Hansard

Ms Smith will not have the police at her door for anything that she has said on the hate crime bill. I am sorry to hear that she has been the victim of hate. I promise her that if she wants to see hatred, she can see it on my timeline on Twitter on any day of the week. I understand how pernicious hate crime can be.

I had a carefully crafted speech that I was going to use for the debate, but I changed it somewhat after the good stage 3 debate that we had yesterday. I want to share a personal anecdote that I hope will illustrate why I think that the hate crime bill is needed. I want to do so not because my experience is unique, but because it is the opposite; it is the experience of hundreds of thousands of our fellow Scots. I apologise in advance, Presiding Officer, because some of the language that I will use will be unparliamentary, but it will illustrate the point that I want to make.

As a young child, I was not aware that the colour of my skin made me different from the majority of Scots. That might seem to be unusual, but anybody who has young kids, nephews, nieces or grandchildren will understand that innocence. The first time I ever became aware of my race was when I was in primary school, in primary 2. My best friend since primary 1 came up to me one day and, completely out of the blue—we had not had a fight or disagreement of any sort—said in a very matter-of-fact voice, “I can’t be your friend any more.” I remember feeling quite stunned. As I said, it came completely out of the blue. Of course, I asked him why and he said to me—I will always remember it—“Because you’re a Paki.” I had no idea what the word meant. I remember skulking around the playground not really having a clue about what had just happened.

I went back home after school and I asked my mum, “Am I a Paki?” I remember my mum being quite visibly upset, and she explained to me how some people—“very rude people”, she said—sometimes made fun of us because of the colour of our skin, but that I had done nothing wrong. From being six years old to the present day, some 30 years later, not a day goes by when I am not conscious of the colour of my skin. I suspect that in the vast and overwhelming majority of my interactions with people, the first thing that they see or notice about me is the colour of my skin, and they probably form a judgment about me in relation to the colour of my skin, sometimes consciously and sometimes—I am sure—unconsciously.

I have told that story for two reasons, one of which is that my six-year-old friend did not just become a racist. I do not believe that we have racist six-year-olds. He undoubtedly learned that racism at home—probably from a parent or older sibling. I mention that because there are some people here who believe—even if they were to be the person towards whom the hatred was directed—that racism that is intentionally stirred up using threatening or abusive language, at home with a sibling, child or grandchild present, should not be prosecuted.

I contend that the impact is exactly the same, regardless of where—whether it is at home or outwith the home—hatred is intentionally stirred up, or whoever is the target of that stirring up. The outcome could lead to a person of colour, a disabled person, someone who is gay or lesbian, an older person, a trans woman or somebody with variation of sex characteristics being beaten up or threatened with violence or rape. Do we think that they would care whether that hatred was intentionally stirred up or took place at home?

The second reason why I told that story is to illustrate how strong the safeguards in the hate crime bill are. Let us hypothecate about what probably happened in relation to my six-year-old friend. Why did he use the word that he used? The chances are that my friend was at home and, back in the early 90s when it took place, probably heard a parent say, “I’ll go pick up a loaf and milk from the Paki shop.” Let us be honest: that was relatively common parlance in the 1980s and 1990s.

Let us assume that that same phraseology was used today in 2021, after the Hate Crime and Public Order (Scotland) Bill is—I hope—passed at stage 3. Even the use of that language—which, I suspect, we probably all agree is racist—in that scenario, by someone’s grandparent, whether at home or in public, would not be prosecuted under the new legislation and its stirring up of hatred offences or, indeed, under the previous racial stirring up of hatred offence. Why? It is because the threshold for offences is incredibly high.

Some people think that they might somehow accidentally fall foul of the law, even in relation to Elaine Smith’s point, because they believe that sex is immutable. They state that an adult man cannot become a female, they campaign for the rights of Palestinians, as Sandra White mentioned to me yesterday, or they proselytise that same-sex relationships are sinful. None of those people would fall foul of the stirring up of hatred offence for solely stating their belief, even if they were to do so in a robust manner. Why? It is because solely stating a belief, which might be offensive to some people, does not breach the criminal threshold.

Through the legislative process, we have created offences that—rightly—have a high threshold of prosecution.

How much time do I have left, Presiding Officer?