A Seat at the Table, Provided You Know Your Place
Class, Power and Safeguarding in the Church of England
During my time working for the Diocese of London, a member of clergy told me I had a "working-class chip on my shoulder."
Not a concern about my professional judgement, my qualifications or the quality of my safeguarding advice. A comment about my class.
The irony was quite extraordinary. Here was a member of clergy, representing an institution that preaches equality and the dignity of every human being, casually dismissing someone by reference to their working-class background.
I couldn't have illustrated the Church of England's class problem better if I'd tried.
Apparently, being working class is perfectly acceptable, provided you don't have the audacity to notice when someone is looking down on you. And God forbid you should challenge them.
Some clergy spend so much time looking down their noses at others, you wonder how they ever manage to look up at God.
It's safe to say that being straightforward was not always appreciated by senior leaders either. Having a professional disagreement can quickly be reframed as aggression. Challenging a decision becomes insubordination. Asking the right questions becomes a capability issue. Suddenly, the problem isn't what you've raised, but how you've raised it.
I have often wondered whether the same professional challenge would have been received differently if my vowels had been a little smoother, my accent a little less Northern, and I'd learned to sound terribly agreeable while asking awkward questions. Unfortunately, my vowels are as short as my patience for bullshit.
The Church of England has a class problem. Not necessarily the obvious, old-fashioned kind, but something quieter and more insidious. An institution that preaches equality while practising deference, where the right accent, connections and understanding of unwritten social rules can carry considerable weight.
The Church is often very comfortable with working-class people, provided they are on the receiving end of its generosity. Food banks and other charitable work are invaluable, but invite a working-class professional to the decision-making table, particularly one who questions authority, and the welcome can become rather less enthusiastic.
It's easier to give working-class people a food parcel than a seat at the table.
There is something deeply uncomfortable about an institution that serves disadvantaged communities while sometimes struggling to accept people from those same backgrounds as professional equals. You are welcome at the table, provided you remain suitably grateful and remember who holds the authority.
In safeguarding, this is particularly dangerous. Professional curiosity and constructive challenge are essential, yet institutional power can protect itself through the language of professionalism, behaviour and tone. The person asking uncomfortable questions becomes the problem, while the substance of those questions quietly disappears.
It's a rather sophisticated way of putting a muzzle on someone while insisting you're giving them a voice.
Safeguarding requires independent judgement, professional curiosity and the freedom to challenge authority. Yet the Church speaks endlessly about accountability while appearing rather uncomfortable when its own leadership is challenged.
Apparently, speaking truth to power is admirable until power happens to be sitting across the table.
Class is about more than income or education. It is about whose voice carries authority and who is expected to know their place. I have met extraordinary clergy who welcome challenge, but others seem to confuse respect with obedience and professionalism with keeping your mouth shut.
Perhaps someone ought to remind the Church that Jesus was a carpenter from Nazareth, not an Old Etonian with the right connections and a Freemasons' handshake. He overturned tables when he saw hypocrisy. He didn't ask permission.
A Church that would rather muzzle those who challenge authority than confront those who abuse it has no business lecturing anyone about courage, integrity or Christian values.
Because the problem was never the working-class chip on my shoulder.
It was the staggering sense of entitlement sitting on theirs, and the arrogance to mistake it for moral authority.
~Michelle Burns
Guarding the Flock
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