“The Wounds Don’t Ever Heal”: 30 Years On, Britain Still Struggles With the Legacy of James Bulger’s Murder
Thirty years after the murder of two-year-old James Bulger — one of the most haunting crimes in modern British history — the pain and outrage it unleashed have never truly faded. In Bootle, Merseyside, where the toddler was abducted from a shopping centre in February 1993, the community remains scarred. And for James’s mother, Denise Fergus, the sense of injustice still cuts deep.
In new chapters added to her memoir I Let Him Go, published to mark the 30th anniversary, Fergus reflects on three decades of grief and disbelief. “Thirty years does seem like yesterday,” she writes. “The wounds don’t ever heal when you have buried a child, but they certainly can never do so when one of the murderers responsible persists in reoffending and then continues to bid for freedom.”
Her words refer to Jon Venables, one of the two 10-year-old boys convicted of abducting and murdering James. Along with Robert Thompson, Venables was sentenced in 1993 after a trial that gripped — and horrified — Britain. The case raised profound questions about childhood innocence, evil, and how a modern justice system should deal with children who commit acts of extraordinary brutality.
An “Act of Unparalleled Evil”
At the time, the trial judge described the killing as “an act of unparalleled evil and barbarity.” Both boys were ordered to be detained for a minimum of eight years in secure children’s homes — a sentence reflecting their age but provoking widespread fury.
Public outrage intensified after the tabloid press launched ferocious campaigns calling for harsher punishment. A petition organised by The Sun newspaper, demanding that the pair serve life sentences, gathered 270,000 signatures. Under mounting pressure, then home secretary Michael Howard increased their minimum tariff from eight to fifteen years.
However, the court of appeal later overturned that decision, ruling that Howard had been unduly influenced by the tabloid outcry rather than legal principle. It was a defining moment in the ongoing debate about whether justice should be shaped by public emotion or judicial independence.
A Nation in Shock
In the days and weeks after the murder, Britain struggled to comprehend how such an atrocity could have been committed — and by children so young. The nation’s moral compass seemed to spin. Then–prime minister John Major famously declared that society should “condemn a little more, understand a little less” when it came to youth offending.
The comment reflected a hardening political mood. Howard, who later succeeded Major as home secretary, adopted a similar stance. “We must take the thugs off the streets,” he said in 1994 — words that came to define a generation of “tough on crime” policies.
Looking back now, Howard says he has “no regrets” about his handling of the case. Speaking to The Guardian, he said people at the time were “absolutely horrified that such an unspeakable crime could have taken place in our country and that the perpetrators were so young.” It was, he said, “beyond what anybody thought could happen in late 20th century Britain.”
The Role of the Media
Few criminal cases have been so inflamed by the press. Tabloid headlines branded Venables and Thompson “freaks of nature” and “evil monsters.” One notorious front page snarled: “How Do You Feel Now, You Little Bastards?”
For many, those headlines captured the collective horror of the nation. But critics argued that the ferocity of the coverage crossed into vengeance, creating an atmosphere that blurred the line between justice and retribution.
Legal experts and child psychologists have since debated whether such rhetoric shaped Britain’s approach to juvenile justice for decades to come — hardening public attitudes and fuelling punitive reforms that prioritized punishment over rehabilitation.
Enduring Pain, Lingering Questions
Both Venables and Thompson were released on licence in 2001 under new identities, having served eight years. Thompson has lived quietly since, with no known reoffending. Venables, however, has returned to prison several times for offences related to child abuse imagery — a fact that continues to torment James Bulger’s family.
Each time Venables applies for parole, the case resurfaces in public debate, reigniting old wounds. Fergus has repeatedly argued that his repeated breaches of the law prove he should never have been freed. “Every time he reoffends, it feels like we’re back there again,” she has said. “It’s like losing James all over.”
A Community That Cannot Forget
In Bootle, the echoes of 1993 remain tangible. Local residents still recall the fear and disbelief that followed James’s abduction from the Strand Shopping Centre, when CCTV footage showing the small boy being led away by two older children shocked the world.
Three decades later, the tragedy has become a dark landmark in Britain’s social memory — a crime that forced the country to confront its understanding of childhood, morality, and justice.
For Denise Fergus, it remains personal, raw, and endless. “The wounds don’t ever heal,” she writes. And for many across Britain, those words resonate still — a reminder that while time moves on, some horrors never truly fade.