Why this year’s Pride is a protest

Series: LGBT Humanists Author: Nick Baldwin, LGBT Humanists Coordinator

Every year, it goes without saying, Pride is a celebration. Of who we are, of how far we’ve come, of joy and love and community. For some of us, it’s a very personal celebration. For LGBT+ people like me who came out later in life and went through the difficult process of adjusting to who we are now as gay, bi, lesbian, or trans adults, the joy and love and community we feel at events like Pride can mean everything.

But we should remember that at its heart, Pride is not just a celebration. Pride started as a protest. And in 2025, that part matters more than ever.

Once again at Pride events around the country, you’ll see LGBT Humanists members, supporters, and volunteers marching in parades holding up signs demanding a ban on conversion therapy. That message of protest gets a huge reaction from the crowd as we pass every time. Because in a sea of corporate floats and generic messages about love, there are real people’s human rights at stake.

Time to ban conversion therapy!

Back in 2018, the Government promised to ban so-called ‘conversion therapy’. That was seven years ago. Seven years of delay, excuses, consultations, and broken promises. And still today, these abusive, discredited practices are not banned in law.

Let’s be clear about what that means. It means vulnerable LGBT+ people, especially young people and especially those from religious backgrounds, are still being subjected to efforts to change or suppress who they are. It means some of the most damaging and dehumanising forms of ‘treatment’ are still being defended under the banner of religious freedom. It means survivors are still waiting to be heard.

This isn’t just political foot-dragging. It’s a failure to act on harm that is well-documented and preventable. It’s a betrayal.

That’s why we’re back on the streets this year. Not just to celebrate, but to be seen and heard. We’re marching because we’re angry. Because we’re tired of being promised change and watching it stall. Because we still need to fight for what should already be protected.

Pride with a purpose

I’m proud to have been the Coordinator of LGBT+ Humanists for a few years now, but even before I came out as a gay man, LGBT+ Humanists were making themselves seen and heard at Pride events for decades – stretching back to the late 1970s when the group was first formed, in the shadow of the Gay News blasphemy trial, Section 28, and Mary Whitehouse’s war against same-sex love. 

Last year, I was amazed to see how deep that history went, thanks to a National Lottery Heritage Fund project that captured the stories and voices of LGBT+ Humanists campaigners past, in all their iconoclastic, fun-loving glory. 

What amazes me looking at the archives is how much we have in common with those 1970s campaigners, who like us, were out there calling for a ban on conversion therapy. Like them, we’re not just there to hold banners and hand out badges (although we’ll be doing plenty of that, too). We’re there to stand up to religiously motivated harm. To call for real action, not platitudes. And to show that humanist values like equality, compassion, and reason mean nothing if we don’t live them out in public.

On conversion therapy, our message hasn’t changed since 1979: Ban it! End religious abuse. And defend LGBT+ rights without exception.

This is an area where for decades now LGBT Humanists has worked with survivors to form solid, practical policy – which we’ve seen other countries implement safely. We’ve lobbied ministers and UN officials. And in recent years we’ve seen the campaign grow, linked up with other campaigners, written evidence, challenged ongoing delay. 

Now a year on from the last general election, we are still waiting.

Speaking up for trans rights

Last year and the year before, our group at Pride in London was bigger and louder than ever. We had placards, megaphones, and a whole lot of noise. We also had a purpose. The chants weren’t just celebratory. They were pointed.

People noticed. Some joined in. Others thanked us. And some told us they’d been through it themselves. That’s the reality. These aren’t abstract debates. They’re lived experiences.

And while parts of the LGBT+ community have made huge strides, others are being left behind. Trans people in particular are being targeted – by politicians looking for easy headlines, and by media outlets that treat their lives as a source of controversy rather than basic humanity.

In the UK in 2025, this has escalated into an unrelenting onslaught. Trans people are being vilified daily in newspapers and on the radio, with abuse amplified further by bots and bad actors online. Amid the noise, people often lose sight of what’s really at stake: the fundamental right of human beings to go about their private lives with dignity. The right to live safely, to access healthcare, and to be recognised under the law are all basic human rights. Protection and equality under the law, after all, aren’t radical demands. They are the bare minimum we expect to see in a civilised society.

Come march with us

If you’ve ever wondered whether Pride still matters, this is your answer. It does. Too many people still aren’t safe. Our rights are still up for debate. Nothing changes unless we make it.

So if you’re angry, come march with us. If you’re exhausted by the waiting, come walk beside us. If you want to show the world that humanists believe in dignity and equality for all, come protest with us.

We’ll be at Pride in London 2025. You’ll find us near the front, with the purple shirts and the megaphones and the banners calling out injustice. But more than that, you’ll find a community that refuses to give up.