Nadine Dorries is a mediocre speaker, a muddled policy maker, and regularly gives the impression of being confounded by the most elementary facts. In terms of direct legislation, her impact has been negligible. Her bill calling for abstinence education to be made compulsory for teenage girls was withdrawn in January; last year, her attempt to ban abortion providers from offering counselling was firmly voted down by MPs.Nadine Dorries
Nadine Dorries' proposals have not become law, but the anti-choice movement marches on

But though she might be bereft of the basic qualities of a parliamentarian, Dorries doesn’t need to make laws when she’s able to shape the debate instead – and there, she’s been remarkably successful. Anne Milton, parliamentary under-secretary of state for health, spoke against the abortion counselling amendment, yet also said that “the government support the spirit of the amendment”, seemingly taking in good faith Dorries’ argument that this was an attempt to ensure the welfare of vulnerable women.

More cynically, one can see it as a refined attempt to achieve the aims of an earlier piece of anti-choice legislation proposed by Dorries. Her 2006 Private Member’s Bill would have reduced the time limit for abortion to 21 weeks and enforced a ten-day “cooling-off period” for women seeking the procedure. Anything which delays access to medical treatment ultimately restricts access to that treatment: forcing women to go through several appointments with various agencies would achieve that just as surely as ten days of legal stalling.

Yet despite Parliament’s robust rejection of Dorries’ amendment, a form of it is among the three options presented by the Department of Health for reforming the provision of abortion. It’s a radically anti-choice option, because it assumes that women seeking a termination aren’t making the decision in their own interests, but because they’ve been swayed by a cynical “abortion industry” – which, in a sweep of mendacious genius, also portrays abortion providers as grisly profiteers, collecting cash for every pregnancy ended.

BPAS and Marie Stopes are both charitable bodies rather than revenue-driven companies, but that fact doesn’t derail Dorries. Why should it? She’s made equally spurious claims before – that seven-year-olds are routinely taught to slip condoms on bananas in sex-ed classes; that a 21-week-old foetus is both strong and sentient enough to punch through a uterus and grab a surgeon’s hand – and no amount of debunking has made her retract them.

Ridiculed by opponents and even her own party leader (Cameron snickered at her “frustration” during the last abortion debate, despite the fact that he has backed a reduction of the time limit to as little as 20 weeks), Dorries has nevertheless advanced her repressive causes a remarkable amount during her time in Parliament. She certainly deserved the Bad Faith Award bestowed on her by New Humanist readers last year but, the truth is, Dorries is only the most visible face of the anti-choice campaign. While she draws the flack, the debate moves after her. No wonder she’s able to disregard the arguments: part concern troll, part culture warrior, every battle she loses brings her (and her quieter supporters) a little closer to victory.