’s judgment is, in essence, a polite but firm dismantling of the ET’s reasoning. The ET had treated the case as if it were a simple matter of an employee posting a grievance online. But the EAT emphasised that the posts were not merely reproductions of a grievance—they were embellished with inflammatory language, historical analogies involving massacres, and repeated references to “enemies” being destroyed.

The ET’s first major error was its superficial treatment of contributory conduct. It focused only on the fact that the grievance had been posted publicly, ignoring:

the additional inflammatory language (“capitalist dictatorship is evil and has to be destroyed”)
the 9 June post invoking God to destroy his enemies
the 15 July post warning that enemies had dug “the graves for [their] own children”
the August posts threatening to repost everything unless reinstated
the later litigation‑related comments comparing managers to Nazis and “satanic bitches”

The EAT held that the ET should have analysed each of these posts separately under the two statutory regimes:

s.122(2) ERA (basic award): conduct before dismissal, whether or not known to the employer
s.123(6) ERA (compensatory award): conduct that caused or contributed to the dismissal

The ET had done neither properly.

2. Reinstatement: The Tribunal’s Second Major Misstep

Reinstatement is the most intrusive remedy an employer can face. It requires the tribunal to consider:

Does the employee want reinstatement?
Is reinstatement practicable?
If the employee contributed to their dismissal, is reinstatement just?

The ET had treated reinstatement as if it were simply a matter of logistics—could DHL physically put him back in the warehouse? Yes? Then reinstatement is “practicable”.

But the EAT reminded the ET of a crucial principle: practicability is not about logistics; it is about trust and confidence.

The ET had failed to ask the key question:

Does the employer genuinely and rationally believe it can no longer trust the employee?

Given the posts comparing managers to historical mass murderers, invoking divine destruction of enemies, and later calling managers “satanic bitches”, the EAT found it astonishing that the ET had not engaged with the trust issue at all.

The ET had also wrongly treated contributory conduct as relevant only to practicability, rather than to the separate statutory question of whether reinstatement would be just.

3. The EAT’s Core Message: Social Media Misconduct Must Be Taken Seriously

The EAT’s judgment is not a moral condemnation of Ignatowicz. It is a legal correction. It emphasises that:

Social media posts are not insulated from employment consequences.
Tribunals must analyse each post individually.
Threatening, abusive or destabilising language—even if not naming the employer—can legitimately undermine trust.
Reinstatement is exceptional, not a default remedy.

The EAT also flagged an issue the ET had ignored entirely: the qualified right to freedom of expression under Article 10 ECHR. This will now have to be considered on remission.

4. The Human Dimension: A Worker in Distress, an Employer Out of Its Depth

One of the striking features of the case is the claimant’s evident distress and disorientation. His posts reference “paranormal occurrences”, conspiracies, and divine intervention. He appears to have been struggling with cybercrime victimisation and mental health issues. The ET was sympathetic to this context.

But sympathy cannot replace legal analysis.

The EAT’s judgment implicitly recognises that employers are not mental‑health professionals. They must make decisions based on workplace safety, reputation, and trust. When an employee publicly posts material that colleagues find frightening or destabilising, the employer’s concerns are not irrational.

5. What Happens Next?

The case is remitted to the same ET, but with a very different task:

Reassess contributory conduct properly
Reassess reinstatement in light of all posts, including those made during litigation
Consider Article 10 freedom of expression
Evaluate whether DHL can genuinely and rationally trust the claimant

Given the later posts involving violent imagery and abusive language, the prospects of reinstatement now appear remote.

Conclusion: A Case About Boundaries—Legal, Personal, and Digital

DHL v Ignatowicz is a modern employment‑law parable. It sits at the intersection of:

employee free expression
employer reputation
mental health
social media’s porous boundaries
the limits of reinstatement as a remedy

The ET had treated the case as a simple unfair dismissal. The EAT recognised it as something more complex: a breakdown of trust fuelled by online behaviour that the employer could not reasonably ignore.

In the end, the judgment is a reminder that employment relationships are built on confidence—and that once confidence is shattered, tribunals cannot simply will it back into existence.

By Pat Harrington

Five Days to Appeal: How a Flawed HR Convention Became a Barrier to Workplace Justice — And Why ACAS Must Act

There are many small injustices in the modern workplace — the quiet, procedural ones that rarely make headlines but shape the daily reality of workers facing disciplinary action. Among the most persistent is the widespread employer practice of giving workers just five working days to appeal a disciplinary outcome. It appears in policy after policy, as if it were a fixed rule of employment law. It is not. It has no statutory basis and no foundation in case law. Yet it is treated as gospel.

This arbitrary deadline has become so normalised that many workers assume it must be legally mandated. In truth, it is nothing more than a managerial convenience that has hardened into convention — a convention that routinely undermines fairness, equality, and access to justice.

At our most recent AGM, Solidarity members recognised this problem and passed a motion committing the union to campaign against the five‑day norm. It is a commitment rooted in both principle and lived experience, and it deserves to be taken seriously.

A Deadline Without a Law

The first and most important fact is this: no UK law requires a five‑day appeal window.
The Employment Rights Act is silent on appeal deadlines.
The Equality Act is silent on appeal deadlines.
ACAS — whose Code of Practice tribunals take into account — does not mandate five days.

