What Could a Burnham Government Mean for LGBTQIA+ Communities?
- Medium
- Jun 21
- 8 min read
With Andy Burnham now expected to become Prime Minister, LGBTQIA+ communities face an important question: what will this change of government actually mean for us?
As a queer woman in my forties, I have lived through enough political change to know that governments matter. The laws they pass matter. The priorities they set matter. The people they appoint matter. For LGBTQIA+ communities, particularly after the last few years, those choices could have profound consequences.
I grew up under Section 28. I came out in an era when equal marriage did not exist, employment protections were limited and LGBTQIA+ visibility in public life was still the exception rather than the norm. I have also lived through one of the most remarkable periods of social progress in British history, and much of that progress happened under Labour governments. The equalisation of the age of consent, the repeal of Section 28, the right for same-sex couples to adopt, the Civil Partnership Act, the Gender Recognition Act and the Equality Act all transformed lives, including my own. They sent a clear message that LGBTQIA+ people belonged in British society and deserved equal treatment under the law.
That history matters because it is easy to forget just how recent many of these rights are.
When I was at school, teachers were discouraged from talking about people like me. When I first became involved in LGBTQIA+ activism, most of the battles we were fighting were about gaining rights. Today, many of those battles feel different. Increasingly, we find ourselves defending rights that many of us assumed had already been won.
For much of my adult life, I believed that while progress might be slow, it was ultimately moving in one direction: forward. Today, it is impossible to ignore the evidence that we are moving backwards. In 2015, the UK ranked first in Europe for LGBTQIA+ equality on ILGA-Europe’s Rainbow Map, scoring 86%. A decade later, that score has fallen to 43.9% and the UK has dropped to 22nd place. Countries do not lose almost half of their equality score by accident. This is not simply a matter of other countries moving ahead. It reflects a period in which progress stalled, reforms were abandoned, rights came under challenge and LGBTQIA+ communities increasingly found themselves at the centre of political and cultural conflict.
The decline is not just a statistic. It is reflected in people’s lives. It is reflected in the failure to deliver a comprehensive ban on conversion practices. It is reflected in growing hostility towards LGBTQIA+ people. It is reflected in the withdrawal of trans healthcare and the indefinite ban on puberty blockers for trans young people outside tightly controlled research settings. It is reflected in legal and policy developments that many LGBTQIA+ organisations, human rights bodies and international observers believe have weakened protections for trans people. For the first time in my adult life, I find myself wondering not how quickly progress will come, but how much further backwards we might yet go if we fail to change course.
It is important, however, to be fair about how we got here. The UK’s decline in LGBTQIA+ rights did not begin under Labour. Most of the fall from first place in Europe to 22nd happened during more than a decade of Conservative government. Many of the recommendations repeatedly made by ILGA-Europe were ignored during those years. Progress stalled, promised reforms failed to materialise and the political climate became increasingly hostile, particularly towards trans people. Labour inherited much of that reality.
However, many LGBTQIA+ people hoped that a change of government would also bring a change of direction. So far, that has not happened. The UK’s Rainbow Map score has continued to fall. The government has failed to deliver a comprehensive ban on conversion practices. It has overseen an indefinite ban on puberty blockers. It has introduced schools guidance that echoes Section 28. It has supported or defended policy developments that represent a significant rollback of trans rights and protections.
That does not mean Labour is solely responsible for the situation we find ourselves in today. But it does mean that many LGBTQIA+ people who expected the decline to be reversed have instead watched it continue. That is why this moment feels so significant. The question is no longer whether Labour inherited a problem. The question is whether a Burnham government is prepared to solve it.
This is why a Burnham government matters. Not because Andy Burnham is some kind of political saviour, and not because any single politician can reverse years of decline overnight. Rather, it matters because this moment presents an opportunity to choose a different path.
Burnham’s record on LGBTQIA+ equality is broadly positive. Throughout much of his political career he has supported LGBTQIA+ rights and, as Mayor of Greater Manchester, often presented himself as an ally to LGBTQIA+ communities. His voting record and public statements place him firmly within the tradition of Labour politicians who have generally supported equality legislation and inclusion.
However, if I am being honest, I do not think LGBTQIA+ communities can simply assume that a Burnham government would automatically reverse the current direction of travel.
One reason for that is that Burnham’s recent position on trans rights appears more ambiguous. While he has historically been supportive of trans inclusion, his comments following the Supreme Court ruling and the subsequent EHRC Code of Practice have shown that he is increasingly willing to accommodate exclusionary policies.
The EHRC Code has been criticised by LGBTQIA+ organisations, human rights groups, legal experts and international bodies because of concerns that it could lead to the exclusion of trans people from services and public spaces. Burnham has not positioned himself amongst those calling for the code to be withdrawn and, at times, has appeared broadly supportive of its direction.
