When the process itself becomes the harm: a survivor’s perspective on Pathfinder
The Pathfinder pilot in the family courts was introduced with promising aims: to reduce adversarial processes, prioritise children’s welfare, and promote a more investigative, problem-solving approach. These principles are commendable, and there is unquestionably a need to do something to reduce the conflict and delay that the conventional court process entails. But for families affected by coercive control or abuse, the current implementation risks replicating the very harm it seeks to prevent. My intention in writing this is to bring those risks to the fore, so that as the programme is rolled out, it is implemented with knowledge of the downsides as well as upsides.
A suitability check that fails in practice
A key feature of the Pathfinder process is a suitability assessment, designed to identify whether a case is appropriate for a non-adversarial approach. Official guidance recognises that cases involving domestic abuse may not be suitable. But in practice, that safeguard can be overlooked.
Despite a history of emotional, psychological, sexual, and financial abuse in my case, I was directed into the Pathfinder process without any meaningful review of whether it was safe. I was expected to participate in a joint meeting with my ex-partner, whose behaviour had remained threatening and controlling even after I left him. Refusal didn’t feel like an option; I really feared it would be used against me in court.
The process underestimates the impact of coercive pressure. Survivors of abuse can be forced to comply with settings that mirror the dynamics they’ve tried to escape. Without trauma-informed safeguards and a consistently applied threshold for exclusion, the system risks causing further harm.
Professional gaps and power imbalances
The effectiveness of Pathfinder also depends on the skill and insight of the professionals implementing it – particularly Cafcass officers. In my case, the officer seemed unfamiliar with coercive control and was overly influenced by my ex-partner’s confident, plausible demeanour. I would go further and say that the officer not only failed to recognise coercive control, but in my opinion came across as woefully inexperienced. She was taken in by my ex and was not able to retain impartiality.
It is not unusual in abuse cases for victims to appear anxious or guarded, while perpetrators often present as calm and reasonable. When professionals aren’t equipped to recognise this, assessments and recommendations risk reinforcing those very imbalances.
Children’s wishes: a misleading metric
One of the most concerning systemic issues is how the family courts, including under Pathfinder, interpret children’s “wishes and feelings.” The intent to include children’s voices is valid – but the method is often too simplistic.
In conflicted families, children may feel intense pressure to appear loyal to both parents. Both my children expressed support for a 50/50 arrangement—largely, I believe, because they felt that anything else would have been disloyal. But after barely a year, my ex-partner chose to abandon the 50/50 setup. I had anticipated this (though not so soon), but the sudden reversal still caused distress for the children, who had already struggled to adjust.
When the arrangement changed, both children expressed relief and explained why it hadn’t worked for them. However, if asked today by a social worker, I suspect they’d still say “50/50” – not from preference, but from fear of upsetting a parent. Children’s stated views can be shaped by guilt, fear of conflict, or subtle pressure. Without experienced personnel understanding the context and having emotional insight, these views can become a dangerously misleading basis for major decisions.
Children are not property to be divided up. They are growing human beings who need stability, security, and clarity about where their home is.
When children aren’t asked at all
Even more troubling is when children’s voices are ignored. A key point of conflict in our case was schooling. My ex-partner wanted them to move because I was a governor at their school. The children, however, were deeply attached to their school, their friends, and their routine.
Yet the Pathfinder process never asked for their perspective. No effort was made to assess their emotional connection to their school or the consequences of moving. The process seemed to centre entirely on my ex-partner’s wishes. In the end, I stepped down as a governor, the children were able to stay at their school, and the 50/50 arrangement was deferred until senior school – and I agreed not to claim maintenance. This trade-off was a compromise reached outside the process, not because of it. Tellingly, the only aspect of the agreement that remains is that I do not claim maintenance.
This silence on such a significant issue reveals a deeper inconsistency: the system elevates children’s views when it supports procedural aims (e.g., time-sharing), but ignores them when their preferences challenge an adult’s agenda. In deciding to apply the Pathfinder process, the family courts failed my children.
The risk of replicating harm
Viewed together – poor suitability screening, uneven training, over-reliance on shallow enquiry into children’s views, and selective consultation – these flaws reveal a pattern; the Pathfinder process risks becoming another site of harm, rather than a path to resolution.
The court system should not confuse cooperation with consent, or neutrality with safety. Reforms must be grounded in the lived realities of abuse and trauma—not just procedural efficiency.
A better path forward
If Pathfinder is to deliver improved outcomes, it needs stronger limits and firmer protections:
- Apply suitability thresholds rigorously, especially in abuse-related cases.
- Train professionals to identify coercive control and emotional manipulation.
- Rethink how and when children’s views are gathered—and how they’re interpreted.
- Ensure emotional safety and power awareness throughout the process.
Unless we can build a system that listens carefully, questions critically, and protects consistently, even the best-intentioned reforms end up doing more harm than good.
