Talking about sexual harassment helps others speak out but nothing ever changes

In the not so distant past, someone I knew started working in Westminster.

Full of excitement to be in the thick of it, they were thrilled to be in London and working for something they believed in.

Then, almost immediately, a man cancelled a meeting with them and sent a picture of his penis, explaining he hoped that made up for it.

There was no flirting or build-up to this, it was simply an unjustified, unwarranted and most importantly unsolicited photograph.

Storm clouds move over the Houses of Parliament in Westminster. Photo by Dan Kitwood/Getty

Telling me about it, I was angry, protective, and to this day wonder about throwing him through a wall if i see him in parliament.

I say wonder, it’s more a fantasy, an excitable dream of actions having consequences.

Instead, he continues to work here, we both see him at events, and they continue to behave as if they are a human being, rather than a weight people carry.

I have tried to encourage them to report it, but what faith can they have in repercussions when the Prime Minister almost survived despite appointing someone accused of being a sex pest.

They came to me because of my own experiences, having seen my column about been grabbed by two different men working in politics.

But I am no authority, there are no magic words I can say, able only to offer the ways in which they could report it, when we both knew they wouldn’t.

I felt helpless, beyond helpless, but that is so much of the Westminster experience.

It is knowing who the bad people are and being able only to warn others about them, with stories either unable to be proved or not yours to share.

When a man grabbed me by the throat, I didn’t report it, nor did I when another harassed me in the canteen, so who am I to push another into action?

Our shared experience saw us bond over a constant sense of anger at those who get to carry one as normal.

But though these horrors do not define us, in the past months they have become more affecting with waves of new stories a reminder of what a cesspit this place is.

The Conservative party has seen five Pestminster cases in the past three months, including an MP accused of rape, Imran Ahmad Khan being convicted of sexual assault, Neil Parish watching porn, and David Warburton having the whip withdrawn over multiple sexual harassment allegations.

In the latter of these, the whip was only withdrawn when the revelations became public, not when they were first reported to Tory whips.

That’s not to mention the case of Patrick Grady, whose victim is now being threatened by the SNP with disciplinary action.

It makes those of us unfortunate enough to have had bad encounters angry all over again, reminded of what working in Westminster is like, and how unseriously parties deal with this.

I take no great joy in again sharing my experiences of sexual harassment, but when nobody seems bothered to actually deal with it, talking is all we have.

There are journalists and MPs working in parliament who shouldn’t be, but the constant failure to act deters those of us who know from speaking out and lets them get away with it.