If Being Naked Isn’t Illegal, When Does It Become “Disorderly”?

A court judgment handed down this week has left me with a question that I think the naturist community needs to discuss seriously.

Not angrily. Not defensively.

Seriously.

On 23 September, the High Court dismissed the appeal of naturist Neil Cox following his conviction under section 5 of the Public Order Act 1986. The case arose after Cox walked naked along the Middlewood Way near Macclesfield at around 6.30am in August 2023.

This wasn’t a case involving sexual exposure as defined by section 66 of the Sexual Offences Act. That distinction matters. Current College of Policing guidance makes clear that a naturist simply going about lawful business while naked does not automatically commit a sexual offence. Exposure requires an intention that somebody sees the genitals and is caused alarm or distress.

Yet Cox’s conviction for disorderly behaviour was upheld.

And that leaves an important question for every naturist:

If peaceful public nudity is not inherently disorderly, how should an individual know when the circumstances have transformed otherwise lawful nudity into a criminal public-order offence?

The law isn’t quite as simple as “nudity is legal”

I’ve heard that phrase countless times.

I’ve probably used it myself.

But perhaps this judgment should make all of us more careful about what we mean by it.

Section 5 of the Public Order Act covers threatening or abusive behaviour, or disorderly behaviour, within the hearing or sight of somebody likely to be caused harassment, alarm or distress. It also provides a defence where the accused can show that their conduct was reasonable.

The College of Policing guidance is equally interesting. It recognises the freedom-of-expression considerations surrounding naturism while also making clear that circumstances and behaviour matter.

So context matters.

And perhaps we need to acknowledge that more openly.

Rights come with judgement

I don’t want naturists frightened into believing that simply having a naked body makes them dangerous, indecent or criminal.

It doesn’t.

But neither do I want our community walking around clutching the phrase “nudity isn’t illegal” as though those three words make every decision automatically sensible.

Society changes.

Public attitudes change.

And our awareness of how other people experience shared spaces changes too.

That doesn’t mean abandoning naturism.

It means exercising it with confidence, dignity and judgement.

Where am I?

Who else is around?

Am I behaving respectfully?

Could somebody reasonably misunderstand what is happening?

Is this still the right place and moment?

And, perhaps most importantly, am I protecting myself as well as respecting everybody else?

That last question matters enormously to me.

Our dignity and personal safety matter too.

We also need an uncomfortable conversation within naturism

For decades, naturists have had to explain that nudity and sexuality are not the same thing.

Then we sometimes make our own argument considerably harder by allowing spaces described as naturist to become blurred with exhibitionism, voyeurism or sexually motivated behaviour.

People are entitled to consensual adult sexual lives. I’m not interested in judging them for that.

Someone can be a swinger and also be a naturist. Their private relationships tell us nothing about how they will behave within a naturist community.

The boundary must therefore be behaviour.

Voyeurism, sexual exhibitionism, unwanted sexual conduct, covert photography, harassment or deliberately using a naturist environment for sexual gratification involving people who have not consented should have no place in a genuine naturist community.

Being inclusive does not mean having no boundaries.

In fact, sometimes the kindest thing a community can do is make its boundaries exceptionally clear.

Perhaps we need to police ourselves better

And by “police”, I don’t mean appointing ourselves judge and jury over people’s private lives.

I mean something much more practical.

Naturist organisations, clubs, groups, venues and online communities should establish clear behavioural standards, enforce them consistently and respond properly when somebody crosses the line.

No favourites.

No looking the other way because somebody is a long-standing member.

And no financial calculation that somebody’s membership fee, event spending or commercial value somehow makes unacceptable conduct less unacceptable.

Standards have very little value if they disappear whenever enforcing them becomes inconvenient.

At Naturism Wales, I want people to understand what our philosophy represents before they ever attend an event.

Acceptance. Kindness. Respect. Community.

Those aren’t decorative words.

They create expectations about how we treat one another.

Public confidence has to be earned

This is perhaps the part that will cause disagreement.

I don’t believe naturists can simply demand that wider society understands us.

We have a role in creating that understanding.

Every positive encounter helps.

Every respectful conversation helps.

Every professionally organised event helps.

Every safeguarding measure helps.

Every time a naturist demonstrates ordinary, considerate behaviour, another stereotype becomes slightly harder to sustain.

And unfortunately, the reverse is true too.

If somebody uses naturism as camouflage for behaviour that is actually sexual, predatory or deliberately provocative, the consequences don’t stop with that individual.

The public remembers the label.

That isn’t always fair.

But pretending it doesn’t happen won’t improve anything.

Perhaps this judgment should be a catalyst

I don’t think the lesson from Cox v DPP should be “naturists must cover up”.

Nor do I think it should be “ignore everybody else because nudity is legal”.

Both positions are far too simplistic.

Instead, perhaps this is an opportunity for modern naturism to become clearer about what we stand for.

We should understand our legal position.

We should behave thoughtfully in shared public spaces.

We should protect our own safety and dignity.

We should challenge inappropriate behaviour within our own communities rather than expecting outsiders to distinguish it from naturism for us.

And we should create organisations in which people know that standards genuinely mean something.

The College of Policing’s Public Nudity Advice and Decision Aid is useful reading for anyone trying to understand the distinction between naturism, sexual offending and public-order law. The Crown Prosecution Service also publishes guidance on public-order offences, while the official High Court judgment in Cox v DPP provides the full legal reasoning behind this week’s decision.

The law will continue to develop.

Society will continue to change.

Naturism will change with it.

But the strongest future for naturism won’t come from lowering our standards to accommodate everybody who wants to use the label.

It will come from being exceptionally clear about the difference between a naked body and inappropriate behaviour — and having the confidence to defend the former while challenging the latter.

Because if we want wider society to trust what naturism represents, we have to be willing to protect its integrity ourselves.

So where should modern naturism draw that line — and what standards should every organisation using the naturist name be prepared to uphold?