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.