The government’s new proposed guidance on restricting sex education in schools is a dangerous regression. Not only do the plans also have the distinct whiff of hot air, they resemble nothing more than a new Section 28 – the notorious anti-gay Thatcher-era legislation.
This education overhaul proposes that no explicit discussions of sex whatsoever should take place until students are in Year Nine. Domestic violence, coercive control and sexual violence would not be discussed with children until they are 13.
Very sadly, this is not a reflection of the world in which we live. Abuse takes place at all ages, and educating children about the sorts of forms it can take is a crucial safeguarding tool. If kids are not taught robustly about sex in schools, they will seek it out elsewhere. Most likely, on the under-regulated space of the internet, and through pornography.
Under the guidelines, children of any age would also no longer be taught about gender identity – the clearest regression yet towards the dark days of Section 28. Preventing people from discussing the mere existence of trans and non-binary people in society – or indeed anybody else who takes a more lenient approach to gender expression – does not make them disappear. Instead, it merely warps children’s perceptions of the world. And for those children who may have questions about their own gender identity, the silence morphs into an ugly blob of shame.
The bitter irony is that last November marked a major milestone in the ongoing fight for LGBTQ+ rights – twenty years since the end of Section 28. First introduced by Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government in the late Eighties, the cruel policy prohibited local authorities, schools and libraries from “promoting homosexuality."
Though it was eventually repealed in 2003, following decades of fierce campaigning by everyone from Six O’Clock News studio invaders to a troupe of lesbian abseilers who launched themselves from the public gallery into the House of Lords, its after effects are still felt today. There is an entire generation of LGBTQ+ people who grew up being taught that their sexuality was shameful, and something to keep hidden.
We can pretend children will not encounter the world of sex and sexual identity until the law deems them capable of doing so – or we can live in the real world
Sex education provision was also woefully inadequate while I was at school. Forget nuanced, age-appropriate introductions to the importance of consent, or any reference to the idea that relationships should be fun, fulfilling, and underpinned by respect… my sex ed amounted to popping a condom onto a cucumber, and being left to figure out the rest.
Other than the constant deluge of students referring to things they didn’t like as “gay” I remember the existence of queer people being fleetingly acknowledged once in class, towards the end of sixth form. I also vividly remember an old English teacher of mine (shout out, Mrs Daniels) recommending I read Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, and how much it blew my teenage mind that there were people out there after all, writing books about people similar to me. How different things could’ve been if broader representation had been the norm rather than the exception.
With Relationships and Sex Education now compulsory in schools – with something resembling a structured, age-appropriate curriculum to match, and new inclusion requirements thanks to the 2010 Equality Act – things have thankfully come on quite a bit since then.
Aspects of the new advice feel like performative lip service: there are already clear guidelines in place around what is and isn’t appropriate for primary and secondary age kids. As Green Party MP Caroline Lucas puts it: “It’s always age appropriate to give young people skills to stay safe… This is the worst kind of arm-chair politics: bigoted and ill-informed.”
We can pretend children will not encounter the world of sex and sexual identity until the law deems them capable of doing so – or we can live in the real world and give them the tools to make sense of things that are coming their way, whether we like it or not.
Put simply: how on earth will any of this immensely dangerous brushing under the carpet help to ‘protect our kids?’
