The UK’s counter-terrorism scheme has been blighted by well-publicised failures and accusations of prejudice. Is it fit for purpose?
What is Prevent meant to do?
Developed after 9/11 and during the Iraq War, Prevent is the first of four pillars of the government’s counter-terrorism strategy for England, Scotland and Wales (together, they make up the “four Ps”: Prevent, Pursue, Protect, Prepare). It has three main objectives: tackling the ideological causes of terrorism, intervening early to stop people becoming radicalised, and enabling those who have engaged with terrorism to “disengage and rehabilitate”. Prevent is, in theory, not about getting people “into trouble”, but about helping those “susceptible to radicalisation” with early intervention.
Even so, the programme has faced repeated criticisms, from a range of perspectives: both that it stigmatises Muslims, and is too soft on them; that it chills free speech; and that, ultimately, it fails to prevent terrorism.
How has it failed to prevent terrorism?
It has failed to stop a series of high-profile terror incidents. Ahmed Hassan detonated a bomb in Parsons Green in 2017 after Prevent officials had discussed his case for more than a year, and almost closed it days before the attack. Usman Khan, responsible for the 2019 Fishmongers’ Hall attack, was monitored by Prevent officials, while Ali Harbi Ali, who murdered David Amess MP in 2021, was later found to have manipulated Prevent through “disguised compliance”. Axel Rudakubana, the Southport killer, had been referred to Prevent three times, but his case was closed each time. The suspect in the Golders Green stabbings in April was referred to Prevent in 2020, but his case was shelved that year.
At the same time, there have been notorious cases of “false positives”, such as a 10-year-old Muslim boy referred in 2015 after writing at school that he lived in a “terrorist house”; he meant “terraced house”.
How does Prevent work?
Anyone can make a Prevent referral, to police or a local authority. In 2024/25, there were 8,778 referrals, an all-time high; in the past the figure has been closer to 6,000. The median age of a referral was 16; 36% were aged 11 to 15.
Until 2011, Prevent was aimed specifically at Islamist extremism. Today, there are 15 other categories of concern, the most common being extreme right-wing ideology (20% of 2024/25 referrals), compared to 9% in the Islamist category; but also including left-wing, environmental and incel extremism (“involuntary celibates” driven by misogyny).
Once a referral is received, police evaluate whether the individual is at real risk of radicalisation. If so, their case goes before a multi-agency panel (called a Channel), chaired by the local authority and attended by social services, education and mental-health professionals, who agree on a support package. In 2024/25, only 17% were adopted as a Channel case. Taking part is voluntary – those referred, or their parents, must give their consent.
Why is it so controversial?
By definition, it involves keeping tabs on people, mostly young people, who haven’t committed crimes: gathering detailed and often personal intelligence on them, sharing it with different agencies and retaining it for years or even decades. Campaigners argue Prevent violates the principle of “innocent until proven guilty”; it operates in what is designated, in rather Orwellian terms, as a “pre-criminal space”.
Controversy often centres on the so-called Prevent duty. Since 2015, schools, hospitals, prisons and police have had a statutory duty to identify and refer those showing signs of potential radicalisation. The National Union of Teachers voted against it in 2016, arguing it created “suspicion in the classroom”. That Prevent has been largely focused on one religious minority makes the issues more acute.
Is that criticism justified?
For many years, particularly during the peak of Islamic State influence, the great majority of Prevent referrals targeted Muslims: in 2015/16, for instance, 65% related to concerns about Islamist extremism. In 2015, the former senior Met officer Dal Babu said that many Muslims were suspicious of the scheme and saw it as a tool for spying on them; that it had become a “toxic brand”. The Muslim Council of Great Britain said that year that some parents were “training their children” not to discuss their beliefs at school. However, in recent years, referrals for extreme right-wing terrorism have frequently equalled or surpassed those for Islamist extremism. This itself, however, has proved controversial.
Why is that controversial?
The 2023 independent review of Prevent, conducted by William Shawcross, concluded that it suffered from a “culture of timidity”, due to fear of upsetting Muslims, and neglected Islamist extremism relative to the threat level it posed to the UK: 80% of police counter-terrorism investigations focused on Islamist terror, but such cases accounted for only 22% of Prevent referrals.
What do Prevent’s defenders say?
In counter-terrorism, successes – attacks prevented – are inherently hard to prove. However, the Channel programme gives bespoke support to about 500 people every year, and officials claim that it has successfully helped more than 6,400 people to disengage from extremism since 2015. Prevent’s budget is limited: £38.7 million in 2025/26, barely 3% of the national £3 billion counter-terrorism spend; and down to a reported £25 million this year.
With regards to Muslim “mistrust”, last year’s Prevent review by David Anderson KC found that 80% of British Muslims supported Prevent, and that many of its practitioners are Muslim. However, Anderson found that it was facing a structural problem. It was set up to deal with people driven by ideologies. Yet more than half of those referred to Prevent in the past year were found not to have one. The Home Affairs Committee said last month that the programme was becoming “saturated” with such cases.
The changing landscape of extremism
When Prevent was set up in 2006, the threat it was built to address was relatively contained: young men drawn towards al-Qa’eda-inspired Islamism via mosques, prisons and radical preachers. While Islamist and extreme right-wing threats haven’t gone away, new forms of extremism have emerged, nurtured by social media, gaming platforms and online forums, and communicated via influencers, memes, coded messaging and AI-generated content.
These new forms of extremism are a murky blend of conspiracy theories, nihilism, identity-based narratives and a fascination with violence. Of the 2024/25 Prevent referrals, 56% (4,917) were for individuals with “no identified ideology” – the largest single category; 5% (469) were due to concerns regarding “fascination with extreme violence or mass casualty attacks”, not accompanied by an ideology. That “fascination with extreme violence” category was created in response to cases such as Axel Rudakubana’s: his lack of a clear ideology had led to Prevent dismissing his case three times. Mental health and neurodiversity also seem to be a factor: a third of Prevent referrals had mental health conditions, and 14% had been diagnosed with autism, compared to 1% of the UK population.
