Monsters in Iwerne

No, I couldn't say nothing, could I?

When I was a boy, my parents would drive us several times a year in our ancient black Austin A6 to visit my grandparents who lived on the south coast.

Those days of course were before motorways and in-car entertainment. So my father would help the journey pass with the pub sign game, in which you take turns to spot the number of legs on the pub sign - thus the Red Lion in Sturminster Marshall would give you four, while the George at Norton St Philip with St George on his horse would give you six. However trumping them all was the Thousand Millipedes, which Dad assured us was down a side-road in Iwerne Minster. 

Iwerne Minster has hit the headlines recently as it was one of the locations where the serial child abuser John Smyth, QC and Church of England lay reader, used to operate in the 1970s and 80s - decades after our car journeys. Summer camps for public school boys were held in a prep school there. His other locations were near Winchester (where he established links with the famous public school), Zimbabwe and probably South Africa - until his death in 2018. His sadistic and perverted actions were first publically hinted at in an article in The Sunday Mail in 2012. But they were already known about to a limited number of Anglican churchmen as long ago as 1982. In 2017 the story broke on the Channel 4 News when Smyth himself was challenged by Kathy Newman about his activities. In 2021 Andrew Graystone published a full account of his extensive researches in the book, Bleeding for Jesus. 

In 2019 the Church of England's Archbishops' Council commissioned an independent review of the abuse and the involvement of what are termed "church officers". Five years later Keith Makin and Sarah Lawrence have produced their report. It is 263 pages long. It is exhaustive and not an easy read in either its content or its style. (It could have done with a bit more proof-reading.) Much to the media's glee, Archbishop Justin Welby, after a campaign of pressure, announced that he had tendered his resignation to the King. The hanging offence seems to have been that he had been "insufficiently curious" when informed of Mr Smyth's grotesquely sadistic activity in the late 70s and early 80s.

Holman Hunt, The Scapegoat (Liverpool Art Gallery)

I tend to agree with the author of the Sunday Mail article, Anne Adkins, on Newsnight, that the Archbishop is being treated as a scapegoat, since  we always want someone to blame, but the abuser himself is now dead and beyond the reach of human justice.

In my next post I shall explain more of my reasons. However for now I shall quote the comments of the Rev Dr Sam Wells, vicar of St Martin-in-the-Fields, in a letter to his church. They seem to me both judicious and helpful: 

"To be subject to profound and repeated physical abuse at a vulnerable age is among the worst things to befall anyone. Those who have had the courage to come forward and detail their experiences at the hands of a distorted individual over a period of decades must be at the very centre of the church’s care and concern.

"While the individual responsible was not an employee of the Church of England, and the channels through which he worked were not under the authority of the Church of England, it was nonetheless right that the Archbishop of Canterbury commissioned Keith Makin to investigate whether there was anything the church could have done to have prevented these terrible crimes and what lessons could be learned. After five years, the Makin Review has concluded that the church could have done much better, and has pointed the finger at certain individuals in particular. The central issue is that the information came to light in 2013, but between then and his death at his own hand in 2018, the perpetrator abused several dozen more people – and it’s not clear how this was permitted to happen.

"Over recent decades the church, along with many organisations, has undergone a radical reappraisal of its procedures around safeguarding children and adults at risk of harm. This has been a huge institutional culture change. The simple principles of vigilance, reporting and safeguarding being everyone’s responsibility have made the church a much safer place. One result of that is that failures stand out painfully; and failure in relation to a case as grievous as this is something neither church nor society is able to countenance. The church has failed many individuals whose lives have been impacted beyond description. It puts in question the significant progress that has been made. And it undermines the church’s credibility all over again.

"It is this that has led to the news today of the resignation of the Archbishop of Canterbury, as a result of the words in the Makin Report that suggest that he, along with others, could have acted differently – and that if they had, many could have been saved from an unspeakable experience of harm. Leadership can be lonely; in today’s culture, when there is a very great wrong, there is a corresponding tide of demand that a leader visibly pay the price for an institution’s failings. It is tragic that a primacy bringing such profound good in so many areas, conducted by a person of singular faith, courage, humility and integrity, should end like this. But it seems the Archbishop has concluded that the unheard pleas of survivors, the degree of institutional failure, and the fact that his own role in the case was not impeccable, have together made it impossible for him to continue. His dignity and selflessness are an example to all of us."

