Observing how power flows within organisations is a fascinating task. Traditionally power flows from the top of an institution down to its base. Those in charge are supposed to administer their power so that the authority and expertise of those in leadership flows smoothly from the top to the bottom. But the truth is, of course, that power within institutions seldom works like this. There are countless permutations in the way power operates. Sometimes those at the bottom of the structure find that they have the greatest power. The ‘Chiefs’ become the bullied or oppressed at the hands of the ‘Indians’. In some cases, it is a group in the middle that seize the power to make life uncomfortable for those above and below. All that can be said as a generalisation, is that the outsider, the independent assessor, must never come with assumptions on the question ‘Who has the power in this organisation?’ Power can be found in the most unexpected places and take a variety of forms.
The classic cases of church abuse that have been examined on this blog have typically involved survivor/victims suffering at the hands of predatory (normally) male clergy. The power system at work in a church congregation is usually a traditional one, with power flowing down from a single leader to those who accept his/her authority. For abuse to take place there may be a variety of different powers in evidence. Sometimes power flows down from an individual to groom not only an individual victim, but, to quote Susie Leafe at General Synod, ‘they groom entire congregations’. This grooming is added to other manifestations of power, that of silencing or the assertion of rank and status over a minor. The child or vulnerable adult is typically told, in a variety of ways, that their testimony will never be believed over the man of power. In most cases when the complainant has tried to tell their story, this has been shown to be true. Up till about ten years ago, a child or adult complaining about abuse in the Church has had relatively little chance of being heard or taken seriously. In the past the victim of church abuse seemed to stand more chance of justice by going to the police than telling someone in the church. But, even there, however well the police do their job, the experience of abused individuals within the adversarial system of the courts has often been brutal. Why would anyone, already fragile, want to go through such an ordeal?
The record of the past thirty years of Church safeguarding has been at best mediocre and at worst poor. Today we at least accept the possibility/likelihood that the testimony of someone recalling abuse, even from years before, will probably be conveying the truth. Just because a Church leader protests innocence, complaints against him always need to be heard and properly investigated. A typical case will involve a victim who has experienced a stronger person imposing their power against them in a variety of ways. If we were to draw the dynamics of power in a visual form, we would see a victim at the centre, with various arrows of power coming down on him/her. One would be described as sexual abuse, another bullying and yet another grooming or silencing. Combined together, these arrows would have the effect of silencing and totally disempowering the one at the centre. Not all the arrows originate with the abuser. Some of them can be traced back to, say, an unsympathetic archdeacon, a lawyer employed by the insurance company or simply a bystander whose instinct is always to take the part of the abuser as a man of the cloth. However we draw the chart to describe the power flows, the traditional pattern of abuse shows power to flow in one direction, downwards. This ensures that the victim is thoroughly demoralised. The combined weight of tradition, status, money and prestige enjoyed by the church and those who worked for it, would win in most situations.
When the vast majority of the abused, in and by the church, remained largely hidden from view, it was right to use the word ‘victim’ as a description. Anyone who experiences power abuse without being able to access protection or justice of some kind, is not in a good place to heal. A ‘survivor’ by contrast is among a new generation of those hurt by the Church. Today the abused are sometimes able, not only to be heard, but also have their pleas for justice and support responded to. These individuals, some of whom I am privileged to know, are extremely brave and courageous people. They have succeeded in transforming the diagram which I mentioned in the last paragraph. The survivor is one who has some hope of finding healing. He/she has begun to reverse the direction of the arrows that tried to make them silent victims. By turning the arrows round, the survivor has started to assert power, to challenge and point, not only to their abusers, but also to those whose status and institutional roles worked against the survivor. Bishops who ‘forget’ disclosures or fail to make any record of meetings with the abused are part of the deeply shocking history of Church abuse and the way that institutional power tried to bury truth. Survivors have credible stories and because of them, they have power to change the Church. The old mental diagrams that we created for ourselves to think about the way victims are supposed to behave, no longer work.