That creates an important tension.
On one hand, Burnham’s overall record suggests a politician who believes in equality and inclusion.
On the other, people are understandably asking whether that commitment extends to challenging policies that they believe are actively eroding their rights.
For me, that uncertainty is one of the most important reasons why cabinet appointments and early policy decisions will matter so much.
The question is not whether Burnham supports LGBTQIA+ equality in the abstract. The question is whether he is prepared to reverse the specific legal, healthcare and policy changes that have driven the UK’s decline in LGBTQIA+ rights over recent years.
Prime Ministers do not govern alone, and the outlook for LGBTQIA+ rights under a Burnham government will depend heavily on who is appointed to key cabinet positions and what priorities they bring with them. The Health Secretary will shape the future of trans healthcare. The Education Secretary will shape what happens in schools. The Equalities Minister will shape the government’s response to the EHRC Code of Practice and wider questions of rights and protections. The Home Secretary and Justice Secretary will determine how seriously anti-LGBTQIA+ hate is treated.
These appointments will tell us very quickly whether this government intends to reverse the current trajectory or simply soften the language around it.
Because LGBTQIA+ communities do not need better rhetoric. We need better outcomes.
The reality is that some of the figures who may feature in a Burnham cabinet have strong historic records on LGBTQIA+ equality while also being associated with policies that many LGBTQIA+ organisations believe have contributed to the current decline, particularly around trans rights. This is why personnel will matter so much. The question is not simply whether ministers support LGBTQIA+ equality in principle. The question is whether they are willing to act when equality becomes politically difficult.
For me, the biggest test of a Burnham government will be whether it is prepared to reverse the direction of travel of recent years. Will it tackle the crisis in trans healthcare? Will it review the indefinite ban on puberty blockers? Will it reconsider schools guidance that echoes Section 28? Will it halt the erosion of legal protections that has accelerated following recent legal and policy developments? Will it revisit the EHRC Code of Practice and ensure that equality law remains a tool for inclusion rather than exclusion? Will it deliver a fully inclusive ban on conversion practices? Will it act on the recommendations repeatedly made by ILGA-Europe, UN experts, human rights organisations and LGBTQIA+ communities themselves?
These are not niche issues. They are questions about whether LGBTQIA+ people can access healthcare, feel safe in schools, participate in public life and live with dignity.
One of the biggest lessons I have learned from more than twenty-five years in LGBTQIA+ activism and community work is that progress is not linear. When Section 28 was repealed, many people assumed we would never again see attempts to limit discussion of LGBTQIA+ lives in schools. When the UK topped international equality rankings, many assumed our position as a global leader was secure. When equal marriage became law, many people assumed the major battles had largely been won.
History has a habit of humbling those assumptions.
Rights can be won, but they can also be weakened. Protections can be strengthened, but they can also be eroded. The last few years have reminded us that progress is not inevitable. It requires constant defence, constant advocacy and constant solidarity. Sometimes it also requires us to recognise that things are getting worse before we can begin making them better.
My hope is not that Labour returns to some imagined golden age. It is that it reconnects with a tradition that saw equality as a project of expanding freedom and opportunity for those who had historically been excluded. The Labour governments that repealed Section 28, introduced civil partnerships, strengthened equality law and created legal recognition for trans people did not get everything right. Far from it. But they broadly understood that equality was something to be advanced, not managed; that discrimination should be challenged, not accommodated; and that government had a responsibility to expand freedom, not merely referee arguments about it.
That is the tradition I hope a Burnham government chooses to build upon.
Today, what many LGBTQIA+ people are looking for is not radicalism. It is direction. A government willing to move forward again. A government willing to stand alongside LGBTQIA+ communities rather than hold them at arm’s length. A government willing to see equality as a core value rather than a communications challenge. Most of all, a government willing to recognise that rights once won should never have to be won all over again.
Am I hopeful? Yes. But cautiously so.
One of the biggest lessons I have learned over the past twenty-five years is that no political party owns progress forever. Labour’s historic achievements on LGBTQIA+ rights should be celebrated, but they should not excuse recent failures, nor should they create an assumption that progress will automatically resume. Progress requires choices. It requires political courage. It requires leadership. And it requires a willingness to stand with marginalised communities even when doing so is difficult.
A Burnham government now has an opportunity: an opportunity to rebuild trust, an opportunity to reverse decline, an opportunity to restore Britain’s reputation as a country that values equality and human dignity, and an opportunity to return Labour to the role it once played in advancing LGBTQIA+ rights.
Whether it takes that opportunity remains to be seen.
As someone who grew up under Section 28 and lived through the extraordinary advances that followed, I know what progress looks like. The question now is whether this new government is prepared to pursue it once again.




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