 
 

Thank God for human beings

We're all familiar with that irritating voice: "Your call is important to us. Please hold while we connect you." Or, "You are number 133 in the queue." It's irritating because we know that it's not a human voice but either a recording or one produced by AI. 

And so I was pleasantly surprised by my recent dealings with Apple - of computers, iPhones, watches etc. Since my earliest contact with computers, I have used Apple Macs for the simple reason that when I was thinking it was about time I caught up with the 20th century a kind parishioner called Sheila gave me a Macintosh Lisa (second-hand). She swore by them. In fact she was employed to troubleshoot them for a huge commercial concern. She assured me that it was very intuitive to use - and she was right. I now wish I'd kept that one, of course! They're quite valuable. But being shallow prey to fashion, I kept replacing it with the latest Apples, which never let me down. 

No. This is not an advertising pitch for the manufacturer! Despite its ubiquitous product placement on films (movies as they say in another place) and television, Microsoft still seems to dominate the commercial operating system market inexplicably but perhaps fortunately since Microsoft appears to me to attract hackers. 

In the end, I came unstuck. Despite my reputation for being highly computer-literate, I am in fact a rank amateur in all matters digital. My attempts to migrate my data from my present laptop (a MacBook Air) to a brand new version proved fruitless, not totally but partially. The trouble is I'm getting older and I'm wedded to my present format. Anyway, for the first time in my life, I resorted to Apple Support. First I used the online facility. However none of the suggested topics met my need. AI couldn't help me. Then I was guided to a person, but my problem was beyond their competence and so I was escalated upwards to a phone link, with help from Jane who interprets for me. This time we made progress. 

Still, I didn't have breakthrough. One feature of Apple Support is that you're provided with a case number, and so you don't have to regurgitate all the details you've already explained lower/earlier in the chain. In the end, a young human being, a man called Alaa spent most of his afternoon working on the final and only solution as it seemed to me, which was to stick with my present machine. Having come to this conclusion, the efficiency of sorting everything out was lightning fast. No doubt that process was considerably aided by AI, but the crucial element in the whole saga were the dialogues with various human beings who were universally tolerant - and humane. May they never be phased out.

On a much more significant level than my personal computer illiteracy, I have much enjoyed the bits of the Paris Paralympics that I've watched - from the joyful entrance of the athletes at the opening ceremony to the warmth of winners and losers at the end of events, all sharing in each other's achievements - the best of humanity.

It's not coming home

Well, it was definitely Spain's day on Sunday, wasn't it? with triumph at Wimbledon in the afternoon and in Berlin in the evening.

 

I must confess I don't miss all the hype and hysteria surrounding our poor footballers, trying to win 'the first trophy on foreign soil', as the media never tired of telling us. And I was quite grateful not to have been woken by celebrating drinkers pouring out of The Bay Tree in the late or early hours. 

Someone close to me observed that the excitement seemed a trifle excessive because it was 'only the European Cup'! I took their point, but then I'm old enough to remember the 1966 World Cup. Indeed I remember exactly where I was when the result came through, not in the UK in order to witness Kenneth Wolstenholme's famous commentary, 'They think it's all over.... It is now.' Is it possible today, I wonder, for anyone to score a hat-trick at international level? Because that's what we need - not just England, but generally. I heard Chris Sutton talking of 'the beautiful game' of which he said, in contrast to England, Spain was an exponent. The English team certainly has a handful of very skilful footballers, but they, in company with most highly paid male players, do not play beautifully. 

I have some suggestions to restore the beauty to the game:

• Get rid of VAR (Video assistant referee)! I've written about the difference that would make before: see here VAR. It makes for more grown-up sportmanship.

• Give yellow cards for shirt-tugging, tripping and diving;

• Red cards for dissent, i.e. disputing the referee's decisions, and for professional fouls, i.e. cynical fouls designed to prevent possible goals.

• And off the field more generally don't pay already wealthy players to don the national shirt. To have our teams appearing simply for the privilege of representing the nation, or even - dare I suggest? - for the love of their country, would prevent them being mercenaries but afford them a genuine reason for respect, and even possibly to merit, win or lose, the award of one of those absurdly coveted minor honours of imperial days. If that's not good enough for one of our 'star' players, too bad. No one is indispensable.