So far, I have postulated two mental images expressed as diagrams. One is the diagram of abuse that creates ‘victims’. The other is a diagram where these so-called victims are fighting back. They are telling their story so that the power dynamics are beginning to go into reverse. The structures and bystanders that enabled the abuse are themselves put under scrutiny and challenged. The arrows all point upwards in a flow of power that refuses to tolerate the institutional power games being utilised against them. They are not always successful. The Church has invested a great deal in preserving its reputation and status within society. The battle that survivors are having to fight is ongoing. Nevertheless, the diagram of power flow in the Church will never be the same as it was thirty years ago when the word of Church authorities could not be challenged.
There are of course other new power dynamics in the Church which run in parallel with the new credence being offered to survivors. Many clergy today seem to be in a permanent state of tension, thanks to the outworking of the Clergy Discipline Measure (CDM). This measure effectively gives any disgruntled or upset parishioner the right to make a complaint against the Vicar or priest. So far, the Church has not tolerated complaints based on ‘political’ or theological grounds. Nevertheless, situations of real tension, even hatred can arise when a group of parishioners decide that their priest is not ‘sound’. The ‘unsound’ Vicar can be pestered to the point of a nervous breakdown by factions using the CDM tool. I am not suggesting that CDMs are being used to adjudicate in these kinds of disputes. Bishops are not (yet?) requiring Vicars to move on as the result of parishioners complaining about their ideology/preaching. But it has become clear that some clergy, who are embroiled in some kind of political spat, are having to be constantly on alert lest some mishap can be inflated and made the centre of a CDM complaint. The CDM does not have to succeed to keep the clergyperson in a constant state of tension. They are afraid to upset parishioners, particularly the articulate ones. These know how to play the system and are not intimidated by the CDM forms they have to fill in. These can threaten the sleep and general well-being of their clergy.
In the past the arrows indicating the flow of power in the Church all flowed downwards. Clerical/episcopal power was unchallenged and few complaints about the misuse of power were ever heard. Now that the possibility of clerical malfeasance is an acknowledged issue, clergy everywhere have to watch every word, every gesture in case it is misunderstood or misinterpreted. There are, however, still some parishes and congregations where challenging authority is all but impossible. These are those, which because of ‘biblical’ principles, the hierarchy do not allow themselves to be challenged. Such leaders are effectively appointed by God. Their judgement and opinions share the same infallibility that are afforded to the words of Scripture.
The situation of Martyn Percy at Christ Church presents us with an extremely complicated power diagram. Although there is an alleged ‘victim’ somewhere on an imagined chart, it is hard to see that she has become in any way at the real centre of this complex power struggle. What seems to be true is that powerful individuals in the College have been waiting for something to happen which allows them to deploy their expensive team of lawyers to drive him from office. Martyn is like one of many clergy in the Church of England whose situation has become vulnerable to the activities of ‘enemies’ who want to remove him. The College uses its protocols in their attempt to remove him but they are also marshalling the weapons of the Church of England, the CDM, to help them in their task. The CDM here, as elsewhere, has become weaponised and thoroughly toxic. How can it be just for a complainant Canon with a track record of malevolence against the Dean to be allowed to head up a CDM process? Is the Bishop of Oxford himself unable to see the clear power dynamics of the present situation? For justice to be done, we need to find for both College and Diocese, people who are truly independent and are prepared to view dispassionately the total dynamic and history of the Percy affair. The mob violence of a Trump crowd seems to be what we are observing at present. Calmer heads are needed to prevent massive damage to both personal and institutional reputations. History will not be kind to either the Diocese of Oxford or Christ Church College if they continue to hurtle down a path of self-destructive harm.
Many thanks. I think that a more routine form of ‘abuse’ is by those who are in a position of intermediate (and often informal) authority.
