Ruth Ellis: How Far Have We Come in Understanding Domestic Abuse?

On 13 July 1955, Ruth Ellis became the last woman to be executed in Britain.

Seventy-one years later, she has been granted a conditional pardon. The Government described the decision as an act of mercy recognising a “profound injustice” and acknowledged that Ellis’s responsibility was profoundly shaped by domestic abuse, trauma and circumstances that were not properly recognised at her trial.

The pardon does not overturn her conviction for the murder of David Blakely. Instead, it replaces the death sentence with life imprisonment. It does not change what happened or restore the lives damaged by it. But it does formally recognise something that the justice system of 1955 failed to understand: Ruth Ellis was also a victim of sustained domestic abuse, and her actions could not be considered fairly without examining the violence, coercion and trauma that preceded them.

Her pardon provides an opportunity to reflect on how far our understanding of domestic abuse has developed and how much further there may still be to go.

Looking beyond a single incident

For much of the twentieth century, domestic abuse was commonly understood through isolated incidents of physical violence. The questions asked were often narrow. Was someone assaulted? Was there an injury? Was there a witness?

Today, our understanding is very different. We know that domestic abuse is not only defined by an individual assault. It can involve a sustained pattern of controlling, coercive, threatening, degrading and frightening behaviour.

The Domestic Abuse Act 2021, of course, recognises that abuse may be physical or sexual, but it may also be emotional, psychological or economic. Controlling behaviour can isolate a person from support, deprive them of independence and regulate almost every aspect of their daily life. Coercive behaviour can include repeated threats, humiliation, intimidation and punishment designed to frighten the victim and restrict their freedom.

The law now recognises something survivors and their supporters understood long before the case of Ruth Ellis. Domestic abuse is about a pattern of power and control.

What happened to Ruth Ellis?

Ruth Ellis shot and killed her abusive partner, David Blakely, outside a London pub on 10 April 1955. She was convicted of murder following a short trial and executed at Holloway Prison three months later.

Evidence now highlighted by her family and those who supported the pardon describes Ellis as having experienced sustained and brutal abuse. Blakely had repeatedly assaulted her. On one occasion, he reportedly punched her in the stomach while she was pregnant, causing her to miscarry.

Yet the context and effects of that abuse were not properly explored or understood during her trial.

Her case was largely reduced to the final act: a woman had taken a gun and killed a man.

The history leading to that moment did not receive the attention it would be expected to receive today. There was little understanding of coercive control, cumulative trauma, psychological entrapment or the ways in which prolonged abuse can affect someone’s perception of danger and the choices they believe are available to them.

The Government has now accepted that, had the case been heard under modern law, Ellis might have been able to argue the partial defences of loss of control or diminished responsibility. Those defences could have allowed a jury to return a verdict of manslaughter rather than murder.

That does not mean she would be acquitted today. Nor does it suggest that experiencing domestic abuse removes responsibility for committing a serious offence. It does not. But it does mean that justice requires context.

From “What did she do?” to “What happened to her?”

One of the most important developments in trauma-informed practice has been the shift from asking only: “What is wrong with this person?” to also asking: “What happened to them?”

It is right to ask what someone did and who was harmed. But it may also be necessary to ask:

• What had been happening to this person over months or years?
• Were they living in fear?
• Were they being controlled, threatened or repeatedly assaulted?
• Had previous attempts to seek help failed?
• Did they believe they or their children were in immediate danger?
• How had trauma affected their thinking, behaviour and perception of the choices available?

These questions do not excuse criminal behaviour or disregard those who have been harmed, but they do allow the justice system to see the whole picture. Viewed within the pattern of abuse, fear and coercion surrounding them, the same actions may be understood differently.

Ruth Ellis was a woman, but these questions apply to anyone of any gender. Context can be an important part of offending behaviour.

The significance of coercive control

The concept of coercive control has transformed how we understand domestic abuse. Coercive control is not simply a series of abusive incidents. It is a pattern through which one person gradually removes another person’s independence, security and sense of self. A person may be isolated from friends and family, deprived of money, monitored, humiliated, threatened or made responsible for the perpetrator’s behaviour.

Over time, their world can become smaller. Their decisions are shaped by avoiding punishment, protecting children, managing risk and trying to predict what the abusive person might do next.

