For Families
Domestic abuse is one of the most common and most serious issues that arise in Family Court proceedings. It shapes everything: how risk is understood, what contact arrangements are safe, where a child should live, and the court's entire approach to a case. Yet many families going through proceedings do not fully understand how domestic abuse is actually assessed, what practitioners look for, or how the court moves from allegations to findings to welfare decisions. I want to set that out clearly, drawing on my experience of conducting these assessments in practice.
The first thing to understand is that domestic abuse, as the court defines it, extends well beyond physical violence. The Domestic Abuse Act 2021 broadened the legal definition to encompass physical or sexual abuse, violent or threatening behaviour, controlling or coercive behaviour, economic abuse, psychological abuse, and emotional abuse. This means that a pattern of behaviour designed to intimidate, isolate, or dominate another person falls squarely within the court's consideration, even if no one was ever physically struck. Courts now recognise that abuse is often a pattern of conduct rather than a series of isolated incidents. A relationship characterised by surveillance, financial restriction, emotional degradation, and the erosion of autonomy can be every bit as harmful as one involving physical violence, and the court treats it accordingly.
This broader understanding matters enormously in practice. I have assessed cases where the most damaging behaviour left no physical marks at all, yet its impact on the victim and the children was profound and pervasive. The court's willingness to look beyond the obvious and examine the dynamics of a relationship as a whole is one of the most important developments in family justice in recent years.
When domestic abuse is alleged in Family Court proceedings, the court needs to establish what actually happened before it can assess risk or make welfare decisions. If the allegations are disputed, the court may direct a fact-finding hearing, at which the judge hears evidence and determines whether each allegation is proven on the balance of probabilities. The allegations are typically set out in a Scott Schedule, a structured document that lists each specific allegation alongside the other party's response. This process brings precision to what might otherwise be a broad and unwieldy dispute.
Beyond the parties' own evidence, the court will usually have access to police disclosures, which reveal any history of callouts, arrests, cautions, or charges. MARAC (Multi-Agency Risk Assessment Conference) referrals, if they exist, provide a valuable window into how other agencies assessed the level of risk. Medical records, social work records, school records, and correspondence may all form part of the evidential picture. The court considers all of this material, alongside the oral evidence of the parties and any professional witnesses, before making its findings. It is a thorough process, and it needs to be, because everything that follows depends on an accurate factual foundation.
Once facts are found or agreed, the court needs to understand the current level of risk. This is where practitioners like me come in. Risk assessment in the context of domestic abuse is not a tick-box exercise. It requires a careful, structured analysis of what has happened, the patterns and dynamics of the abusive behaviour, whether there has been escalation over time, what protective factors exist, and what the current circumstances are. I draw on established risk assessment frameworks including the DVRIM (Domestic Violence Risk Identification Matrix), the DASH (Domestic Abuse, Stalking and Honour Based Violence) risk identification checklist, and the SafeLives risk assessment tools. These provide a structured foundation, but they are starting points for analysis rather than substitutes for professional judgement.
What I am looking for in practice is the nature and severity of the behaviour, the degree to which the perpetrator acknowledges what they have done, any evidence of genuine change or insight, the presence or absence of ongoing risk factors such as substance misuse or mental health difficulties, and the quality of the protective arrangements around the child. I also look carefully at the history. A single incident of aggression during the stress of separation is a fundamentally different proposition from a sustained campaign of coercive control spanning years. The risk assessment must capture that distinction. If you would like to understand more about how risk assessments work in general, my guide sets out the framework in detail.
Coercive control is often the most damaging form of domestic abuse and simultaneously the hardest to evidence. It does not leave bruises. It rarely generates police reports. It operates through a web of behaviours that individually might appear trivial but collectively amount to the systematic subjugation of another person. Monitoring movements, controlling access to money, dictating what someone wears or who they see, checking their phone, undermining their confidence, threatening consequences for disobedience: these are the hallmarks of coercive control, and they can be extraordinarily difficult to capture in a courtroom setting where the focus tends to fall on specific, provable incidents.
As a practitioner, I identify coercive control through a combination of detailed interviewing, records analysis, and an understanding of power dynamics within the relationship. I ask about the day-to-day reality of the relationship. Who controlled the finances? Who decided when the family socialised and with whom? What happened if the other person disagreed or asserted themselves? I look at the pattern across multiple sources of evidence, because coercive control rarely announces itself in a single document. It reveals itself in the accumulation of detail: the controlling texts, the financial records showing one party had no access to money, the GP records showing anxiety and depression, the school records noting a parent who appeared withdrawn and isolated. When all of that is drawn together, the picture becomes clear, even in the absence of any single dramatic event.
