Make divorce even easier, top judge tells ministers
He calls for a new law to allow ‘no-fault’ break-ups
ONE of the country’s most senior judges yesterday called for a new law to make getting divorced radically simpler.
Sir James Munby said the introduction of so- called ‘ no- fault’ divorces would make it easier to have all details of a marriage breakup handled online.
His comments came a day after Jeremy Corbyn’s manifesto said Labour would introduce a ‘no-fault divorce procedure’.
Under the present law, divorce is granted on a no-fault basis to couples who have been separated for two years and agree to divorce, or to those separated for five years if only one party agrees.
But to get the fastest divorce – in about six months in the quickest cases – one of a couple must admit fault. This can be adultery, unreasonable behaviour, or desertion.
Sir James said the courts were moving towards digital divorce, with all details of marriage breakups handled online, and that the new system needed radical nofault reforms to make it simpler.
In an email to judges, lawyers and users of the family courts, he detailed the reluctance of politicians to back a new no-fault divorce law. ‘ The lamentable history of procrastination suggests it would be unwise to assume speedy progress,’ he said.
And he called for a law that would allow divorce – currently a complex process that can sometimes take years in the courts – to be simplified into a bureaucratic rubber stamp.
A couple’s money, property and responsibility for the children, Sir James said, should be a separate legal process that could be han- dled online through digital documents. The criticism of ministers from Sir James, who as President of the Family Division ranks fourth in seniority among the judiciary, marks a watershed in a campaign for a no-fault divorce law.
Sir James has called for a system in which divorces would simply be notified to registrars in the same way as births, marriages and deaths, and the only legal process involved would settle the arguments over money. Earlier this year he said the current divorce laws, which date from 1969, ‘are based on hypocrisy and lack of intellectual honesty.’
Critics say no- fault divorce would weaken the importance of the marriage contract and encourage a fresh leap in marriage break-ups at a time when divorce is in decline.
Earlier this week a major international study found that making divorce easier causes greater damage to children, because the children’s lives are thrown off course when their parents part for rea- sons that are obscure to them.
Sir James said that ‘the advance towards the digital court, heralded by the progress towards online divorce, demands that we now tackle an issue which has been around for some time’.
He added: ‘Has the time not come to bring about a complete de-linking – separation – of divorce and money, so that they are started and pursued by completely separate processes, albeit, of course, that the timeline for ancillary relief is determined by the progress of the divorce? My view, which I have been propound- ing for some time, is an unequivocal and emphatic yes!’
Sir James condemned the law in March when he refused to give a divorce on grounds of unreasonable behaviour to 66- year- old Tini Owens, because she had not been fully separated from her husband for five years and he opposed the divorce.
Any pledge of divorce reform would invite discontent among Tories unhappy at the interventionist regulation already put forward by Theresa May.
The Prime Minister is believed by some to be unenthusiastic about renewing David Cameron’s promise to support marriage, contained in the 2010 and 2015 Tory manifestos.
Laura Perrins, co- editor of the Conservative Woman website, said: ‘The vast majority of divorces are either agreed to or consented to. This reform means one spouse can divorce the other without consent and for no reason at all. It could result in great unfairness in some cases.
‘It will weaken marriage still further, when we know widespread divorce can be emotionally damaging for children.’
Annual divorce numbers peaked at 165,000 in 1993, but have fallen back to just over 111,000.
‘It could result in great unfairness’
EVEN now, seven years after his divorce, there are still nights when David Brown lies awake contemplating the unexpected turn his life has taken. The trappings of his middle- class existence have all but disappeared since his marriage ended. But it is the emotional scars that run deepest; his once raw suicidal thoughts now segued into a sense of lasting grief.
‘ Divorce destroyed me. I feel an enormous sense of failure that I’ll never fully get over,’ says David, 56. And what of his former wife, Dawn, whose affair sparked the end of their 17-year marriage? To describe her as ‘ coping’ seems something of an understatement.
‘The divorce was a relief,’ admits Dawn, 50, now remarried. ‘That’s not to say I didn’t suffer, but I handled it better.’
Increasingly, research suggests nowadays, it’s men, rather than women, who struggle to come to terms with divorce. Divorced men are seven times more likely to become depressed than their married counterparts, are more prone to suicidal thoughts and more likely to turn to alcohol as a coping mechanism.
Even the quality of their sleep is more likely to decline, whereas the opposite is the case for newly single women, who are more likely to see divorce as a liberating, if painful, new start. ‘Society is still a lot more sympathetic towards divorced women,’ says Dr Elle Boag, a social psychologist at Birmingham City University.
‘They are still typically seen as the “victim”, while men, often forced away from their children and familiar environment, typically find it harder to express emotions and admit they need help.’
But could there be something even more fundamental at the heart of this new gender divide?
