by Fiona Gardner

A recent piece of research from Sheffield University is titled: ‘They would rather not have known and me kept my mouth shut’: The role of neutralisation in responding to the disclosure of childhood sexual abuse’¹ The research uses questionnaire data from respondents – now adults who were abused as children, and how they later experienced attempts at disclosure – and then interviews some of them. The study examines the characteristic of unsupportive responses, and how disclosures can be dismissed or denied, finding that the people disclosed to often reinforced silence by utilising a variety of what have been called ‘neutralisation techniques.’ As many readers of this website know, disclosure itself is not necessarily a ‘one off’ event, but can be a lifelong experience that is repeated in a multitude of different relationships and contexts. Ways of disrupting and ‘neutralising’ disclosures are only too familiar in the church context: denial of responsibility, denial of harm, victim blaming, questioning or blaming authority (someone else should have stopped it), and, finally, loyalty to the group (usually the institution). Such techniques a bit like rationalizations, is one way of minimising any guilt felt, and a way of avoiding the difficulties posed and doing anything about them. One technique of neutralisation that the institutional church is especially skilled at are delaying tactics – months, years, and, even decades pass with correspondence and files going missing, messages unanswered or forgotten, and changes of personnel which make following things up mind-numbingly frustrating. The effect of all this is then two-fold – one to almost ‘normalise’ abuse, and secondly, to quieten down the outrage. All this reflects something the authors of the research article suggest, which is that there are tacit social pressures not to talk about CSA openly, to not disturb things too much, to keep quiet – to minimise outrage.

However, in contrast to ‘neutralisation’ there is also a clear, explicit social encouragement for victims to speak out, to have a voice, to be listened to respectfully, to be taken seriously, to get justice, and make an impact on future responses and policies. This idea of victims ‘speaking out’ runs through all relevant reports and enquiries over the last decade. So, we have ‘Giving Victims a Voice’ – perhaps a rather condescending title, which was a report published in 2013 following the huge numbers of allegations against Jimmy Savile. Produced jointly by the NSPCC and the Metropolitan Police Service, it was described by the then Director of Public Prosecutions as marking a watershed moment highlighting various systemic failures and giving some victims serious recognition and a chance to speak out.

This May 2022, the Ministry for Justice published a consultation called ‘Delivering Justice for Victims’. The foreword by the Secretary of State for Justice, Dominic Raab (still in post at the time of writing), gives much emphasis to giving victims a louder voice; making sure their views are heard; supporting them in the search for justice, and strengthening transparency and enhanced scrutiny when victims are let down. Raab – who of course is himself under investigation for bullying – writes that no victim should ever feel like an afterthought, or peripheral to the process, disillusioned and, at worst, compound their ordeal. The cultural shift is one where victims’ voices are amplified alongside the strengthening of clear lines of oversight when things go wrong. This document may or may not come to anything, but the intention to emphasise the perspective of the victim is relevant when we consider the response of the C of E and the latest suggestions for re-working Learning Lessons Case Reviews. ‘Graham’ wrote about this in October when he commented on the draft review as a watering down – a dilution of what went before. So, given the spirit of the times, where is the amplification of victims’ voices – where the transparency, and oversight for when things go wrong. Far from amplification it seems there is a process of neutralising going on through the idea of the rather inward-looking reflective process, and limited time frame.

There is a paradox between national policies encouraging those who have been abused to speak out, at the same time as a reluctance to listen and hear what is being said. The Independent Learning Lessons Case Review on Revd Graham Gregory (GG) by Ray Galloway (February 2022)² reminds us both of the importance of really listening to victims and of the techniques of neutralisation that often hold sway. The report, which like others is a deeply upsetting read, gives us the attempts of victims to disclose – there were at least 10 known and 7 contributed to the review. Almost all disclosed at the time to their parents, and sadly of these nearly all were disbelieved. However, they did come forward as adults to speak out again –and their disclosures were poorly handled by the church.

