Public inquiries cost millions and drag on for decades. But when those inquiries target state-sponsored misconduct, running out of patience looks an awful lot like protectionism.
Right now, victims of intrusive police surveillance are sounding the alarm over a government push to pull the plug on the official investigation into undercover policing. Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood has pointed to a hefty £144m price tag and a decade-long timeline to justify questioning the future of the probe.
If you look past the official budget concerns, you will find a different reality. Shutting down or narrowing the inquiry now stops critical evidence from ever seeing the light of day. Over 2,000 objectors are calling it what it is: a government-backed cover-up designed to bury institutional police abuse.
The Real Cost of the Undercover Policing Inquiry
The independent judge-led public inquiry started way back in 2015. It was originally scheduled to wrap up in three years. Instead, it has crawled forward, uncovering decades of systemic dirty tricks by secret units like the Special Demonstration Squad (SDS).
We have learned how state agents infiltrated political groups, stole the identities of dead children, lied in courtrooms, and spied on grieving families like the parents of Stephen Lawrence. Worse still, officers systematically deceived women into long-term sexual relationships, occasionally fathering children under false identities.
These are not minor procedural errors. They are massive violations of human rights committed by the state against ordinary citizens. Yet, the Home Office launched a public consultation framing the issue entirely around taxpayer expense and schedule delays.
Why Victims Call the Consultation Rigged
The consultation offers three paths forward, and none of them look good for transparency. Critics and campaign groups point out that the options presented by the government are fundamentally flawed.
You are basically given a choice between a neutered investigation with a narrower remit, an inquiry stripped of legal powers to compel reluctant witnesses, or scrapping the independent probe entirely and relying on voluntary police disclosures.
Asking police forces to hand over incriminating documents voluntarily after decades of institutional deceit is laughable. Take away the legal power to force testimony, and you lose the teeth required to extract the truth.
Kate Wilson, who discovered her partner of two years was an undercover operative named Mark Kennedy, put it bluntly. She noted that curtailing the inquiry guarantees we will never understand the full extent of the misconduct.
What Happens Next
The public consultation closes today, but the fight over accountability is far from over. The state wants to turn the page on a deeply embarrassing chapter of British policing.
Transparency cannot have an expiration date just because it gets uncomfortable for those in power. If the government genuinely cares about restoring public trust in law enforcement, burying the remaining evidence is the absolute worst way to do it. You cannot claim to fix systemic corruption by pulling a curtain over the final act.
