"Speak English" — Hate Crime or Common Sense? By Richard Miller (London)

 At its core, UK hate crime legislation does not criminalise speech solely for being rude, opinionated, or even offensive. Hate crimes are defined as any criminal offence perceived by the victim or any other person to be motivated (wholly or partly) by hostility or prejudice toward a protected characteristic: race, religion, sexual orientation, disability, or transgender identity. This broad "perception-based" recording, rooted in College of Policing guidance, means police log incidents even if no crime is ultimately prosecuted.

The key statutes come from the Public Order Act 1986 (as amended) and the Crime and Disorder Act 1998. Section 5 of the Public Order Act covers using threatening or abusive words or behaviour (or disorderly behaviour) within the hearing or sight of someone likely to be caused harassment, alarm, or distress. No intent to cause distress is required for the basic offence — only that it is likely — and penalties are typically a fine (up to Level 3 or 4 on the standard scale). Section 4A adds intent for a more serious version (up to 6 months' imprisonment).

Crucially, these can become racially or religiously aggravated under section 31 of the Crime and Disorder Act 1998 if the offender demonstrates hostility based on the victim's (or presumed) membership of a racial or religious group, or if the offence is motivated (wholly or partly) by such hostility. Aggravation upgrades penalties: fines rise, and in some cases, imprisonment up to 2 years becomes possible in Crown Court. "Hostility" isn't strictly defined in statute but takes its ordinary meaning — ill-will, spite, or prejudice — often inferred from context, timing, or words used.

Saying "Speak English" alone rarely meets the threshold for a standalone criminal offence under these provisions. English is the de facto (and in practice, official) language of the UK, and politely asking someone to switch languages in a public interaction — say, during a service or conversation — would typically not qualify as threatening, abusive, or disorderly. Context is everything: if delivered aggressively, with insults, threats, or in a way that targets ethnicity (e.g., assuming non-English speakers are inherently foreign or inferior based on race), it could cross into abusive behaviour likely to cause distress. If hostility toward race or religion is demonstrated or motivated, aggravation kicks in.

Police responses often stem from non-crime hate incidents (NCHIs), a separate category where no criminal offence occurs but hostility is perceived. Guidance urges recording these to monitor tensions and support victims, sometimes leading to warnings, visits, or records that linger on individuals' files. I believe that this chills speech, as even unfounded complaints trigger official action. (Note: In late 2025, reports indicated plans to scrap or reform NCHIs amid free speech concerns, though implementation varies.)

The Online Safety Act 2023 (with duties rolling out through 2025–2026) adds another layer for digital speech, requiring platforms to tackle illegal content, including racially or religiously aggravated public order offences, and harmful material like hate speech. But offline, verbal requests remain governed by the older framework.

Real-world incidents highlight the grey zone. In several 2025 cases, elderly individuals or bystanders faced police warnings after asking non-native speakers to use English, often framed as potential hostility toward race (e.g., presuming ethnicity from language). No widespread prosecutions appear for the phrase in isolation, but the perception-based approach means complaints can prompt investigation, eroding public confidence in common-sense boundaries.

This leaves ordinary citizens uncertain: is insisting on English in Britain — where it's the primary language for law, services, and daily life — a reasonable expectation, or does it risk being misread as prejudice? Legally, polite requests are generally safe; aggressive or derogatory delivery in a hostile context could trigger scrutiny under public order laws, especially if aggravated. The broader issue is enforcement discretion and the low bar for recording incidents, which can feel like policing thought rather than crime.

Ultimately, UK law protects against genuine hostility while safeguarding expression — but the collision of perception-driven recording, broad aggravation provisions, and cultural sensitivities creates a chilling effect. Common sense suggests context matters enormously; overzealous application risks turning everyday interactions into legal minefields. Such is the real face of a diverse multicult society.