ACAS guidance simply states that employees should appeal “as soon as possible or within the time period set out in the employer’s procedure.” That is all. The oft‑quoted “five working days” appears only in non‑binding examples, not in the Code itself. It is not a standard. It is not a requirement. It is not even a recommendation.

ACAS also says nothing about disciplinary minutes — nothing about when they must be provided, nothing about whether the appeal clock should start only after they are received. This omission is striking, because in practice many workers receive the outcome letter before they receive the minutes. They are expected to appeal a decision without access to the record of what was said. No fair‑minded person could consider that reasonable.

Where Five Days Really Came From

If the five‑day rule is not law, where did it come from?
The answer is depressingly simple: HR templates.

For decades, large HR consultancies have produced standardised disciplinary procedures for employers. These templates — designed primarily for managerial convenience — often included a five‑day appeal window. Over time, this figure became embedded in employer‑side “best practice” documents and was repeated so often that it acquired an aura of legitimacy.

But repetition is not justification.
A convention is not a principle.
And managerial convenience is not fairness.

Why Five Days Is Not Enough

A disciplinary outcome can be life‑changing. It may affect a worker’s job, income, reputation, mental health, and future employability. Yet employers routinely expect workers to:

absorb the decision
request and review the minutes
gather evidence
seek union representation
obtain medical or occupational health information
prepare written grounds of appeal

…all within five working days.

This is unrealistic for anyone — and impossible for many.

Workers who are stressed, anxious, or traumatised by the process are disadvantaged.
Workers with caring responsibilities are disadvantaged.
Workers without immediate access to a rep are disadvantaged.
And disabled and neurodivergent workers — who may need more time to process information, gather medical evidence, or communicate effectively — are systematically disadvantaged.

Under the Equality Act 2010, a rigid five‑day deadline is a Provision, Criterion or Practice (PCP). If it places disabled workers at a substantial disadvantage, employers must make reasonable adjustments. Yet most disciplinary policies say nothing about adjustments and instead sometimes rely on vague “management discretion.” , if they mention anything at all. Discretion is not compliance. Adjustments are not optional.

A deadline that cannot flex is a deadline that discriminates. This should be stated clearly in any employer disciplinary policy.

Appeals Are a Safeguard, Not a Sprint

The right to appeal is not an administrative nicety. It is a fundamental safeguard against flawed investigations, procedural errors, bias, and disproportionate sanctions. A right that cannot be exercised meaningfully is not a right at all.

Many unionised workplaces already use 14 days as standard — and nothing collapses. Employers continue to function. Processes continue. Justice is better served. The only thing that changes is that workers get a fair chance to defend themselves.

What ACAS Should Do: Time for the Guidance to Catch Up With Reality

If the five‑day appeal window has become entrenched across UK workplaces, it is partly because ACAS — unintentionally — has allowed ambiguity to flourish. While ACAS does not mandate five days, and does not prohibit longer deadlines, its guidance contains two structural weaknesses that employers routinely exploit:

It offers “five working days” without proper context or caveat.
It says nothing about disciplinary minutes and how that affects when the appeal clock should start.

This silence has consequences. Employers treat the example as a ceiling, not a floor. They treat the absence of rules about minutes as permission to delay them. And they seldom reference Equality Act compliance or its affect on time limits.

Solidarity believes ACAS should now take responsibility for closing these gaps.

1. ACAS should require that the appeal period begins only once the worker has received both the minutes and outcome.

Natural justice demands that workers see the record of what was said. ACAS should state that:

minutes must be provided promptly
the appeal window begins only after the worker receives them and the outcome
delays in providing minutes automatically extend the deadline

3. ACAS should incorporate Equality Act duties directly into its disciplinary guidance.

ACAS should state that:

fixed deadlines are a PCP
employers must consider reasonable adjustments
adjustments are a legal duty, not a matter of discretion
policies must explicitly reference this duty

4. ACAS should recommend a default appeal window of at least 14 calendar days.

This is already standard in many unionised workplaces and poses no operational difficulty.

5. ACAS should update its guidelines to reflect modern, evidence‑based practice.

The five‑day figure comes from outdated HR templates, not fairness. It should be replaced with a timeframe grounded in accessibility, equality, and justice.

ACAS guidance shapes employer behaviour. When the guidance is vague, outdated, or silent on key issues, workers suffer. Solidarity’s position is simple:

ACAS should not merely reflect common practice — it should lead it.
And it should lead it in the direction of fairness, accessibility, and equality.

Solidarity’s Mandate for Change

At our AGM, members passed a motion recognising:

that the five‑day deadline has no legal basis
that it originates from employer‑centric templates
that it disproportionately harms disabled, unwell, and unsupported workers
that meaningful access to justice requires adequate time

The AGM resolved that Solidarity will:

adopt 14 calendar days as our bargaining position
produce guidance for reps on challenging short deadlines
campaign publicly and privately for employers to abandon the five‑day norm
support members who miss deadlines by arguing for extensions on equality and fairness grounds
review disciplinary policies across recognised workplaces and target those with unreasonable appeal windows

This is not symbolic. It is a practical commitment to improving procedural fairness for every worker we represent.

A Call to Employers: Fairness Is Not an Administrative Burden

Employers often defend the five‑day rule by claiming they need “certainty” or “efficiency.” But fairness is not the enemy of efficiency. Rushed appeals create more disputes, more grievances, and more legal risk. If an employer can take weeks or months to schedule a disciplinary hearing, they can wait 14 days for an appeal.

