A new change to the law acknowledges that not all underage relationships are abusive. It’s rightly called the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ clause – but are we missing the point? Our reflex to see manipulation in any relationship that goes beyond narrow expectations shows how little we trust people to love on their own terms.
In a rare moment of sensible reform, the government’s new “Romeo and Juliet” clause—added to the Crime and Policing Bill—acknowledges something many of us have known for years: that not every underage sexual relationship is abusive or exploitative.
Sometimes, it’s just two young people in love, or experimenting, or figuring things out – and while the law must always stand guard against abuse, it must also learn to stop criminalising normal human development.
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The clause gives professionals like teachers and doctors the discretion not to report consensual sexual activity between teenagers aged over 13, provided there is no evidence of harm, coercion, or a concerning age or maturity gap.
So this is not a loophole for predators—it’s a legal recognition that relationships between young people can be complex, and not all of them need to be treated like a safeguarding emergency.
This marks a shift—however slight—away from a long-standing cultural obsession: the presumption that manipulation, control, or deviance must be at the heart of any underage sexual relationship.
Buy Cruel Britannia in print here. Buy the Cruel Britannia ebook here. Or just click on the image!
For years, the reflex has been to see young people not as agents of their own lives, but as victims-in-waiting. The result has been shame, secrecy, and fear – and a reluctance on the part of those young people to seek support or advice when they need it most.
But the contradiction doesn’t end there because, while this clause makes space for discretion and trust, it also shines a light on the uncomfortable truth that we don’t extend that trust equally.
For example – and I’m using the example in the BBC’s article – introduce even a small age difference into a teenage relationship—say, a 14-year-old and a 17-year-old—and the presumption of harm snaps back into place.
No matter how long the two may have known each other, no matter how mutual the affection, no matter how gradual or organic the progression of their bond, society’s reaction is usually swift and damning:
“Why would he be with someone that young?”
“What kind of girl is she, getting involved with an older boy?”
“What’s really going on here?”
That reaction—the knee-jerk panic at any sign of imbalance—isn’t always rooted in malice. It often (but not always, I fear) comes from a genuine desire to protect the vulnerable.
But protection can quickly become prejudice. When every relationship is viewed through a lens of suspicion, it becomes impossible to see the people in it clearly.
And the suspicion doesn’t stop at adolescence.
The narratives we build around teenage relationships—in this example, that age difference means manipulation—stick with us well into adulthood.
Two people, both legally capable of making their own choices, find each other. But if one is significantly older than the other, the whispering begins. “That can’t be real love.” “He must be controlling her.” “She must be after something.”
It’s as though no relationship that doesn’t conform to a very narrow age band can be accepted as sincere. And yet, we know instinctively that human connection rarely fits such rigid templates.
People fall in love across boundaries—not only of age, but of class, background, and experience. I’m sure you could name others.
Sometimes, those differences are part of what draws them together. But our social scripts tell us that difference equals danger, that older equals exploitative, and that imbalance—real or perceived—invalidates the bond.
The irony is that by obsessing over these supposed imbalances, we might miss the real power dynamics that do damage – coercion, isolation, emotional manipulation – that can occur between people of the same age just as easily as between people of different ones. Age alone is not the measure of harm. Context is.
Just to be absolutely clear: none of this is an argument for lowering the age of consent, nor is it a plea to “look the other way” when a young person is being harmed. Grooming is real. Abuse is real. Exploitation thrives in silence, and legal protections matter.
But overreach has consequences, too. When every relationship is treated with the same level of suspicion, the genuinely dangerous ones can hide in plain sight—because young people are too afraid to talk. Because everything is criminalised. Because the law becomes a wall, not a bridge.
What the Romeo and Juliet clause recognises—tentatively, quietly—is that human relationships need to be judged with care, not blanket assumptions. That discretion is not dereliction. And that sometimes, the most responsible thing a professional can do is not to panic.
This new clause has been named after Shakespeare’s doomed lovers, but perhaps we’ve missed the lesson.
Romeo and Juliet weren’t destroyed by their own youthful passion.
They were destroyed by the forces around them—by a society that couldn’t accept their relationship, by families that demanded obedience, by systems that offered no room for empathy or exception.
The tragedy was not their love. It was the absence of understanding.
Today, centuries after Shakespeare put them on stage and in the spotlight, how often do we repeat the mistake?
How often do we look at love—especially across boundaries that are (let’s be honest) artificial—and assume it must be wrong? How often do we silence young people with our panic, rather than support them with our care?
🧡 **Support Vox Political**
If you value independent political journalism that holds power to account — without corporate or party influence — please consider supporting this work. Even £1 helps keep it going.
👉 Support here via Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/voxpolitical
Until we can learn to see relationships as complex, individual, and worthy of context, we’ll keep playing out the same old tragedy—over and over again.
The Romeo and Juliet clause is a small step toward making space for nuance.
But it will take far more than legislation to undo the damage of our social reflexes.
Vox Political needs your help!
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It’s rightly called the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ clause – but are we missing the point?
A new change to the law acknowledges that not all underage relationships are abusive. It’s rightly called the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ clause – but are we missing the point? Our reflex to see manipulation in any relationship that goes beyond narrow expectations shows how little we trust people to love on their own terms.
In a rare moment of sensible reform, the government’s new “Romeo and Juliet” clause—added to the Crime and Policing Bill—acknowledges something many of us have known for years: that not every underage sexual relationship is abusive or exploitative.
Sometimes, it’s just two young people in love, or experimenting, or figuring things out – and while the law must always stand guard against abuse, it must also learn to stop criminalising normal human development.
