Collective Complacency – unpacking the Inaction

by Fiona Gardner

‘The tragedy of life is often not in our failure, but rather in our complacency; not in our doing too much, but rather in our doing too little; not in our living above our ability, but rather in our living below our capacities.’

This quote from the African American minister Benjamin E. Mays seems sadly apt given the church’s response to knowing for decades about John Smyth’s abuses. It takes a while even to begin to digest the Makin Report – the immense and on-going suffering of those groomed and abused by Smyth, and then the response, or rather lack of response, from those who knew about what was going on: the response was a denial of awareness, a sadly familiar pattern of behaviour (see ‘Sex, Power, Control’ for too many other examples). By 2012/13 the reviewers note that although safeguarding concerns were widely recognised in all organizations, it was not so in the church:

14.3.35 We have demonstrated that this was far from the case, with serious abuse and crimes being covered up at the time. This complacency continues ….

It’s been suggested that one response to hearing about something that disturbs us, is to default to complacency: it’s an easier option that taking action – nothing to see here. One definition is that complacency is: “a feeling of self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by a lack of awareness of actual pending trouble, deficiencies or controversy.” The self-satisfaction includes being pleased with one’s position in life, one’s merits and situation, and so lacking awareness of any defects. Research describing why people get complacent and demotivated at work, suggests that among other things, this generally results from the intransigency of the organizational culture, implacability of the work climate, the inflexibility of supervision and management. One suggestion in unpacking the inaction is that those hearing about Smyth’s abuses defaulted to complacency, partly because of the organizational culture of protecting ‘reputation’; the rigid hierarchy, and, the power of a particular theology. This all contributed to “confirmation bias”, one of the helpful ideas put forward in the Makin Report which causes a person, or a group, to interpret what is going on, or only look for further information which confirms their currently held belief. And “confirmation bias” leads to complacency.

The Makin Report is divided into sections linked to chronology. In each section, the reviewers state how the abuses were known about, and how no action was taken – other than to ‘cover-up’. From time period 1982-May 1984 the intransigency of the organizational culture is clearly revealed:

12.1.2 For this period … a significant number of ordained Church of England Clergy knew of the abuse between March 1982 and July 1984, some may well have known or suspected it even earlier than 1982 although information confirming this is not available. One of these was very senior, a Bishop, and several others were well known influential leaders within Iwerne networks and the wider Conservative Evangelical world … powerful and influential leaders in Evangelism were also aware of the abuse.

12.1.6 … a sufficiently large number of prominent people within the Church did know of it.  Significant enough to say that the Church of England “knew” in the most general sense, of the abuse.

And

12.1.10 (l) All decision-making during this period regarding investigating and responding to the abuse was ‘managed’ by a group of men that included ordained Clergy and prominent Evangelicals.

The intransigency and ‘group think’ collective complacency was stronger than any sense of criminal activity:

12.1.10 (m) We must reach the conclusion that this constituted a cover-up of the abuse by those few individuals who were told at the time. This interpretation of what occurred has been questioned by many, but our firm conclusion is that a serious crime was covered up.

Complacency generates many negative outcomes which may be injurious not only to an organization, but to individuals in it. So together with ‘managing’ the knowing about the abuse went a complete disregard for the well-being of the victims, the ‘self-satisfaction’ did not extend to thinking about those outside the collective ‘group think’.

12.1. 10 (i) There was little support offered to the victims. Indeed, there is evidence of Mark Ruston being critical of some victims when questioning them. There is also evidence of what amounts to “victim blaming” in some of the correspondence.

And: (n) There is no reference to the welfare of the victims at the important meeting at the Carlton Club, where decisions were made as to how to proceed.

The general lack of concern for those who had experienced the abuse went alongside a lack of concern for the acceptance of what had happened, and the risks involved in ignoring this. The reputation of the institution, and the refusal to take on the ‘one of us’ aberrant perpetrator Smyth contributed to the inaction.

