Resident Doctors Vote on Government Pay Offer

Resident doctors began voting today on the government’s new pay and jobs offer — a moment that feels less like the end of a dispute and more like a pause in a long, exhausting struggle. The British Medical Association’s decision to call off this week’s strike was not a sign of retreat, but an act of responsibility: a willingness to let members judge the offer on its merits rather than escalate for escalation’s sake. It is, in other words, what professionalism looks like. The question now is whether the offer itself meets that same standard.

The headline numbers are familiar: the 2016 contract terms extended to all locally employed medics, an average 6.6 per cent uplift by April 2027, and a promise of 4,500 extra speciality training places over three years. On paper, it is a package that gestures towards stability — a government finally acknowledging that the NHS cannot run on goodwill and burnout indefinitely. But resident doctors know better than anyone that gestures are not guarantees. They have lived through a decade of attrition: real‑terms pay cuts, rota gaps, spiralling workloads, and a career structure that too often feels like a conveyor belt to exhaustion. Against that backdrop, “worth consideration” — the BMA’s careful phrase — is not the same as “enough.”

What gives this moment its weight is not the offer itself, but the context in which it arrives. This would have been the sixteenth round of strike action since 2023 — a statistic that should shame any government that claims to value the NHS. Doctors do not walk out lightly. They do so because the alternative is a system that continues to hollow out, year after year, until the only people left are those too exhausted to fight. The government calls its proposal “transformative.” Perhaps. But transformation is measured not in press releases, but in whether doctors can afford to stay in the profession, whether training bottlenecks are genuinely eased, and whether the NHS stops haemorrhaging talent to countries that treat their clinicians with respect.

Dr Jack Fletcher, the BMA’s chair, put it plainly: if members believe this is a real step towards pay restoration and a career structure they can trust, the strikes will end. If not, they will escalate. That is not a threat; it is a statement of reality. A workforce pushed to the brink will not be placated by rhetoric. They will vote with the clarity that comes from lived experience — from nights spent covering unsafe rotas, from years of pay erosion, from watching colleagues leave medicine entirely.

The government insists the offer “will not get any better.” History suggests otherwise. Offers improve when workers stand together, when unions refuse to be divided, and when the public sees through the narrative that doctors are asking for too much. They are not. They are asking for the bare minimum required to keep the NHS functioning: fair pay, safe staffing, and a future that does not demand personal sacrifice as the entry price for public service.

Whatever the outcome of the vote, one truth remains: resident doctors have shown extraordinary resolve, dignity and unity throughout this dispute. They have held the line not just for themselves, but for the health service as a whole. And if the government truly wants an NHS that can survive the next decade, it would do well to remember that progress is not achieved by insisting “this is as good as it gets,” but by listening to the people who keep the system alive.

The direction of travel is clear. The vote now rests with the doctors. The responsibility for what happens next rests squarely with the government.

By Maria Camara

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

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

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

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

Safety on Britain’s Railways Is Failing — Workers Need Protection Now

The British rail industry is living through a period of profound contradiction. Ministers and operators speak the language of “modernisation,” “efficiency,” and “digital transformation,” yet the lived reality for rail workers is one of rising violence, shrinking safety budgets, eroded dignity, and a creeping institutional amnesia about the lessons written in blood across the last century of rail history.

In an article in the February Labour Research magazine ‘The railways: safe for rail workers’ —and across the testimonies of our own members—the same themes recur: assaults rising year on year, mental health neglected, earthworks left to crumble, and the lessons of Carmont already fading from managerial memory. The railways are not unsafe by accident. They are made unsafe by political choice.

This essay gathers those threads and sets out the case—our case—for a rail system that treats workers’ safety not as a cost centre but as the foundation of a functioning public service.

1. Violence Against Rail Workers: The Hidden Epidemic

The numbers alone should shame the industry.

• Assaults on rail workers rose 17% in 2022/23, with more than 3,000 incidents reported.

• Since 2019, assaults have increased by over 50%.

• Only 68% of assaults were even recorded by British Transport Police.