Take the experience of one referred to as victim B, who, in 2006, attended a church Safeguarding event. Reading the course handbook caused a profound physical reaction which convinced her that she needed to report her abuser GG, and using the contact number in the handbook eventually got through to Southwark Diocese: ‘I said I’m ringing you because I don’t think I can go any further with my responsibilities at my church until I’ve actually laid to rest the ghosts of this past abuse that I’ve suffered’. Worried that GG might still be offending, victim B expected a positive response, but instead was advised that she should contact the diocese of York as GG was no longer in Southwark, and she was given the details for the archbishop. Intimidated about the proposal that she should call the archbishop herself she decided to leave it: ‘I thought, no, I can’t ring this man who I hear on Thought for the Day and see on Songs of Praise … I made that call, he told me to ring Sentamu … I did um and ah for about a week and I thought, no, I can’t do it.’

She had a better response in 2012 after Savile, when victim B phoned the NSPCC who with the police immediately acted which led to a successful criminal prosecution against GG. Her good support from the police was in sad contrast to the response of the church. The C of E sent a male pastoral support listener to the trial for both victims A and B, but as B says: ‘The impartiality of the police, or the NSPCC, was never in doubt, but how far, at that stage, has the Church of England still got one eye out for GG.’ Both victims wanted the Church to be demonstrating contrition, ‘nobody ever said sorry, until I wrote, a year after the man was convicted, to the archbishop and said … I’ve waited a year for you to reply to me.’ A personal apology was eventually given.  Irritated by the ‘cagey’ response of the church she had particular criticism for the process of gaining compensation: ‘Once you’ve had all this, you’ve gone through the court and the man’s gone to prison, you’ve gone over the awfulness so many times, blow me down, if they’re going to give you anything you have to go and say it all again to a psychiatrist, who’s desperately trying to find that you have no symptoms at all, nothing was wrong, and they can give you as little money as possible … it’s probably worse than the trial.’ On summarising her view of how the Church dealt with the issue of her abuse, victim B, whilst referring to the outcome of her abuse as being the ‘blighting of a childhood’, made a distinction between the actions of an individual DSA in Southwark and the organisation.

The report analyses the sadly familiar diocesan response of techniques of neutralisation to victim B’s disclosures – although she had kept notes of who she spoke to, and, what was said in 2006, it was stated that they had no record, or recollection of this: ‘The clear inference … is that it was not they with whom victim B had spoken, despite her having their name recorded’. The first relevant record in the diocese was made 8 years later, in 2014. Galloway states that the request for an apology lacks any real clarity in the diocesan records. The delay was put down to the bishop being abroad, the chaplain’s move to another role and an appeal from GG against his conviction. Nothing happened until victim B made her further complaint.

The report states: ‘Other than positive feedback for the DSA, when she had assumed management of the case after GG’s conviction, no examples of Good Practice were identified during the Review,’ and later referred to as ‘poor and unreasonable professional practice’. The initial telephone contact in 2006 was neither caring nor supportive. ‘The needs of the victim who reached out to the diocese were not identified nor appropriate records made. Harm had occurred to the person making contact yet that fact was not established … the advice provided, was wholly inappropriate. It not only served to inhibit the victim from disclosing the fact of her abuse, it also allowed the fact of the ongoing risk to children that GG represented to sustain.’

The report details the dreadful experiences of 7 young girls and the destructive responses of 5 dioceses (as GG moved around) including after the publication of ‘Giving Victims a Voice’ – victims were not listened to rather techniques of neutralisation were prominent – and included unkindness, lack of empathy and professionalism. For once I’m in support of Raab that the only way forward is to amplify not neutralise the voices of those who have been abused.

1. ‘They would rather not have known and me kept my mouth shut’: The role of neutralisation in responding to the disclosure of childhood sexual abuse, September 2022, Qualitative Social Work DOI: 10.1177/14733250221124300 Claire Cunnington and Tom Clark.

2. https://www.churchofengland.org/sites/default/files/2022-02/Independent%20learning%20lessons%20case%20review%20-%20Graham%20Gregory.pdf