I will try to elucidate a little further. We know that some people have fluid capacity, such as those with dementia or depression. How do we ensure that people have safeguards for themselves and the wider community, while respecting their capacity and allowing them to be masters of their own destiny? The Bill literally says that we want to see individual autonomy, and by definition, there is always a balance to be struck. The Bill shifts more to the paternalistic side, which brings some challenges because it could create gaps in protections, as I will explain.
There are clinical situations in which a person in mental health crisis—for example, in the early stages of a manic episode or a severe personality disorder crisis—may present with superficial capacity but be at grave risk of harm. Are we confident that clinicians can assess capacity accurately in real time, in often pressured and emergency contexts? Might we inadvertently tie the hands of practitioners trying to prevent suicide or serious self-injury? If capacity becomes the gateway to protection, what support and guidance will be provided to ensure that it applies fairly, consistently and safely?
That is important when we talk about detention, because detaining people is one thing; the next thing is how we get them out. To understand that, it is worth focusing on the crucial interaction between the Bill and liberty protection safeguards. It is worth my briefly explaining to the Committee what LPS are, how they evolved and why they matter. Liberty protection safeguards are the new legal framework that replaces the old deprivation of liberty safeguards, or DoLS. DoLS were designed to protect people who lack capacity, but had become widely criticised as complex, slow and limited mainly to hospitals and care homes.
In response, the Conservative Government introduced LPS through the Mental Capacity (Amendment) Act 2019, to simplify the process and extend protections to community settings such as supported living and people’s own homes. Given that we are talking about Darzi’s shift, that is important. With that context, I turn to the key concerns before us today: how the Bill interacts with LPS, especially when individuals move from hospital detention to community care.
To illustrate why this matters, let us consider the case of Mrs A. She is a 55-year-old woman with bipolar disorder and mild dementia. She was detained under the Mental Health Act after a severe manic episode put her at risk. While in hospital, the Act governed her detention and treatment. After several months, Mrs A stabilises enough to be discharged, but because of her dementia, she lacks the capacity to consent to her care arrangements in the community. She requires supported living, with 24/7 care, which means that she will continue to be deprived of her liberty, but now in the community. Because she is no longer detained under the Mental Health Act upon discharge, the liberty protection safeguards must authorise the deprivation of liberty in the community.
This requires careful consideration. An LPS assessment and best intention decisions are required, and formal authorisation must be in place before she leaves hospital. This transition point is critical, because without clear protocols, Mrs A could find herself deprived of liberty without lawful authorisation—a breach of her human rights. Information sharing between hospital staff, community providers and local authorities may be delayed or incomplete. There may be confusion among professionals about who is responsible for co-ordinating the handover. Training gaps might lead to the inconsistent application of safeguards.
The Bill reforms detention in hospitals, but there is some opacity regarding how the handover to LPS in the community will be managed. Will the Bill ensure a seamless transition, with no gaps in safeguards? If it does not, then how will this be provided? Will there be statutory duties to mandate information sharing and co-ordinate reassessments? How will professionals across health and social care be trained to navigate both systems effectively?
The Bill rightly aims to reduce inappropriate detentions and enhance patient autonomy in hospital, but protections under LPS in the community must be equally robust to maintain dignity and rights post discharge. How will the Government guarantee parity of safeguards across settings? The Bill also seeks to address disproportionate detention rates among ethnic minorities. We must be equally vigilant that the reforms and the wider LPS regime do not perpetuate inequalities once individuals leave hospital. We therefore need to ask the questions: what monitoring is done and what safeguards will be in place?
On detention, I gently ask the Minister to clarify the Government’s plan to manage the vital interface between the Mental Health Act and LPS, even as the Bill stands, to embed clear statutory duties, guidance and accountability to protect all individuals like Mrs A throughout her care journey.
What is the Government’s view on distinguishing between those with and without capacity in the context of detention for self-harm risk? Has the Department assessed the clinical and operational implications of requiring real-time capacity judgments before detaining someone at risk to themselves? Will the Government consider a limited override provision in extreme cases where the risk is immediate, catastrophic and the capacity assessment is finely balanced? We will see more of these kinds of cases as we go forward, with more and more people living with the likes of dementia or acquired brain injuries.
If the Government do not support the amendment as drafted, might they consider refining the code of practice to provide clear guidance on how capacity, autonomy and right to self are waived? The amendment presents a thoughtful and principled intervention. It is not perfect in my eyes, but it challenges us, rightly, to consider whether our mental health laws strike the right balance between protection and personal freedom.
Amendment 53, like its partner on section 2, reflects a growing consensus that the law should better respect the autonomy of people with mental health conditions, especially when they have the capacity to make informed decisions. In introducing a necessary distinction, if someone can truly understand the consequences of refusing treatment and they pose no risk to others, should the state override their decision on their own behalf? The amendment would add a capacity-based distinction into section 3, mirroring the earlier amendment on section 2. Specifically, if a patient lacks capacity to consent to a medical treatment, they may be detained if there is risk of serious harm to themselves or others. If a person has capacity, they may be detained only if there is risk to others. In short, if a person is mentally unwell but understands the consequences of refusing treatment in this case and only poses a risk to themselves, they would not be eligible for detention under this amendment.
Imagine a woman with anorexia nervosa who is dangerously underweight, has a good understanding of her condition and the risk, and refuses in-patient treatment. Under the Bill as it stands she can be detained, but under the amendment if she is judged to have capacity and only poses a risk to herself, she could not be detained under section 3. Therefore, there are huge and far-reaching consequences to the amendment. The wider science is moving towards capacity, but it needs to answer some of these questions. Some are even being grappled with now—take the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill. This truly cuts to the heart of humanity and I am sure there are varying views not only across the Committee, but across society. Similar questions will arise when it comes to capacity.
To that end, the question posed is not simple. In some cases, such as severe anorexia or chronic suicidal tendencies, capacity may be technically present but clinically contested. The stakes could not be higher. The amendment challenges us, and therefore the Government—and rightly so—to ask: are we doing enough to balance liberty and care? Do we have the right clinical tools, legal thresholds and ethical safeguards in place?
New clause 24 is on a different but related subject. This Back-Bench amendment relates to the application for admission in respect of patients who are already on hospital grounds but have not yet been formally admitted. This is really important, because it comes down to the ability. As my hon. Friend the Member for Solihull West and Shirley said, when it comes to the mechanism this is the day-to-day reality. Someone, just because they turn up in A&E, is not under the care of A&E per se until they are admitted. That is when the clinicians will take control. If they just give their name, at what point do we have that grey area? That is the matter of contention in day-to-day working.
Currently, under section 5(1) of the Mental Health Act, applications for detention or admission can be made only in relation to patients who are already admitted to hospital—that is the key part. This leaves a grey area for people who come to hospital voluntarily, perhaps by walking into A&E and seeking help or being brought by an ambulance or the police, but have not yet been formally admitted. The amendment would explicitly allow applications for admission to be made as soon as someone attends or is brought into hospital to seek help, even before formal admission.