Talking of honours, it does seem to me that Gareth Southgate has been the best manager of the England team since Sir Alf Ramsey, who managed his team to World Cup victory in 1966. Whether or not he chooses to remain in post for another two years, he for one deserves recognition for his contribution to the game (and beyond) in this country. 

PS Sadly, I see that he has now resigned. Well, I suppose that like Jürgen Klopp he has been wise, having restored his team's fortunes, in taking a break from the almost unendurable pressure placed on managers by media and public alike. 

PPS How absurd for example for fans to spend tens of thousands of pounds, as I gather some did, to obtain a ticket to watch the match - and how wicked of touts to exploit such misplaced dedication!

A very wise woman

Well, as I promised myself in February ('ITV, please repeat Breathtaking'), I have now read Rachel Clarke's wonderful and moving book Dear Life. It is what its subtitle says, 'a doctor's story of love and loss'. As a hospital doctor, she chose to specialise in palliative care. As someone said, she's the kind of doctor we'd all want at our sides when we're dying. Her profession is truly put to the test when her dearly loved father, a local GP of the old school, who is her inspiration, is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her account is both heartbreaking and life-affirming. Significantly, she chooses to keep her counsel on the vexed subject of assisted dying - as does the subject of this piece, Dr Kathryn Mannix.

I first came across Dr Mannix, when she gave a very short talk on BBC Radio 4 in 2018. Her title was 'Dying is not as bad as you think'. It was a simple description of the normal process of dying - and it was not as bad I'd thought. If you've not heard it, it's certainly worth listening to. A few weeks ago she gave an interview to a Financial Times journalist, Emma Jacobs, in which she talked about herself, her books and about "ordinary dying". It's so much about the listening. Of course the journalist brings up the hot topic of assisted dying. I've previously commented on Esther Rantzen joining the advocates of legalising assisted suicide. She's since been joined by Keir Starmer, and most recently by Bake-Off judge, Prue Leith. Dr Mannix is more circumspect:

"Mannix fears for the texture of the debate. 'We can be opponents about an issue and agree with far more than we disagree about, but the point on which we disagree is so important to us . . . Increasingly [political debate] is about point-scoring.' It means that we fail to include nuanced conversations on palliative, social and healthcare. 'We’re not hearing any of that. We’re just having a ding-dong about where the law sits.'” She particularly fears for the sick and the elderly, who might have their peace of mind destroyed every day with the thought they are yet again being a burden to their family. (And I would add an unwanted expense to the state as well.) As her BBC talk taught me, dying is not as bad we are given to think. 

More recently she's given a very personal interview in the BBC Outlook programme:
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/w3ct4r4d. Listen to it! It's very reminiscent of Rachel Clarke's Dear Life. And it's magnificent.

"There’s something sad about the idea that the only way we can help [make] dying better is to be dead." Ordinary dying is even better. What wisdom!

An electoral dilemma

As my readers will have gathered, I have reservations concerning legalising assisted suicide. At the last general election, at our local hustings I asked the candidates their views. Rather uninterestingly, all four of them agreed with the idea that people should be able to choose the time of their death, when they were in terminal pain. 

😏😎😌🙊

That didn't help me decide, and so I voted with my old inclinations. However the urbane Conservative, David Johnstone, was comfortably elected. But if the same is true this time, I shall face a dilemma. In the wake of Esther Rantzen's comments, Sir Keir Starmer, who is likely to the next Prime Minister, declared that he would give some government time for a private members' bill to legalise assisted dying. And so I wrote to the leader of the opposition.

"Dear Sir Keir

"I had hoped to kick the Tories out of this true blue constituency and vote in a Labour candidate, as I believed was achievable.  I was at one time a member of the Labour Party when it espoused truly socialist values and policies.  However your latest pronouncement that you would make government time available for a private member’s bill and that you were yourself in favour of legalising assisted dying/suicide has been the final straw for me. 

"I clearly don’t know where our election candidates will stand on the issue, though I know our present MP’s views, but I view a change in the law dangerous, both from the precedence set in other jurisdictions and the pressures it would put on the vulnerable, and a betrayal of our past record of upholding the sanctity of life.  I know you won’t change your mind in an election year when polling (which depends on the framing of the question - for example ‘Would you prefer a Labour or a Conservative government?’) seems to indicate a majority of voters sharing your view. 