A fair process protects everyone — including the employer.

A Call to Workers: You Deserve Time, Dignity, and Justice

If you are facing a disciplinary outcome, you deserve:

time to understand the decision
time to seek advice
time to gather evidence
time to prepare a proper appeal

You deserve a process that recognises you as a human being, not a box to be ticked.

Solidarity will continue to fight for that — in negotiations, in campaigns, and in every workplace where our members are subjected to unreasonable deadlines.

Five days is not enough.
It never was.
And together, we can change it.

By Pat Harrington

Single‑Sex Spaces and the EHRC Draft Code: Law, Balance, and the Politics of Clarity

Introduction

The Equality and Human Rights Commission’s updated Draft Code of Practice for Services has now been laid before Parliament. Although the Code applies formally to service providers rather than employers, its implications reach far wider. In a political climate where questions of sex, gender, and rights are often weaponised, the Code attempts something unfashionable: clarity.

This article explores what the Code says, why it matters, and how a recent tribunal case — LS v NHS England (2026) — illustrates the legal principles in practice.

What the Draft Code Is — and Isn’t

The Code provides guidance on how the Equality Act 2010 applies to:

Service providers
Public functions
Associations

It does not apply to employers (yet), though the EHRC has confirmed that updated employer guidance is forthcoming.

A statutory code — but not law

The Code is issued under section 14 of the Equality Act 2006. This means:

It is not itself law
Courts and tribunals must take it into account where relevant
It carries significant persuasive authority
It explains the law; it does not create new legal obligations

This distinction matters. The Code is a tool for clarity, not a vehicle for policy‑making.

Why the update?

The new draft incorporates over a decade of legal developments, including:

The Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013
Case law refining the definition of disability
Case law clarifying the threshold for philosophical belief protection
The Supreme Court’s ruling in For Women Scotland v Scottish Ministers (2025)

The definition of “sex”

In For Women Scotland, the Supreme Court held that, for the purposes of the Equality Act, “sex” refers to biological sex, not self‑identified gender. The EHRC explicitly cites this judgment as a reason for updating the Code.

This is foundational. It anchors the Code’s approach to single‑sex services in biological reality, not self‑identification.

Single‑Sex Services: What the Code Clarifies

Under Schedule 3 of the Equality Act, organisations may lawfully provide:

Single‑sex services
Separate‑sex services
Mixed‑sex services

The updated Code expands guidance on how to determine whether a single‑sex service is proportionate and justifiable.

The EHRC recommends that organisations:

Record their reasoning for providing (or not providing) a single‑sex service
Maintain a clear policy on how single‑sex services will be delivered
Consider the impact on all protected groups, not just one
Ensure decisions are evidence‑based, not ideological

Parliament now has 40 days to consider the Code. If no objection is raised, it will come into force.

Why This Matters for Employers Too

Although the Code is aimed at service providers, the principles inevitably spill over into employment contexts — especially around:

Toilets
Changing rooms
Accommodation
Privacy‑sensitive facilities

Employers will need to conduct the same kind of balancing exercises the Code describes. The EHRC has already said employer‑specific guidance is on the way.

Case Study: LS v NHS England (2026)

A recent employment tribunal judgment provides a real‑world example of how these principles apply.

The Facts

The employer had a policy allowing trans women to use female‑only facilities. The claimant — a female Muslim employee — objected and brought claims of:

Indirect sex discrimination
Indirect religious discrimination
Disability discrimination
Harassment related to sex
Harassment related to philosophical belief (gender‑critical)

The Tribunal’s Key Findings

The tribunal held that:

1. The policy amounted to indirect sex discrimination

Women, and particularly Muslim women, were placed at a disadvantage. Less discriminatory alternatives existed — such as providing alternative or gender‑neutral facilities for trans staff.

2. The policy amounted to harassment

The claimant’s gender‑critical belief is protected under the Equality Act. The employer’s approach created an environment that violated her dignity.

3. The employer’s balancing exercise was inadequate

The organisation consulted:

LGBT networks
Disability networks
BAME networks

But did not consult women’s networks or faith‑based groups.

This selective consultation was fatal to the policy’s legality.

4. The decision is not binding

As a first‑instance judgment, it does not create precedent. But it aligns with a growing body of case law emphasising the need for careful, documented balancing.

The Principle: Balance, Not Ideology

The Equality Act protects both:

Sex
Gender reassignment

Neither characteristic automatically overrides the other. The law requires proportionality, not absolutism.

Single‑sex spaces exist for reasons of:

Privacy
Dignity
Safety
Cultural and religious observance

They are not acts of exclusion but of legitimate protection.

The tribunal’s criticism of NHS England is instructive: You cannot claim to balance rights if you only listen to one side.

Reactions: A Divided Landscape

The updated Code has prompted strong reactions across the political and organisational spectrum.

EHRC’s position

The EHRC has framed the Code as:

A neutral, legally grounded document
A tool to help organisations navigate competing rights
A response to significant legal developments, not a political intervention

The Commission emphasises that clarity benefits everyone — service providers, users, and courts.

Women’s and gender‑critical groups

Many women’s organisations and gender‑critical campaigners have welcomed:

The reaffirmation of biological sex in law
Stronger guidance on lawful single‑sex services
The emphasis on documentation and proportionality

They argue that the Code restores confidence in the Equality Act’s original intent.

