politics

Is empathy finite? Part One: Richard Huckle

There have been two challenging stories in the news this week. In the UK Richard Huckle was given 22 life sentences for sexually abusing around 200 Malaysian children, and in the USA Brock Turner was given 6 months in county jail for sexually assaulting an unconscious woman outside a frat party. Each of them has been hard to read and aspects of each case have brought me to tears. The stories have made me feel grief for the victims and anger at the perpetrators, frustration about the cultural norms that gave them opportunity and in their mind justification for their actions, and vexed at the justice systems that somehow seemed inadequate in the face of each situation. And in each case, it has been really hard to hold on to any empathy for the perpetrator, despite my strongly held belief that people are the product of their experiences and influenced by the context, rather than ‘born evil’.

Because I have read and thought so much about these two cases, and discussed them online, I thought I would write a blog post about each. This is the first of those two blogs, and is about Richard Huckle.

Make no mistake, what he has done is unthinkably awful. Genuinely evil, to the point it is hard to even comprehend. He deliberately targeted vulnerable children and babies in deprived communities for his own gratification, and shared his activities with others for financial gain through the dark web. He even wrote a manual advising other paedophiles how to sexually abuse children in less developed countries. He was clearly without conscience or empathy, or able to override any remaining scraps of either in favour of sexual gratification. The psychiatric assessments were reported to say that he justified his actions and showed no remorse. His ledger and writings on the dark web boasted about his activities. So I can understand why he got such a hefty sentence, and why many people feel he should have been tried in Malaysia where he could have got a death sentence. He has harmed hundreds of children and families, and changed the course of their lives for the worse. No sentence can ever compensate for that.

I found myself thinking that if he committed suicide or was killed by other inmates very few people would be sorry to hear the news. In fact many would argue that the cost of 25+ years in prison is money that will be wasted on an individual that is beyond rehabilitation. Comments on the internet below the breaking news stories said things like:

“Hope he rots in hell he doesn’t deserve to breath air”

“It’s time to bring in capital punishment for paedophiles. Why should we pay for his upkeep? Death is the only appropriate punishment for this creep”.

“How tragic for his father and mother, who were obviously conscientious and committed parents. It just goes to show, you can give your children a good upbringing but you simply can’t control how they turn out. This guy is a slave to his perverted sexuality and his condition is incurable. He really should be locked up for the rest of his life because he will always be a danger to children. What a terrible affliction for any human being to be born with”.

And a woman in the public gallery shouted “a thousand deaths is too good for you” as he was led away from court.

Despite all of my psychology and experience with child protection issues and knowledge that most people who harm children have been harmed themselves, I found myself hating him and feeling no empathy whatsoever. It was as if he had stepped outside of the range that my empathy could stretch. I wanted him to suffer because he had made others suffer. If I’m honest, I’m still very conflicted about it.

However, like the awesome film Arlington Road illustrates, there is rarely a lone gunman. As much as it is an attractive narrative that distances us from responsibility, I don’t think that one person in a million is randomly born evil and will inevitably do things like this. I believe there are things we can do to make such events less likely to recur over time, and it is that belief that stops me feeling hopeless and helpless when the news constantly bombards me with all the evil in the world.

When I took a step back from the emotions raised by the awfulness of what this man did and thought about what I have learned from both research and practice, I found that there are in fact lots of pieces of knowledge that can help us to make sense of what happened and what we can do to reduce the chances of it happening again. In other words, I started to think like a psychologist again, and I wanted a formulation that would help me to reach some understanding of how he got to the position of doing such evil things. Such an understanding would let me sidestep my helplessness, anger and desire for retribution, and instead focus on something constructive; doing something positive to prevent similar cases from occurring again in the future.

As I mentioned earlier, I believe that people like Huckle are a product of their experiences as well as their innate character, and their offending happens within a context. Of course I still believe in free will, and that people are culpable for the outcomes of the choices they made, and clearly Huckle made very very bad choices again and again and deserves to face the consequences of that. But we don’t make those choices in isolation. Although he was particularly prolific in his offending, Huckle was far from the only person to perpetrate child sexual abuse in the UK. In fact, there are over 100,000 people in the UK who have committed a sexual offence against a child and around 5000 new convictions are made each year. About a fifth of the population have experienced some form of unwanted sexual contact before they reach adulthood. Police recorded 36,429 sexual offences against children in the UK in 2013-14, and estimates suggest that only one in eight offences are reported. So this is a massive problem. (To put it into context, 1600 children per year are diagnosed with cancer, so sexual abuse is more than 20-180 times as prevalent). I believe that when it comes to any form of antisocial behaviour, violent or sexual crime, particularly on this scale, such actions are also an indication something is wrong in our society. It doesn’t surprise me that numbers on the child protection register are rising during this decade of ideological austerity that is widening the wealth gap in the UK. Just as suicide rates, substance use, homelessness and the incidence of mental health problems are increasing as a result of political decisions, so domestic violence and child maltreatment is rising as people fail to cope with the additional stressors imposed by benefit cuts, sanctions and reductions in public services.

