Persistent. Vexatious. Or Simply Uncomfortable?

Author’s note:

This blog reflects on themes raised in Martin Sewell’s recent commentary, published on Surviving Church, about the experience of victim-survivors and the institutional response to persistent or ongoing safeguarding concerns within the Church of England. His reflections raise difficult and necessary questions about accountability, whistleblowing, and safeguarding culture.

The reflections that follow draw on my own experience of working within the Diocese of London and build on earlier posts on the Guarding the Flock blog exploring gaslighting, institutional culture, and what can happen when safeguarding leadership gives way to reputation management — or when leadership itself goes missing, or refuses to see.

 

When Safeguarding Becomes Containment

Reading Sewell’s account of “Survivor N” will feel painfully familiar to anyone who has had to navigate the Church of England’s safeguarding structures. Whether as a victim-survivor, a member of staff involved in safeguarding case management, HR disputes or clergy drawn from safeguarding processes into the machinery of the Clergy Discipline Measure.

I am not commenting on the particulars of individual safeguarding cases, but on the patterns that emerge within the systems and processes themselves. For those who have encountered the system from the inside, the pattern is painfully recognisable.

Concerns are raised.

Credibility is questioned.

Persistence is reframed as disruption.

And the focus quietly shifts from the safeguarding issue itself to the person who refuses to let it disappear.

In these moments safeguarding begins to look less like protection and more like containment.

Persistence Becomes the Problem

Safeguarding within the Church is often presented as a moral commitment: protecting the vulnerable and pursuing truth wherever it leads. Yet that commitment can falter when safeguarding concerns begin to intersect with hierarchy, reputation and power.

At that point the safeguarding issue itself becomes secondary.

The priority becomes protecting the institution.

Sewell’s reflections highlight how easily persistence can be reframed as problematic behaviour. Persistence disrupts narratives. It forces institutions to revisit decisions they would prefer to consider settled.

Yet persistence is often the very reason institutional failures eventually come to light. Without persistence there would have been no exposure of the Post Office Horizon scandal. Without persistence many abuse inquiries would never have begun.

When persistence is labelled vexatious, something within the system has already begun to fail.

Because persistence is rarely the threat.

It is usually the warning.

Gaslighting: The Slow Erasure of a Person

One of the most corrosive dynamics that can emerge in these circumstances is what is often described as gaslighting. This rarely involves outright denial. Within safeguarding contexts, this dynamic can be particularly damaging, because credibility is often the very currency on which protection depends.

Instead, it works through the gradual erosion of credibility. Concerns are minimised, recollections are questioned, and professional challenges are reframed as evidence of instability or dysfunction.

Over time the safeguarding issue disappears. The conversation shifts from what happened, to why this person keeps raising it.

Those who challenge diocesan structures, safeguarding practices, or leadership decisions often find themselves recast as “difficult,” “uncooperative,” or “unbalanced” when they attempt to expose or challenge institutional failure. Once that narrative takes hold, the institution no longer needs to confront the safeguarding concern. It only needs to manage the person raising it.

When Accountability Becomes Conveniently Unclear

Questions of accountability matter most when institutions are forced to explain how decisions were made. My own experience within the Diocese of London illustrated how institutional accountability can become obscured.

During negotiations surrounding my settlement agreement, proposals were advanced that appeared to position Sarah Mullally as a separate employer within the agreement. For those familiar with diocesan structures, this was unusual and raised serious questions about accountability. The proposal was sufficiently unusual that ACAS themselves queried it during the negotiations, highlighting the lack of clarity about where responsibility ultimately lay.

By that stage it was widely understood within church circles that she was likely to become the future Archbishop of Canterbury.

When responsibility becomes difficult to locate, it is reasonable to ask who that lack of clarity ultimately serves.

Managing the Narrative

These dynamics rarely occur in isolation. They often sit alongside communications strategies designed to manage institutional reputation rather than confront institutional failure. I have previously written about the role of communications consultancy Luther Pendragon in shaping public responses to safeguarding controversies within the Church, particularly in London.

Is the institution trying to understand what went wrong? Or is it trying to control how the story is told?

For survivors and whistleblowers alike, that distinction matters.

Discernment and Leadership

All of this raises a deeper question about discernment in senior church appointments.

The example of Paula Vennells is revealing. Before becoming widely associated with the Post Office Horizon scandal, she held prominent roles within church structures and was reportedly shortlisted for the role of Bishop of London before the appointment of Sarah Mullally.

That fact alone raises uncomfortable questions about discernment.

The Church speaks often about discernment when appointing those entrusted with spiritual authority and institutional leadership. Yet the credibility of that discernment inevitably comes under scrutiny when individuals later associated with profound institutional failures have previously been considered suitable for the Church’s most senior office.

If safeguarding leadership is to command public confidence, the Church must be willing to examine not only safeguarding processes, but also the processes by which its leaders are chosen.

Because when discernment fails at the point of leadership appointment, safeguarding systems may already be compromised long before the first safeguarding concern is raised.

Listening? Or Just Pretending To

The Church of England frequently speaks about listening to survivors.

But listening requires more than carefully worded statements. It requires institutions to examine the structures that repeatedly produce the same outcomes: whistleblowers marginalised, survivors exhausted and institutional credibility steadily eroded.

Sewell’s article shows how easily persistence can be reframed as disruption. But persistence is often the only reason truth survives institutional pressure.

The Church of England now faces a choice: treat persistent voices as reputational risks — or recognise them as the people who refuse to let safeguarding failures disappear.

Concerns will be raised.

Credibility will be questioned.

Persistence will be reframed as disruption.

And the institution will move on.

The real crisis in church safeguarding was never the victim-survivors or the whistleblowers — it was the culture that tried to silence them.

Cultures do not change through statements alone. They change when leadership is willing to confront the truths that persistence reveals.

The Road to Canterbury

Pilgrimage has always held a powerful place in the Christian imagination. The road to Canterbury has, for centuries, symbolised repentance, reflection and the search for truth.

Yet pilgrimage is not simply a journey of distance; it is a journey of honesty.

If the Church is to speak credibly about repentance, the walk to Canterbury must mean more than symbolism. It must involve confronting the institutional cultures that allowed safeguarding failures to occur, and the leadership decisions that allowed them to persist. Without that honesty, the road to Canterbury risks becoming little more than theatre.

~ Michelle Burns

Guarding the Flock

Writing this blog takes time, care, and a lot of tea. If it’s been helpful to you, you’re very welcome to buy me a cuppa as a small way of supporting it. No pressure at all – I’m just glad you’re here - Michelle