Rivals Review: The Rape Was Fiction. The Response Wasn't.

Trigger Warning: Sexual Violence

I watched Rivals for the first time last week, so forgive me if I'm late to the party.

Like many people, I came for the 1980s nostalgia, the larger-than-life characters, the fantastic soundtrack and, let's be honest, the sheer bonkfest that everyone seems to be talking about. Rivals hardly pretends to be highbrow television. It is glamorous, ridiculous, funny, outrageous and at times completely over the top.

What I wasn't expecting was that, somewhere between the shoulder pads and the sex, I'd find myself recognising a story that many of us sadly know all too well.

The rape of Daysee Butler by Reverend Fergus Penney is a work of fiction. The victim-blaming, reputation management, institutional self-protection and reluctance to challenge a powerful man are not.

As a safeguarding professional, it wasn't the assault that felt most familiar. It was the response.

Daysee reports the assault to Tony Baddingham, the Managing Director of Corinium Television, expecting protection and support. Initially, he is outraged and promises action. The moment he learns that the perpetrator is Reverend Fergus Penney, a respected clergyman with influence and connections, everything changes and the focus shifts.

Instead of asking what Daysee needs, questions are raised about whether she led him on. Instead of pursuing accountability, she is encouraged to stay quiet. Instead of protecting the victim, the organisation protects its interests. That is the safeguarding failure.

The assault is committed by an individual. The cover-up, minimisation and victim-blaming are organisational choices.

Some will watch this scene and dismiss it as a relic of the 1980s. A sign of the times. Something that would never happen today.

I so wish that were true.

In safeguarding, I have met too many survivors whose experiences tell a different story. The language may be more sophisticated today and organisations may have better policies, but the underlying dynamics can remain remarkably similar.

The questions are often not asked quite so bluntly anymore.

Instead of "Did you lead him on?" it becomes:

"Are you sure that's what happened?"

"Could there have been a misunderstanding?"

"Have you considered the impact this allegation will have on others?"

"He's done so much good work."

"Why have you waited until now to say something?"

The words change. The effect can be the same.

What Rivals captures so effectively is the way power distorts decision-making. Tony Baddingham knows what has happened. He knows a serious crime has been disclosed. Yet reputation, influence and institutional self-interest become more important than justice.

Many of the Church's most serious safeguarding failures have followed exactly the same pattern.

The lesson is simple. Safeguarding is not tested when allegations involve people with no power. It is tested when the person accused is influential, respected, connected or useful to the institution.

Victims rarely remember the policy.

They remember who believed them.

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