Daughter of MP murdered five years ago tells BBC politicians still at risk

There is a particular weight to a question asked by a daughter who lost her father to political violence. When Katie Amess asks whether anything has changed since Sir David's murder, she is not engaging in abstract policy debate—she is measuring the gap between promises made in the aftermath of tragedy and the reality on the ground. Her words, reported by the BBC (https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cq5yn0my1656o), force a reckoning with a question that often gets buried under procedural detail: are our representatives actually safer now than they were five years ago? The answer, it seems, is complicated. On one side, there have been tangible changes. Security budgets for MPs have increased, police presence at constituency surgeries has been reviewed, and the threat landscape is taken more seriously by parliamentary authorities. The attack on Sir David, following the murder of Jo Cox in 2016, created a bipartisan consensus that something had to be done. Politicians from all parties stood together in solidarity, and mechanisms for threat assessment were ostensibly strengthened. Yet Katie's skepticism reflects a deeper concern that structural fixes have not addressed the root causes of the danger. The toxicity of political discourse, the amplification of abuse through social media, and the erosion of civil debate have created an environment where MPs increasingly report feeling vulnerable simply for doing their jobs. Security measures can protect a person's physical safety, but they cannot fully shield them from a climate of hostility that has become normalized. Moreover, there is a legitimate countervailing argument that democracy depends on accessibility—that MPs must remain reachable, visible, and accountable to their constituents, even if that carries inherent risk. This is the uncomfortable paradox at the heart of Katie Amess's question. A politician who is surrounded by bodyguards and bulletproof glass is safe, but is that still a public servant? The challenge for policymakers is to find a middle path—one that protects individuals without turning representation into a fortress. Five years on, the fact that this balance remains unresolved is not a failure of any single government, but it is a collective failure to honor the memory of those who died in service. Katie's voice, borne of personal grief, reminds us that the debate is not academic. It is a matter of life and death.