There are several likely risk factors that relate to the abuser. First we know that whilst experiencing sexual abuse is neither necessary nor sufficient to create a perpetrator, the chance of sexually abusing children is increased threefold if he was sexually abused in his own childhood, and that experiencing sadistic emotional or physical abuse can also increase risk. We know little about Huckle’s family, but attachment disorganisation and the absence of any secure attachment figures seems much more prevalent amongst abusers. It is known that many sex offenders have sexual dysfunction. Isolation, low mood, loneliness and lack of social skill seems to also contribute, as do neuropsychological impairments – and Huckle was described as a loner who spent most of his time on the computer, as well as “uncharismatic” and on the periphery of things. Finally, the majority of people who sexually abuse children are religious (studies show 93% of abusers to report a strong religious identity, and around 5% of priests have been named in disclosures of sexual abuse). In between trips to Malaysia to abuse children Huckle was actively involved in the church and described himself as a devout Christian. Was that just an act, designed to gain the language and credibility to access children, or was there another motivation? Was he perhaps conflicted about his actions and trying to compensate or seek forgiveness? Or did he believe he was already going to hell, so he might as well do what he wanted in the meanwhile? Or did he have outwardly strong morals as compensation for lacking an internalised moral code? I suspect we will never know.

The part of this picture that is less often a focus of attention is the contribution of online communities to the normalising and even encouragement of abusive activities. However, we know that using the internet gives people an (often false) sense of anonymity and privacy, that brings out certain traits in their behaviour that might otherwise be inhibited because of the social consequences. On top of that certain communities have developed that collect and exaggerate certain types of behaviour. For example, the notorious bulletin board 4chan has boards within which particular patterns of behaviour from trolling to internet vigilantism (such as the hacker group Anonymous) have become the norm. Likewise certain boards have allowed the gathering of gamergaters, men’s rights activists, furries (people who like to role play anthropomorphised animals), bronies (adult male fans of the children’s cartoon My Little Pony), otaku (Japanese nerds), toonphiles (people who want to have sex with cartoon characters), adult babies, truthers (people who believe in elaborate government conspiracies, such as that 9/11 didn’t happen), those trying to give up masturbating to pornography, and many other quirky groups that would not be able to express themselves within a mainstream community. There are groups that advocate in favour of all kinds of risky behaviour from anorexia to suicide, drink-driving to barebacking (unprotected sex between men, which includes “bug-chasing” – having unprotected sex with men who are HIV positive with the intention of gaining HIV positive status). Online people can present with whatever persona they want to create. Instead of being lonely and powerless they can be charming and popular. In that context, it is not surprising that there are websites that normalise and encourage child pornography, and create demand for more content (including a financial incentive, which Huckle had used to seek crowd-funding for pornographic material he had made related to his abuse of a 3-year-old girl).

However, there is much that is unknown about the relationship between use of the internet, viewing child pornography and sexual abuse of children. Does the availability of “edgy” content pull users of legal pornography towards more extreme material that they would not otherwise access? Does the market create an increase in abuse to provide the materials that can be sold? Does viewing child pornography online become a stepping stone to contact abuse? Or does it allow potential contact abusers to meet their needs without harming additional children? Is it related to the grooming of children online? One in eight people convicted of viewing child pornography on the internet had a known history of offending against children in person but it is still unclear which is chicken and which is egg when it comes to a sexual interest in children and viewing of child pornography. But it is clear that law enforcement resources are totally outnumbered by the prevalence of child pornography online.

Finally, there are factors which make some children more vulnerable to become victims of child sexual abuse than others. These include the lack of a secure attachment figure, shame, isolation, neglect, disability, the presence of other forms of child abuse, socioeconomic deprivation, stressors placed on the family (eg unemployment, bereavement, divorce), cultures in which secrecy is encouraged or permitted, prior sexual abuse in the family (particularly if this was not reported and discussed), alcohol or substance misuse, domestic violence, and settings in which there is sexual language, pornography or exposure to adult sexual activities. These same factors make it harder for children to disclose what has happened to them, and for such a disclosure to lead to suitable protective action. Only one in eight children who experiences abuse receives any professional input to assess or intervene with it.

