Is Rishi Sunak barking up the wrong tree with the bully dog ban?

It can be argued that breed-specific legislation is unnecessary and possibly counterproductive, says Sean O’Grady

Bad dogs or bad owners? (Sid Costello)

In an usual move for a relatively modest measure, the prime minister has personally announced that the American bully XL breed of dog is to be banned. It follows a series of serious and sometimes fatal attacks on people by such dogs, and the ban will take effect at the end of the year, once experts have determined a definition and method of identifying the breed, which is derived from pit bull terriers and others.

Why is the prime minister doing this now?

Matters to do with dangerous animals would normally be the concern of the home secretary and the environment secretary, whose responsibilities include adding breeds to the banned list established by the Dangerous Dogs Act 1991. The fact that Rishi Sunak has decided to associate himself with this eye-catching initiative suggests that he’s keen to get the credit for a popular move from a grateful and concerned public; to be fair, he must also believe that the move will save lives and reduce traumatic injuries.

The timing is simply in response to a wave of attacks, media coverage, and the public mood. Sunak’s announcement came shortly after the news that another man had died from injuries sustained in a mauling by two American bully dogs.

Are there any votes in it?

Not directly, but it wouldn’t help the government’s dismal poll ratings if it simply did nothing about these disturbing attacks; for a start, it would offer Sunak’s opponents a further excuse for branding him “Inaction man”.

It does no harm to be seen to take prompt action and look as though you are in control of events, even if it’s just about nasty dogs, and even if nothing much changes in terms of the number of aggressive “status” animals that are roaming the streets with their irresponsible owners. However, Sunak won’t be adding “Reducing dog bites” to his list of five “peoples’ priorities”.

How can you ban a ‘breed’ that doesn’t exist as such?

A very good question, but it has been done. Only four sorts of dog have so far been specifically banned under the Dangerous Dogs Act 1991: the pit bull terrier, the Japanese tosa, the dogo argentino and the fila brasileiro. But the pit bull terrier, while widely recognised as such, isn’t in a breed with specific characteristics as defined by the Kennel Club. Nonetheless, the law can be applied if a suitably qualified expert testifies that a dog is indeed a pit bull terrier, and this can be backed by DNA evidence.

Similar judgments can be made about crossbreeds, where the pit bull type is prevalent in terms of the physical appearance of the dog. Official guidance has a long list of features that can be used to define a pit bull, and a similar protocol will no doubt be created for the American bully XL.

What about other breeds, crossbreeds and mongrels?

The 1991 act – alongside other legislation, including the Dogs Act 1871 and the Animal Welfare Act 2006 – covers the behaviour and control of all dogs that might present a menace to the public. Thus, Section 3 of the 1991 act created a criminal offence of allowing any dog to be “dangerously out of control in a public place or a place to where it is not allowed”.

According to the Defra guidance, a dog can be regarded as being dangerously out of control “on any occasion where it causes fear or apprehension to a person that it may injure them”. Furthermore, if that dog does injure a person, then the offence is aggravated. Legal action may be taken against the owner and/or the person in charge of the dog at the time of the incident.

So arguably, breed-specific legislation is unnecessary and possibly counterproductive, as it implies that only the banned breeds are illegal rather than any dog that is ferocious and out of control.

Why ban breeds?

Proponents say that certain types are bred for fighting, and that aggression is in their genes. Of course, there are also angry chihuahuas and nippy dachshunds, but no human being has even been torn apart by a pack of sausage dogs. The largest and most powerful of dog breeds obviously pose a lethal potential threat, because they are quite capable of killing.

Will the ban work?

It’s debatable. The Dangerous Dogs Act 1991 is routinely cited as an example of badly designed legislation, passed in haste. It came after a raft of newspaper stories about “devil dogs” – usually pit bulls and rottweilers – and ministers felt that they had no alternative but to pass a law banning at least the pit bulls. Even so, a walk around most municipal parks will demonstrate that pit-bull-type dogs are very much around, and as intimidating-looking as ever.

The Kennel Club and the RSPCA have always opposed breed-specific laws, arguing that there is no such thing as a bad breed of dog – only bad owners. They also say that there has been no reduction in attacks; in the past 20 years or so, the number of hospital admissions for the treatment of dog bites has increased by 154 per cent, despite the prohibition of certain types of dog.

Does this mean ‘innocent’ dogs will be put down?

Quite likely, which is what happened in 1991 and after. The 1991 act has been amended so that a banned dog doesn’t have to be euthanised if it can be shown that it doesn’t pose any risk to public safety, and if the owner is considered fit and proper. However, conditions must be met for the rest of the dog’s life, such as being muzzled and on a lead whenever in public.

There will be cases where tearful owners will plead for the lives of their pets, and lawyers will act to prove that the American bully XL sitting in front of the court is not in fact an American bully XL because, for example, its head is too small, its legs are too long, or it doesn’t waddle like it should.

Will they bring back the dog licence?

Unlikely. It was abolished by the chancellor, Nigel Lawson, in 1987, and hasn’t been missed. The dog licence fee of 37p had remained the same since it was introduced in 1878 (at seven shillings and sixpence), and was essentially a tax on dogs rather than anything to do with animal welfare. That said, it did introduce an element of formality to acquiring a dog, and at least in its early years, provided local authorities with funds to help pay for dog pounds and street cleaning, for example.

A legal obligation to microchip a dog might be a more useful measure in the modern world, possibly in conjunction with a requirement for third-party insurance, as with a car.