For some reason, the fictional character of Violet Elizabeth Bott has inserted herself into my mind when I was considering the state of power dynamics within some parishes in Britain.  For those who have not been reared on the antics of the William books by Richmal Crompton, from the 40s and 50s, Violet was a subsidiary character who was kept firmly on the outside of the boy-only group of William Brown and his friends.  Although Violet was usually excluded from the male activities of the boy gang, she did possess one weapon which allowed her a small part in some of the escapades.  She had a mantra which she was able to use every time she sought inclusion into the male world.  She threatened the boys with the memorable words ‘I will scream and scream till I am sick. I can.’  The threat of being forced to listen to her screams produced a small amount of compromise on the part of the boys, but I cannot remember how this worked in practice as I no longer have any of these books.  No doubt an adult reading Violet’s words might well comment that this was the action of a woman without power trying to take power for herself when being denied any part in the world dominated by the boys. 

From thinking about Violet, I went on to recognise that there is another example of powerlessness using screaming in order to get noticed.  The classic supermarket tantrum is an experience that most parents have had to negotiate when their child is around 3 years of age and is wheeled round the local Sainsburys.  Watching his or her mother removing highly coloured packets and place them in a trolley is an action that looks rather fun, especially when the child sees that there are also aisles full of sweets and biscuits.    The classic supermarket tantrum begins when the child is wheeled quickly past the biscuit aisle without stopping and the small person makes their protest.  The battle that begins at this point is not only between the child and his/her mother, but it also rages inside the mother’s head.  Should she turn back and include the desired item, thus pacifying the child?  Alternatively, should she explain to the child how there are limits to the objects taken that form part of the weekly shop?

Supermarket tantrums and Violet’s attempted manipulations are both examples of attempts to exercise control by the use of emotion.  Sometimes the emotion is gentle or understated, like a smile aimed at persuading someone to agree with us in a meeting.  On other occasions the emotion demonstrated is disturbing or excessive, as in an outburst of anger or tears.   But, in each case, there is a fundamental common factor.   The expression of emotion is intended to make another person act in a particular way.  A smile may be a means of persuading us that being part of a majority view is much more comfortable than being on the outside.  Taking the opposite point of view to a leader who is skilled at emotional manipulation is, by contrast, highly awkward and uncomfortable.  Making a principled stand against a proposal in a meeting is far more difficult to follow through when we are expecting that the proposer will display a strong emotional reaction.  The sheer power of that reaction can be deeply traumatising as well as creating an atmosphere of real fear. Violet’s screams or the toddler’s meltdown in the supermarket are small fry compared with a key committee member not getting his/her own way.  Sometimes merely the threat of an emotional outburst is able to bring a disagreeing party to heel.  Even those not party to the divided decision can feel deeply shocked and wounded by the outburst.

There is nothing unusual in seeing strong emotions erupt in organisational life.  In most cases tempers and passions subside and peace is found through some sort of compromise.  The problem arises when an individual, possibly a leader or someone else in some sort of authority, becomes adept at the skills needed to manipulate and control a meeting or an entire organisation through the skilful use of what we are describing as ‘tantrum power’.  On the surface everything seems smooth but there is in the dynamic of the meeting a subtle threat that if things do not go in a certain way, there will be an emotional outburst of some kind.  Everyone wants to avoid a distressing ‘scene’ which is why tantrum power is so effective in an organisation.  It may be the Vicar who tells his PCC that no one is allowed to follow any path but the one he/she suggests.  To challenge his/her power will unleash anger on a massive scale.  Power, in other words, is being exercised by emotional blackmail and the threat of violent, even terrifying, volcanic eruptions.  If the congregation gets used to submitting to the threat of violent or frightening outbursts on the part of the one in charge, there will always be a miasma of genuine fear in that congregation.  This will stifle growth and real flourishing.  When the dynamic of surrender to the one who exercises tantrum power becomes stabilised, and an authoritarian peace is allowed to prevail in that congregation, things may appear to be peaceful and calm.  It may be difficult for an archdeacon or a bishop to get the measure of the true dynamics of that particular church as free exchange of opinion and the possibility of new ideas being explored have ceased to take place.  Everyone has got used to the faux stability of a church that follows a volatile narcissist in charge who cannot tolerate anyone else having ideas or opinions.

Over the years I have become privy to unfortunate dynamics in a number of parishes and congregations.  Many of them are victims of what I have described as tantrum power, the threat of unleashing fear-inducing outbursts by someone in the church.  It is of course not only vicars who exercise such power.  Prominent laypeople can hold entire congregations under their control by the same implied threat of violent outbursts of destructive anger.  Organists can be the centre of tantrum power, as can a churchwarden or Reader.  In a recent case of an unhappy congregation who were subject to the authoritarian whims of a Vicar and churchwarden, the fear miasma spread beyond the church itself.  Attempts by the local archdeacon to get the measure of the congregational unhappiness were stalled by the ability of the church leaders to intimidate these visiting senior clergy, by making it clear that those officially holding oversight had no power to change the dynamic of their church.  The semi-autonomous role of a Vicar has, in the last resort, a great deal of power to intimidate archdeacons and even bishops who try to intervene in parish disputes.  Many simply give up the struggle.  Tantrum power seems to win the day, and congregations are left to their long-lasting disruption and unhappiness.  The lay people in this case had researched the possibility of bringing in the police to intervene but having a fierce temper and the ability to spread slander is not against the law of the country.

Tantrum power, or emotional manipulation within a church congregation is a real cause of unhappiness in many places.  It also exists within families, committees and organisations of every kind.  Quite often it exists as a threat rather than as an actuality.  It is however something that needs to be identified and named so that it can be dealt with.  My experience of the Church of England suggests that far too many individuals live in a situation of genuine fear of emotional outbursts from some of the individuals they work with.  Unlike the business world where relationships are defined and there is normally a clear code of behaviour being enforced by HR officials, the Church has less ability to ensure that members behave in a consistently correct manner.  Without an enforceable code of conduct which can be policed, there are many situations in church life where things can go badly wrong.  At present, access to a just hearing when something goes badly awry, is a hit and miss affair and depends almost entirely on the diocese you happen to find yourself in.  Some dioceses have excellent fearless archdeacons and employ professional safeguarding personnel who take a pride in delivering a first-class service.  Other dioceses have safeguarding officials who need to be important and enjoy the trappings of authority and power.  Those who cross their path may be further humiliated and pushed down, finding their dignity battered and almost destroyed.

Safeguarding in the Church should be about making sure that power at every level is used responsibly and aimed at creating healthy flourishing spiritual institutions.  Protecting the weak and the vulnerable is only one part of the work.  A further task is to understand and critique the power structures of the church.  The power I have been discussing in this blog is different from most of the other forms which are built into the structure of the institution.  I have invited my reader to be alert to invisible power that exists in emotional manipulation, what I call tantrum power.  Tantrum power has the potential for harm in the Church as much as many other forms.  Its very invisibility makes it perhaps the most dangerous.