Why the line between militarisation and bullying needs to be carefully considered - Natasha Mason
Military training is tough, it’s meant to test recruits physically, mentally and emotionally. With lived experience of the Royal Navy, I know firsthand how demanding military preparation can be. However, training conditions that push people beyond their comfort zones are not meant to be punishments. They are necessities in a profession where lives depend on discipline under stress.
But there’s a real difference between legitimate militarisation, and bullying. That difference matters not just conceptually, but legally, ethically and practically. At Bolt Burdon Kemp, we regularly hear from service personnel who feel that this distinction has been blurred, with harmful consequences.
Militarisation is the structured process by which civilians are prepared for service. It involves routines, command structures, demanding standards and controlled stressors that simulate real operational environments. The goal is to build resilience, teamwork and competence, not to intimidate or degrade.
Training will naturally be uncomfortable. Soldiers, sailors and air personnel must learn rapid decision-making under fatigue, discomfort and uncertainty. Indeed, many recruits meet these challenges and thrive.
Bullying is fundamentally different. It is about the misuse of power, not the purposeful development of capability. In legal terms, it may involve repeated humiliation, intimidation and personal targeting that serves no training-related objective. It crosses the boundary from instructional challenge to personal attack.
The law does not stop at the barrack gates. Military instructors and leaders owe clear duties of care to the individuals they command, grounded in health and safety law, safeguarding principles and equality obligations. Uniform does not negate those duties, and it does not excuse psychological injury or abusive conduct from accountability.
Phrases like “that’s how training works” or “you have to be broken down to be built back up” are often used to justify behaviour in the name of tradition. At times, they can mask conduct that is genuinely harmful. There is a clear legal and moral boundary. When pressure becomes relentless humiliation, and discipline slides into personal degradation, militarisation stops being protective and becomes harmful.
The urgent need to make this distinction is underscored by recent serious allegations at the Army Foundation College Harrogate, where 16 and 17-year-old recruits undergo basic training.
At Bolt Burdon Kemp, our Manifesto for Injured People includes a call to action titled ‘Protecting Those Who Protect Us’. We advocate for concrete reforms to protect service personnel, from criminalising exploitative relationships between trainees and instructors, to reforming the complaints process and ensuring independent oversight so that victims’ voices are heard and acted upon.
Our manifesto recognises that safeguarding recruits, especially the youngest and most vulnerable, isn’t about making training easy. It’s about ensuring that pressure serves a purpose. It’s about leadership that takes responsibility for culture as well as capability. And it’s about a system that treats complaints with independence and seriousness.
The Armed Forces are a cornerstone of our national security and deserve our respect. But respect cannot be blind to harm. Drawing a clear distinction between militarisation and bullying protects both the people who serve and the institutions they serve within. It shields recruits from unnecessary harm, and it safeguards the reputation and effectiveness of the military by ensuring its culture lives up to its stated values.
When bullying is allowed to hide behind the language of militarisation, those we ask to serve are failed and the forces themselves are weakened. Holding that line is necessary.
Natasha Mason is a solicitor in the military claims team at Bolt Burdon Kemp and a Royal Navy veteran.