Orion Publishing | May 2025 | ISBN 978-1399612449 | 352 pages | Hardcover

He Said, She Said unveils the misogyny embedded in Family Court. It arms every reader with essential knowledge to avoid the pitfalls which leave many women wanting justice.

The book journeys from the events sparking Charlotte Proudman’s decision to spotlight sexism in the law. From then on, we navigate the appeals and groundbreaking victories challenging the minimisation of rape and abuse – to the case charging Dr Proudman with misconduct for doing just that: critiquing a domestic abuse judgment.

Vindication against the Bar Standards Board in December 2024 underlines some salient themes. Progress ebbs and flows; there is an implication that individuals must suffer to achieve change; and in a case involving ‘he said, she said’, it is women who are discredited.

He Said, She Said is at its best when dismantling easy-to-believe narratives. In chapter 2, we meet Denise whose ex-partner exploits her frail mental health to suggest she is an unfit parent. Deeper excavation of the facts reveal she has been gaslit into questioning her sanity. And then there’s Mary, deemed too intelligent to withstand the abuse she alleges; too intelligent to forget the date she was raped. If the focus of these cases is dubious decision-making by judges, equal attention is paid to the judges who get it right – noted for their acuity into the complexity of abuse.

In fact, the whole purpose of the book is to open readers’ eyes to murkier truths; those eclipsed by simple, sexist explanations. Chapter 6 introduces the ‘parental alienation’ thesis, a creeping pseudoscience peddled by shady experts blaming mothers for turning children against their fathers. Parental alienation undermines allegations of abuse and reverses victim/offender roles. When Claudia is found to have alienated her children from their father and they are ordered to live with him, we discover how a mother accused of alienation – faced with the prospect of losing her children – may make increasingly bad decisions in a cruel, self-fulfilling prophecy.

Each case is as instructive as it is human. Each woman’s story is emotively relayed against a backdrop of appeals and fact-findings. If all this sounds procedural, elegant prose suffused with imagery absorbs the reader throughout. Chapters peel into the next, reflecting the churn of cases and children needing protection – and a reminder that for every stride to better reflect women’s lives, another piece of law fails to keep up.

On that point, the confines of the Hague Convention are exposed in child abduction cases. The Treaty’s strict grounds overlook women fleeing domestic abuse. And in Family Court, no definition of rape exists. How do you prove rape when no-one’s working to the same, objective standard? The book charts legislative success, too, notably, Dr Proudman’s work on Female Genital Mutilation Protection Orders, as well as amendments to the Domestic Abuse Act 2021.

Lighter moments come when the book leans into humour. The ‘Bernard Manning routine’ satirises blowback to LinkedIn-gate in 2015, and fond recollections of an adolescence in Leek are particularly enjoyable.

He Said, She Said might add to a growing body of literature exposing injustice against women – but this is a singular, skilfully crafted piece of work representing, so far, the author’s pioneering career placing women’s rights front and centre.