By FORMER SENIOR MET OFFICER
January 14, 2026 Anno Domini
More than 300 officers and staff in the Metropolitan Police have owned up to membership of the Freemasons or ‘other hierarchical associations’ in the past month, since the force has decided they are now obliged to do so.
But that is likely to be a tiny fraction of the true total. It’s a major problem, not only for the reputation of the police but for the integrity of the British justice system.
No one should have an unknown allegiance that could conflict with their public duty. As a former senior officer in the Met, I know that all forces in the UK, not just in London, are riddled with secret Freemasonry – with damaging results.
And it’s not only the police. Membership of the Masons is embedded in every branch of the judiciary, including solicitors, barristers and judges, as well as the lawmakers themselves – MPs, civic assembly members and councillors.
So I welcome Met chief Sir Mark Rowley’s insistence that all officers and staff should declare whether they are Masons as part of an anti-corruption drive.
But he is meeting tough resistance. Fewer than 5 per cent of Met employees have completed the survey asking about membership. The Masons’ governing body, the United Grand Lodge of England [UGLE], has launched legal action, claiming they are the victims of discrimination.
That’s grimly ironic. As I discovered, almost from the start of my police career, it’s the coppers who refuse to join the Brotherhood who risk discrimination.
As a young constable in the late 1970s, I attended several Lodge meetings, at the urging of colleagues. I decided against joining – chiefly because I’m a non-drinker and the social side didn’t appeal to me.
But I was under no illusions that I could easily advance my career by being ‘on the square’, as the jargon has it.
At one police station in south London, we joked that four groups ran the Met: the Freemasons, the Roman Catholic guild, the ‘Scottish mafia’ and – a very feeble fourth – the top brass. (The Scottish mafia were expats from the other side of Hadrian’s Wall, who all looked out for each other.)
On at least one occasion, my refusal to roll up my trouser leg and become a Mason cost me dear.
After months of hard study, as a sergeant in the Met, I sat my Inspectors’ exams. The first was known as ‘knowledge and reasoning’, with long, written answers. The second consisted of dozens of multiple-choice questions, constructed so that bluffers had no chance of scraping through with guesswork.
I left the exam room feeling cautiously confident. But when the results came out, I hadn’t passed. A couple of days later, via a bizarre phone call, I heard a whisper that I had, in fact, scored high marks and aced the exams… but I wasn’t getting my promotion, because several of the candidates did even better.
They’d had help. The multiple-choice paper – with all the answers – was leaked to a select few, who just so happened to be Masons.
They didn’t even bother memorising the answers – we were allowed to take rulers into the exam room, so I later heard they had scribbled notes on these.
When this emerged, several examiners were disciplined, though no one lost their jobs. But the results were allowed to stand. Disgusted, I raised a complaint with a high-ranking officer and was told, in effect, to wind my neck in and sit the exam next year if I still wanted the promotion.
I can’t prove that officer was also a Mason. But it wouldn’t be the greatest surprise. And, in my view, it should have been a matter of public record.
There is no good reason why membership of the Masons should continue to be a secret. Centuries ago, the Brotherhood risked religious persecution, but that hasn’t been the case within living memory.
Some argue that the organisation is on the wane, that it no longer exerts influence as it used to, and that it ought to be allowed to carry on quietly until it dies out.
Don’t believe a word of it. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have to take the sensible precaution of writing this article anonymously.
The reality is that, though its power may be reduced, the Brotherhood still has the means to make life quite unpleasant for those who criticise it.
The grand secretary of UGLE, Adrian Marsh, says: ‘Freemasonry has the highest moral and ethical standards.’ True or not, that isn’t the public perception.
UGLE, which dates back to 1717, calls their Lodges the ‘oldest social and charitable organisations in the world’, devoted to ‘integrity, friendship, respect and service’. Several Masons have claimed the same to me, describing Freemasonry as simply a friendly club for like-minded professionals, with the emphasis on raising money for good causes.
I’m sure there’s some truth in that: I know many Masons who have done significant charitable work. But it differs in two ways from other societies such as the Rotary Club, the Lions or, for that matter, the local tennis club.
In the first place, those organisations do not have a long-standing tradition of helping each other out of trouble, as the Masons have long been rumoured to do. And secondly, Rotarians, Lions and the rest don’t keep their membership a secret.
That’s precisely what the new Met guidelines aim to combat.
Officers are now expected to declare membership of any organisation that is ‘hierarchical, has confidential membership and requires members to support and protect each other’.
Police corruption is unacceptable, whether it’s merely turning a blind eye to a parking ticket or something far more serious. But it’s also notoriously difficult to prove. The secrecy around the Masons makes that all the harder.
During my time in the police, stories would circulate – of a Lodge meeting in Leicester that turned into a pub lock-in and then escalated into a brawl, for example. When police turned up to quell the disturbance, two innocent businessmen were arrested – but not the Masonic officers. In the end significant damages had to be paid after the businessmen’s unlawful arrest.
Banning Freemasons from the police force would be wrong; an infringement of basic liberties. It’s the secrecy that is dangerous, not the society itself.
But if police have to declare their membership, so should everyone else in the legal system, and in public life more generally. It’s deeply concerning to think that the judgment of a magistrate, for instance, might be influenced by his or her connections as a Mason. Everyone must be treated equally before the law: there is no more basic precept in British justice.
And this transparency has to go all the way to the top. Many lawyers are Masons, and around 15 per cent of MPs are lawyers.
In Cabinet, they include the PM, Sir Keir Starmer; the deputy PM, David Lammy; the Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmood; the Attorney General, Lord Hermer, and the Solicitor General Ellie Reeves. I have no idea whether any of them are Freemasons… and that’s the point. If the police have to declare it, so should they.
Britain in the 21st century has no place for secret societies. And British justice must always be seen to be done.