🧡 **Support Vox Political**
If you value independent political journalism that holds power to account — without corporate or party influence — please consider supporting this work. Even £1 helps keep it going.
👉 Support here via Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/voxpolitical
The clause gives professionals like teachers and doctors the discretion not to report consensual sexual activity between teenagers aged over 13, provided there is no evidence of harm, coercion, or a concerning age or maturity gap.
So this is not a loophole for predators—it’s a legal recognition that relationships between young people can be complex, and not all of them need to be treated like a safeguarding emergency.
This marks a shift—however slight—away from a long-standing cultural obsession: the presumption that manipulation, control, or deviance must be at the heart of any underage sexual relationship.
Buy Cruel Britannia in print here. Buy the Cruel Britannia ebook here. Or just click on the image!
For years, the reflex has been to see young people not as agents of their own lives, but as victims-in-waiting. The result has been shame, secrecy, and fear – and a reluctance on the part of those young people to seek support or advice when they need it most.
But the contradiction doesn’t end there because, while this clause makes space for discretion and trust, it also shines a light on the uncomfortable truth that we don’t extend that trust equally.
For example – and I’m using the example in the BBC’s article – introduce even a small age difference into a teenage relationship—say, a 14-year-old and a 17-year-old—and the presumption of harm snaps back into place.
No matter how long the two may have known each other, no matter how mutual the affection, no matter how gradual or organic the progression of their bond, society’s reaction is usually swift and damning:
“Why would he be with someone that young?”
“What kind of girl is she, getting involved with an older boy?”
“What’s really going on here?”
That reaction—the knee-jerk panic at any sign of imbalance—isn’t always rooted in malice. It often (but not always, I fear) comes from a genuine desire to protect the vulnerable.
But protection can quickly become prejudice. When every relationship is viewed through a lens of suspicion, it becomes impossible to see the people in it clearly.
And the suspicion doesn’t stop at adolescence.
The narratives we build around teenage relationships—in this example, that age difference means manipulation—stick with us well into adulthood.
Two people, both legally capable of making their own choices, find each other. But if one is significantly older than the other, the whispering begins. “That can’t be real love.” “He must be controlling her.” “She must be after something.”
It’s as though no relationship that doesn’t conform to a very narrow age band can be accepted as sincere. And yet, we know instinctively that human connection rarely fits such rigid templates.
People fall in love across boundaries—not only of age, but of class, background, and experience. I’m sure you could name others.
Sometimes, those differences are part of what draws them together. But our social scripts tell us that difference equals danger, that older equals exploitative, and that imbalance—real or perceived—invalidates the bond.
The irony is that by obsessing over these supposed imbalances, we might miss the real power dynamics that do damage – coercion, isolation, emotional manipulation – that can occur between people of the same age just as easily as between people of different ones. Age alone is not the measure of harm. Context is.
Just to be absolutely clear: none of this is an argument for lowering the age of consent, nor is it a plea to “look the other way” when a young person is being harmed. Grooming is real. Abuse is real. Exploitation thrives in silence, and legal protections matter.
But overreach has consequences, too. When every relationship is treated with the same level of suspicion, the genuinely dangerous ones can hide in plain sight—because young people are too afraid to talk. Because everything is criminalised. Because the law becomes a wall, not a bridge.
What the Romeo and Juliet clause recognises—tentatively, quietly—is that human relationships need to be judged with care, not blanket assumptions. That discretion is not dereliction. And that sometimes, the most responsible thing a professional can do is not to panic.
This new clause has been named after Shakespeare’s doomed lovers, but perhaps we’ve missed the lesson.
Romeo and Juliet weren’t destroyed by their own youthful passion.
They were destroyed by the forces around them—by a society that couldn’t accept their relationship, by families that demanded obedience, by systems that offered no room for empathy or exception.
The tragedy was not their love. It was the absence of understanding.
Today, centuries after Shakespeare put them on stage and in the spotlight, how often do we repeat the mistake?
How often do we look at love—especially across boundaries that are (let’s be honest) artificial—and assume it must be wrong? How often do we silence young people with our panic, rather than support them with our care?
🧡 **Support Vox Political**
If you value independent political journalism that holds power to account — without corporate or party influence — please consider supporting this work. Even £1 helps keep it going.
👉 Support here via Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/voxpolitical
Until we can learn to see relationships as complex, individual, and worthy of context, we’ll keep playing out the same old tragedy—over and over again.
The Romeo and Juliet clause is a small step toward making space for nuance.
But it will take far more than legislation to undo the damage of our social reflexes.
Vox Political needs your help!
If you want to support this site
(but don’t want to give your money to advertisers)
you can make a one-off donation here:
Be among the first to know what’s going on! Here are the ways to manage it:
1) Register with us by clicking on ‘Subscribe’ (bottom right of the home page). You can then receive notifications of every new article that is posted here.
2) Follow VP on Twitter @VoxPolitical
3) Like the Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/VoxPolitical/
Join the Vox Political Facebook page.
4) You could even make Vox Political your homepage at http://voxpoliticalonline.com
5) Follow Vox Political writer Mike Sivier on BlueSky
6) Join the MeWe page at https://mewe.com/p-front/voxpolitical
7) Feel free to comment!
And do share with your family and friends – so they don’t miss out!
If you have appreciated this article, don’t forget to share it using the buttons at the bottom of this page. Politics is about everybody – so let’s try to get everybody involved!
Buy Vox Political books so we can continue
fighting for the facts.
Cruel Britannia is available
in either print or eBook format here:
The Livingstone Presumption is available
in either print or eBook format here:
Health Warning: Government! is now available
in either print or eBook format here:
The first collection, Strong Words and Hard Times,
is still available in either print or eBook format here:
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