To someone outside the relationship, leaving may appear to be the obvious solution. For the person experiencing the abuse, leaving may involve homelessness, financial hardship, separation from children, escalating threats or a heightened risk of serious or fatal violence.

Understanding coercive control helps us recognise that a person may technically have choices while, in reality, every available option carries danger. This understanding was largely absent from the justice system that tried Ruth Ellis.

Have we moved far enough?

The pardon is an important recognition of historical injustice. It demonstrates that our understanding of domestic abuse has changed considerably since 1955.

Controlling or coercive behaviour became a criminal offence in England and Wales in 2015. The Domestic Abuse Act 2021 introduced a statutory definition recognising emotional, psychological and economic abuse alongside physical and sexual violence.

Police officers, lawyers, judges and other professionals now receive more information about coercive control and the effects of trauma. Specialist domestic abuse services are increasingly involved in supporting those who are navigating the civil and criminal justice systems.

But legal recognition does not guarantee consistent understanding or practice. The Centre for Women’s Justice, which welcomed the pardon, has warned that Ruth Ellis might still have been convicted of murder under the law as it currently operates.

The organisation says it is working with more than 30 women who experienced domestic abuse, killed their abuser and were convicted of murder in circumstances it considers comparable. It argues that evidence of domestic abuse and coercive control is still not always properly understood or applied by the courts, and that defences including loss of control and self-defence can remain difficult for abused women to access. That is deeply uncomfortable.

It suggests that we may now have the language to describe coercive control without always having a justice system capable of recognising its full impact.

Victims can be criminalised in other ways

The issues raised by the Ellis case are not limited to those who kill their abusers. Domestic abuse can shape many forms of offending. A person may be forced to carry drugs, steal, commit fraud, receive stolen goods, aid and abet someone else’s crimes, or allow their home or bank account to be used by an abusive partner. They may breach court orders or fail to attend appointments because they are being monitored or prevented from leaving the house.

Some people may use force while trying to defend themselves. Others may be arrested after the perpetrator makes a counter-allegation or presents themselves to the police as the victim. Behaviour that appears criminal when viewed in isolation may, when properly examined, reveal a pattern of coercion, exploitation or survival.

This does not mean every person who has experienced domestic abuse should be exempt from accountability. It means that accountability must be informed, proportionate and grounded in a proper understanding of the abuse.

Victims and survivors should not be punished because the system has failed to recognise the control being exercised over them.

Why early protection matters

At NCDV, much of our work focuses on helping those at risk to access protective civil orders. A Non-Molestation Order or other protective injunction cannot undo abuse that has already taken place. But timely legal protection may interrupt an escalating pattern, place clear restrictions on an abuser and give a survivor greater space to make decisions safely.

Cases such as Ruth Ellis’s remind us why early recognition and intervention are so important. When people are believed, offered practical options and helped to access protection, the possibilities available to them may begin to widen. But when abuse is ignored, minimised or treated as a series of disconnected arguments, those affected may become increasingly isolated and trapped. The consequences can extend across families and generations.

Ellis’s granddaughter, Laura Enston, has spoken about the lasting trauma experienced by the family and said that the shadow of the execution had fallen across two generations. Domestic abuse rarely affects only two individuals. Its impact can reach children, grandchildren and whole family networks long after the relationship itself has ended.

Progress, recognition and unfinished work

The conditional pardon cannot undo Ruth Ellis’s execution. It cannot return a mother to her children or repair the trauma carried by her family. It cannot change the failure of the justice system to understand the circumstances surrounding her actions at the time.

But acknowledgment matters, especially when institutions recognise that they failed. It matters when domestic abuse is placed within the history of a case rather than treated as an irrelevant detail. It matters when the experiences of victims and survivors are finally heard.

Ruth Ellis’s pardon shows how far we have moved from a time when domestic abuse was routinely hidden, minimised or considered a private matter.

We now have a legal definition of domestic abuse. We recognise coercive control. We understand more about trauma, entrapment and the dangers people face when trying to leave.

But progress should not be measured only by our ability to identify injustice 70 years after it occurred. It must also be measured by whether we recognise victims today, whether we respond when they first ask for help and whether we ensure the criminal justice system sees the full context of their lives.

The question is not simply whether we understand Ruth Ellis differently now. The question is whether someone experiencing similar abuse today would be heard, protected and treated justly before it was too late.