• Only one in four resulted in charges.

Behind each statistic is a worker who went to do their job and instead faced aggression, threats, or physical harm. Ticket office closures, lone working, and understaffing have created the perfect conditions for violence to flourish. When companies talk about “customer service improvements,” they rarely mention that the human beings delivering those services are increasingly exposed and unsupported.

Unions have fought back. The TSSA’s agreement with the Rail Delivery Group on aftercare and counselling is a step forward, but it is not enough. Body‑worn cameras help, but they are not a shield against a political climate that treats public‑facing workers as disposable shock absorbers for social frustration.

Violence is not inevitable. It is the predictable outcome of a system that prioritises cost‑cutting over human safety.

2. Carmont and the Price of Austerity

The Carmont crash of 2020—Britain’s worst rail disaster in nearly 20 years—was not an unforeseeable act of nature. It was the result of a landslip caused by heavy rain, hitting a section of track whose risks had not been properly assessed. Three people died.

The RAIB report was clear: the driver and conductor did everything possible. The failure was systemic.

Yet in the years following the crash, Network Rail’s spending on earthworks was cut by 25%.

Cuts to drainage, embankments, culverts, and monitoring systems are not abstract budget lines. They are the difference between a safe railway and another Carmont. When unions warn that lessons are being forgotten, they are not being rhetorical. They are describing a real, measurable retreat from safety.

Austerity is not a neutral policy. It is a safety hazard.

3. Lessons Forgotten: The Danger of Complacency

The TSSA has warned that the Carmont crash is already being treated as an anomaly rather than a warning. Britain’s long‑term safety record is often cited as proof that the system is fundamentally sound. But safety is not a static achievement. It is a culture—one that must be renewed, resourced, and defended.

Complacency is itself a risk factor. When budgets tighten, safety is the first thing to be reframed as “efficiency.” When institutional memory fades, the same mistakes reappear in new forms. When workers raise concerns, they are too often treated as obstacles to “progress.”

The rail industry cannot afford another era of forgetting.

4. Air Quality Underground: The Invisible Threat

While the public debates fares and timetables, another danger lurks beneath London: toxic air.

The TSSA’s Tube Air Quality Campaign has forced the issue into the open. PM2.5 particles—generated by brake dust and wheel wear—are present at levels that would be unacceptable in any other workplace. Research from Imperial College London shows these particles penetrate deep into the lungs and bloodstream.

Workers spend entire careers underground. The long‑term health implications are obvious, yet investment in ventilation, filtration, and cleaning remains inadequate.

The Underground is the beating heart of London. It should not be a slow‑burn occupational health crisis.

5. Mental Health: The Unspoken Cost of Rail Work

Shift work, isolation, traumatic incidents, and the constant pressure of public scrutiny take a toll. The RMT’s Mental Health Charter is a vital intervention, but it exists because employers have failed to provide the support workers need.

Mental health is not a “soft” issue. It is a safety issue. A workforce under chronic stress is a workforce at risk.

6. The Politics of Safety: Why Public Ownership Matters

Every issue above—violence, infrastructure neglect, air quality, mental health—shares a common root: a fragmented, underfunded, profit‑driven rail system.

Unions are right to demand:

• A fully funded, publicly owned railway

• Investment in infrastructure, not cuts

• Safety as a non‑negotiable principle

• A culture that remembers its history rather than repeating it

Safety is not a cost. It is the foundation of a civilised transport system.

7. A Railway Worthy of Its Workers

The railways are often described as the arteries of the nation. But arteries only function when they are cared for, maintained, and protected. The workers who keep the system running deserve dignity, safety, and respect—not rising violence, shrinking budgets, and forgotten lessons.

The Solidarity Union stands with every rail worker fighting for a safer industry. We stand with the RMT, the TSSA, and every rep who refuses to accept that danger is “part of the job.” And we stand with the public, who deserve a railway built on investment, not austerity.

A safe railway is a political choice. It is time to choose it.

