This article references rape and sexual assault.
After years of empty promises and countless scandals, a new Panorama investigation exposes what women have known all along: the police can’t be trusted to protect us.
Many women face the same harmful question when discussing experiences of rape, abuse or misogyny: “Did you report it to the police?” Personally, I’ve heard this question so many times, and my answer is usually no. The reason is not only a lack of trust in the police, but also the deep systemic misogyny, racism, homophobia, transphobia and ableism within the force.
Behaviour in the police matters because women are often not believed, even when confiding in trusted friends or family. We’re dismissed, doubted, or victim-blamed. That disbelief comes from a misogynistic view of women as liars or exaggerators. Receiving the same treatment from those meant to protect us and hold perpetrators accountable is simply never acceptable, yet it persists.
Last week, Panorama released a documentary after a seven-month undercover investigation at Charing Cross police station. During that time, hidden cameras captured officers making derogatory comments about women, joking about rape, and mocking survivors. The programme confirmed what women and other marginalised groups have known for a long time: we cannot trust the police, even when it comes to male violence against women and girls.
Gender-based violence is not inevitable.
The officers filmed also unnecessarily restrained and abused a child with autism, using “pressure points” on the child’s legs. They made dehumanising comments about asylum seekers, bragged about serving non-halal meat to Muslims, and said things like “foreigners are the worst.”
When women come to the police after a horrendous attack – often in a highly vulnerable state – it can be retraumatising to be victim-blamed or not taken seriously, especially when that disbelief is also rooted in racism, misogyny, transphobia, or ableism.
It was only a couple of years ago that police – again at Charing Cross – were reprimanded for sending WhatsApp messages about assaulting their partners, raping women, and other offensive, harmful “jokes.”
Often, as women, we can tell when a man is harmful or misogynistic; through certain phrases, attitudes or “jokes” linked to incel culture, or the manosphere. In the documentary, we hear sexist language from several officers. One sergeant told a story about a woman, made offensive comments about her weight, and then told a colleague that she “had two p*ssies.” These are not just one-off jokes or banter; they reveal a more profound hatred for women. And that hatred is dangerous.
Met Police Commissioner Sir Mark Rowley described the findings as “disgraceful”, adding that the force had taken “immediate and unprecedented action”. Eight police officers and one staff member have been suspended. The Met has referred Panorama's allegations to the Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC), which is undergoing an investigation.
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When men feel bold enough to express hatred for women, it signals to others that misogyny is acceptable in their presence; a kind of dog whistle. It’s part of the process of dehumanising women, reducing us to objects. That dehumanisation so often escalates into physical abuse.
There are countless stories of women who, after reporting sexual crimes, were then assaulted by the very officers taking their statements. The dangers surrounding reporting gender-based sexual crimes are immense.
I’ve experienced being victim-blamed and disbelieved before. I once reported a man who had sent me death threats for, in his words, “hijacking the Sarah Everard vigil” after a photo of my arrest at the vigil went viral. The case was closed without explanation. Each time I called to reopen it, officers said they didn’t know why it had been closed – then it was closed again. After months of trying, I gave up. They never did anything.
“Just as there has been a rise in popularity of womanosphere influencers, we have seen counter-influencers gain visibility for debunking and challenging their claims."
When police are shown to hold hateful views about women and other marginalised groups, it’s easy to see why so many of us don’t want to report. We’ve seen the look of disbelief and apathy on officers’ faces. We’ve heard the words that the sergeant said in the documentary after a man was reported, “That’s what she said”, which really means, “I don’t believe her.”
When trust is broken repeatedly, there are few places left to turn. Thankfully, there are incredible organisations that work tirelessly to support and guide survivors – whether they choose to report or not.
The Panorama documentary didn’t tell us anything new; it confirmed what we already know. We have every reason not to trust them. We don’t need more empty promises from the Commissioner; we need real change, and fast.
It’s only been four years since I first started talking about systemic issues within policing, but these problems have existed for decades. Marginalised groups have been gaslit, dismissed, and further abused by police when reporting or speaking out. The Panorama documentary was needed, as all investigations into the police are, to shed more light on the abuse and hopefully illicit more public pressure. But it won't mean anything if it’s not followed up by real change.
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