The 1824 Vagrancy Act, passed into law under the Tory government of Lord Liverpool during the period of domestic unrest and repression that followed the Napoleonic wars, was not shy about its targets. Under the general heading of “idle and disorderly Persons, and Rogues and Vagabonds”, it took in fortune tellers, “every Common Prostitute” and anyone exposing “Wounds or Deformities to obtain or gather alms”. Such people, including penniless former soldiers and sailors, were to be imprisoned and sentenced to hard labour.
Five years ago, when a charity-led campaign to repeal this antiquated legislation began to gather momentum, the former Metropolitan police chief Lord Hogan-Howe was among those who voiced support. The view that dealing with rough sleeping was the police’s job was “firmly rooted in 1824”, he said. Frontline outreach and homelessness services should take over. In 2022, ministers promised £8.8m in funding for homeless military veterans, who are still disproportionately likely to end up on the streets.
Later that year, the act, which applies to England, was partially repealed. But rather than complete this unfinished business by enacting their decision in full, the Conservatives under Rishi Sunak have opted to mark its 200th anniversary with a row that shows his government in the worst possible light. Its flagship crime bill would create new offences with which to charge homeless people who are deemed responsible for “excessive smells”, litter or “deposits of waste”. This drafting would turn the clock back to Lord Liverpool’s era. The highly public falling out with backbenchers this week is the predictable result. The 40 MPs threatening to rebel range from Iain Duncan Smith to Nickie Aiken, who used to lead Westminster city council and thus has experience of dealing with rough sleeping. Bob Blackman, a joint secretary of the backbench 1922 Committee, is their ringleader.
The government’s approach is not new. In 2018, campaigners against the criminalisation of this social problem were galvanised by events in Windsor. Then, the Conservative council leader demanded that police tackle “an epidemic of rough sleeping” in advance of Prince Harry’s wedding to Meghan Markle, and accused beggars of exploiting tourists. Such startling harshness at a time of national celebration placed the council out of step with the public mood. An emerging consensus called for an approach combining compassion with pragmatism.
Issuing fines to destitute people is senseless, as Ms Aiken has pointed out, while rough sleeping is a symptom of a wider crisis of housing affordability. This is where housing policy (and market) failures intersect with other sources of vulnerability, including benefit cuts and the toll of addiction and mental illness.
More recently, however, a different and harsher current of thought has resurfaced. This can be summarised as the Suella Braverman view, which claims that rough sleeping is a “lifestyle choice” associated with immigrants. Currently, on this as on other issues, the prime minister’s agenda is trapped between the profound intolerance of his party’s hard right and other, less punitive instincts.
With Britain in the grip of a poverty crisis, any decision to impose new penalties on rough sleepers would represent the ugliest politics. The rebels must prevail and consign the Vagrancy Act to history as promised. Even by this government’s low standards, this episode’s combination of political ineptitude and sheer unpleasantness takes some beating.
