Depending on what tickles your pickle, your private life may remain entirely your own business or become the subject of reports, consultations, working groups, theological statements, listening exercises, passive-aggressive area meetings, and debates about the future of Anglicanism itself.

Some things do not become harmless because they are loved, defended, protected, platformed, rehabilitated, or given another chance. Some vipers simply recover their strength, then bite the hand holding them. This is the part many institutions refuse to confront.

Jonathan Fletcher has now been found to have committed indecent assaults spanning decades. The court this week heard allegations involving humiliation, psychological domination, and abusive “discipline” presented within the language of spiritual mentoring. But the truly damning part is that this was not hidden abuse suddenly uncovered. This went on for years.

At what point does an “improvement plan” stop looking like progress and start looking like an admission that the system itself has been profoundly dysfunctional for years?

When a leader associated with safeguarding failures steps into a role centred on restoration, the question is simple. On what basis?

Safeguarding within church contexts has, rightly, focused on protecting children and vulnerable adults, often where clergy or church officers have been the source of harm. But this has created a fundamental blind spot. There is far less recognition or confidence when harm flows in the opposite direction, from congregant to clergy.

If you haven’t yet watched Power: The Downfall of Huw Edwards , be prepared: it is difficult viewing. But it is important viewing, not simply because of the subject matter, but because of what it reveals about trust, and how easily that trust can be misplaced. Huw Edwards was not just a public figure; he was a trusted presence in the homes of millions. For years, his calm, measured, and mellifluous delivery offered reassurance during moments of national significance and colle