There is a growing perception that football policing has begun to overreach, with relatively minor instances of ‘disorder’ now routinely crossing the threshold into criminal prosecution. Where there is genuine risk – organised disorder, persistent offending or racist abuse – prosecution and football banning orders are not only justified but necessary. The issue is not with these cases, but rather the steady and largely unscrutinised expansion of prosecutions and banning orders into territory far beyond their original purpose. 

Kiya Mazur

Kiya Mazur

Behaviour that is fleeting, non-violent and often part of the charged, emotional atmosphere of live sport – momentary lapses of judgement, reactive shouting or ill-considered gestures – is being treated with a level of seriousness that risks losing all sense of proportion: individuals of good character with no previous convictions suddenly face a criminal record and permanent implications for employment, immigration status, travel and reputation. This trend uncomfortably blurs the line between maintaining public safety and over-policing the ordinary realities of live sport.

Recent government statistics underscore the trend. As of 1 June 2025, there were 2,439 football banning orders in force in England and Wales – an increase of 12% on the previous year and the highest figure since 2012/13. New orders issued during the 2024/25 season also reached levels not seen for over a decade. While some of this reflects legitimate concern about disorder, the data suggests a broadening of the net.

The debate around the application of section 2 of the Football (Offences) Act 1991, namely ‘throwing of missiles’, illustrates the extent of the problem. There have been cases where items with no realistic ability to be propelled – or at the very least of little inherent danger – have been thrown forward without any consequent disorder and treated as ‘missiles’. A supporter tossing a scarf in celebration, or a salt sachet, can now find themselves facing criminal proceedings. Such a charge on someone’s criminal record appears devoid of context and immediately evokes images of violent disorder involving explosive weapons. This is far from the common real-life examples.

What follows is predictable. Once conduct is brought within the scope of a football-related offence, the question of a football banning order arises almost by default. The reality and gravity of the alleged offending become secondary to its classification.

Football banning orders were not intended to be routine. They were conceived as a targeted response to a specific and serious problem: violence and disorder associated with the game. However, the threshold for imposing these has quietly lowered. The statutory test is clear. A banning order requires that the person has caused or contributed to disorder or violence and that the order would help to prevent violence or disorder at regulated football matches. It cannot lawfully be used as a wide net to capture all conduct connected with football or conduct that, with sufficient creativity, can be characterised as potentially disruptive.

Banning orders are not minor penalties but serious and intrusive restrictions on people’s liberties. They frequently require individuals to report to a police station and surrender their passports when regulated football matches are played abroad. They also commonly restrict movement around football stadiums and nearby public houses on match days. Breaches carry further criminal sanctions, including the possibility of imprisonment.

The recent introduction of the Unauthorised Entry to Football Matches Act 2026 has created another route into the banning order regime. The act, which criminalises tailgating and other forms of ticket-less entry, was a predictable legislative response to the scenes at Wembley during Euro 2020 (pictured). It is understandable that those events demanded attention. However, it does not automatically follow that any instance of tailgating – while undesirable – is in itself evidence of a propensity for serious disorder or violence (which is required for the imposition of a football banning order). What was previously a matter of stadium regulation has been converted into a criminal offence, conflating opportunistic and often chaotic conduct with the kind of sustained or organised disorder that prosecutions and banning orders were intended to address.

The existing framework, properly applied, already contains the necessary safeguards. The requirement to assess future risk is a meaningful one, but it should demand evidence, not assumptions. There is a line to be drawn between necessary prevention and unnecessary control. If the net is stretched too far, football policing and football banning orders cease to be targeted measures against serious disorder and violence. Instead, it becomes a mechanism for regulating behaviour which falls short of the intended purpose. A recalibration is needed to refocus these powers on the cases for which they were designed, while preserving the passion and spontaneity that are central to the game.

 

Kiya Mazur is a solicitor at Bindmans, London