The National Police Chiefs’ Council Should Abandon its Efforts to Salvage Non-Crime

The National Police Chiefs’ Council (NPCC), that august body from the Cameron era (which also gave rise to the College of Policing and Police and Crime Commissioners), has finally decided that Non-Crime Hate Incidents (NCHIs) might not actually be functioning as well as was initially planned. It has published an internal report addressing NCHIs, with the stated aim to reform current police practices.

NCHIs are the work of the College of Policing, which introduced the concept through its ‘Hate Crime Operational Guidance’ document published in 2014. Notably, NCHIs were not established as a result of Parliamentary legislation and at no stage prior to their implementation were they presented to, or scrutinised by, any publicly elected body.

The NPCC’s recommendations in the report are intended to resolve widespread criticisms regarding overzealous policing and the inability of officers to distinguish between appropriate investigation and lawful free speech. But tellingly, the report does not address the public concern that NCHIs by their nature involve the police penalising individuals for non-crime; nor does it explore whether the notion of the police investigating matters which aren’t criminal is valid in the first place.

In an apparent attempt to legitimise their continued existence to a sceptical public, the NPCC report opens by asserting that NCHIs originated from the recommendations of the Stephen Lawrence Inquiry, characterising NCHIs as a “methodology to support the police in monitoring incidents linked to hate”.

This association serves to anchor the concept of NCHIs in the context of a notorious crime from the 1990s, a period markedly different to that of today. The murder of Stephen Lawrence is widely acknowledged as a defining event in the social history of post-war Britain, its impact so profound that any criticisms of Sir William Macpherson’s recommendations are likely to be muted. The NPCC, of course, knows this.

Despite this, it is worth noting that the College of Policing’s Hate Crime Operational Guidance – the document from which NCHIs are said to directly stem – was not published until 15 years after the 1999 Lawrence Inquiry Report. This considerable time gap raises questions about the direct connection between the inquiry and the current framework for NCHIs, suggesting that their justification may, in part, rest on the enduring influence of the Lawrence case rather than an unbroken policy lineage.

The NPCC report also refers to the recent attacks on the Manchester synagogue and Peacehaven mosques to claim that it is “essential” that the police continue to have the ability to monitor hate and hostility in “our” communities, seemingly oblivious to the fact that these incidents were serious crimes and not heated online spats. It also seems to have escaped their notice that NCHIs were introduced partly to avert such events.

The main criticism of police handling of NCHIs has been an overzealousness, particularly in the online environment, where expressions deemed offensive but not criminal have prompted police intervention. A number of the more high-profile online cases, particularly that relating to comedy writer Graham Linehan, have involved complainants (automatically termed ‘victims’ by the investigating officers) who, at the very least, have made complaining to the police a significant side hustle.

A central challenge for frontline officers is distinguishing between behaviour that warrants police attention and that which constitutes legitimate free speech. The NPCC’s report aims to empower officers by providing “decision-making frameworks and illustrative scenarios”. The proof of the pudding will hopefully be in whether this allows officers to use a degree of common sense in judging whether certain speech (online or otherwise) should be worthy of police attention. In my view, nearly all speech, unless it’s a direct incitement to violence, should not warrant police interest. However, modern legislation, such as the Crime and Disorder Act 1998 and the Sentencing Act 2020, mean that certain additional forms of speech have been criminalised.

Although better training may boost officers’ confidence, real-world complexities, particularly in the online space where tone and context are often unclear, mean that uncertainty will persist. As a result, officers will desire further managerial oversight, increasing the chance that the aforementioned malicious NCHI allegations escalate, since the more senior officers, influenced by political pressure and career considerations, tend to favour the more ‘progressive’ policing strategies – as will some of the greener junior officers, who by dint of their generation are inclined to be more sympathetic to such strategies. 

In terms of the logging and counting of NCHIs, the report does acknowledge that the standard of recording incidents is outdated. An auditable incident warranting police attention is presently defined as “a single distinct event or occurrence which disturbs an individual, group or community’s quality of life or causes them concern”. This broad definition establishes a low threshold for the documentation of incidents and may account for many of the more ludicrous NCHIs which have gained national attention. It could be, rather than gain a degree of notoriety, the police are more disinclined to record some of the more asinine incidents, as most forces have seen a reduction in NCHI numbers in recent years (aside from a hefty rise in antisemitic hate incidents since October 2023).

The report recommends changing the definition to something which encompasses an incident which may be “relevant to policing for preventing and solving crime”, but it is debatable as to how much such a change would affect the officers investigating hate crime incidents; certainly, in 24 years of service, I was never made aware of any authoritative definition of an ‘incident’.

Effective reforms to reduce unnecessary police intervention could include providing clear guidance for officers on when to record or investigate reports. But their success depends on precise guidelines, vigorous training and consistent application across forces, something which we haven’t seen thus far. Any continued ambiguity will lead to further subjective interpretation and over-policing.

But, ultimately, the police should not be investigating NCHIs at all, and these latest recommendations constitute the merest tinkering. There is enough real, unquestionable crime taking place on Britain’s streets for the police to be dealing with, a sentiment widely shared by my colleagues when I was in service.

With the country’s largest police force, London’s Metropolitan Police, now stating that it will no longer be investigating NCHIs, the NPCC report, despite its recommendations to reform policing practices, may become irrelevant anyway. We may see enthusiasm for them wither on the vine – and that can’t come soon enough.

Paul Birch is a former police officer and counter-terrorism specialist. You can read his Substack here.