In the past week my attention has been drawn to a useful essay https://www.academia.edu/37932680/The_Lawful_Argument_for_the_Disestablishment_of_the_Church_of_England on the topic of disestablishment of the Church of England. The author, Richard Conway, a lawyer, is suggesting that the current safeguarding crisis in the Church of England is so serious that it brings into question the arrangements by which the Church is established and allowed to enjoy much legal independence. In short, the Church needs to lose some of these legal privileges to allow outside bodies to oversee its safeguarding. For me, the interest of the paper is not this issue of disestablishment. It is the way that Conway sets out clearly the overall state of play over safeguarding in the Church, including a brief summary of Gilo’s story and the Elliot report that followed it. A second point, of even greater value for me, is the fascinating section on the culture of the Church. Although Conway is addressing problems in the Church of England, his comments could equally be said to apply to the Catholic Church, particularly after the IICSA hearing on Thursday 13 December. The culture of protecting the institution,doubting and challenging the evidence of survivors and generally impeding the pursuit of justice, is an issue for both the major churches in this country. But, returning to the Church of England and Conway’s paper, the claim is made strongly that the Church of England, based on its past record, is incapable of managing safeguarding on its own without outside help.
I want to look at some of the observations that Conway makes with regard to the Church of England culture. These overlap with themes that this blog has tried to explore in the past. We have frequently mentioned the instinctive desire to protect the institution against perceived attacks from the outside. This may take the form of covering up incidences of abuse, not recognising them for what they are and failing to report them to the secular authorities. Some church members will typically question the credibility of survivors and victims as well ‘degradate these individuals in favour of the alleged abusers’.
What Conway adds to the discussion beyond these observations,is an attempt to explain this defensive stance in psychological/sociological terms. The paper refers to an article published in 2017 in ‘Child Abuse Review’. This supports the hypothesis that church people have typically a tendency to be sceptical in the face of the claims of survivors. The paper then intriguingly goes on to speak of a ‘narcissistic identification’ with the church and speaks about‘selves, merged to the religious institution’.
Speaking of ‘narcissistic identification’ may make the paper a little technical for the general reader. Here, however, what is being explained is of great importance on the theme of abuse in churches, so I thought it would be worth trying to unpack this language to see what is being said about why church people are not good at treating survivors well. From bishops downwards, many church people still find it hard to welcome survivors and listen to them with the dignity and respect they deserve.
The expression ‘narcissistic identification’ takes us back to a branch of psychoanalytical theory which came into being through the writings of one Heinz Kohut in the 70s in the States. I have tried to wade through his dense prose,but the outlines of his theory are reasonably clear. Every human being has to construct a sense of self in childhood. This is accomplished through a gradual process of separation from parents. The close psychological merger with the protecting figures of infancy gives way to independence and autonomy. This is the process of establishing a secure self which has the ability to cope with the normal stresses of life and relationships. Unfortunately, the path towards securing a solid sense of self is sometimes met with set-backs, maybe caused by parental neglect or trauma. In the place of a secure self, the child and later adult has a weakened identity. They are, according to the classic Kohutian model, ‘narcissistically wounded’,though the levels of its severity will vary enormously. Their recourse is to seek ‘self-objects’, entities(people or things) with which they can merge to relieve the emptiness that exists inside them. The need to ‘feed’ their emptiness by a variety of strategies, will sometimes involve controlling groups of other people. Narcissistic behaviour will normally be a trait of cult leaders who are manipulating their followers in ways that that meet their emotional neediness of the leader. Narcissistic neediness may also be found among the followers of a religious/political leader. He/she provides a powerful but flawed role model with which to identify, again fulfilling the role of a ‘self-object’. The dynamics of many churches, particularly those of a charismatic style, can be interpreted by recourse to this narcissistic model.
When Conway speaks about a ‘narcissistic identification’ on the part of church members, he appears to be saying that the church institution has become a ‘self-object’, a part of the ‘self ’of its members so that one can speak of a narcissistic merger with it. To put it another way, the sense of self/identity has become bound up seamlessly with their membership of the church. There is probably nothing surprising or unusual in this, except when it becomes an impediment to clear vision and the just treatment of abuse survivors.
Richard Conway is familiar with Gilo’s story and he knows the extraordinary way that several bishops completely failed to ‘recollect’ the moment they were told about Gilo’s encounters with his abuser. The same institutional narcissism seems to beat work as when people within congregations cannot bear to hear any ill of people who have become part of their identity in a narcissistic way. To attack my hero, the one on whom I have identified some key parts of my identity, is to attack me.
The explanation of the way that narcissistic processes are at work in the failure of some congregations and church leaders to support victims and believe their stories is an important insight in our attempt to understand the Church’s failures in this area. It will always be dangerous to internalise the idea that the individual is below the organisation. Not only does the notion fail justice, as we have seen happen in both Catholic and Anglican churches, but it also destroys and undermines integrity and honesty, both corporate and individual.
An interesting article Stephen. I note the narcissism you feel endemic to the Church of England. My Church of Scotland has differently been described as institutionalized suspicion. Whether the different Church polities have to do with that needs to be examined. The two Churches are chalk and cheese in some ways but Tweedledee and Tweedledum in others.
