Why the CofE and other big institutions still fail to protect children from abuse

Jane Chevous, a writer and campaigner, was sexually abused by two Church of England priests over a ten-year period. It began when she was a young adult and only stopped when she moved away. She went on to have a mental breakdown. This was not only because of the abuse, she says, but also the result of a lack of the support from the church that she trusted.

Her religion added a layer of complexity to what happened, she explains. She was groomed by someone who she believed was doing God’s work. “You are told this is God’s calling and this is what he wants,” she says.

In 2001, ten years after the abuse ended, she reported it to two bishops. “It was absolutely terrifying. I found it hard to hold any hope that I would be believed.”

One bishop suggested she meet her abuser to try to sort it out “because that is the Christian thing to do”. The other, she says, told her to go to the police because he couldn’t do anything. Afterwards her mental health deteriorated.

In 2019, she reported it again. This time there was a police investigation, during which time one of her alleged abusers died. She says the police concluded there was not enough evidence to take the case further. She is among a number of survivors who have asked the church to review their cases.

In the wake of the report into the abuse by John Smyth, the church has said that it and its associated organisations must implement “robust safeguarding procedures …that are governed independently.” It also said “there is never a place for covering up abuse.”

Jane has since co-founded a support and research group called Survivors Voices, set up to ensure that survivors are listened to. She says that in many institutions there may be people trying to do the right thing, but too often there is a failure to listen to and protect vulnerable people.

She has also been appointed to the Church of England National Safeguarding Panel. “The church has struggled to choose survivors," she says, "instead it has chosen to protect the institution."

This, she argues, is similar to other areas. “You are sacrificed for the good of the wider community.”

Joanna Nicolas, an independent social worker, has her own take on this. She has spent more than 30 years in child protection and adult safeguarding, and believes that people’s readiness to forgive or explain away what happened is one of the main reasons that abuse “gets swept under the carpet”.

Over the years she has worked with schools, churches, financial organisations, Parliament, as well as theatres, including the Old Vic. She is also called in to assess people in positions of trust in schools and churches when an allegation of historic abuse - whether sexual or emotional - has been made, including cases where there hasn’t been enough evidence to lead to police charges.

“People will often say to me ‘he is such a good egg’ and they will want to give me character references,” she explains.

Part of her role is to weigh up whether or not the person accused is safe to continue in their role.

“You have to be black-and-white about child abuse,” she continues. “I say to the alleged perpetrator, ‘It doesn’t matter if you have done 50 brilliant things, if you have abused a child’.

“You always go in with an open mind,” she adds. “And in emotional abuse cases, sometimes a teacher, for instance, is not aware of the power they have.”

Understanding and unpicking power structures is key to combatting sexual abuse and the secrecy that allows it to thrive, argues Tom Squire. “That means swimming against that power dynamic.”

If concerns aren’t acted on with "diligence and robustness,” that could, in his view, "potentially be interpreted by abusers as a bit of a green light”.

Overall, he believes that child protection has improved over the years but there is no room for complacency. “We need to open our eyes and our ears to what children and young people are telling us and to be curious.”

Joanna Nicolas agrees there have been improvements, pointing to boarding schools, which she believes have generally created more open cultures to keep pupils safe. But she also observes that many organisations have a long way to go - in tackling bullying and emotional abuse too.

One priority is ensuring that staff feel safer and able to report bad behaviour. “If you are in a big arts organisation or theatre and you have a visiting star who is being vile to young people, is anyone going to stop them?” she says.

“They are the person with the power who brings in the money.”

Speaking about this conundrum, she recalls “a lightbulb moment” at a financial company she worked with. One of the bosses had told her about a senior staff member who brought in lots of money, but was described as “handsy”. “Rather than addressing it, young female employees were warned away from him,” she recalls.

Only when a senior leader at the company found himself again telling young staff to avoid the man, did he suddenly think, “What am I saying? What am I doing?”

They decided things had to stop. The man left and the company culture began changing.

“Culture is incredibly important,” says Christian McMullen, director of professional services at the NSPCC. One of the difficulties for large organisations, he has found, is that “they have their own social structures or social norms which can have an impact when they need to take action”.

Contrary to the idea that a large company will have greater resources to tackle abuse, he says that its bureaucracy can sometimes get in the way, slowing down decision-making and making it harder to know who is accountable. But change starts at the top.

“The senior leadership team sets the right culture," says Mr McMullen. "If staff don’t feel supported then they may hesitate to make a safeguarding referral.”

That hesitation can also mean children aren’t listened to. “It is so easy to blame the child,” says 19-year-old Poppy.

She was 11 when she found the words to tell her mother that she had been abused by her grandfather. Her parents believed her and eventually her grandfather was convicted and jailed.

She has spoken out about what happened in the hope that this would remove some of the stigma that prevents children asking for help. But many abuse survivors she has spoken to told her they weren’t believed.

“When you tell someone, you need to feel believed. It changes everything,” she says today. “[But] I’m the exception. And the impact on people who aren’t believed is huge.”

Along with her mother Miranda, Poppy has been working with the NSPCC on a campaign to change the law so there is a mandatory duty for those working or volunteering with children to report it if they are told that a child is being abused.

At present there is no such law. It was one of the recommendations made in the final report of the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse, which was published in October 2022.

In his evidence to the inquiry, Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who resigned over the church response to the Smyth report, said he was “convinced that we need to move to mandatory reporting”.

It is argued that this removes any doubt about what to do if a concern is raised about the safety of a child.

Miranda understands how reporting abuse can “turn lives upside down” and why people may find it easier to ignore what they are being told. But she insists: “we’ve got to stop kidding ourselves and pretending abuse doesn’t happen.”

For Poppy there is a straightforward calculation: “If we are not reporting abuse as a society, we are actively supporting it.

“It causes damage down the generations and if we don’t stop it now, it will keep going.”