Sanchita Hosali is the CEO at BIHR.
Over the course of this series, we've heard four very different perspectives on liberty in the wake of the Supreme Court's AGNI judgment, a decision that has fundamentally reshaped the legal framework surrounding the right to liberty under Article 5 of the Human Rights Act. In broad terms, the Supreme Court concluded that the circumstances amounting to a deprivation of liberty under Article 5 should not be assessed solely by reference to the "acid test" the Court had previously established in the 2014 Cheshire West case. Rather, greater weight must be given to the person's situation as a whole, including the reasons for and context of the arrangements. Many questions remain.
Charli reminded us that discussions about liberty are never just discussions about law. They are about people's lives, relationships, choices, and what it means to be recognised as a rights holder. Annie reflected on the realities of frontline practice and the importance of not making assumptions when supporting people to make decisions about their lives.
Helen explored the challenges facing care systems, balancing autonomy, protection, accountability and the realities of delivering support in increasingly pressured environments. And Alex examined the legal implications of the AGNI judgment itself, helping us understand what has changed, what has not, and how this fits within the wider development of the right to liberty under Article 5.
We deliberately sought out differing perspectives, knowing this series was never going to arrive at a single conclusion. Each raises different concerns and points in different directions. Yet all return to a common challenge: how do we make people's human rights real in their everyday lives? That means ensuring people are heard, balancing autonomy, protection and accountability, and keeping debates about liberty connected to the people most affected by them.
There has been considerable debate about whether the Supreme Court got the law right in AGNI. Really trying to engage with it, and the contributions from Charli, Annie, Helen and Alex, I have found myself returning to four reflections.
Why Cheshire West mattered
I was at BIHR when the Supreme Court issued the Cheshire West judgment in 2014. There was something refreshingly simple about it and how it spoke to the absolute core of human rights: universality. To paraphrase what the then President, Lady Hale, wrote in the judgment, if something would be a deprivation of liberty for me, why should it become something different simply because the person concerned is disabled?
We can debate how legal safeguards should operate and when restrictions on non-absolute rights engage human rights protections. But the starting point has to be that disabled people do not get a different version of human rights. That was the power of the "gilded cage" argument. A comfortable environment is still a restriction if the person is not free in the way the rest of us would expect to be free.
Whatever people think about the practical consequences of Cheshire West, it is important not to lose sight of what made it resonate in the first place. It challenged a long history (and indeed continuation) of treating disabled people's restrictions differently because they happened in care settings, family homes, or places regarded as benevolent.
At its heart was a simple reminder that liberty matters equally. But as Annie's and Helen's contributions remind us, a powerful principle is not the same thing as an easy system. And that brings me to my second reflection.
The principle was simple. The reality was not.
One of the reasons I have appreciated the different perspectives in this series is that they remind us what happened after Cheshire West. Translating a powerful principle into practice proved far more complicated.
Over the years, I have heard directly from families who felt exhausted by processes they did not understand and often could not see the value of. Parents supporting adult children to live good lives found themselves repeatedly navigating assessments, reviews and bureaucracy around arrangements they experienced as loving, supportive and enabling.
I understand why that felt frustrating, and we have to take those experiences seriously. But the reason I have always found this debate difficult is because I have also heard the other stories. Stories reflected across this series: in Charli's emphasis on being recognised as a rights holder; in Annie's reminder that asking one more question can change how we understand a person's circumstances; and in Helen's focus on accountability, scrutiny and the responsibilities that accompany decision-making power. People's lives where restrictions had become normal. Where nobody had stopped to ask whether something was really necessary. Where safeguards created opportunities for challenge that otherwise would not have existed.
These are not competing versions of reality. They are part of the same reality.
Cheshire West expressed an important human rights principle. The way that principle played out in practice was sometimes difficult. Both things can be true at once. In many ways, understanding that tension is essential to understanding how we arrived at AGNI. As Alex's contribution reminds us, it is important to step back from immediate reactions to the judgment and look at the bigger legal and constitutional picture.
AGNI: when courts revisit rights protection
The AGNI judgment has prompted strong reactions. Some commentators have welcomed it as a correction to Cheshire West. Others have raised serious concerns about what it may mean for safeguards, scrutiny and accountability.
Reasonable people can disagree. I certainly do not think anyone should pretend this judgment is uncontroversial. But nor do I think that the fact the Supreme Court revisited Cheshire West is, in itself, a human rights problem.
Part of what made Cheshire West significant was that it developed a particularly expansive and, I would argue, positive, domestic interpretation of Article 5 that went beyond the approach taken by the European Court of Human Rights. Under the Human Rights Act, UK courts can develop domestic interpretations of Convention rights beyond the minimum standards recognised by Strasbourg.
Equally, those interpretations can later be revisited by the courts. That is part of how our legal system works. That does not mean accepting a judgment uncritically. The response to a judgment you disagree with is to challenge it through evidence, advocacy, public debate, future litigation or legislative change. But those arguments must start from an honest assessment of the legal position as it stands, not the one we might prefer.
What concerns me is when disagreement with a judgment becomes reluctance to engage with the judgment itself. The rule of law requires more of us than supporting court decisions when they produce outcomes we welcome. If we expect judgments that strengthen rights to be respected and implemented, the same principle must apply when courts reach conclusions we would not have chosen. Otherwise, our commitment is not really to legally articulated universal rights, but to particular decisions the meet your approval.
Whatever view people take of AGNI, the judgment is now part of the legal framework governing the right to liberty; and whether it is subject to further challenge and change, the here and now matters for people whose rights may be affected. And for BIHR, that moves us beyond the courtroom to how human rights are understood and applied in everyday decision-making.
The response matters as much as the judgment: what has not changed
Public authorities remain bound by the Human Rights Act, its array of 16 rights, and the powerful practical duties to meet them. The conversation does not end with Article 5. Many of the situations discussed throughout this series also engage Article 8, the right to private and family life. Decisions about care, support, living arrangements, relationships and participation all require consideration of dignity, autonomy, choice and inclusion.
That is why human rights protection cannot be reduced to a single legal threshold. Health and social care practitioners will still need to understand wishes and feelings, recognise objection, consider less restrictive options, involve families and assess the impact of decisions on people's rights. Where absolute rights like life or freedom from inhuman treatment are at risk, there are bright red lines, and a different decision must be taken. Where non-absolute rights like Article 8 are engaged, any restriction must be lawful, pursue a legitimate aim, and be proportionate. These questions mattered before Cheshire West. They mattered throughout the decade that followed. And they are just as important after AGNI.
Ultimately, the challenge remains the same: ensuring that human rights shape how public power is exercised in practice and how they are experienced by people. That is where rights are realised or denied, and it is where BIHR will continue to focus its efforts.