Sometimes in the dark hours of the night when I cannot sleep, I keep my brain occupied by thinking about words and their meanings. A word that recently buzzed around my brain was the word entitlement. I wanted to sort out in my mind why the word has two manifestations, one honourable and the other less so. The good expression of the word can be speedily defined. People acquire the right to certain privileges because these have been earned. A pensioner has an entitlement to his/her pension because payments have been made to a notional fund over 40+ years. Likewise, a sick person in the UK is entitled to NHS health treatment. Society has agreed to support such a scheme and money is taken out of the tax system to pay for it.
Moving on from this positive meaning of entitlement I began to reflect on the shadow side that is indicated by this word. We have all met people who have a sense of entitlement in a negative sense. These individuals demand privileges and favours because they believe that this is what they deserve. Sometimes favours are demanded from others because those with an entitled attitude feel that their higher status or wealth gives them the right to receive special treatment. They may also regard others who are around them as socially and in every other way their inferiors. Sometimes these ‘lesser beings’ are deliberately exploited in some way. Demands made of them may, in extreme examples, involve sexual favours. In some way the person of entitlement seems to feel that his/her status is enhanced through treating others badly.
Recently we have all read about the poor treatment of junior members of staff in the House of Commons by senior politicians. Bullying, the humiliation and the exploitation of juniors seems to be rife in many institutions. The impression we get in reading these stories is that when some individuals obtains status, wealth or power, they feel they are only expressing this fully when they also bully and humiliate those below them. This is not to say that every senior politician or person holding power does this, but it happens so frequently that we can describe it as common behaviour. The sexual abuse of young athletes and would be footballers by their trainers is also something that is commonplace. We would hope that there are many other trainers and coaches, not to mention politicians working with young interns, who do not behave like this. Newspaper readers cannot be blamed for obtaining the opposite impression.
When we think about these episodes of bullying and sexual abuse in so many different settings, we quickly come back to this word ‘entitlement’. It would appear to be an important concept to help us understand this kind of behaviour. What seems to happen is that when individuals receive new status in an institution, it sometimes changes them in a negative way. A promotion may involve a new title. The new appellation Sir, Bishop, Lord/Lady, Captain or Vicar, tricks the promoted individual into thinking that some shift has taken place to make them somehow of superior importance. Having changed in their own self-perception to becoming a person of increased power, the way that they feel they should relate to other people may also undergo a transformation. Following a short process of adjusting to the new role and title, new, sometimes malign, methods of relating are established. Alongside an increased tendency to look down on others, there may be other ways of maintaining and enhancing their importance at the expense of others. Sexual misconduct is just one way of ‘acting out’ and laying claim to their new power. For sexual abuse survivors in the church there is the frequent complaint that important people, not necessarily the perpetrators, have difficulty in paying attention to detail or ‘remembering’ what is said to them about abuse incidents. It is as though the higher up you climb in a hierarchy, the more you have ‘permission’ to ignore the concerns and pain of those below you.
One thing is true for anybody in the army, the church, politics or business. New titles or promotion do not in fact change anyone in a significant way. A belief or assumption that a promotion makes such a change may well be starting off a process of a damaging fantasy. One problem is that when anyone receives any kind of preferment, the people around them often start to treat them differently. A pressure to believe that something has ontologically changed inside is thus coming from the outside as well as the inside. Important people attract to themselves others who maintain an attachment simply to enhance their own significance. All too often at the highest levels of any organisation we find, not challenging critique, but flattery, obsequiousness and grovelling behaviour. The more the person of power is surrounded by this kind of attitude, the more they start to believe the ‘myth’ of their power and entitlement.
Recently I have been trying to make sense of the behaviour of 18+ Anglican bishops who reportedly have failed to act honourably in the case of sexually abused individuals who have disclosed to them. I am asking myself whether we are observing here some of the features of this wrong kind of entitlement being played out in their lives. The new responsibilities that bishops have in the church may have been thought of as giving them access to special power. A perception or belief that they are somehow hyper spiritual/important through the laying on of hands may well lead to damaging consequences. The reality of their situation is that by taking a role within the hierarchy of this institution, they are the more locked into its political dimension. When the Church gets things wrong in its responsibility for caring for the interests of its abused members, then the bishops, as part of the leadership, participate in this failure. Institutional status and influence may be a poor reward for a sense of compromised integrity that may come to be theirs as part of an organisation, arguably in crisis. It is a lonely place to represent and lead in an organisation that may be failing to observe its own values and standards.
Last week I implied that the position of Dean of Christ Church might be a poisoned chalice for any future candidate for the post. I have a similar fear for the post of diocesan bishop in the Church of England. At present there are still people willing to stand as candidates for this role. Over the next 20 years this situation could well change as the real stresses of running a diocese became more widely understood. A major question for bishops is to discover how to preserve personal integrity when the organisation you are leading is in places allowing some types of corruption to seep in as part of a strategy to defend itself. If the institution becomes further compromised by this pressure to protect itself, then all its leaders may find their personal integrity under attack. Increasingly individuals, when offered such a post, would want to reject it outright. In the States we witness the corruption of the entire administration led by President Trump. Only people of doubtful morality and reputation seem prepared to be in the employ of this current President. His brand has become so toxic that everyone decent is not prepared to be considered for office. May that never happen to our Church of England.