This is the crowd of, usually, senior citizens who know what they like and want it to continue, irrespective of the fact that there are often few people who are going to come after them and they will be the last of the line.
A new incumbent arrives. They make it very clear that they are paying the piper and are entitled to call the tune. If the correct tune is not played things can get ugly, and quickly: some will leave but others will attempt to fight a rearguard action with the intention of winning, sometimes at whatever costs may be necessary. If the new incumbent decides to propose liturgical changes in order to bring in more custom, there might be a revolt (though often incumbents are their own worst enemies by attempting to essay this change in tactless, tasteless or foolish ways, imagining that by altering the mode of worship they will be assured of higher attendance; this is not always so).
Similarly, many seniors (who are effective ‘elders’ as if in the Kirk) have given such long service in parish offices, that they feel entitled – in an almost proprietorial manner – to call the shots. Younger people can soon feel marginalised, or may be ‘cut’ if they try to propose innovations.
I have seen a number of instances of this – I recall one especially distressing instance in Essex where a disabled woman priest was having her life made hell by a coterie in the church, and her husband was distraught for her.
However, I also believe that this sort of problem arises in only a very small minority of parishes. However, a small minority is always too many.
As to political views I grew up in a parish where Mervyn Stockwood had decided to install a firebrand from Wandsworth whose views teetered on the brink of communism. As this was in the heart of the gin and Jaguar belt during the 1980s the impact was basically disastrous. Yes, Ronald Bowlby decided to protect this man (whom I and others actually liked), but as soon as he strayed from his marriage vows he was gone in an instant, although that decision might have been taken shortly after Roy Williamson was translated from Bradford (I forget); tragically, this man died not long after.
As I have mentioned before, these problems are often a function of the extinction of the freehold. Incumbents of this type were, and are, impossible to dislodge. For example, there is a well-known example of an excellent rural single parish freehold incumbent in East Anglia appointed in 1974, so before the 1975 Measure (and whom I like immensely), who did stray from his marriage vows, yet remains in office.
Sorry, almost impossible to dislodge.
I think survivors have always been brave and courageous, the advent of social media has made the task of being heard collectively a lot easier and the better understanding of the nature of abuse has meant the climate in which to raise concerns is easier. However without the incredible courage of the people who started challenging power in the church in an extremely hostile environment (Margaret Kennedy) it is unlikely that the survivors of today would have the same solid foundations to work from.
I fully appreciate that the most common scenario in abuse cases is that the abuser will deny everything, as your blog suggests, but there is another perhaps stranger power dynamic. In my case my abuser denies absolutely nothing, the boundaries broken were extremely serious but no action happens. I am a survivor with all the proof I could ever want but the vicar is still in office with no sanctions against him, his current parish don’t even know his history. So where at face value it may seem as if I have all the power in fact it appears I have none. It is very odd and not understanding it has made any sort of healing all the harder because it plays into the ‘I must be the bad one’ part of my CSA past.
Really sorry to hear that, Trish. I hope it catches up with him.
‘his current parish don’t even know his history’ Trish that is appalling. It brought back a long buried memory of someone who wangled his way into C of E ministry with an invented CV, including a double first from Oxford and a PhD from Durham. In fact he had left school at 16 with a few O levels. He was manipulative and controlling. When the truth came out, he abruptly resigned without notice, became a Catholic layman and eventually a Catholic priest. When he died suddenly, there was no reference in his obituary about his Anglican past. It was as if the Catholic Church was unaware that he had ever been an Anglican.
Trish I cannot understand it either and you know that is because it is indefensible and a miscarriage of justice and against all safeguarding protocols.
I wish I was back in UK and could do more to fight with you.
I can’t understand why they think they are justified in re-abusing you like this, or even why they want to. What are they afraid of? Who are they trying to protect?
Sorry close to just ranting now so will shut up. Just, you deserve better Trish. You absolutely do.
