Sanchita Hosali is the CEO of the British Institute of Human Rights. She has kindly written this blog for us as part of series of blogs we’ve commissioned as part of a Strategy Review of our Strengthening Civil Society (Law & Human Rights) programme in 2025. This piece joins perspectives on the prospects for the human rights and legal landscape from England, Northern Ireland, and Scotland.
Looking ahead to 2030 demands both realism and resolve, the ability to dream while tackling the urgency of now. Our Human Rights Act (HRA) remains one of the most practical and quietly transformative laws we have. It brings universal rights into everyday decisions, whether in hospitals, housing offices, or policymaking in Whitehall rooms, long before anything reaches a courtroom. Yet it is often a lightning rod, debated far more than it is understood. Too often, it’s framed as an abstract symbol rather than what it truly is: an everyday rulebook that keeps public power in check and upholds dignity when it matters most.
The current slope
I’m writing this in the wake of the UK Government’s announcement which would effectively curtail the role of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) in immigration cases. This isn’t a minor adjustment, it’s a signal. It sharpens the disconnect between political rhetoric and the reality of what human rights mean in people’s lives. It’s a disconnect I see – and actively challenge – firsthand in Whitehall discussions.
Ministers claim to be addressing division. In truth, they are (I hope inadvertently) fuelling a corrosive narrative: that human rights, not failing systems stripped bare, are to blame. This framing is wrong and dangerous. It suggests human rights are subject to the political mood of the day, rather than universal and enduring.
It strikes at the heart of what human rights are meant to do: hold power to account. When universal human rights are reframed as privileges granted by the state, they become fragile. If one group’s rights can be eroded, all rights are at risk. It is sadly the easy – and I believe lazy – path to tread. The harder, braver choice is a government that takes pride in accountability and commits to making rights real for everyone. That means tackling the systemic failures that leave human rights as the last safety net for so many. Blaming rights for those failures is not only wrong; it is dangerous for now and for what it makes possible in the future.
Public opinion: more resilient than rhetoric
Recent YouGov polling shows a picture far more nuanced than headlines suggest: 46% want the UK to stay in the ECHR, only 29% support leaving. But polling is blunt, it gives numbers, not the texture of real lives. BIHR’s work is the opposite: nuanced, messy, grounded in everyday realities where people encounter the state in housing, health, welfare, care, and education.
What we see is a gap that often looks like apathy or even opposition, but in reality, it’s about translation and conversation. Nearly half of the YouGov respondents said they know little about the ECHR, and 15% know nothing at all.
We see the same with community groups who seek our support and those “ordinary people” working in services – receptionists, nurses, teachers, benefits advisors, cleaners. They rarely start out positive, but rather than hostility it’s usually about not having the information in a way that makes sense for their reality. Tackle that and the change is striking. Knowledge ratings in our programmes rise from under 2.4/5 to 4/5. Positivity about human rights jumps to 4.9/5, alongside confidence and a clear sense of relevance to people’s lives and work.
[People] rarely start out positive, but rather than hostility it’s usually about not having the information in a way that makes sense for their reality.
This is the opportunity: to avert the looming crisis of HRA and ECHR removal by making human rights visible and relevant in daily life. The more embedded they are in everyday decisions, the more resilient they become in politics. After 20 years in this space, I have little patience for claims that this work is “too hard” or “too complex”. We see it happen every day – but it needs resourcing. It does not just happen.
Firefighting to Foundations
Too often, the HRA is treated as a fire alarm – pulled only when things go wrong – rather than the foundation for preventing harm and shaping fairer systems. Sections 3 and 6 of the Act provide proactive duties: legislation should be interpreted compatibly with rights, and public authorities must not act incompatibly with them.
These are powerful advocacy tools. They enable campaigners to influence policy design before harm occurs. By 2030, I want to see civil society using these duties strategically; embedding the HRA in mainstream advocacy, not relegating it to niche legal circles.
By 2030, I want to see civil society using these duties strategically…
Litigation will always matter, but the HRA gives us the means to act earlier. It’s not just about fixing failures case by case; it’s about shaping systems, so failures don’t happen.
The Baring Foundation’s Strengthening Civil Society programme’s evaluation findings reinforce what BIHR experiences daily. Meaningful change happens when legal specialists and non-legal advocates work together, combining technical expertise with lived experience. Rights must move out of courtrooms and into the systems where they matter most.
Projects to power-building
Sustainable human rights work depends on infrastructure, not incidents. Crisis-driven campaigns defend rights in the moment, and we have had to fight them many times over the last two decades with increasing danger. But long-term capacity built on legal literacy, leadership, and integrated action – that’s about embedding human rights into civil society’s fabric.
As someone who leads one of those infrastructure groups, I’m acutely aware of the bias I bring, but also acutely aware of the cliff edge that has emerged as funders move to more and more specific issue- or place-based focuses.
We need resourcing that champions long-term power-building, not only short-term projects. Investing in bringing together practical human rights legal expertise that translates the law into the action with grassroots groups, national organisations, and everyone in between. Infrastructure may not be glamorous, but it wins in the end. Human rights are no exception.
Fatigue to fluency
After years of political volatility, civil society fatigue is real. Organisations have been forced into reactive modes, responding to crisis after crisis. Yet moments of hope are clear. When communities understand and use the HRA confidently, something transformative happens. People realise they are not asking for favours but for dignity and equality. Decisions about family life, health care, or welfare shift to recognise humanity.
When communities understand and use the HRA confidently, something transformative happens
Human rights can reshape systems as well as individual lives. That isn’t a distant dream, I see it every day at BIHR. This is grounded hope: not naïve optimism, but confidence drawn from evidence. The HRA works, not only in courts but in community centres, care homes, social work decisions, and policy design.
The greatest threat: neglect, not repeal
The real danger is not simply outright repeal but erosion through neglect that will make the repeal inevitable. Legal protections are at their weakest when they are not understood, used, or embedded in everyday practice. The best defence is not louder slogans but better practice, using the law we already have to build fairer, more accountable systems.
Civil society must move from knowing about human rights to using them confidently, routinely, unapologetically. Funders can help by supporting long-term programmes of capacity-building and encouraging collaboration rather than competition or siloing.
An honest hope
I do have hope for the next five years (despite my natural tendency to pessimism!) but it’s hope that is grounded. The political environment is challenging, but I believe – through the evidence I see daily – that public support for human rights is stronger than rhetoric suggests. We have a legal framework that works; what we need now is clarity, collaboration and courage to use it fully.
Our Human Rights Act is not too hard or too complex. It is a tool for everyday justice. Let’s stop treating it as an emergency measure and start using it as the foundation for the future; that’s a five year vision full of hope.