LGBT and trans‑advocacy organisations

Some LGBT groups have expressed concern that:

The Code may lead to more exclusion of trans people from services
Providers may adopt over‑cautious or restrictive policies
The emphasis on biological sex could undermine existing inclusion practices

They have called for close monitoring of how the Code is applied in practice.

Employers and unions

Many employers and unions are seeking:

Clearer guidance on workplace facilities
Practical examples of lawful policies
Support in conducting balancing exercises that respect all protected groups

The LS v NHS England case has sharpened awareness of the risks of incomplete consultation.

What Organisations Must Do

Whether you are a service provider or employer, the message is clear:

1. Document your reasoning

If challenged, you must show your decision‑making process.

2. Consult widely

Not just LGBT groups — but women’s groups, faith groups, and others affected.

3. Provide alternatives

Gender‑neutral facilities can reduce conflict without undermining single‑sex provision.

4. Respect philosophical belief

Gender‑critical views are protected under the Equality Act.

5. Avoid blanket policies

The law requires case‑by‑case proportionality, not ideological commitments.

A Moment for Clarity

The EHRC’s draft Code is not a political statement. It is an attempt to bring legal clarity to a highly contested area.

In a debate often dominated by slogans, the Code insists on:

Evidence
Reasoning
Documentation
Balance

That alone makes it significant.

Conclusion

The updated EHRC Code and the LS v NHS England judgment together mark a shift toward greater legal clarity on single‑sex spaces. They reaffirm that equality is not achieved by erasing difference but by recognising it responsibly.

For unions, employers, and service providers, the task is to apply these principles with care — balancing rights, consulting widely, and documenting decisions. In doing so, they uphold not only the law but the deeper principle of fairness that underpins it.

By Maria Camara

Dancing on the Edge of “Information”: Capeling v TFX Group Ltd [2026] EAT 57

Some cases arrive at the Employment Appeal Tribunal like thunderclaps, reshaping doctrine or unsettling long‑held assumptions. Others arrive quietly, almost modestly, but leave behind a sharper understanding of the law’s boundaries. Capeling v TFX Group Ltd is firmly in the second category: a small case with a precise point, a reminder that whistleblowing protection is not a catch‑all shield but a carefully defined statutory mechanism with limits that matter.

At its heart, this appeal was about a single question: when does a workplace concern cross the line from a vague complaint into a protected disclosure? The answer, as the EAT makes clear, is not when the claimant believes it should — but when the law says it does.

The Story Behind the Appeal

Mrs Capeling had been employed as a National Sales Manager from March to September 2022. Her dismissal was abrupt — immediate, with only a week’s wages in lieu of notice — and justified by the employer as a response to poor performance. She, however, saw a different narrative: one in which she had raised concerns about health and safety, only to be punished for speaking up.

This disclosure, according to the claimant, was a warning that the company lacked written contracts with certain Dispensing Appliance Contractors (DACs), and that this absence was putting patient safety at risk — a risk she suggested might even be deliberately concealed.

She brought claims of automatic unfair dismissal and detriment for making protected disclosures. Three alleged disclosures were put forward, but by the time the case reached the EAT, only one remained in dispute: the so‑called third disclosure.

It sounds dramatic. It sounds like the kind of thing whistleblowing law was designed to protect. But the Tribunal — and later the EAT — were not persuaded.

The Legal Fault Line: “Information” vs. “Allegation”

The Tribunal’s reasoning, upheld on appeal, turned on two deceptively simple points.

1. The claimant did not disclose “information”

The EAT agreed that what the claimant provided was essentially:

a factual statement: some DAC contracts are missing, and
a broad, unparticularised assertion: this is putting health and safety at risk.

The Tribunal was entitled to conclude that this second part — the health and safety claim — was too general, too unsubstantiated, to amount to “information” under the statutory test

Whistleblowing law draws a line between:

information (which can qualify), and
allegations (which often do not).

A protected disclosure must convey facts, not just fears. It must tell the employer something concrete, not simply gesture toward a risk.

2. Any belief in a health‑and‑safety link was not reasonable

Even if the claimant genuinely believed that missing contracts endangered patients, the Tribunal found — and the EAT accepted — that this belief was not reasonable for someone in her position, with her knowledge of the business.

This is a crucial point. Whistleblowing protection does not require the worker to be right, but it does require them to be reasonably wrong. A belief that is speculative, unresearched, or disconnected from the worker’s actual role will not suffice.

Why This Case Matters

On the surface, Capeling is a narrow decision. But beneath it lies a broader message about the architecture of whistleblowing law.

1. The law protects disclosures, not anxieties

The claimant’s concern may have been sincere. But sincerity is not the test. The law demands specificity: facts, details, something that can be investigated. A generalised “this could be dangerous” will rarely be enough.

2. Reasonableness is contextual

The Tribunal looked at the claimant’s role, her knowledge, and the nature of the contracts. It concluded that she lacked a reasonable basis for linking missing paperwork to patient harm. This is a reminder that whistleblowing protection is not a free‑floating right — it is tethered to what the worker actually knows and can reasonably infer.

3. The EAT will not rescue weak appeals

The judgment is crisp, almost brisk. The EAT saw no error of law, no misdirection, no misapplication of the statutory test. The appeal was dismissed without ceremony.