Domestic abuse is not just about the adults. The impact on children is central to how the court approaches these cases, and rightly so. Children living in a household where domestic abuse is occurring are harmed by it, whether or not they directly witness physical violence. They absorb the atmosphere of fear, tension, and unpredictability. They learn that relationships involve control and submission. They experience disrupted attachment, heightened anxiety, difficulties with emotional regulation, and a fundamentally compromised sense of safety in the one place where they should feel most secure. The research on this is unequivocal, and courts take it very seriously.
In my assessments, I pay close attention to how the child has been affected. This means looking at their emotional presentation, their behaviour at school and at home, any indicators of anxiety or trauma, and the quality of their attachments to each parent. I also consider the child's own voice where they are old enough to express their wishes and feelings, always bearing in mind that children living with domestic abuse are often acutely attuned to what they think they are supposed to say. The child's experience is not a secondary consideration in these assessments. It is the primary one.
One of the most sensitive questions that arises in domestic abuse cases is whether the non-abusive parent has the capacity to protect the child from further harm. This is particularly relevant when the abusive partner remains in the picture, whether through ongoing contact, reconciliation, or the possibility of future involvement. The CASP-R framework provides a structured approach to this assessment. It examines the parent's understanding of the abuse and its impact, their ability to prioritise the child's safety, the strength of their support network, and their capacity to maintain protective boundaries.
I want to be clear about something important. Assessing capacity to protect is not about blaming victims. It is not about suggesting that the non-abusive parent was somehow complicit in the abuse or that they should have done more. It is about understanding, honestly and compassionately, what support that parent needs and whether the child can be safe in their care. Many parents who have experienced domestic abuse demonstrate remarkable protective capacity once they are free of the abusive relationship and have access to appropriate support. The assessment should reflect that reality, while also being honest about any remaining vulnerabilities.
When the court makes findings of domestic abuse, the implications for contact can be significant. The range of outcomes is wide: from supervised contact in a contact centre, to indirect contact by letter or video call, to no contact at all in the most serious cases. The court balances the child's right to a relationship with both parents against their right to safety, and where those two considerations conflict, safety must come first. The specific conditions will depend on the nature and severity of the findings, the current level of risk, the child's own wishes and feelings, and whether adequate safeguards can realistically be put in place.
It is worth noting that the statutory presumption of parental involvement, which has been a feature of the Children Act 1989 since 2014, is in the process of being repealed. That presumption has, in my professional view, complicated cases involving domestic abuse by creating an additional hurdle for protective parents to overcome. Its repeal is a welcome development that should allow courts to focus more squarely on the child's welfare without the distorting effect of a presumption that was never intended to apply in cases of serious harm. The child-focused court model represents another positive step in how the system responds to domestic abuse, with its emphasis on early identification and specialist pathways for these cases.
Domestic abuse assessments are some of the hardest assessments I undertake. The stakes are the highest. Get it wrong in one direction and a child remains exposed to harm. Get it wrong in the other and a family is needlessly separated. The assessment must be rigorous, evidence-based, and analytically precise, but it must also be conducted with sensitivity and an awareness that the people being assessed have often been through deeply traumatic experiences. Being assessed is not easy for anyone. Being assessed about domestic abuse, about what was done to you or what you are alleged to have done, is particularly demanding. I take that responsibility seriously.
What I would want any family going through this process to understand is that the court and its practitioners are trying to get to the truth and to keep children safe. The process can feel intrusive and at times distressing, but it exists because these are the cases where getting it right matters most. If you are a parent who has experienced abuse, the assessment is an opportunity for your experience to be heard, understood, and taken seriously. If you are a parent who is alleged to have been abusive, the assessment is an opportunity to demonstrate insight, accountability, and change. In both cases, honesty is the most important thing you can bring to the process.
Last reviewed: March 2026
Through a combination of fact-finding (where disputed allegations are determined), structured risk assessment using tools such as DVRIM and DASH, professional analysis of patterns and dynamics, and assessment of the impact on the child. Practitioners consider physical violence, coercive control, emotional abuse, financial abuse, and any other behaviour falling within the Domestic Abuse Act 2021 definition.
Coercive control is a pattern of behaviour that seeks to dominate, isolate, or control another person. It can include monitoring movements, controlling finances, restricting contact with family and friends, threats, and psychological manipulation. Practitioners identify it through detailed interviews, analysis of records and evidence, and understanding the dynamics of the relationship over time.
It depends on the level and nature of the risk. The court may order supervised contact, indirect contact, or in serious cases no contact at all. The decision is based on the child's welfare, the nature of the findings, and whether adequate safeguards can be put in place. Each case is assessed individually.