By Maria Camara

Unions as Architects of Sovereignty: How the Labour Movement Can Lead Britain’s Industrial Renewal

The government’s new insourcing rules mark a shift in industrial policy, but the deeper work of rebuilding Britain’s productive base will not be led from Whitehall alone. Unions—rooted in workplaces, communities, and lived experience—are uniquely placed to shape a sovereign industrial strategy that restores capability, strengthens democracy, and secures the nation’s energy future.

A New Industrial Moment, and a New Responsibility

The government is finally acknowledging what unions have argued for decades: that outsourcing has weakened national resilience and hollowed out the country’s industrial core. But recognition is not leadership. The labour movement now faces a moment of opportunity—and responsibility.

Unions are not merely stakeholders in industrial strategy. They are the only institutions with:

a direct line to the workforce
a presence in every strategic sector
democratic legitimacy
long memory of past industrial decline
and a moral commitment to the public good

This gives unions a unique vantage point from which to shape the next phase of Britain’s industrial renewal.

Why Unions Must Lead the Strategy, Not Just Respond to It

Industrial strategy is often framed as a technocratic exercise—plans, frameworks, incentives. But the real work happens in workshops, shipyards, power stations, fabrication plants, and control rooms. It happens in the hands of workers.

Unions understand:

the skills that exist
the skills that have been lost
the skills that must be rebuilt
the conditions required for safe, high‑quality work
and the lived consequences of industrial decline

This knowledge is not abstract. It is embodied. It is practical. It is strategic.

A sovereign industrial strategy cannot be written without it.

Seven Ways Unions Can Shape Britain’s Industrial Future

1. Establish Worker‑Led Industrial Councils

Sectoral councils—co‑chaired by unions and industry—can guide long‑term planning in:

steel
shipbuilding
energy infrastructure
nuclear
renewables
AI and digital systems

These councils would identify capability gaps, coordinate investment, and ensure that industrial strategy is grounded in real workplace knowledge.

2. Lead a National Skills Renaissance

Unions can anchor a skills revival by:

creating union‑led training centres
designing apprenticeships tied to domestic content requirements
supporting mid‑career retraining for energy transition jobs
ensuring that new technologies come with new protections

Skills are the backbone of sovereignty. Unions are the backbone of skills.

3. Negotiate Domestic Content Agreements

Unions can push for binding commitments that:

public contracts use British steel
offshore wind uses British fabrication
nuclear projects use British components
hydrogen and storage systems are built in Britain

These agreements turn insourcing from policy into practice.

4. Champion Public Ownership Where It Matters

Unions can articulate the case for public ownership of:

the grid
transmission networks
strategic generation assets
large‑scale storage

This is not ideological. It is about resilience, planning, and democratic control.

5. Shape Regional Industrial Clusters

Unions can help design regional strategies that build on local strengths:

the North East in offshore wind
South Wales in steel
Scotland in tidal and hydrogen
the Midlands in advanced manufacturing
Northern Ireland in shipbuilding

This ensures that industrial renewal is place‑based, not London‑centric.

6. Embed Worker Voice in Every Major Project

From procurement to design to delivery, unions can ensure:

safe working conditions
fair pay
secure contracts
high‑quality standards
community benefit agreements

Worker voice is not a courtesy—it is a strategic asset.

7. Hold Government to Its Promises

The new insourcing rules are a beginning, not an end. Unions must:

monitor compliance
expose offshoring
challenge weak enforcement
demand transparency
and insist that public money builds public capability

Accountability is the difference between policy and progress.

A Democratic Industrial Strategy

Industrial strategy is not simply about factories, grids, and supply chains. It is about the kind of country Britain chooses to be. A sovereign nation is one that:

trusts its workers
invests in its communities
builds its own future
and refuses to outsource its destiny

Unions are the democratic institutions best placed to articulate this vision—not as nostalgia, but as a forward‑looking project of national renewal.

The next step is deciding how boldly the labour movement wants to act.

