A score that doesn't count for anything without implication
In the wake of a decade-long rise in sexual assaults on Britain's railways, authorities have introduced a grading system to hold train operators accountable — yet the scheme carries no financial penalties, no legal consequences, and no enforcement mechanism. It arrives alongside a new Public Sexual Harassment Act that criminalises offenders, but leaves the institutions that enable them largely untouched. For the women who have come forward, and the advocates who stand beside them, a score without consequence raises an ancient and weary question: what is accountability without power?
- Sexual assault reports on UK trains have surged 33% over a decade, with broken CCTV systems allowing offenders to vanish and survivors to be left without justice.
- More than 100 women came forward following a BBC investigation, their testimonies painting a picture of fear that now governs how they move through public space every day.
- The government's Safer Railway Scheme asks police to grade train operators on eight safety standards, requiring a 70% score for accreditation — but offers no penalties for those who fail or ignore improvement plans.
- Survivors like Lucy Asson, still in counselling after her assault, describe the scheme as hollow: a gesture that reassures no one when there is nothing at stake for operators who fall short.
- Women's safety advocates warn the scheme assumes women can choose safer trains — ignoring that for most, the railway is not optional but essential to daily life.
The UK government has launched a new scheme to grade train operators on how they handle sexual harassment — but it arrives without enforcement power. Under the Safer Railway Scheme, British Transport Police will assess rail companies against eight standards, covering victim support, staff training, crime prevention, and protection of vulnerable passengers. A score of 70% or above earns accreditation. Those who fall short will be asked to produce an improvement plan. No financial penalties exist. No legal consequences follow.
The backdrop is damning. Sexual assault reports on trains have risen by a third over the past decade. A BBC investigation revealed that failing and absent CCTV systems have allowed offenders to escape justice, and more than 100 women came forward in its wake to describe assaults that have since reshaped their lives.
Lucy Asson was 27 when she was assaulted on a train last December. The perpetrator was never found. Now in counselling, she heard the government's announcement and felt not relief but anger. A score, she said, means nothing without consequences. She sees the scheme as a small patch on a wound that keeps growing.
Women's safety advocates echo her frustration. The End Violence Against Women Coalition supports greater scrutiny of train operators but argues the approach is insufficient. Interim director Janaya Walker pointed to a fundamental flaw: the scheme assumes women can choose not to board a train with a poor safety record. Most cannot. The train is how they get to work. It is how they get home.
Safeguarding Minister Natalie Fleet acknowledged the personal weight of the issue, noting that too many women carry the fear of harassment into their daily journeys. The Rail Delivery Group said the scheme sets a clear standard. And last month, the Public Sexual Harassment Act came into force, making intentional sex-based harassment in public a criminal offence carrying up to two years in prison. But the railway scheme sits alongside this law without matching its teeth. What happens when an operator scores below 70% and ignores its improvement plan? For now, the answer is nothing.
The government has unveiled a new system to grade train operators on how well they handle sexual harassment, but it comes without teeth. Under the Safer Railway Scheme, police will assess rail companies against eight standards—how they support victims, protect vulnerable passengers, train their staff, prevent crime. A score of at least 70 percent earns accreditation. Those that fall short will be asked to draw up an improvement plan. But there are no financial penalties. There are no legal consequences. There is no enforcement mechanism at all.
The announcement arrives in the wake of a BBC investigation that exposed the scale of the problem. Sexual assault reports on trains have climbed by a third over the past decade. Sex offenders have walked free because the rail network's CCTV systems are broken, unreliable, or absent. More than 100 women have come forward since the BBC's reporting to describe what happened to them on trains—the hands, the comments, the fear that now shapes how they move through the world.
Lucy Asson was 27 when she was sexually assaulted on a train in December. She reported it to police. The perpetrator was never found. She is now in counselling, working through the aftermath. When she heard about the government's plan, she felt anger. "This is not enough," she said. "It's a score that doesn't count for anything in my eyes as there's no implication. It doesn't reassure me." She sees the scheme as a gesture, a small patch applied to a wound that keeps growing. "Yet again, they're not doing enough for women's safety."
Women's safety advocates share her skepticism. The End Violence Against Women Coalition supports the idea of greater scrutiny on train operators, but says the government's approach falls short. Janaya Walker, the coalition's interim director, noted that public shaming might push companies to improve—but women and girls cannot simply choose not to ride a train with a poor safety record. They have to get to work. They have to get home. The scheme assumes a choice that many do not have.
Safeguarding Minister Natalie Fleet acknowledged the weight of the problem. "I know what it is like to experience this kind of behaviour—the fear, the anger, and the way it changes how you move through the world," she said. "Too many women carry this every day, including on their journeys to work or home." The British Transport Police will conduct the assessments, judging each operator on victim support, staff training, crime prevention, and protection of vulnerable passengers. The Rail Delivery Group, representing the UK's train operators, said the scheme sets a clear standard that everyone has the right to travel without fear.
The timing matters. Last month, the Public Sexual Harassment Act came into force, making intentional sex-based harassment in public a criminal offence. Perpetrators now face criminal records, fines, and up to two years in prison. The new railway scheme sits alongside this law, but without the enforcement power. A British Transport Police official said the force would not tolerate sexual harassment on the network. Passengers can text 61016 to report incidents. But without penalties for operators who fail to meet standards, the question remains: what happens when a company scores below 70 percent and ignores its improvement plan? The answer, for now, is nothing.
Citas Notables
This is not enough. It's a score that doesn't count for anything in my eyes as there's no implication.— Lucy Asson, survivor of sexual assault on a train
A naming and shaming exercise is one way to incentivise companies to do more, but women and girls will not always have the luxury of skipping a train operator with a bad record.— Janaya Walker, interim director of the End Violence Against Women Coalition
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would the government create a scoring system without any way to enforce it?
Because enforcement is hard. Financial penalties mean lawsuits, legal challenges. Naming and shaming is cheaper, and it sounds like action.
But the survivors are saying it won't work. Lucy Asson called it a plaster on a gaping wound.
She's right. The scheme assumes companies will improve because they're embarrassed. But if there's no cost to ignoring a bad score, why would they spend money on CCTV or better staff training?
So what would actually work?
Teeth. Real consequences. A company that scores below 70 percent should lose contracts, face fines, or be barred from operating certain routes until they fix the problem.
That sounds expensive for the operators.
It is. That's the point. Right now, the cost of sexual harassment on trains is paid by the women who ride them—in fear, in trauma, in changing how they move through the world.
And the CCTV problem—that's separate?
It's the same problem. Operators know that without working cameras, offenders escape justice. The BBC found that out. So if you're serious about safety, you start there. You make CCTV mandatory. You inspect it. You penalize operators who let it fail.