Justice System's Failure to Protect Victims Must End

Broken Promises and Broken Systems

When I first heard about the government's plan to create specialist rape courts in England and Wales, my initial reaction was one of cautious optimism. The idea itself isn't revolutionary—it's long overdue. But as a journalist who has spent years investigating the failures within our justice system, I've seen too many promises fall flat on their face. This is not another empty gesture from ministers who think they can wave a magic wand and solve deep-rooted problems.

What we're seeing now is an admission of failure, yes—but it's also a reminder that this government has been slow to act when it matters most. In 2025, the average time for a rape case to reach trial in Crown Court was 424 days. That's more than a year—and for many victims, it's been years since their lives were upended by an assault. And let's not forget the pre-trial delays that compound this problem even further. These are not just bureaucratic inefficiencies; these are real-life tragedies.

"The vast majority of those who suffer sexual violence are women and girls, yet our courts continue to treat their cases like they're second-class crimes." — Editorial, The Guardian

But the statistics don't tell the whole story. They don't show the woman who drops out of her own case because she can't take the pressure anymore, or the family that watches a perpetrator walk free while their loved one waits for justice to come. This is why the creation of specialist courts must be seen not as a solution in itself, but as a small crack in a system that's been built on indifference.

Victims Are Still Being Failed

The truth is, this government has made some moves toward accountability—like the recent extension of review periods for sentences and a new Victims and Courts Act—but these changes feel insufficient. We're talking about a system where victims are expected to relive trauma in front of strangers, wait months or years just to be heard, and then face the chilling possibility that their very presence will be used against them by a prosecutor who may not fully understand the gravity of what they've endured.

I've spent countless hours interviewing survivors who were too afraid to report their assaults at all. I've watched as they sat in waiting rooms with no privacy, where their pain was broadcasted for all to see. I've seen how many victims never even complete the process, not out of guilt or shame, but because the system is designed to break them down.

The promise of specialist courts comes with real requirements: dedicated training for judges and staff, separate waiting areas for victims, and remote access to sentencing hearings. These aren't luxuries—they're necessities that have been ignored for far too long. If implementation is rushed or underfunded, we'll end up with token gestures wrapped in official-sounding language.

Why It Matters: A Broader Context

This isn't just about rape courts—it's part of a larger pattern of how the UK treats violence against women and girls. In fact, this initiative is one of many steps outlined in the government's own strategy to reduce such violence by half over the next ten years.

But that plan was underfunded, and the same can be said for these new courts. The prime minister has set an ambitious timeline, but we're already seeing signs of trouble. The police forces are expected to have specialist units in place by the end of next year, but there's no guarantee that those teams will be properly staffed or supported.

And what about the real issues behind these crimes? As I've written before, violence doesn't exist in a vacuum—it's shaped by cultural attitudes. That's why this week's announcement also included two new taskforces: one to focus on rape justice, and another to address misogynistic behavior across society.

The second is particularly important because it shows that the government recognizes the need for more than just legal reforms. If we want lasting change, we must confront how deeply ingrained misogyny remains in our institutions and public discourse.

Real Accountability Starts Here

This is not a moment to celebrate; it's a moment to push harder. We've seen the same promises before—more funding, better training, improved support services—but the results have always lagged behind expectations.

The government needs to start walking the walk now. There must be transparency in how these courts are funded and staffed, regular reviews of performance metrics, and most importantly, a commitment to listening to those who actually live with this system every day.

We must ensure that the voices of survivors are not just heard, but centered in decision-making. No more tokenism. No more false hope. What we're witnessing is the beginning of something bigger: a reckoning with how far our country has come—and how far it still has to go.

In the coming months, I'll be monitoring progress closely. If this initiative fails to deliver meaningful improvements, if victims continue to suffer in silence, or if these courts become another example of bureaucratic delay, then we will have failed them all over again.

Looking Ahead: The Long Road Forward

The government's plan is not a silver bullet. It's a glimmer of light in a system that has often been blind to victims' needs. But as someone who has dedicated my career to exposing injustices, I know how fragile these moments can be.

There are other challenges too—court backlogs, the rise of online sexual abuse, and an alarming trend in pornography depicting strangulation. These issues must be tackled head-on, not swept under the rug like a political inconvenience.

Ultimately, what's needed isn't just better courtrooms or new taskforces—it's a complete overhaul of our approach to justice. We need accountability from every level of society: from prosecutors who refuse to charge cases unless there's “perfect” evidence, to police departments that fail to support survivors in the early stages of reporting.

The people deserve better than a system built on delay and disinterest. They deserve justice, dignity, and protection—not just when they report an assault, but throughout the entire process.