CARNAL NATION

If your sexuality does not fit, don't go looking for work in the United Kingdom. That is the message from across the Atlantic, as chilling new social controls, instituted this month, threaten to bar from public employment anyone whose sexual interests place them outside a very narrow "normal" consensus.

Like most such measures, the original motive behind the new "Vetting and Safeguarding" system was positive. Back in August 2002, a school caretaker from Soham abducted and brutally murdered two ten-year old school girls. Hindsight suggested that maybe—if police forces had co-operated more easily in sharing information—the perpetrator, Ian Huntley, would have been spotted sooner and this tragedy avoided.

That question remains the subject of fierce debate. What is not debatable is the series of measures that Government has since put in place to monitor and control any adult who might work with or have any significant exposure to children and vulnerable adults.

The consequences go far wider than the strict letter of the law. Just as censorship generates a "chilling effect" on speech, so placing the question of individual fitness to work in certain jobs in the criminal arena is creating a culture in which private conduct becomes the touchstone by which public acceptability is judged.

Railing against a court ruling that might just slightly restrict the right of the British Press to intrude on people's private lives, one tabloid opined recently: "What would your response be if your child's teacher enjoyed inflicting pain on others and took part in S&M orgies with prostitutes?"

"Wouldn't you want to know?"

"Don't you have a right to know?"

If the individual was not inflicting their private lives on their pupils, many would think the answer to the second question should be a resounding "No."

However, in researching discrimination on grounds of sexuality in the UK, the author of this article has encountered a terrifying and largely unreported story of individuals in growing fear for their jobs, homes and relationships. A teacher sacked for writing erotica (under an assumed name): another in trouble for their "pagan" beliefs; and yet a third individual whose application to become a magistrate was rejected out of hand the moment he owned up to his involvement in BDSM.

This, would appear to be a foretaste of the new law: a growing culture of "Codes of Practice" that makes "bringing the profession into disrepute" sufficient grounds for a dismissal. Hand in hand with this development go two apparently contradictory trends: on the one hand, a new timorousness amongst those whose sexuality is in any respect not vanilla; on the other, a growing politicization of all sexual minorities.

The history of this law begins with a requirement for anyone working in such roles—whether paid or voluntary—to undergo a CRB (criminal record bureau) check. This is a one-off check, carried out whenever an individual applies for a new job, to let employers know whether they have serious criminal convictions—or whether other non-proven allegations have been made against them.

This last category is controversial: but court precedent rules that the police are bound to retain information on allegations they know of; and that they should pass on such information even where these allegations are known to be untrue. Not unsurprisingly, this has made teaching increasingly unpopular as a career choice, since a single unfounded allegation is now all it takes to destroy decades of dedicated service.

The problem with the CRB approach is the need for repeat checks. Someone who changes jobs twice in a year, and who also volunteers within their community might need four or five checks carried out—and they or their employer would have to pay about £30 for each one.

So the government came up with the bright idea of what is now called the "Vetting Database." From July next year, anyone who works in what is politely referred to as a "regulated job" will need to be vetted to make sure that they are "safe" to be put in that position. An individual can be barred from regulated work for a variety of reasons, including criminal convictions and what the law quaintly refers to as "conduct involving sexually explicit images depicting violence."

The whole scheme is run by a body rather misleadingly called the "Independent Safeguarding Authority" (ISA)—misleading, since it is in fact employed by government. According to the government's own estimates, some 11.3 million individuals will eventually be covered by the Vetting Database—or just over one-third of the UK workforce. Independent analysis suggests somewhere between 14 and 16 million ending up vetted.

The "think of the children" lobby has been quick to suggest that "if just one life is saved," no one can possibly object. In fact, opposition to the scheme is growing, as it begins to dawn on ordinary people up and down the UK that simply helping out in their local community—even taking it in turns to drive their friends' children to sporting events— could now require them to be vetted, on pain of a large fine, or even prison, if they fail to comply.

However, it is to sexual minorities that the scheme poses the greatest danger. At some point in its conception, the planners of the Vetting Database moved beyond regarding this as just a tool for recording actual crimes, and moved on to the terrifying, Orwellian business of predicting risk.

A leaked copy of the guidance notes implies a scoring system, not altogether different from the sort of systems used to check out whether we are creditworthy. In this case, however, it will not be credit-worthiness that is in play, but whether some impersonal scoring scheme deems us worthy to work alongside children.