‘I know several senior political figures who no woman would want to be alone with’

“What are you doing dragging this up from 18 years ago?” an exasperated Tory minister asked me earlier this week. I’d had the temerity to finally speak publicly about the time Stanley Johnson smacked me hard on the backside at the Conservative Party conference in 2003 (something he claims not to recall). Perhaps unsurprisingly, not everyone in the Party was happy to see this dirty laundry receive a public airing. Johnson is, after all, the Prime Minister’s father. The behaviour I talked about on Sky News – I mentioned that he accompanied his inappropriate touching with a vulgar remark about my “lovely seat” – was, of course, an embarrassment.

But I could have used more recent examples of sexual harassment in the world of Westminster politics. This week, since breaking my silence about my grim encounter with Johnson Senior, I have been deluged with stories from other women about what their senior male colleagues have subjected them to. Dozens of professional women have been in contact – lawyers, NHS workers, police officers, head teachers – to detail the inappropriate touching, remarks and other sexualised behaviour they have experienced at work. I’ve heard from female civil servants who have been touched and leered at by their male bosses: older men with power and influence over these women’s careers and future ambitions.

So it isn’t only a problem in Westminster – or Pestminster, as it has been nicknamed. But, I’m sad to say, it persists in politics, and among the messages I’ve received there have been plenty from women in the Houses of Parliament. Many are understandably too scared to name the male politicians in question.

In fact, off the top of my head, I can think of several senior political figures with whom no woman would want to be alone in a room. I have even warned my female colleagues about these men: grandees from both the Conservative and the Labour parties, from the Commons and the Lords. “You might want to avoid him,” I have quietly advised about the figures in question, whom I don’t name now as they are not my own stories to tell.

Earlier this month, Rob Roberts, the disgraced MP for Delyn in North Wales, was given his Conservative Party membership back (though not the whip), following a 12-week suspension for sexually harassing a member of his staff. This too is unacceptable. We wouldn’t have welcomed him back if he had racially abused somebody, or acted in a discriminatory way against a disabled person. But apparently being a sex pest is no bar to being a member of the Party.

It’s depressing that this remains the case in 2021; that Parliament continues to be a toxic workplace, at least some of the time. We work in close proximity to one another, putting in long and antisocial hours under high pressure, and fuelled by plenty of adrenalin.

Many are also fuelled by something else, and that’s alcohol. The Strangers’ Bar is open again. It’s far too common to drink a bit too much there and then do things nobody sensible would do while sober. Things they might regret in the cold light of day.

The same is all too true during party conference season – and not only at the annual Tory gathering; I’ve heard tales from the Labour conferences too. There’s far too much alcohol flowing and the behaviour that sometimes ensues is unedifying to say the least, potentially criminal at worst.

As a result, I find the Conservative Party conference a hideous experience. And if it’s hideous for me at 49, imagine what it must be like for younger women, and also for younger gay men – a group, by the way, for whom the permissive culture at these gatherings can be utterly horrific.

I very nearly spoke out about it before this year’s event. What stopped me was the fear that if I said I was uncomfortable with certain behaviour seen there, I’d have the fire turned on me. People would try to dredge up anything they could to turn this around, to make it about the behaviour of the victim, not the perpetrator. That’s an all too common reaction, and not just for women in the public eye, when they put their heads above the parapet.

Johnson Senior’s response to my allegation this week was telling. “I have no recollection of Caroline Nokes at all – but there you go. And no reply... Hey ho, good luck and thanks.” Patronising and demeaning, yes, and clearly an attempt to deflect from his conduct. There was no denial, no apology and no hint of an acknowledgement he might even have done something wrong.

This is often the problem: that men don’t even consider this kind of inappropriate touching as being out of order. It barely registers with them.

So what is the solution? This week in the House of Commons I asked the Prime Minister if he thought women would have more confidence reporting offences “if public sexual harassment was a specific crime”, and whether early intervention might stop “those harassing women becoming sex offenders?” He appeared to agree with me on the second premise, but then went on to say there are plenty of laws to deal with it already. This may be true, but there isn’t one single law which a woman could point to when reporting it to police.

I want him to tackle this properly, and sincerely hope he will lead from the front. I think he is committed to tackling violence against women and girls, but he could make a very symbolic change to show his support to 51 per cent of the population.

Changing the culture of male entitlement starts early. The Government needs to start investing in clear teaching in schools so that young people understand it is their responsibility not to touch others inappropriately, or worse. We need to all agree that it should not, instead, be down to women to keep themselves safe (an assumption that means they can then be blamed when something does go wrong).

The minister who chided me for speaking out about Stanley Johnson was the thin end of the wedge. I’ve been criticised in certain parts of the media and was sent a rape threat and abuse online by members of the public. My only regret is not having spoken out in 2003. The truth is I lacked the confidence back then. Johnson Senior had served as an MEP and was clearly not without influence. He was, at the time, the Conservative candidate for Teignbridge in Devon (a seat he did not win). I would have had no idea whom to even complain to. I was 31, in politics that’s still very young, and was scared if I did complain, I’d have been singled out as a troublemaker and shunned. This wasn’t a groundless fear: I’d seen it happen to other women.

Looking back, I should have told the Tory Party: “This man behaves in an inappropriate way towards women. He shouldn’t be allowed to be a Tory candidate.” But had I dared to say this, I’d still have had no confidence the Party would have dealt with it properly. More likely they’d instead have dealt with me.

Now I’m old enough, and senior enough, to have no fear and to have a very significant platform. It’s this that gives me the confidence to go public, so that future generations of women, and indeed some young men, don’t have to suffer like we have.

A lobbyist once said to me: “Do you want to be prime minister one day?” When I said no, he instantly asked: “What is it in your sex life you’re trying to hide?” I still encounter him now, a man who moves in powerful circles and thought it was acceptable to say something like that to me.

I hope that in years to come we’ll look back at this toxic culture as a thing of the past. In the meantime, I’ll keep talking. Speaking up and calling things out is hard. But brushing it under the carpet will not bring about the cultural change we still so badly need.

As told to Rosa Silverman

Caroline Nokes MP is Chair of the Women and Equalities Committee