On the 18th November 2025, infamous social media personality Ryan Williams (@koreanscot) was detained at Heathrow airport upon his return to the UK. Williams gained notoriety for appearing on Australian television with bacon on his shoulders in an apparent protest against Islam. Upon his return to the UK, Williams was detained by counter-terrorism police and faced terrorism charges for his actions prior to returning. He has subsequently been banned from flying on Virgin Airlines, along with several of the journalists covering his story.
Upon his release from holding in Heathrow, Williams was greeted by a group of supporters, those who resonate with his anti-Islam message, and has been featured online by the likes of Tommy Robinson (notorious ‘far-right’ activist) and Infowars. Williams’ future is now in jeopardy thanks to the seriousness of a terrorism charge, though it begs the question of where the line between hate-speech and free-speech should be drawn?
There has been a rise in the number of people publicly arrested for breaking the so-called free-speech laws in the UK. Father Ted co-creator Graham Linehan was arrested (again, at Heathrow airport) in September 2025 on suspicion of ‘inciting racial hatred’ on X. He was released on bail, but his incarceration gained widespread notoriety with Health Secretary Wes Streeting speaking about the situation in an interview, and Elon Musk calling the UK being a police state off the back of a post on the matter by Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling.
In 2024, the Met Police arrested 1640 people for communications related reasons such as social media posts. Reporting in the Daily Mail lays out the propensity of UK police forces to make arrests in their constabulary, showing Cumbria to have the highest proportional arrest rate in the UK of 42.5/100,000 being made under a communications act. This comes off the back of reporting that in 2023 nearly 90% of all crime in the UK had gone unsolved, but there were close to 14,000 arrests for communications related offences such as social media posts.
isn’t about diminishing the importance of any particular conflict. Every human life has equal value, and all victims of violence deserve recognition. That’s precisely the point: media outlets claim to operate on universal humanitarian principles, yet their coverage patterns reveal stark inconsistencies that demand explanation.
Ryan Williams during his incendiary appearance on Sky Australia
Steps have been taken to dilute the policing of social media however. Following the arrest and subsequent dropping of charges against Linehan, Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Mark Rowley indicated that his force would no longer be pursuing the investigation of Non-Crime Hate Incidents. NCHI’s are a form of censure introduced at the turn of the millennium, where the police are able to investigate an individual or situation despite, by its very definition, a crime has not been committed.
The use of NCHI’s has been a controversial practice, blending the line between free speech and criminal action. A Non-Crime Hate Incident is defined as “any non-crime incident which is perceived by the victim or any other person to be motivated by hostility or prejudice”. This broad definition encompasses what many would classify as free speech, and the fact that the NCHI, once issued, is linked to a person and is visible during a DBS check potentially harming someone’s employment prospects.
This raises an issue of what counts as a hate incident and where is the line drawn? With the continuous shift in the Overton Window, what once was considered improper or hostile may now be a regular feature of everyday life for some. Coupling this with the fact that accusations of NCHIs being anonymous means that people can be placed on a list with dire consequences, without their knowledge, and only discover this fact far in the future from when they were accused.
So where does the line between hate speech and free speech get drawn? What classifies something as worthy of criminal prosecution compared to what should only be classed as a Non-Crime Hate Incident?
Lucy Connolly was sentenced to 31 months in prison in 2024 for posting on X that people should set fire to asylum hotels following the murder of three children and injury of 10 more. The incident sparked a series of riots and protests across the UK, fueled by misinformation regarding the perpetrator being an asylum seeker. While she was charged with and pleaded guilty to distributing material with the intention of stirring up racial hatred, this author and many of the audience will likely have seen comments of a similar or more egregious nature posted online that have not received any legal censure. So why is one specific incident subject to the full force of the law, while others are not investigated at all?
It is a well regarded fact that the Overton Window is moving from its historic anchor, and the views of the UK population follow a bell-curve to both ends of the political spectrum, and to what is considered offensive versus inoffensive. This makes it very difficult to set a line in the sand demarking what should be classed as hate, as one person may consider it little more than a poor attempt at a joke compared to another’s horror and fear of such a statement.
The question now stands, is there a line between free-speech and hate-speech? Some readers may have posted similar comments to the accused discussed above, are they worthy of criminal prosecution? Regardless of if you believe they are, it might be worth ordering a new DBS check to make sure you are not caught off guard by anonymous NCHI accusations in the future.
In a time when meanings shift and the space between offence and expression grows more delicate, it is worth reflecting on how much we rely on institutions, headlines, and social feeds to shape our understanding of the world. That reliance deserves a more thoughtful, critical eye. A resilient public sphere depends on citizens who take the time to weigh information thoughtfully, looking beyond first impressions and engaging with differing viewpoints so that understanding, not noise, shapes our collective freedom. For those who want to navigate this landscape with greater confidence – to read more wisely, question more carefully, and understand the forces shaping our news – the Media Values Foundation offers a valuable place to begin.
