When Keir Starmer and Mette Frederiksen, the Danish prime minister, argue that asylum protections must be rewritten for a new “era”, they are not simply adjusting policy. They are reshaping the moral ground our societies stand on.

Their message is clear: hardening rules so that fewer people receive protection is the way to restore confidence in their leadership. They present this as measured and responsible, even progressive. But what they propose is not a new centre ground; it is a retreat into a politics that regards some lives as less worthy than others.

And there is a dreadful irony in seeing such a message conveyed just as the UK justice secretary, David Lammy, and Richard Hermer, the attorney general, travel to Strasbourg on International Human Rights Day – an occasion created to commemorate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the recognition, set down by the postwar generation, that dignity must not depend on borders, status or political fashion.

Human rights were never designed only for safe, comfortable times. They were written precisely for moments like this: when pressure mounts, when scapegoating becomes tempting, when compassion is portrayed as weakness. These protections exist to prevent us from repeating history’s worst mistakes. The whole point of human rights is that they are neither negotiable nor temporary.

Yet according to reports, UK ministers are seeking to reinterpret or restrict protections enshrined in the European convention on human rights (ECHR) – including the absolute ban on torture and inhuman or degrading treatment under article 3, and article 8, which protects the right to a private life and a family life. These proposals would strip fundamental protections from people fleeing war, persecution or serious harm. Article 3 contains no exceptions. Once you accept that some suffering is acceptable for some people, the principle collapses for everyone.

What is even more concerning is the political calculation behind this shift. There appears to be a belief inside government, shared with its predecessors, that if they only appear tougher, if they tweak legal guidance or pick fights with the ECHR, anger over asylum seekers will subside. Advisers who have spent years managing headlines rather than solving problems now tell leaders: this is how you defuse the issue.

We have seen exactly where this approach leads. It is the Brexit playbook: concede the premise of those demanding dismantlement, accept their framing, and hope your softer edge keeps you safe. It did not work then and it will not work now. Because once you agree that rights are the real obstacle, you have already handed victory to those who want rid of them altogether.

Starmer says he wants the UK to remain in the convention. Yet by echoing the diagnosis of Nigel Farage and others, that human rights protections prevent governments taking back “control”, he is already on their path. The destination becomes harder to avoid once you have set out in their direction.

We are not talking about abstract principles. We are talking about children separated from parents. Trafficking survivors sent back to abusers. Torture survivors returned to torture. Real human beings whose futures depend on whether our leaders uphold protections or erode them.

If ministers were genuinely interested in fixing the system, they would stop pretending that cruelty is capability. The UK’s costly asylum backlog is not caused by rights. It is the product of years of deliberate mismanagement: banning people from working, trapping them in limbo and relying on expensive, unsuitable accommodation that helps no one.

There are solutions that actually work. The UK could provide safe routes so that fewer people are forced into dangerous journeys. It could restore swifter, fairer asylum decision-making, clearing the backlog and allowing people to rebuild their lives, while ensuring the return of people without good claims is carried out with dignity. It could support communities instead of leaving them under-resourced and resentful. It could work internationally to address the conflicts and instability that drive people from their homes.

Starmer and Frederiksen say they want to protect the fabric of our societies. But that fabric is not torn by people seeking sanctuary. It frays when leaders imply that some people’s suffering counts for less. It weakens when governments teach the public that fellow human beings should be treated harshly to make a point.

We cannot build a society grounded in fairness by designing a system that is unfair. We cannot champion compassion by treating those who most need it as burdens. We cannot claim to uphold the rule of law by bending it around the people it was created to protect.

And the public know this instinctively. Recent polling conducted for Amnesty shows overwhelming support for the equal and permanent application of human rights protections. They do not want the UK to abandon its commitments. They do not trust politicians of the day to decide which groups qualify for their rights.

Human rights show the floor beneath which we must never sink, the line that should hold firm when pressure builds. Weakening that line, especially today, would not be pragmatism. It would be moral retreat.

We will not be judged by how loudly we proclaim our values in the abstract, but by whether we still uphold them when they are tested.