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Beyond Compliance: Why the Church's Next Safeguarding Challenge Is Culture






Introducing This Guest Blog:


Fr Robert Thompson, Vicar of St Mary's with All Souls', Kilburn, and St James's and the Sherriff Centre, West Hampstead, and a member of General Synod, explores why the Church's next safeguarding challenge is not compliance, but culture. A thoughtful reflection on accountability, trust, and creating churches where people feel safe to speak.







The conviction of Jeffrey Donaldson has prompted understandable reflection across Ireland. Public attention has focused on the suffering of victims, the criminal justice process and the wider political implications. Yet among the many responses to the case, one stood out because it moved the conversation in a different direction. Claire Hanna, leader of the Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) and Member of Parliament for Belfast South and Mid Down, made two observations which, taken together, offer a remarkably insightful framework for thinking about safeguarding.


The first was unequivocal: "Nobody is off limits when they commit awful crimes, regardless of privilege or status." The second looked beyond the immediate case: "No child should be left without the knowledge or words to ask for help." Those two statements speak to different moments in the safeguarding journey. One concerns justice after abuse has been disclosed; the other concerns creating the conditions in which disclosure becomes possible in the first place. Together they capture something that churches, schools and many other institutions are still learning: safeguarding is not simply about compliance. It is about culture.


Over recent years safeguarding has understandably concentrated on structures. Policies have been written, training has become mandatory, safer recruitment has been strengthened, reporting procedures have been clarified and independent audits have been commissioned. These developments matter enormously. They represent hard-won progress, often achieved because survivors insisted that institutions could no longer rely on good intentions alone. Yet there is a danger that institutions begin to mistake compliance for safeguarding itself.


Compliance asks important questions. Has everyone completed their training? Are DBS checks up to date? Have safeguarding policies been reviewed? Has the parish completed its safeguarding dashboard? Every one of these questions matters. But they do not answer the deeper questions. Would a frightened child know they could ask for help here? Would a survivor expect to be believed? Would a volunteer feel able to challenge unsafe practice? Would a churchwarden question the behaviour of a respected priest? Would concerns about a bishop be welcomed as an opportunity for accountability rather than quietly managed as a reputational problem? Those are not questions that can be answered by a spreadsheet or dashboard. They are questions about culture.


One of the most significant conclusions of the recent INEQE audit of the Diocese of London was precisely this distinction. The audit recognised substantial progress in safeguarding structures, governance and compliance while also identifying the continuing need for cultural change. That should not be read as diminishing the importance of compliance. Rather, it reminds us that compliance is the foundation, not the destination. Policies can require behaviour, training can communicate procedures and audits can identify weaknesses. None of these, by themselves, creates trust, humility or the confidence that truth will be welcomed rather than feared.


As Bishop of London, Sarah Mullally oversaw significant work to strengthen safeguarding systems and governance. The INEQE audit recognised those achievements while also pointing towards the need for deeper cultural change. Now, as Archbishop of Canterbury, she has an opportunity to lead the Church of England into the next stage of its safeguarding journey. The challenge is not to abandon compliance but to ensure that compliance becomes the servant of culture rather than its substitute.


Growing up in Northern Ireland, I learned how deeply institutions shape communities. Churches, schools, political parties and voluntary organisations were places of identity, belonging and trust. They carried communities through years of division and uncertainty and did immense good. Yet Ireland has also learned, painfully, that institutions built upon trust can unintentionally become places where speaking uncomfortable truths feels almost impossible. Wherever authority becomes difficult to question, wherever reputation takes precedence over truth and wherever people fear the consequences of speaking out, safeguarding becomes weaker.


That is why Claire Hanna's two observations are so important. The first challenges cultures of deference: nobody is beyond accountability. The second challenges cultures of silence: every child deserves the language and confidence to ask for help. Together they remind us that safeguarding is not measured simply by what happens after abuse has been disclosed. It is measured by whether we have created communities in which disclosure is possible before years of silence have passed.


For Christians, this is more than an organisational challenge; it is an ecclesiological one. The question is not simply whether our safeguarding systems comply with national guidance. The question is whether our churches embody the kind of community revealed in the Gospel. Jesus consistently placed those with the least power at the centre. He listened to voices others ignored and challenged religious authority whenever it became self-protective rather than life-giving.


A church may satisfy every safeguarding requirement and still remain a place where survivors feel unable to speak. Equally, a church that nurtures humility, transparency, accountability and truth will almost certainly meet safeguarding standards—not because compliance has become unimportant, but because safeguarding has become part of its identity. The Church's next safeguarding challenge is not choosing between compliance and culture. It is ensuring that compliance serves culture rather than becoming its substitute. Justice matters. Accountability matters. Independent scrutiny matters. But so do trust, voice, humility and the courage to tell the truth. As Claire Hanna's response reminds us, safeguarding begins with two simple convictions: nobody is beyond accountability, and no child should ever be left without the words to ask for help.


~Fr Robert Thompson




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