Certainly, Dr Boag is not alone in concluding that there has been a seismic shift in the way men and women perceive marriage in the first place. For many
women, finding a lifelong partner simply no longer holds the appeal it once did.
‘Generally women don’t see themselves as defined by being a wife any more. They’re less likely to be financially dependent on a husband and marriage is no longer the be-all and end-all,’ says Dr Boag.
And just as the stigma of spinsterhood has disappeared, so too has the shame of starting again in middle-age.
One study estimates women now initiate divorce in 70 per cent of cases, with 75 per cent of women choosing to be alone rather than unhappy in a relationship, compared with 58 per cent of men.
Men, meanwhile, still see themselves as the ‘ family provider’, so when this framework flounders, they often fall apart.
‘Divorce can be a lot more challenging for men, particularly if there are children involved,’ says divorce coach Sara Davison. ‘ They’re often the ones leaving the family home.’
This resonates with David, who met Dawn at a party in 1988. They married in 1993, David’s desire to wed stemming in part from his parents, who were together for nearly 40 years before they died. ‘Unlike Dawn’s parents — who divorced when she was a child — they stuck together through thick and thin, and I wanted the same sort of partnership,’ he says.
Two successful careers — David was a local government adviser, Dawn an underwriter for an insurance company — allowed the couple to buy their three- bedroom semidetached home in the village of Gosfield, Essex, replete with ‘ huge garden’ and allotment.
Becoming parents — their sons are now aged 18 and 14 — appeared to strengthen their union and David, at any rate, was blissfully happy: ‘I felt like the happiest man in the world.’
Dawn, it seems, felt differently. ‘David put me down a lot — when we first met he said I had a wonky nose and a speech impediment — and my confidence was knocked,’ she says.
‘He isn’t horrible, but he lived in a fantasy world that was very draining. I told him if things didn’t change we’d split up. But I knew they wouldn’t.’
David denies Dawn told him she was unhappy, and says he had no idea his world was about to come crashing down until one evening in January 2010.
‘At a party Dawn was engrossed in conversation with a mutual friend, a police officer,’ he recalls. ‘At midnight I told her I was tired and going home.’
At 3am David awoke to an empty bed, and discovered Dawn asleep on the sofa downstairs. ‘ Her phone was vibrating on the window ledge,’ he says. Bemused as to who would be contacting his wife so late, he read the message she’d just received.
‘It was from the man she’d been talking to at the party,’ says David, who then discovered 20 other texts between the two dating back two months and suggesting a romance.
‘Of course, after 22 years together, the chemistry wasn’t what it once was. But we had a good relationship and I had no idea she was capable of cheating,’ he says. ‘I felt sick, as if I’d been punched in the stomach.’
The next morning, Dawn admitted the affair, which she says served as a catalyst to end a marriage that was already doomed. ‘David wanted us to stay together but we would have split up anyway,’ she says.
‘I regret the upset it caused and it wasn’t planned, but I needed a reason to leave.’
David, reeling with shock, stayed with a friend for the weekend while Dawn packed her belongings.
‘When she texted to tell me she was done and I could come back I sat on the floor and cried,’ he says. ‘I’d given her 22 years of my life, and for what?’ Dawn moved into a rented home nearby and the couple agreed shared custody of their sons. Dawn’s affair soon ended: ‘ It was never the intention it would go anywhere,’ she says, while David says he would cross the road to avoid bumping into the man she cheated on him with.
‘I felt ashamed, as if people were whispering about me. I stopped socialising and bottled up my anger and grief.’
Consumed by paranoia, he couldn’t eat or sleep. ‘I lost 3 st and regularly woke at 3am wondering why everything had gone wrong. I grew so exhausted I nearly drove my car off the motorway.’
He was surrounded by memories of the wife — and life — he’d loved, from the smell of her perfume, to the letters in her name that still came to her house: ‘I missed her terribly. My GP prescribed me antidepressants, and at work I struggled to focus and sat at home crying instead.’
Six months after his separation he was made redundant, and shortly after that, struggling to meet his mortgage repayments, and asked by Dawn to split the proceeds from the sale of their marital home, he rented a two-bedroom bungalow nearby.
‘I had no job and was paying £150 a week in child maintenance,’ he says.
‘I stopped eating for half of the week so I could afford to feed the boys properly when they stayed with me.
‘I couldn’t pay the TV licence and had to sell my car. I considered suicide, but knew I couldn’t do that to my sons.’
His agony was compounded by reports from the boys that their mum was enjoying raucous nights out with girlfriends. ‘ Divorce is easier for women as they talk about their emotions more. When my male friends tried to persuade me to confide in them I’d change the subject, embarrassed,’ says David, who believes finding love again is more difficult for divorced men. ‘I felt unattractive and didn’t understand why any woman would want to be with me.’ It wasn’t until 2015 that David, now working as a music teacher, finally found the courage to try internet dating and met his current girlfriend online. ‘I love her but have to stop myself talking about my marriage. Dawn will always be a part of my life and I will always regret our divorce.’ David’s observation that Dawn found a ready prop in female friends was telling. One survey found that men rely on their wives for emotional support much more than the other way round.