Martin Sewell. Seen your article on safeguarding in the Readers’ magazine, Transforming Ministry. Excellent, thank you.
Thank you Stephen, I really like the image of turning the arrows round.
Unfortunately, as Trish and my cases show, still that can result in further abuse, as the ‘system’ defends it’s own still and shafts the survivor with secondary abuse.
How do we tackle that? Will the proposed independent investigation and CDM reforms be enough?
There is something about the crowd mentality you wrote about in the previous post happening here too. I have no doubt that the individuals on my case are basically good people trying to do a good job. I think that is true of most of us. But in the ‘system’ they become absorbed into an institutional culture that still seeks to minimise, deny, defend. It reminds me of what Walter Wink wrote about the (spiritual) powers, in group/organisations.
How do we tackle that? Where is the locus of power – all kinds of power, positional, disciplinary, sovereign, spiritual? Foucault of course said that power is embodied and dispersed, and it’s about the discourse of power and truth, so perhaps I am asking the wrong question.
Jane. I wish I could answer all your questions and suggest solutions to all the dilemmas you face. You have to remember that ultimately all that happens here is one person thinking out loud. If that thinking echoes with others, then that is progress. Sometimes, just sometimes, the ideas resonate to a wider audience and rattle cages. Most of the time the progress that is being made is tiny but I and you persevere in our different ways because we sense that history is on our side. One small measurable thing is that more people read this blog (including your comments) than they did two years ago. That is a sort of progress!
That is definitely progress!
I was thinking as I wrote earlier, that discussions on social media and this blog are both excellent examples of the discourse Foucault talks about. I think this blog has played a significant role in sustaining the discourse around safeguarding, abuse and response to survivors in the Church of England, and I am very thankful for it.
As an advocate I like to be strategic and have a clear goal, but I also have found that it is very important to keep living with the questions. These things are so complex and there are no simple solutions. It’s also important that we reflect even on the way we tackle things. At the moment, for example, I am trying to create connections within the church survivor community. Not just because I think there is strength in unity and collaboration; but also because ‘divide & rule’ is also a misuse of power, and we need to be careful not to collude with that.
We won’t agree about everything, we’ll have different priorities and tasks to do; but important that we don’t compete for space or undermine each other, perhaps through lack of understanding or communication.
Any survivors who would like to join us who aren’t already on our mailing list, please get in touch!
Thanks for the supportive comments about my case. I agree Jane that working collectively and respectfully of each other is important and can recommend Survivors Voices for its inclusive and responsive approach. I think this blog also has a collective feel but because people comment on whatever Stephen or guest authors have chosen to write about it triggers different things in each of us which can support individual action.
So after reading this post I challenged my DSA and Bishop as to why on their website safeguarding page they say it is good practice to have the diocesan secretary as line manager to the DSA when Bishop Jonathan Gibbs has said that because of their lack of professional training and potential conflict of interest they are unsuitable for the role.
The reply from the DSA was really dreadful which is another odd power dynamic because he used to be one of the SCIE auditors before getting this job and had a Twitter page that would often be supportive of survivors and he supported Letters to a Broken Church but in the first week of being in the job he deleted his Twitter page and the diocese never mentions the book! The power of an enhanced salary would also seem to be very influential.
Trish, which is your diocese? As a member of General Synod striving to achieve best practice and process for both complaints/survivors and the those accused (and one of those who instigated the amendment to the motion at General Synod in February 2020 to call for the setting up of a redress scheme for survivors of abuse), I don’t think that what you report about your DSA should be anonymous. Moreover, the recommendation of IICSA (adopted already, I’m pleased to say, in my diocese of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich) is that DSAs should be redesignated as DSOs to emphasise their independent role.
Thanks David, I am in Southwark diocese. The website says it will make the DSA a DSO and this will complement their already good practice of having the diocesan Secretary as line manager. I have questioned this statement. A DSO title could still be little more than window dressing if line management doesn’t change accordingly. The diocese has also said it is looking to partner with survivors!! What a complete nonsense after the reply I received.
