Getting into the back of a taxi has never been as simple as opening the door.

Not for me, anyway, or I would argue, any other woman.

Before the car has even pulled away, I’ve usually shared my live location with someone.

I’ve checked the registration plate. I’ve made sure Uber’s safety features are switched on. Sometimes I’ve even pretended to be on the phone because a fake conversation somehow feels safer than silence.

I know I’m not alone.

Almost every woman I know has her own version of these rituals. They’re so ingrained we barely think about them anymore. We just do them.

Not because we’re paranoid, but because we’ve learned to.

Women spend enough of their lives being told to think about their own safety.

Don’t walk home alone. Text when you get in. Share your location. Trust your instincts. Check the registration. Sit behind the driver. Call someone if something doesn’t feel right.

We’re constantly reminded that keeping ourselves safe is, in part, our responsibility.

Which is why I couldn’t stop thinking about all of those little precautions as I read about Highland Council’s decision to allow a taxi operator’s licence to remain in the name of David Brown – the man jailed for raping a woman in his own taxi.

There are some news stories where the facts almost become secondary.

Not because they don’t matter. They........

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