Meeting of the Parliament 16 June 2026 [Draft]
Jenny Young made an outstanding speech. Undoubtedly, she is a rising talent in the Labour Party—and quite rightly so.
It is a privilege to be able to participate in this debate. Jo Cox was murdered by a far-right extremist, and Sir David Amess, my friend—I should say “our friend”, as he was a friend to everybody—was murdered by Islamist extremism. Those ideologies are different, but the result is the same. Both were acts of pure evil. Both were attacks on democracy. Both were attacks on the principle that political differences are settled through debate, persuasion and the ballot box rather than through intimidation, hatred and violence. The deaths of Jo Cox and Sir David Amess remind us that our democracy is precious but also fragile.
Those of us who enter public life do so knowing that we will, rightly, be scrutinised, criticised and challenged. That is part of the job. However, what none of us should ever have to accept is abuse, threats or fear. We are supposed to disagree in this Parliament—and I make my own contribution to that end. If we stop disagreeing, we stop doing our jobs, because robust disagreement is the lifeblood of our democracy. However, there is a world of difference between robust disagreement and hatred.
We would be kidding ourselves if we pretended that the tone of our politics has not deteriorated. Social media can be a powerful force for good, but too often it can become a sewer. I do not pretend to know the solution, but it cannot be healthy that anonymous individuals—sometimes bad actors from foreign states who do not live anywhere near these shores—can hide themselves behind false identities and spread hatred, misinformation and abuse with little consequence. The effect that that is having on our democracy is undoubtedly discouraging good people from entering public life, and that worries me. It places enormous pressure on those who are already serving, and that pressure falls particularly heavily on women in politics, many of whom are subject to levels of personal abuse that are utterly reprehensible.
What genuinely distresses me is the extent to which some of the most toxic of voices online are indulged, amplified and even sometimes legitimised by people who should know better. We all know the anonymous accounts that I am talking about. They trade in personal abuse, conspiracy theories and outright falsehoods. None of us should be encouraging that culture, and none of us should be giving it oxygen.
When I think of Jo Cox, I think of the words that have been mentioned already, which, I grant, are oft-quoted. She said that
“we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.”—[Official Report, House of Commons, 3 June 2015; Vol 596, c 675.]
Those words are not just a slogan; they are a challenge to recognise our common humanity and to build stronger communities. That spirit lives on through the Jo Cox Foundation, which has focused on strengthening communities, encouraging respectful politics and tackling loneliness.
I was greatly impressed by the work that was conducted on a joint-party basis by Rachel Reeves and Seema Kennedy, who united in the memory of Jo to ensure that loneliness was finally recognised as a serious challenge that society faces. Theresa May, in fact, had a minister for loneliness, in recognition of the great social harm that loneliness inflicts on us as a community. Jo understood something important. Too many people, particularly older people, live lives of profound isolation. Some go days, weeks or sometimes longer without any meaningful contact with another human being. That is why community matters and why belonging matters.
Jo Cox’s message was that we have more in common than that which divides us. Sir David Amess embodied that same belief through his kindness, accessibility and commitment to his constituents. At a time when our politics can feel increasingly fractious and toxic, the lessons from those individuals are worth remembering and taking into our own service as public servants.