The Human Story Beneath the Legal One

What lingers after reading this case is not the legal test — though that is important — but the human texture beneath it.

A worker dismissed abruptly. A belief, perhaps honestly held, that she was raising something important. A sense of injustice that propelled her through the Tribunal and into the EAT. And then the cold clarity of the law: not every workplace concern is a protected disclosure, and not every dismissal following a complaint is whistleblowing retaliation.

There is a melancholy to cases like this. They remind us that employment law is not a moral tribunal; it is a statutory framework with defined thresholds. The claimant may have felt she was doing the right thing. The Tribunal may even have believed she acted in good faith. But good faith alone is not enough.

The law asks:
What did you say?
What did you know?
And was your belief reasonable?

In Capeling, the answers did not meet the statutory bar.

Conclusion: A Small Case with a Sharp Edge

Capeling v TFX Group Ltd will not make headlines. It will not reshape doctrine. But it will sit quietly in the background of future whistleblowing cases, reminding lawyers and claimants alike that:

vague assertions are not disclosures,
belief must be grounded in reason, and
the law protects information, not speculation.

It is a case about boundaries — the boundary between concern and disclosure, between belief and reasonable belief, between dismissal and protected dismissal. And like all boundary cases, it sharpens the edges of the law.

By Pat Harrington

The Case for a Shorter Working Week: A Necessary Change

For more than a century, every major advance in working time has followed the same pattern: workers demand change, employers resist it, the right‑wing press declares it impossible — and then, once won, society quietly accepts it as common sense. The eight‑hour day, the weekend, paid holidays, maternity leave: all were once dismissed as utopian fantasies. Today they are the bedrock of modern working life.

The campaign for a shorter working week — including the four‑day week — sits squarely in that tradition. And as the Morning Star reported from the CWU conference on 13 May 2026, the movement is gathering real momentum.

Delegates packed into a fringe meeting to hear how unions can push the issue forward. Phil Lindsey of the Four Day Week campaign reminded workers that the backlash we see today is nothing new. As he put it, the scepticism in the right‑wing press “mirrored the long demolished arguments over the five‑day week a century ago.” The same tired warnings, the same manufactured panic, the same insistence that workers must accept exhaustion as the price of economic survival.

But history is not on the side of the sceptics.

A shorter week is not radical — the status quo is

CWU T&FSE’s Mel Wilson cut through the noise with a clarity that resonated far beyond the conference hall. “A shorter working week isn’t radical,” she said. “What’s radical is expecting workers to absorb constant change, rising pressure and longer demands without giving them anything back.”

That line captures the heart of the debate. The real extremism is the idea that work should expand endlessly while wages stagnate, stress rises, and the boundaries between labour and life dissolve. The radicalism lies in the demand that workers simply endure more — more pressure, more surveillance, more targets, more burnout — while receiving less in return.

Wilson went further: “This campaign is about fairness. It’s about dignity. It’s about balance. It’s about taking back control of our time.” In those words is the essence of trade unionism: the fight not only for pay, but for the quality of life that pay is meant to support.

The economic case: productivity follows wellbeing

The evidence from global trials is clear. When workers have more rest, more autonomy, and more time to live their lives, productivity rises. Absenteeism falls. Staff retention improves. Creativity increases. Companies save money. Workers gain time.

This is not a zero‑sum game. It is a rebalancing of a system that has drifted into dysfunction.

Phil Lindsey pointed out that “at the start of 2027, there’s two big names starting trials of a four‑day week as a result of worker campaigns hard for but well won.” That matters. When major employers shift, the political and cultural landscape shifts with them. What was once fringe becomes feasible. What was once feasible becomes inevitable.

The social case: time is a public good

A shorter working week is not only an economic reform — it is a social one. It strengthens families, supports carers, improves mental health, and gives people the time to participate in civic life. It reduces carbon emissions by cutting commuting. It opens space for education, volunteering, and community involvement.

In an age of rising loneliness, collapsing public services, and fraying social bonds, time is not a luxury. It is infrastructure.

The political case: workers must set the agenda

The labour movement has always been strongest when it articulates a vision of the future, not merely a defence of the present. The shorter working week is such a vision — a concrete, winnable demand that speaks to millions of workers who feel squeezed, exhausted, and unheard.

The CWU delegates understood this. The packed fringe meeting was not just a discussion; it was a signal. Workers are ready for this fight. They know that the economy is not a natural force but a human creation — and that working time is a political choice.

As Wilson told the room: “If we organise and build across every workplace, we can win this.” That is not rhetoric. It is a strategy.

A movement whose time has come

The shorter working week is not a dream. It is a practical, evidence‑based reform supported by workers, economists, and forward‑thinking employers. It is a response to a world where technology has increased productivity but the benefits have not been shared. It is a corrective to decades of intensification and burnout. It is a demand rooted in fairness, dignity, and the belief that life should be more than labour.

The CWU conference showed that the movement is no longer theoretical. It is organised. It is growing. And it is winnable.

The question is no longer whether we can afford a shorter working week.
The question is whether we can afford not to win it.

By Maria Camara

May Day Message from our General Secretary

May Day reminds us why workers organise.
This year’s global theme — ensuring a healthy psychosocial working environment — speaks directly to what our members face every day: excessive workloads, chronic understaffing, burnout, and the pressure to be “always on”.