"So, anyway, regretfully, I’m writing to inform you that you have lost at least one vote here. 

"By the way I have Motor Neurone Disease.

"Yours sincerely..."

 

I wonder what the Reform UK Party's policy about it is...!

ITV, please repeat 'Breathtaking'

All photos ITV

Last night, we watched the final episode of Breathtaking, the three-part docudrama based on Dr Rachel Clarke's memoir of being a hospital doctor during the Covid pandemic. Joanne Froggatt gives a tour de force performance as Dr Abbey Henderson, an acute medicine consultant, from meeting the new coronavirus for the first time until the first roll-out of vaccines. Somehow she expresses the whole gamut of emotions mostly with a mask covering half her face and often with a visor as well.

There are very short counter bursts of complacent politicians (such as a Prime Minister announcing he wouldn't stop shaking people's hands, and a smiling Chancellor handing out dishes in a restaurant at the announcement of the "Eat out to help out" scheme) blandly pronouncing that everything is under control while we watch the continuing reality of the situation in the hospital wards. 

(The following paragraph has a number of plot spoilers, and so if you've not watched it you may wish to skip it, though the real thing is infinitely more powerful and moving.) This episode had many scenes which stick in my mind. For example, Ant, the registrar, pleading by phone with his vulnerable mother to stay at home until she can get the promised vaccine, and her regurgitating social media stories of the mythical disease, empty hospitals and dangerous vaccines; and later Abbey running the gauntlet of shouting and spitting Covid-deniers at the hospital doors on her home after an emotional and exhausting shift. Then there was the scene of Emma, a student doctor, whom Abbey finds crouching in emotional collapse and the two of them together silently sharing their intolerable grief. There's the scene of Abbey smoothing the brow of a dying terrified patient, and of her having to explain to the husband of a Covid patient with MS that if she deteriorates her preexisting conditions means she won't be moved to Intensive Care (on the assumption that her chances of recovery are compromised - thank God I was spared that, I thought). At other times we see her desperately and furiously arguing with the administrator and senior doctors hidebound by NHS and Government rules and guidelines, and later we witness her whistleblowing radio interview in which she reveals the real situation in hospital dealing with Covid and risks disclosing her name and job. 

What are my abiding reactions and conclusions? First it was one of gratitude to Rachel Clarke for writing her memories and for creating the drama with Jed Mercurio, and to ITV for broadcasting it. More it was of overwhelming gratitude to the doctors and nurses of the NHS in whose debt we were and remain. It was eye-opening to see the reality of life inside a hospital during a prolonged emergency - from the staff point of view. It was heart-breaking (yes, I did cry) to witness the stresses and the sacrifices made on doctors and nurses. Having watched all the episodes, I do wish that everyone, including MPs, would watch it and give our medics the honour and reward that they are due. I trust that ITV will broadcast it again - perhaps when the Covid Inquiry publishes its findings, or when it is next in the news. Lastly, I intend to read Breathtaking myself and Rachel Clarke's other books.

A clarification

I was upset today to find an email thanking me for "speaking out so clearly" "in the Christian institute’s weekly email". I don't remember speaking to them, I thought. And so I looked them up on line. I hadn't spoken to them. And if they had asked me to comment on the subject of assisted dying, I would probably have politely declined.

Why?

First of all, it is, I understand, basic journalistic courtesy to ask an individual before you name them in a story. And I wasn't approached. Secondly, examining the Christian Institute's website confirmed to me what I vaguely recalled, i.e. that it campaigns on certain issues with which I am not in sympathy and represents an extremely conservative type of Christianity which I no longer hold, if I ever did. For one example, it appears homophobic, which for me is the antithesis of the Christian good news - which this weekend we celebrate is for all people. I suspect that I could not in all conscience subscribe to all its tenets.

However I do acknowledge that I wrote a letter to the Guardian on the subject of assisted suicide and therefore put my views in the public domain, as they are also, of course, on my blog. So I can't complain, but simply dissociate my views from those of the Christian Institute - and hope that if they ever want to quote me again they are polite enough to contact me first.