It showed how 71 per cent of men would turn to their partner for support if depressed, compared with just 39 per cent of women.
Daley Gibbon, 36, a personal trainer from Telford, Shropshire, describes his wedding to Charlotte in 2011 as the ‘happiest day of my life’. But their marriage crumbled when they decided to start a family.
‘ I wanted the responsibility of bringing new life into the world, and Charlotte was broody too,’ he says.
‘We cried as the pregnancy tests came back negative. Perhaps it was naive, but we expected it to happen straight away.’
As months passed and both became increasingly miserable, Daley responded by working ever longer hours while Charlotte, he claims, sought solace elsewhere.
‘She kept talking about a male friend of hers and when I saw them together she blushed and giggled as he plied her with attention,’ explains Daley. ‘She insisted there was nothing going on, but my trust in my wife and the chemistry went.’ Perhaps
unsurprisingly, Charlotte’s account of the demise of their marriage differs. She denies cheating on Daley and claims he was the unfaithful one — something Daley says is untrue.
Whatever the truth, the couple divorced in August 2013, and it’s clear Daley found it more difficult to move on than Charlotte.
Two years ago, Charlotte remarried and now has a baby. ‘I moved on fast,’ she says. ‘I now have a baby and a husband who treats me with the respect he should.’
Daley, meanwhile, spiralled into depression. ‘I felt devastated I wasn’t the father of Charlotte’s baby. My confidence was destroyed. I felt betrayed.
‘I had invested all my emotions in my marriage. I burst into tears whenever I tried to explain how I felt to friends, so I stopped socialising — I was worried alcohol would make me lose control — and put barriers up around me.’ PRESCRIBED antidepressants by his GP, he is still suffering from depression and awaiting counselling sessions on the NHS: ‘I am terrified of getting hurt and will never marry again.’
Tristan Stanford, who is still seeing a therapist four years after his divorce settlement, feels similarly betrayed. ‘I worked 40 years for a comfortable retirement and my divorce has taken that away from me,’ says the 64yearold.
He met his exwife in the Nineties at a work conference. both highearners, they bought an idyllic, threestorey manor house, where they planned to spend their retirement. After they married, they started investing in properties, which was to prove their undoing. Most of the ten properties they bought fell into negative equity in the subsequent property crash. The ensuing stress placed the couple under intolerable pressure and in 2008 they split up.
‘Tessa blamed me for everything, even though we’d made decisions jointly,’ says Tristan.
‘One Saturday night she said she was going out and expected me to be gone by the time she got back. I was hurt and angry, but I left. I knew we couldn’t live together like that.
‘For six months I lived with my parents — embarrassing for a 50something man.’
However, Tessa, 65, suggests it was Tristan who wanted to leave: ‘I was absolutely devastated, I really loved him. For two years, I would have given anything to get him back.’
In 2011, they realised they weren’t going to be able to resolve their differences, and agreed to divorce. Despite initially agreeing on an amicable settlement, there followed a bitter, protracted legal battle over their finances, which culminated in a court hearing at which a judge granted Tessa the marital home, while also instructing Tristan to pay Tessa £13,000 towards her legal costs as a penalty for what he described as his ‘lack of cooperation’ in the legal process.
Tristan, who has since spent £ 30,000 trying to appeal the decision, feels aggrieved: ‘I felt betrayed by Tessa and the legal system. I was never told what the judge’s reasoning was and don’t feel I was uncooperative at all. I was open and honest. Why should Tessa get the house? It wasn’t even as if we had children. I feel there is a bias towards women in divorce cases, and the court discriminates against those who cannot afford lawyers.’
Of course, Tessa feels differently. All the same, she appears to have dealt with the upheaval better. ‘I was absolutely shattered but I dug in and carried on,’ she says. ‘Tristan had a nervous breakdown and lost the plot.’
Tristan — now renting a onebedroom flat and reliant on a mouthguard to stop him grinding his teeth through stress at night — admits the ordeal left him needing professional help: ‘I didn’t know how to explain the situation to anyone.
‘I couldn’t focus and would lie awake in the night shaking with anger. I don’t feel I can have a relationship again. I don’t know why Tessa would turn on someone she loved.’
His exwife, meanwhile, is adamant Tristan is not the only casualty in their divorce. ‘ He might be suffering, but I’m suffering as well,’ she says.
Yet she seems to feel a sense of closure and relief which Tristan — like all too many divorced men — has yet to acquire.
I gave my wife 22 years of my life and for what? It’s been so painful but I’m too embarrassed to talk about it with male friends