During a recent back to work meeting I attended with a member, the manager described their workplace as an ‘American style’ company that thrives on high stress, as if that intensity were a badge of honour. Our union always politely challenges these wrong-headed notions (although I’m sometimes tempted to tell them where to put their American practices!) Here in Britain, we value a different approach, grounded in the Equality Act and the belief that a supportive and inclusive work environment leads to well-being and better outcomes. Personally, I see the idea that high stress boosts productivity as a a dangerous myth. In truth, a healthier and more balanced atmosphere leads to more sustainable success.

Solidarity stands with every worker who is carrying more than they should.
We stand with those fighting for fair pay, safe staffing levels, reasonable hours, and the right to disconnect.
And we stand with those in insecure work who deserve the same protections as everyone else.

On May Day, we honour the generations who fought before us — and we commit to building workplaces where dignity, safety, and mental wellbeing are not optional extras but basic rights.

Solidarity today. Solidarity every day.

Pat Harrington

St George’s Day: Work, Identity, and the Quiet Politics of a Missed Holiday

St George’s Day arrives each year with a strange kind of weightlessness. England’s flags appear in pub windows, schoolchildren draw dragons, and local councils put on modest parades — yet the country works straight through its own national day. It is a celebration observed in spirit but not in structure, and that tension has become increasingly relevant to British trade unionists.

In recent years, unions have begun to use 23 April as a moment of strategic emphasis. When the RMT timed industrial action for St George’s Day, it wasn’t a coincidence. It was a deliberate act of political framing: if this is England’s national day, why is it treated as indistinguishable from any other Tuesday? The strike sharpened a question that has been lingering for years — what does it mean to celebrate a nation symbolically while refusing to honour it with a shared day of rest?

This is where the debate over a St George’s Day bank holiday becomes more than a cultural curiosity. It becomes a conversation about labour, identity, and the value placed on collective time.

The Argument For a St George’s Day Bank Holiday

Supporters of a new bank holiday tend to circle around three themes: cultural parity, worker wellbeing, and the reclamation of English identity.

First, parity. England is the only nation in the UK without a public holiday for its patron saint. Scotland rests on St Andrew’s Day; Wales marks St David’s Day; Northern Ireland embraces St Patrick’s Day with full civic confidence. England’s absence stands out. For many, this is not about nationalism but about balance — the idea that England should be able to celebrate itself without embarrassment or hesitation.

Second, the value of rest. Trade unionists see the potential for a meaningful pause in a country that has fewer public holidays than many comparable nations. A St George’s Day holiday would offer workers a collective moment to breathe, reflect, and reconnect. In an era of rising workloads, burnout, and the erosion of work‑life boundaries, the symbolism of a shared day off matters. It says something about what a nation values.

Third, reclaiming the flag. English identity has often been left to the margins, claimed by fringe groups or politicised in ways that make ordinary people wary of embracing it. A national holiday could help re‑anchor the flag in inclusive civic pride rather than exclusionary rhetoric. It would give England a day that belongs to everyone — not just those who shout the loudest.

The Argument Against a St George’s Day Bank Holiday

Opponents of the idea tend to focus on economic caution, political hesitancy, and the risk of symbolic distraction.

The economic argument is straightforward: an additional bank holiday disrupts productivity, places pressure on public services, and creates costs for businesses already under strain. Governments of different stripes have used this reasoning to avoid committing to the idea.

The political argument is subtler. English identity is a sensitive terrain. Governments often prefer to gesture towards it rather than legislate around it. A bank holiday risks becoming a lightning rod — too nationalistic for some, not nationalistic enough for others. The result is a cautious refusal to engage.

The symbolic argument comes from within the labour movement itself. Some union voices argue that a holiday, while welcome, does not address the structural issues workers face: pay erosion, unsafe conditions, insecure contracts, and the steady intensification of work. A day off, they warn, must not become a substitute for meaningful reform.

Why Trade Unionists Care

For trade unionists, St George’s Day is not simply about flags or folklore. It is about the politics of time. A nation that cannot pause for its own celebration is a nation that has not yet reconciled its identity with its labour reality.

When unions strike on 23 April, they are making a pointed observation: England asks workers to celebrate their country while working through the celebration. The contradiction is not trivial. It speaks to a deeper imbalance in how England understands itself — proud in rhetoric, hesitant in practice, and reluctant to grant workers the dignity of a shared national moment.

St George’s Day, in this sense, becomes a mirror. It reflects a country still negotiating what it means to belong, to rest, and to recognise itself.

The Larger Question

The debate over a St George’s Day bank holiday is not really about dragons, saints, or medieval legends. It is about whether England is ready to align its cultural symbolism with its lived experience. It is about whether national pride can be expressed through collective rest rather than commercial spectacle. And it is about whether workers — the people who keep the country functioning — deserve a day that acknowledges both their labour and their place in the national story.

Until that question is resolved, St George’s Day will continue to hover in the English calendar as a half‑celebration, a day that gestures towards identity without fully embracing it. And trade unionists will continue to use it as a reminder that a nation’s values are measured not only in symbols, but in the time it grants its people to breathe.

By Pat Harrington

Court Decision: Volunteers Are Not Workers Under Employment Law

Royal Mencap Society v Tomlinson‑Blake [2021] UKSC 8

This case confirms that a volunteer with no contractual obligation to perform work is not a worker under the Employment Rights Act 1996. The absence of mutuality of obligation and the purely voluntary nature of the arrangement were decisive.

