While 'access to justice' is a reasonably good summary statement of aspirations, its implementation is a historical process involving far more than passing laws.
The clause is actually the title of the autobiography of Lord Woolf who steered the Access to Justice Act 1999 through parliament. My modest personal acquaintance with its direct outcome lies in paragraphs 35 and 36 which regulate the process of appointing, managing and delivering expert witness services. As the training for this role makes clear, before that Act, very often legal proceedings had very much a 'trial by ambush' character by contrast with relatively robust disclosure of evidence as the basis for trial, in both civil and legal cases.
While it may be the case that removal of 'strict' liability lacks fairness, it is a moot point whether there are members of either houses of parliament who combine the necessary understanding, skill and commitment required to generate the necessary opposition. It took the granite-like resistance of the unusually well-informed Baroness Shirley Williams, and the commitment to the NHS she developed in a relatively classless home, to galvanise the support necessary to dilute the more crude proposals to the bills that have recently changed the NHS.
What remains a matter of concern about the Loftstedt review, and of the part played by IOSH in its composition, is how procedural justice relies on scientific evidence in interpreting laws. This is especially the case in relation to human behaviour, whether physical, cognitive or affective. It remains extremely difficult for claimants in civil cases about even severe musculoskeletal and stress-related cases to find a medical specialist to stand by an opinion that appears 'reasonable', in the sense that recurrrent failures of managers to respect pleas for help were dismissed or ignored. The instance of the Court of Appeal in the case of Intel v Daws dramatised this: before her attempted suicide, Daws (and her supportive line manager) made no less than 14 claims under the grievance procedure that her workload was excessive; time and time again, senior managers including HR, dismissed her claim relying simply on their assertion that 'counselling' was a sufficient management tactic (as in the Sunderland and Hutton cases). The point is that the argument was lost by the employer at the highest level on the grounds of both medical and ergonomic evidence (the latter about work design).
The reference by Bob L is disability is pertinent and partly valid, in so far as it is taking the same kind of historical evolution for consensus to emerge about controlling safety as it has about discrimination. What seems 'common sense' and 'obvious' remains difficult to sustain without robust scientific argument. Ironically, even some prestigious expert ergonomists with engineering backgrounds commonly make quite crass errors in their statements about human behaviour of a social nature when they substitute physical principles (e.g. every action has a reaction), for socially valid evidence, even though what they asssert has been experimentally rejected several decades ago and written up in hundreds of scientific journals. A lot of progress has been made in social psychology over the past 4 decades, especially in Europe, but it's application in psychology too often remains restricted to 'behavioural safety', with its individualistic assumptions.
While 'a long revolution' can feel arduous, its outcomes are usually more robust than sprints that leave little trace.