We have the secular concept of human rights as the bedrock of good entitlement in our world. Of course this can be seen as an expression of God’s equal love of all.
Last week I went into hospital for a procedure. It amounted to a repeat of something I’d had many years ago, as a teenager. Back then I recall being asked by the admitting nurse “what Religion are you?” I’d answered proudly: “Christian”, a response which flummoxed the nurse. Of course then the options were: C of E, or RC etc. Forward to 2018, no such question.
Thankfully, then as now, nothing untoward was uncovered although these days (for the un-squeamish) you can watch the whole procedure on a TV monitor. But it struck me when reflecting on Stephen’s article, that Religion has been relegated.
The sense of entitlement is anachronistic. The experience of priestly preferment lags from between two decades to two generations behind the experience in society of organised Religion from the outside. To be able to live with such a split, is uniquely human.
And being human too, priests have lifted their own veils and gone on television. One went on ‘Strictly Come Dancing’, another on ‘Gogglebox’. Highly entertaining they were too. But let’s face it, there’s not much mystery anymore.
For hundreds of years the parish priest was one of the main men, if not the main man in the village. What little education there was, he’d had it. He was the “go to” person. Of course, not any more. Nowadays a degree in theology (or several) is no match for the surrounding knowledge growth. Automatic acknowledgement as the fount of all knowledge and wisdom, has long since passed.
At times most of us participate in archaic rituals. Just in case. I still think there’s a strong reluctance to call out poor leadership in the church. In former times ordinary people would not have had a voice. Now they do. Then it was: ‘blame the victim’; now, less so. Survivors are beginning to coalesce into groups. Even Government is getting on board by funding, for example, The Truth Project. Even if you think this juxtaposition sounds oxymoronic, there appears to be an unstoppable momentum for change.
Regardless of whether the ‘entitled’ realise it or not, their world is changing.
Great post, Stephen. And may I recommend chamomile tea!
More seriously, I wonder whether the sense of entitlement is already there in most of those who go strange when given authority? But at last, now the world has recognised it! Like narcissism, to which I suspect it may be related, it ought to be identifiable at selection. The church needs to get a grip!
He sleeps much better than I do and anyway, chamomile tea is a lethal diuretic!
Hi Frances. It works for me, after forty years of taking two hours to get to sleep! Mind you, the side effect may be true, too!
I usually rely on half a piriton, 2 paracetamol and 50 pages of crime fiction, but I’d check with the doc first on the meds.
Don’t worry. I get to sleep easily. It is what happens if I wake up again in the night that is the problem!
Same here Stephen
Athena. Narcissism and entitlement are close bed-fellows; indeed entitlement is one of the nine signs of NPD in the text books. I was exploring it in my mind as a separate entity since there is a special church version that is around. It should spotted at the training stage but most of the time it isn’t. As Steve points out, the institutional power that feeds entitlement in the church is going to work less well as the church retreats from the centre stage of society.
On the subject of entitlement I remember the Rev John Miller, a former Moderator of the Church of Scotland who told of an experience he had in his local Post Office in Castlemilk, one of the multi-deprivational areas in the suburbs of Glasgow. When he went there as a young man in the 70s. he was waiting at the back of a big queue of people when the Post Office woman serving, seeing “the minister” in his dog collar, waved to him to come forward and she would serve him first.
This experience caused him to wonder why he should be given a position of entitlement over the over the people he was called to serve. He abandoned his dog collar shortly after because of this because he didn’t want to be seen as somebody expecting to be given preferment before the souls he was called to minister to. He stuck to this principle even 30 years later when he was appointed Moderator of the Church turning down the special moderatorial attire expected of the holder.
I know it isn’t everything there is to say on the subject but when Jesus bent down to take a towel in his hands he wasn’t wearing a Mitre or gold ring. How we declare ourselves to the world, even in dress, matters.
Just as an aside, recruitment has been mentioned a number of times here recently. Amongst many of my friends and acquaintances who have gone forward into ordained ministry, I have noticed a number of sub-types:
1 The “I can’t believe it’s me” type
These poor souls, often with low self esteem, underestimate their own gifts and abilities. To be selected, they believe, they are punching above their weight. For a long time in ministry they are largely submissive, retain their humanity and usually their humility. They are flattered to be recruited. It promises answers to existential questions they are asking, but can seldom deliver.
2 The “I don’t really know what to do next” type
Often In underpaid musical worship ministry, these types are approaching the end of their useful lives as worship leaders. Age 30 has been and gone. The original deal of a low salary but low outgoings and subsidised accommodation, has been replaced with a partner and young children. Having long since given up more worldly careers, the only serious option is ordained (stipendiary) ministry.