Overview

This case sits at the intersection of care work, low‑paid labour, and the legal architecture that distinguishes work from service. It is a reminder that the law’s categories—worker, employee, volunteer—are not moral judgments but contractual ones. The courts were asked to decide whether a volunteer who attended a callout, despite having no obligation to do so, could be treated as a worker and therefore entitled to statutory rights.

The answer, delivered with the cool precision of appellate reasoning, was no. The absence of mutuality of obligation—no duty to attend, no duty to offer work—meant the relationship never crossed the threshold into worker status.

Facts

Mr Groom volunteered with the Croydon Relief Organisation (CRO), assisting vulnerable service users and occasionally attending callouts. The CRO handbook set expectations of professionalism and attendance, but crucially, it did not bind him contractually. He received reimbursement of travel expenses only—no wages, no honorarium, no retainer.

In 2016 he attended a callout and later claimed he was a worker under the Employment Rights Act 1996, seeking unpaid wages and holiday pay. The Supreme Court, drawing on the principles articulated in Uber BV v Aslam, emphasised that worker status requires:

• Personal service, and

• Mutuality of obligation—the employer must be obliged to offer work, and the individual obliged to perform it.

Neither existed here. The handbook was not a contract, and the reimbursement of expenses did not create legal obligations. lawcases.net

Judgment

The Supreme Court held that Mr Groom was not a worker. The Court of Appeal’s rejection of his claim was upheld. The reasoning aligned with the broader jurisprudence: voluntarism, without contractual underpinning, does not morph into employment merely because the volunteer behaves responsibly or attends when asked.

The Court reaffirmed that:

• A volunteer’s attendance, even if regular or reliable, does not create mutuality of obligation.

• Reimbursement of expenses is not remuneration.

• A handbook expressing expectations does not constitute a binding contract.

This approach mirrors the logic in Uber BV v Aslam, where the Supreme Court stressed that worker status is grounded in the reality of contractual obligations, not the appearance of structured activity.

Comment

There is a quiet melancholy to cases like this. They expose the gap between the moral value of care and the legal value of labour. Mr Groom stepped forward to help someone in distress—a gesture of civic solidarity. Yet the law, with its insistence on contractual formality, treats that gesture as outside the sphere of employment protection.

This is not a failure of compassion but a structural choice: employment rights attach to obligations, not goodwill. The courts are wary of expanding worker status in ways that might chill voluntary organisations or blur the line between paid and unpaid service.

Still, the case invites a broader reflection. In sectors where volunteers perform roles indistinguishable from paid staff, the boundary between altruism and labour becomes ethically fraught. The law resolves the question by looking for mutuality of obligation. Society may wish for something more generous.

By Pat Harrington

Procedural Fairness in Employee Dismissals: Kisheva Case

The Unfair Dismissal of a Door Supervisor and the Collapse of Procedural Fairness

Overview

The dismissal of Ms Yovka Kisheva, a door supervisor employed by Secure Frontline Services Ltd (SFS), is now formally recorded in the law reports as Kisheva v Secure Frontline Services Ltd [2025] EAT 194. It is a case that exposes how a routine shift‑management misunderstanding can metastasise into a finding of gross misconduct when an employer abandons the basic architecture of fairness.

Both the Employment Tribunal (ET) and the Employment Appeal Tribunal (EAT) condemned the employer’s approach as procedurally barren, factually untested, and legally indefensible. The EAT’s judgment is particularly stark: the employer operated with an “absence of any proper procedure”, a phrase that should ring in the ears of every HR manager and security‑sector operator.

Factual Background

On the day in question, Kisheva left her shift early, having informed the on‑site manager. SFS Security later alleged that she had failed to notify head office, treating this as a gross misconduct breach.

Rather than establishing what actually happened, the employer constructed a disciplinary case around assumption and suspicion. The investigation included an extraordinary and irrelevant step: polling her son’s email account to check for communications. This was not only disproportionate but also detached from the alleged misconduct.

Kisheva appealed internally. The appeal was dismissed. She brought a claim for unfair dismissal.

Tribunal Findings

Employment Tribunal

The ET found the dismissal unfair on three principal grounds:

• No reasonable investigation — The employer never clarified whether the on‑site manager had authority to approve her departure, nor what the reporting procedure required in practice.

• Procedural irregularities — The process was muddled, inconsistent, and unsupported by evidence. The email‑polling episode was singled out as particularly inappropriate.

• Disproportionate sanction — Even if there had been a communication lapse, gross misconduct was an excessive and unreasonable response.

Employment Appeal Tribunal — Kisheva v Secure Frontline Services Ltd [2025] EAT 194

The EAT upheld the ET’s decision. Judge Barklem emphasised:

• the absence of any proper procedure,

• the employer’s failure to establish a reasonable belief based on a reasonable investigation,

• and the lack of any rational basis for treating the incident as gross misconduct.

The EAT’s judgment now stands as a clear authority on the limits of managerial discretion in the security sector.

Why This Case Matters

This case is a reminder that gross misconduct is not a managerial shortcut. It requires:

• a clear rule,

• a clear breach,

• a proportionate response,

• and a procedurally sound investigation.

