As the CEO of a UK-based LGBTI+ charity working globally, I often get asked why the political climate at home matters so much to what we do abroad. After all, haven’t we already achieved the major milestones here? Marriage equality. Hate crime protections. Gender recognition laws.
But that view misunderstands the nature of our interconnected world. While the focus of Kaleidoscope Trust’s work is and will remain global, the immense, often invisible power the UK still holds in shaping global discourse through both its international and domestic actions underpins our work.
The political climate in Britain may feel local. Recent polarising decisions and political debates may seem domestic. But for those of us working on the frontlines of global LGBTI+ equality, what happens here, said here, legislated here, and accepted here also reverberates in places where the consequences are immediate, visible, and dangerous. I do not say this to undermine or invalidate the battles our communities face domestically but rather to connect us through our shared struggle.
We may be in different boats but we are all navigating the same storm.
The UK still matters. This is not nostalgia. Nor is it an overstatement of our place in the world. But we cannot ignore the fact that the UK continues to export influence through our media, through our aid, through our foreign policy and, at times, through our silence.
We see this influence most clearly in moments of retreat. If we fail to speak clearly and consistently in defence of our rights, that silence is not confined to Westminster. It is echoed by lawmakers in Uganda, in Poland, in Indonesia. Our policies, our public debates, our funding decisions all send signals to allies and adversaries alike. When the UK repealed Section 28 in 2003, it wasn’t just a domestic victory. It was a message to the world: that our lives deserve recognition, safety, and dignity.
If anti-LGBTI+ rhetoric fully takes hold in British political discourse, it will legitimise discrimination far beyond our borders. We have seen, repeatedly, UK-originated talking points being lifted, sometimes word for word, by those working to roll back human rights abroad. What begins as a culture war headline in a British tabloid can become the justification for criminalisation or hate crime in another country within days.
For example, I’ve heard from activists across the Commonwealth how the UK’s Supreme Court’s recent judgement has been wilfully misinterpreted by media outlets and politicians as justification for their criminalisation and legal restrictions on the lives of LGBTI+ people. That the UK’s decision only relates to the Equality Act 2010 is irrelevant – the political narrative and language around the case is doing significant damage to the fight for LGBTI+ around the world.
International LGBTI+ solidarity has always drawn strength from moral consistency. When we stand up for our communities abroad, we have been taken seriously because our domestic record has historically backed our words with action. But that trust is fragile. If we allow our domestic climate to backslide through policy stagnation, hostile rhetoric, or the scapegoating of trans people, our international credibility will collapse. We cannot credibly advocate for human rights overseas while accepting their erosion at home.
The UK cannot afford to see itself as being past our fight for LGBTI+ rights. There is no such thing. Not while our trans siblings are under attack. Not while our international standing is used to justify crackdowns on our communities elsewhere. Every harmful headline in the British press, every anti-LGBTI+ talking point in Parliament, finds its way into WhatsApp groups and political speeches across borders.
Our partners see it. Our adversaries use it.
I understand the temptation to separate these conversations, to imagine our international work as “over there” and our UK context as something separate. But that separation is artificial. If our mission is global equality, then what happens here is not just a matter of internal concern. It is a matter of international consequence. The UK is not a finished product, but a frontline like many others.
Let me be clear, the UK has played a significant role in advancing LGBTI+ rights around the world. Our government has invested in inclusion initiatives. Our diplomatic missions have shown real leadership. And our legal reforms, from the repeal of Section 28 to the passage of equal marriage, have been powerful examples of what change can look like.
But the fact remains that we face a global backlash. The far-right is mobilised and coordinated. It is co-opting our language, distorting our values, and weaponising our identities. And in the face of this, equivocation is not neutrality, it is abandonment.
Because what we say and do here still matters. Everywhere.
The UK is not an island, not in this fight. We are anchored to a broader global movement that is fighting for its survival. If we want to be a force for good in that movement, then we must do more than weather the storm. We must choose, every day, to sail with purpose. To call out injustice. To extend hands to those capsized by hate. Because even in the roughest waters, we are not powerless.
We have a compass and we know in which direction justice lies.