3 The charismatic (small ‘c’) type
These are the most prone to narcissism. They sail through life with a bow wave of hype. Many others are taken in, which fosters a brittle but virtuous cycle of follower-ship. They represent quick wins for selectors because they can deliver numbers. The Church wants numbers. Unfortunately these are the most problematic recruits because inevitably the hype exceeds reality. What they lack in ability is exposed when mistakes are made. The higher they rise in the clergy, the more catastrophic is the impact of their misdemeanours.
4 The super bright type
These guys ace every exam they’ve ever taken. Other people are rather in awe of them. Occasionally, and I intend no disrespect here to either side, they are on the autistic spectrum. At selection, they are well ahead of the pack, going on to write exceptionally good essays and even to win prizes. Leadership is thrust upon them. And that is when things sometimes go awry. ‘People skills’ may be rather lower down on their long lists of gifts, as Janet Fife alluded to in an earlier thread.
The above starter for four is obviously not an exhaustive list. Recruitment is a very important area. Personally I believe it’s as much a responsibility of the church to avoid nurturing narcissists as well as to un-blindfold the naive. Work needs to be done to avoid just filling quotas, and to de-mystify the arduous but rewarding task ahead for those they do take on.
I love Leslie’s example of the humble Moderator.
Yes, I like the sound of John Miller. The days when being stitched into your dog collar proclaimed a life-time calling are gone. These days it’s more “who does he think he is?” ” get her! ”
Yes, I’ve seen some depressingly useless people go into ordained ministry. Including those who aren’t too bright, either because the people who promote them don’t like the competition, or from an attempt not to put forward only middle class, grammar school and university educated!
But may I add the group of “miscellaneous”. Reasonably nice, probably above average intelligence, but not brain surgeon, maybe strong, maybe sometimes a bit pushy, but not a bully, or mild, even a little too easily put upon, hard working and conscientious, with a conscience. Normal, with a streak of saintliness. They get leadership posts whether they want them or not. They get no training in personnel management. They are used to reactive ministry, and they end up with eleven churches and no training in time management. They need people to help them, but are trained to do everything themselves. They know much less about music than their organists, but know they have to choose the music. The Reader is actually a better preacher, but that makes them feel guilty so they knock themselves out trying to do it all. I’ve met a fair few of those, too.
Yes, I must say I feel for your ‘miscellaneous’ types. I suspect they do the bulk of the work with insufficient training. Even a little can go a long way.
I read recently that some ordinands have already mapped out their career path by the time they begin theological training. I’m sure this is true; I remember one of my fellow ordinands telling me he’d worked out the correct path of appointments to take in order to be made a bishop. It began with qualifications from Oxford and/or Cambridge; he had a first degree from Cambridge and was training at Oxford. Sure enough he took all the other steps he’d worked out, including a spell as a bishop’s chaplain. However, he isn’t a bishop. Yet.
The irony of confiding all this to a fellow student who, at that point, couldn’t even be sure of being ordained priest obviously escaped him. One thing about female ordinands from my generation, we didn’t go into ministry for its promotion prospects or status. Which doesn’t mean, sadly, that some of us didn’t become entitled.
The premeditated ambitious type occurs in other walks of life, but is disturbing to hear of in Holy Orders. I’m not surprised though!
The bishop’s chaplain bit is interesting. Perhaps he felt that to be near the centre of power he could sprinkle some of its fairy dust over him. Also he would have been able to feed the ‘entitlement/narcissism of his boss, assuming that he was one those who needed such nourishment from his supporters.
When I was in retail management I had a colleague who had everything mapped out, too. He was going to be an area manager before he was 25! I was fond if him, by the way, nice man. But as a woman, if I made branch manager of a decent sized shop at any age, I would have been doing well. Many clergy come from that era. Women are nurses, men are doctors. Expectations are so much higher for men. Oh, and before you ask, I’m afraid I don’t know, we lost touch!
I think the composer Richard Wagner regarded himself as superior to those round him. His music was wonderful, but his social relationships were dire and did a lot of damage. Shame!
I knew a young man, a son of friends and a Christian who said that in his first workplace he had admitted to some fault. To him it was nothing out of the ordinary to hold his hands up and admit to a mistake but what astonished him was the attitude of his fellow workers in the office whose view was that whatever you did you never admitted to having done something wrong, you always covered your own back.
I wonder if that attitude has become so common that even in the Church confession of failure is not allowed.
I’ve always done the same. It depends on the management. If you’re heavily punished when you come clean, you’re not going to want to. If the management take the view that it’s easier to sort out if people fess up, and deal more lightly with it, then, increasingly, that’s what happens.
Admitting a mistake is acknowledging reality, but takes courage. As a leader admitting a mistake enhances your reputation amongst clear thinking people. You will lose some sycophants and become less narcissistic in the process.
Often the hardest person to admit my failures to is myself.
Culturally we are terrified of failure, but to omit to fail is to have failed to try. Failing to try is tantamount to failing to live.