I’m thinking we are all incomplete in one way or another, and we all get hurt, often by those we love, because that hurts more. I remember a terrible time in the Baptist church I belonged to at the time when the minister’s marriage broke up. Some people were awful. Basically because they were so disappointed. I came to the conclusion then that disappointment is a function of unrealistic expectations as often as not. Is it not natural, too, to cling to something that has filled gaps, comforted you, or just made you happy? And most people just find it very hard to see that people behave differently to different people. “He’s always been nice to me”! Even if that’s just an expression of surprise, it sounds like ” you’re making it up” to a victim. And then you have to get your head round the fact that good people do bad things and vice versa. The people who do bad things don’t look different to anyone else. They’d be easy to spot. They look like you and me. Sometimes they are you and me.
Apologies, English Athena, I’ve realised I just repeated your point!
We humanoids are strange souls. We brits especially so.
The beam and the mote.
Permit me a confession. Last night I was alone, it was dark and I was tired. I turned to Channel 5. I watched yet again, highlights of a day I remember with tears.
I took my son to see India. At the Oval. We saw A. Cook in his final innings score 147. Having been dismissed, each member of the Indian team queued to shake his hand, despite his having destroyed their prospects.
Because Cook has ascended to cricketing immortality. His game transcended, in that moment, the reality of the actual game being played. There were the highest number of standing ovations since records began.
On reaching his century he looked up to heaven himself, and gave thanks. In the congregation, people dressed in robes (as cooks as it happens) cheered wildly and chanted.
Cricket is part of who I am. My identity. A non-believer, perhaps an American, must think I’m completely deranged. In need of therapy. I answer ‘yes’ to both accusations.
For me it’s one of Kohut’s self objects, an important nucleus of meaning in my head, an important reference point of life values. To me it makes perfect sense; to others it’s a total mystery.
I can spot oddness in other people at fifty paces. But not in myself.
The challenge in Stephen’s important post here, is to figure out how to address the serious shortcomings in the systems other people live in, whilst acknowledging our own.
Something that I did not make clear in my piece is that ‘self-objects’ are not necessarily bad things. What makes them bad is when the person who acts as a self-object for me is bruised and battered by the experience. The most dangerous person is the one whose personality is so damaged that they function only when exploiting/bullying/flattering someone else. A place where there is a lot of bullying and what we learn to call ‘narcissistic identification’ is probably highly unhealthy, just as any environment where addictions are taken for granted. It is a question of judgement and discernment. Passion for cricket, or indeed passion for anything, does not link up with the true neediness of a narcissistic sufferer. The difference can be compared by looking at the person in love and the individual with some desperate sexual addiction.
When Kohut published his book ‘Analysis of the Self’ in 1971, he might not have predicted just how far “narcissism” has become a buzz word in popular parlance. Like many jargon technical words, its meaning changes depending on who is using it. Commonly it now becomes a pejorative term, whereas that was not how Kohut used it. If our audience is technical other people, e.g. social scientists or psychoanalysts, then our usage means something different from when said in front of people on the Clapham omnibus.
We can either influence our audience or estrange them. Or mislead them inadvertently. Or all three.
I would reiterate a point I made before, that “diagnosing” a person or organisation from a distance can be dangerous. And what’s the treatment doctor?
We need to translate what we think we know into a language other people understand. Just telling someone they’re “drunk”, for example, may not lead to any changes at all. As Churchill once replied: ‘You’re ugly, but tomorrow I’ll be sober’. He maintained his prodigious alcohol consumption.
We need to be a lot more creative if we are to break through to those concealed areas of unconscious fear, both in individuals and organisations. Just understanding and pronouncing isn’t enough.
‘Understanding and pronouncing’ isn’t enough if attempting to break through someone else’s unconscious fear and damaging behaviour, and lead them into growth. It’s essential, however, if on the receiving end of someone else’s damaging behaviour. If you have no idea where someone else is coming from and what their motivation might be, you’re in no position to cope or respond appropriately.
For instance, trying to placate a bully will only lead to more bullying, but trying to placate someone with a genuine grievance can be restorative not only for that person but for others too. But bullies need to be resisted.
The times I’ve made serious mistakes in leadership have been the times I wrongly assessed people and therefore mishandled them and the situation. In particular, failing to identify a narcissist and putting them in a position of leadership can be disastrous.
I think ‘narcissistic identification’ is a useful concept, and helps us understand why church people can get so upset about what seem trifling changes. This may work in politics too – certainly many Remainers (of which I’m one) often don’t understand how vitally important British identity is to many Leavers. Making fun of them or criticising them for it, of course, only makes it worse – to win hearts and minds we need to show we understand.
My piece is an attempt to use Kohut’s ideas in a coherent way. I was trying to ‘translate’ the difficult bits without indulging in popularisation. Neither I nor the original article were implying perjorative ideas for narcissism. It is a descriptive word. It is however a useful model with which to understand power issues. I am glad you have like me, Steve, have read some of Kohut. Few people have even heard of him, even among professionals.