SFS Security failed on all four.

The case also exposes a broader cultural problem: when employers treat administrative expectations as if they were disciplinary tripwires, workers become vulnerable to arbitrary sanction. The law insists that employers ask questions before drawing conclusions, and that they test their assumptions rather than act on them.

For unions, advocates, and workers, the lesson is simple: procedure is protection.

Commentary

What makes Kisheva so instructive is its ordinariness. A worker left early with permission. The employer assumed wrongdoing, built a case around that assumption, and imposed the harshest sanction available. The Tribunal’s response was proportionate: you cannot dismiss first and investigate later.

The EAT’s criticism of the employer’s “absence of any proper procedure” is a warning to the industry. Security work often involves fragmented communication, lone working, and multiple reporting lines. Employers must adapt their procedures to that reality rather than punish workers for navigating it.

This case should be used in training for managers, union reps, and HR practitioners as a model of how not to conduct a disciplinary process.

By Patrick Harrington

Violence at Work: The Hidden Crisis Facing Britain’s Public‑Facing Workforce

The latest findings from the Trades Union Congress land with the weight of a national warning. Their new survey, covering more than five thousand workers across the UK, reveals a working world in which violence and abuse have become disturbingly routine. What emerges is not a collection of isolated incidents but a portrait of a workforce exposed, unprotected, and increasingly resigned to harm. It is a crisis that has been building in plain sight, and one that demands a far more serious response than it has so far received.

The headline figure is stark: eight in ten workers experienced some form of abuse in the past year. This is not a marginal problem affecting a handful of volatile workplaces. It is a systemic pattern cutting across transport, education, prisons, health and social care, and local government—sectors that form the backbone of public life. The survey shows that nearly 40% of respondents work in transport, a sector where staff shortages, passenger frustration, and operational pressures collide daily. Education workers report abuse from pupils and parents; prison staff face the constant threat of violence; health and social care workers navigate environments where emotional strain and under‑resourcing heighten risk. These are not abstract categories—they are the people who keep society functioning.

The frequency of abuse is equally troubling. More than half of workers say they experience violence or abuse weekly or more, and nearly one in five face it monthly. This regularity is what transforms individual incidents into a structural problem. When violence becomes predictable, it becomes normalised. And when it becomes normalised, it becomes invisible to those with the power to change it.

The perpetrators are not confined to one group. Customers, passengers, members of the public, pupils, colleagues, and even managers appear in the data. This breadth matters. It shows that violence is not simply a matter of “difficult customers” or “challenging environments”. It is a cultural issue—one that reflects how workers are valued, how services are funded, and how employers understand their duty of care.

The human consequences are severe. Nearly half of respondents feared for their safety during the most serious incident they experienced. Others suffered physical injury, required medical treatment, or needed police involvement. A third reported mental trauma. These are not minor workplace irritations; they are harms that reshape lives, careers, and families. Yet more than half of those who did not report incidents said they believed violence was simply “part of the job”. That phrase—so often repeated in frontline sectors—reveals the depth of resignation that has taken hold. It is a quiet, corrosive acceptance that harm is inevitable and that nothing will change.

This resignation is not accidental. It has been cultivated by a decade and a half of cuts to the very institutions meant to protect workers. The Health and Safety Executive, once a robust regulator, has seen its funding cut by more than 50% since 2010. Inspector numbers have fallen, inspections have dwindled, and enforcement has weakened. A regulator cannot regulate when starved of resources. The result is a vacuum in which employers face little scrutiny and workers face escalating risk. The TUC is right to call this out. A society that claims to value its frontline workers cannot simultaneously dismantle the structures designed to keep them safe.

The deeper question is why violence has become so embedded in the modern workplace. Part of the answer lies in austerity. When staffing levels fall, waiting times rise, and services strain under demand, frustration spills onto the people who remain. Another part lies in management culture. Too many employers treat violence as an unavoidable by‑product of public‑facing work rather than a preventable hazard. And then there is the silence—workers who do not report incidents because they believe nothing will happen. That silence is not apathy; it is exhaustion.

For unions, the implications are clear. Violence at work is not an individual problem but a collective one. It requires collective solutions: stronger reporting systems, violence‑specific risk assessments, trauma‑informed support, and a regulatory environment capable of enforcing the law. It also requires a cultural shift in which violence is recognised not as an occupational inevitability but as a failure of planning, staffing, and leadership.

The TUC’s message is blunt: unionised workplaces are safer. This is not rhetoric; it is borne out by decades of evidence. Where unions are present, risks are identified earlier, incidents are challenged, and employers are held to account. In a climate where violence is rising and regulatory oversight is weakening, collective organisation becomes not just beneficial but essential.

The crisis revealed by the TUC survey is not one that can be solved by platitudes or piecemeal interventions. It demands a national commitment to restoring the Health and Safety Executive, strengthening legal protections for public‑facing workers, and ensuring that employers meet their obligations. It demands that violence be treated not as an unfortunate feature of modern work but as a breach of fundamental rights.

Above all, it demands that workers are not left to face danger alone. Violence is never “part of the job”. It is a sign that something has gone profoundly wrong in the way we organise work, value labour, and protect those who serve the public. The task now is to confront that reality with honesty, urgency, and solidarity—and to build a working world in which safety is not a privilege but a guarantee.

By Maria Camara

Picture credit: KollectivFutur