In the business model, a culture of complacency is seen as something that develops over time, and that is reinforced by each risk taken in order to meet some short-term need, without experiencing an adverse effect. This means that behaviour that deviates begins to be normalised, so that the continual inaction and lack of responses to allegations about Smyth’s behaviour became the norm. This is despite increased awareness of safeguarding. Whilst complacency is not in itself criminal, it can allow such criminal behaviour as that perpetrated by Smyth to exist. Complacency is deeply troubling as it works quietly – often a subtle drift beyond inaction into what might be called ‘evil’. For the C of E, the on-going complacency around the lack of action following allegations led to a false belief that somehow the right thing was being done – when it wasn’t.    

Moving to Smyth’s time in Africa:

13.1.1 (h)‘Throughout this period, that before and after, there was a moral duty to act on knowledge of abuse and as argued previously, a duty to report crime. John Smyth was able to abuse boys and young men in Zimbabwe (and possibly South Africa) because of inaction of Clergy within the Church of England.’

And in connection with the postcard sent and acknowledging wrong doings 13.1.30-13.1.32:

13.1.32 This is one of the clearest demonstrations of the Church Officers … that suggest potential collusion with him [Smyth] rather than prevention of further abuse by him.

13.1.139 There is no evidence that any proactive attempts were made to alert authorities in Zimbabwe by Church of England officers… By the time any attempts were made to warn those in Africa, John Smyth had already begun to abuse boys and young men. The starkest fact is that the UK abuses should have been pursued further, reported to the UK police and pursued by them. David Fletcher and others were still continuing to cover-up and to draw a veil over the abuses they knew about in detail from the late 1970s until 1982… David Fletcher and others, deliberately and knowingly, stood in the way of that investigation.

With the time period of 2012-2016, the complacent attitude and inaction seems increasingly astonishing, if not impossible to understand. At the highest level, and among a wide grouping of church officials the abuses were known about.  

14.1.1.(d) There was a distinct lack of curiosity shown by these senior figures and a tendency towards minimisation of the matter …

15.1.24 Victims’ expectations … were that Justin Welby had committed himself, and the Church to meaningful engagement with victims and to investigating the alleged abuses and to supporting them, but as time went on, victims’ frustrations and anger grew as these promises were not kept nor acted upon.

The patronising and neglectful attitude to the victims, let alone an in any way a trauma-informed response, is noted several times by the reviewers, and that the protection of the Iwerne name and evangelicalism generally was repeatedly put to the fore at the expense of helping victims and preventing more abuses. So how can this level of complacency possibly make sense? At the level of faith and belief is it that the particular theology advocated by Smyth and his cronies somehow minimised and then even ‘justified’ the punishment beatings? Hard to think that … but it seems that allowances were endlessly being made for the perpetrator’s behaviour, a perpetrator who some strongly believed was bringing boys to Christ. The very details of the on-going funding of Smyth confirms this. Could those knowing about the abuses really prioritise their particular take on evangelical theology over the well-being of children?

Could a strange blend of a particular brand of evangelical theology plus personal experiences of corporal punishment perhaps from boarding school days lead to the destructive entitlement syndrome? “It didn’t do me any harm” group think, that so distorts morality and compassion. Different research studies suggest that if you are exposed to and encourage a punitive mentality, then this provides an internalized support for systems of punishment against others and sometimes against yourself. Punishment is said to be a central theme in much evangelical theology, where US research shows that evangelicals sincerely believe punishment works, and the data shows they are favourable to the harshest forms of punishment which are socially acceptable in any given situation.

Benjamin E. Mays whose words I used at the start of this piece was a minister in the US, a civil rights activist, mentor to Martin Luther King amongst others, and President of Morehouse College for black male students in Georgia. His beliefs were the very opposite of complacency: he believed that social action could be built on integrity and respect, that right could overcome wrong, that stereotypes could be broken through, and that each person needed to take responsibility for their actions to make the world better. He believed: ‘And there was light’.

The dingy accounts of the sad sequence of cover up, denial, and deception in the Makin Report that continue on through decades, and are painstakingly recounted in over 250 heart-breaking pages rather suggest the opposite.

About Stephen Parsons

Stephen is a retired Anglican priest living at present in Cumbria. He has taken a special interest in the issues around health and healing in the Church but also when the Church is a place of harm and abuse. He has published books on both these issues and is at present particularly interested in understanding how power works at every level in the Church. He is always interested in making contact with others who are concerned with these issues.