I was actually going to send the emails to Martin but the response I received from the DSA made me so angry I am regrouping before contacting Martin, poor chap! I will ask him to share the emails with you if he feels they would help in advocating for this change in any way.
I agree with Stephen’s observations. And I too find the image of turning the arrows around helpful. However the church still targets me because I complained and could prove my complaint. There is another reason individuals consent, either consciously or unconsciously, to the church’s institutional pressure to cover up or turn a blind eye at all costs, and to protect the guilty at the cost of those who have been victimised. They simply have not made Gospel values their own. The traditional method of actually owning Christian precepts is to meditate on them daily. When we do this we gradually absorb values to the extent we act out of this centre and are able to stand up to challenges to those values. Presumably Bishops have not been chosen for their holiness but for other reasons. The result is clear for all to see. Were the majority of spiritual leaders chosen because they are mature in the Christian faith, their “groupthink” would be the reverse of what we have seen and it would be easier for individuals to do the right thing. The groupthink which has been exposed by safeguarding scandals bears witness to the paucity of Christian values which the hierarchy hold. It is easier for good people to behave in line with Christian values if both they, and other members of the group live them out. Where this is not the case, good individuals have a harder, more challenging task to behave as they should. The threats reported by complainants when making
safeguarding complaints indicate a problematic attitude to any Bishop who genuinely challenges the current groupthink. Whilst leaders actually believe their reputations are of the utmost importance, and more important than justice for victims and survivors, they will continue to collude in protecting themselves and others. They would need a real change of heart, that is conversion, before they would change their behaviour. As this has not been forthcoming, the only solution currently is to take away their safeguarding responsibilities. Yes we do act differently in a crowd. But a crowd of mature Christians is very different to a crowd of people who do not hold to Christian values, to the extent they put themselves and hold their comfort to be the highest priority. It is obvious, that with notable exceptions, members of General Synod have not adequately challenged our leaders about safeguarding. We can see the emporers have no clothes, and the general public can see it too. I fear the church itself is responsible for crushing any interest in organised religion. I hope and pray it does not crush faith and belief in God.
Thank you for all your continued hard work and writings.
Thanks Stephen. I am dismayed to hear about the CDM – Clergy Discipline Measure. No wonder the groundless accusation made as an act of revenge against my vicar friend was not dismissed at first hearing but ‘taken seriously.’ Because of something about it being posted subsequently by the diocese on a website, a parishioner got the wrong idea about the issue, and the vicar was beaten up in the street. This is what happens when “truth has perished; it has vanished from their lips (Jeremiah 7:28).” Grim.
That’s awful.
Stephen is right when he says some people choose to exercise power obliquely. We probably all know them – the person who makes themselves indispensable by being the only one who knows how to operate the church sound system, or heating, or accounting system, and refuses to train up anyone else to cover their absences. The one who has been churchwarden or Sunday school leader for 25 years and won’t let anyone else have a go. The one who undermines anyone leading any group, but refuses to take the responsibility of a leadership position themselves.
People can choose odd ways of exercising control and soft power. When I did my incumbents’ training course, the Diocesan Secretary told us of a parish who every year had a shortfall in their budget, and every year the treasurer generously made up the lack himself. Everyone wa every grateful, and of course there Ewa snow question of anyone else taking over as treasurer when they had this philanthropic chap. How would they cope without him? Then he died. And those settling his affairs found his secret account, where he siphoned off sums from the collections throughout the year, only to give the total as a ‘gift’ of exactly the amount needed to cover the shortfall.
Anyone leading a parish – or any other group – needs to be aware of hidden power dynamics.
My Diocesan Secretary is also line manager for safeguarding, and there are probably others.
my understanding is that this will be addressed as part of implementing the IICSA recommendations. I’m sure a number of us here will be active in holding them to account about that!