By Pat Harrington

The Battle of Orgreave Inquiry Begins: A Historic Chance for Truth, Accountability, and Justice

More than forty years after police violence scarred the miners’ strike, the long‑delayed inquiry into the Battle of Orgreave has finally begun. For the communities who lived through 1984—and for every worker who has faced the heavy hand of the state—this is a long‑overdue chance to expose the truth, confront institutional wrongdoing, and demand justice that has been denied for generations.

he launch of the long‑awaited inquiry into the Battle of Orgreave marks a watershed moment in the struggle for truth about one of the most notorious episodes of state violence in modern British industrial history. More than four decades after the events of 18 June 1984, the Bishop of Sheffield, Dr Peter Wilcox, opened the inquiry with a commitment to “impartiality, humility and a firm commitment to transparency” . For the miners who lived through that day—and for the generations of workers who inherited its legacy—this inquiry is not simply a matter of historical record. It is a test of whether the British state can finally confront the truth about how it wielded power against its own people.

What Happened at Orgreave

On that June morning in 1984, thousands of striking miners gathered outside the Orgreave Coking Plant near Rotherham. They were met by an unprecedented mobilisation of police, including mounted officers and units equipped with riot gear. Over several hours, violent clashes unfolded. Police charged pickets on horseback, struck miners with batons, and dragged them into vans. Ninety‑five miners were arrested for riot and unlawful assembly—charges that were later dropped when police evidence collapsed under scrutiny .

The images from that day—of workers beaten, kettled, and pursued—became emblematic of a government determined to break the National Union of Mineworkers and reshape the balance of power between labour and the state.

Why This Inquiry Matters

1. A Pattern of State Power Without Accountability

As Kevin Horne, one of the miners arrested at Orgreave, put it: “This was state‑sponsored organisation against the miners and our livelihoods.” His words echo a long‑held belief among mining communities: that Orgreave was not a policing failure but a deliberate, coordinated strategy to crush the strike and intimidate workers nationwide .

2. Media Collusion and the Battle for Narrative

John Dunn, another miner arrested during the strike, highlighted the role of the press: “The mass media colluded with the Tories by lying in their headlines and reports… or not reporting it at all.” The inquiry offers an opportunity to examine how public understanding of Orgreave was shaped—and distorted—by selective reporting and political pressure.

3. Destruction of Evidence

Perhaps most troubling is the revelation that police have recently destroyed material relevant to the inquiry. Kate Flannery of the Orgreave Truth and Justice Campaign warned that this is not simply a matter of the past: “This is of great public interest and concern and is about a government who actively worked against its own population and handed the police paramilitary powers and destroyed an industry in the process.”

If evidence has been destroyed, it raises profound questions about institutional culture, transparency, and the willingness of authorities to obstruct accountability even decades later.

The Human Cost: Trauma, Community, and the Long Shadow of 1984

For many miners and their families, Orgreave was not an isolated event but part of a wider campaign that devastated communities. The closure of pits, the criminalisation of trade unionists, and the economic collapse of mining towns left scars that remain visible today.

Solidarity recognises that trauma is not only physical. It is generational, communal, and political. The inquiry must therefore address not only what happened on the day but the broader context of state hostility toward organised labour.

What Workers Need From This Inquiry

Transparency

The inquiry must have full access to surviving records, police operational plans, and government communications. Any obstruction must be treated as a matter of public concern.

Accountability

If wrongdoing is established—whether by individual officers, senior commanders, or government officials—there must be consequences. Justice delayed must not become justice denied.

Recognition

The miners who were vilified, beaten, and falsely accused deserve formal acknowledgement of the wrongs committed against them.

Reform

Orgreave is not simply a historical event. It is a warning. The inquiry must inform modern policing practices, ensuring that no government can again deploy police as a political weapon against workers.

Solidarity’s Position

As a union committed to justice, dignity, and democratic accountability, Solidarity welcomes the launch of this inquiry. We stand with the miners, their families, and the Orgreave Truth and Justice Campaign in demanding a full, fearless examination of the events of 1984.

The struggle for truth is part of a broader struggle for a society where working people are not treated as enemies of the state. Orgreave is not only about the past—it is about the future of policing, protest, and workers’ rights in Britain.

By Pat Harrington