7 thoughts on “Collective Complacency – unpacking the Inaction

  1. A key barrier to change is the diffuse “structure” of the Church of England. When Welby resigned, was the Church in disarray without a leader to turn to? Not a bit of it. Sure a few heads have dipped further below parapets, but it’s business as usual. There’s the usual handwringing and “we must do better”. No change.

    Without being able to fulfill his infamous diary, will all those so important things not get done? No York will do them. But who will do York’s work? Well I guess the various appearances will be spread around the network.

    The Church is a very loose association of thousands of charities doing variously good or not much depending upon where you are. They’re autonomous. Unaccountable. Attendee beware.

    No one is leading the Church.

    In business, organisations are structured like this when the directors wish to limit liability and ring fence losses. Spread your operations around numerous companies and, if your accountants and lawyers are doing their jobs properly, only each individual company can be lost/bankrupted. In the event of a company failing, the others just keep on going.

    People are suggesting the Charities Commission should take control of the mess. Which charity would you like to start with? The CC is far too small to tackle this, and staff on salaries with mortgages to pay, individually far too vulnerable to speak truth to power.

    An Act of Parliament might make a difference, but we’re a long way from this despite our atheist PM.

    What we certainly can do, is warn people off dodgy clergy, and fast track misdemeanours to public media. This is the only thing to have forced change so far, other than one or two brave insiders, notably women, blowing the whistle on the others.

    There is currently no mechanism to change the Church from within.

  2. The people in the pews have to protest. The autocratic dictatorship needs to be broken up so we can have a democracy so we can all have say. Priviledge , elitism, hierarchy and entitlement need to go.

    1. Spot on! Stuff synods and more committees. One way to vote is to remain a member, but to minimise or cease £ contribution for a time as a protest. Many years ago, I used to listen to older rural church members whinge about lack of transparency with the diocese. My instinct to pass it off as irrational bleating by older people was wrong. The lack of rationality or accountability has multiple adverse consequences. The NT writers liked proof and evidence: ‘After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive’. We should aim to follow their example!

  3. LOL [Lawlessness-Omerta-Lackey] largely summarises Anglican bullying cover ups for me.

    1. Lawlessness-Remove the principle of natural justice (2 Cor 13:1) and “anything goes”.

    2) Omertà-cliques of evangelical leaders and abusers have ignored national law, Church rules and natural justice.

    3) Lackey-Junior clergy and laity-bystanders (but not innocent ones)-have failed to point a finger and blow the whistle so that bullying has been hidden in plain sight.

    This article above looks at point 3 which is often missed. The penultimate page of Makin has a really important note on giving whistleblowers a fair hearing.

  4. Thank you Steve for your comment that opened my eyes and I saw a huge melee of people in turmoil. Abusers, survivors, guilty and not guilty. But there is healing and genuine prayer within and without the Church . And of course Surviving Church blog.

    1. Indeed! Investments, vestments and Bo-Peep stick stuff has had its day. A leaner and more rational Anglicanism would be a welcome development. We can all accelerate this by trimming (or for a time stopping) yearly church contributions. The ‘signs and wonders’ obsession has temporarily put the rational case for belief in the shadows. An elderly canon taught us the three C’s at Primary school: Creation-Conscience-Christ. Odd how biblical principles of fair play are spectacularly absent in the Church! The absence of reason underlies church collapse and bullying cover ups.

  5. I think you underestimate the horrors that would have been visited on the survivors if anyone had gone to the police in the Eighties. Those were the years of the Aids panic, of Section 28, and the Higton amendment. The case would have been treated like Operation Spanner — a matter of consensual homosexual sadomasochism.

    A conviction was not guaranteed. I watched some of the Jeffrey Archer trial and all of Brandon Jackson’s from inside the courtroom. I heard their victims’ testimony and was wholly convinced, but both men got off because the judges wanted to defend respectable defendants. Who can say that would not have happened with Smyth?. Even an acquittal would have finished Smyth off — that’s true. But if the victims now find contact with Anglican bureaucracy retraumatising, how would they describe hostile cross examination in a public criminal trial?

    I still think the attempt should have been made once Smyth moved his operations to Zimbabwe, if a British police force could be found that would arrest him on one of his visits to this country. But the choices are not as clear cut as Makin makes them seem.

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