So there are things that we can do to mitigate the risk of future harm. We can protect future children by addressing inequality, providing more support for parenting and attachment, providing more prosocial opportunities for engagement for disenfranchised young people, being more proactive about responding to child abuse, having more investment in policing the internet so that access to child pornography reduces or is perceived as more risky. We can help victims of abuse to speak up early, to the right people, and to be believed. We can encourage the investigation and prosecution of sexual offences against children, and ensure that conviction rates and sentences are sufficient to act as a deterrent. We can specifically develop international policing solutions to address sex tourism. And most importantly of all, we can also help victims to recover from the abuse they have experienced, to feel safe and protected and develop healthy norms about relationships.

Huckle has done evil and unforgivable things. I still can’t find much empathy for the person he is now. However, if I think back to him being born, and the experiences that must have taken place to take him to the point at which he could abuse children, I am able to feel sad for that baby and angry at those who harmed him and failed to protect him or to intervene much earlier to divert him from his path and recognise their contribution to his development and the harm that he then perpetrated. And if behaviour is learnt, then no matter how unlikely, there may be a future point at which it can change. So maybe in 25 years from now it is worth reconsidering whether he still presents a risk, or whether he has gained insight and empathy that he is currently lacking. Perhaps new treatments will have emerged by then to make it possible. It seems hard to imagine that being the case. I’m usually an optimist, but for Huckle, I can’t foresee a happy ending – and I’m not sure I want to.

But there is a note of optimism in the bigger picture. Despite all the evils of austerity, and the massive burden that is creating on the wellbeing of the world population, and a few horrific cases that have been well-publicised in the media there is some progress. Sexual abuse is being talked about more, and more resources are being targeted at prevention and intervention. And there is fairly solid evidence that although there has been a dramatic spike of reports of abuse in the UK over the last two years, the overall prevalence of sexual abuse in the western world appears to be decreasing over time. Hopefully, that decrease will continue to accelerate over time, until sexual abuse really is the one in a million exception, rather than an all too present reality for a significant proportion of children.

 

Where have all the flowers gone?

This week Liam Fee’s name was added to the list of toddlers killed by their caregivers, alongside Peter Connolly, Victoria Climbie, Daniel Pelka, Ayeeshia Smith and Keegan Downer. And the newspapers have turned their gaze to their favourite post-mortem task of placing the blame. The conclusion, as ever, will be the ‘born evil’ women who killed him, and social workers who ‘failed to prevent’ the death. But that doesn’t tell the whole story.

Firstly, how can social workers prevent child deaths when their services have been cut back so much that thresholds for intervention have risen ever higher?  Social workers are over stretched and morale is at an all time low. When they intervene too much they are demonised by the press as baby-snatchers. When they don’t intervene enough they are demonised as failures who didn’t protect children. Since legal aid was slashed, court proceedings expect them to be both case worker and to cover the role of expert to the court. The social workers I know are amazing people, dedicated to helping make a difference with families, but tell me that some workplace cultures focus on form-filling and don’t allow as much time out in the field intervening with families as they would want.

Personally, I think prevention takes more than reactive services like the current remit of social work. We need proactive screening services to spot where there is need much earlier, when interventions for families are cheaper and more effective. In my opinion we need universal health visiting back, for every birth registered to be followed by mandatory visits twice a year until the kid starts school and for that to include weighing and measuring the child and seeing them in just their pants. It will also see the home environment and the relationship between parent and child. Old fashioned, maybe, but it would hopefully catch malnutrition and serious injuries earlier, and save lives in cases like these.

Secondly, what kind of lives must those two women have had that they were so un-empathic that they could witness and ignore such suffering, let alone create it? There must have been great trauma to end up like that, and a total absence of nurture. Of course no experiences are an excuse for the sadistic things they did to the children in their care. But they can help us to understand what happened, and in doing so to help prevent a future recurrence of similar issues. If we just blame it on innate characteristics of the individual perpetrators there is little we can learn to prevent the same thing happening again (except perhaps chase the fallacy of a genetic marker for evil, which I’m almost surprised is not already being done, given the overly biological focus of research topics that are clearly more influenced by experience).

I’m not convinced that anybody is ‘born evil’. I think people are born with the capacity to be a wide range of things, and their experiences (particularly their early experiences with their caregivers) determine the direction of travel, the types of skills they develop and the behaviours that are in their repertoire. Given exposure to enough trauma, a total lack of safe attachment figures, few skills and loads of dysfunctional strategies, people can end up doing awful things, particularly with a hair-trigger tendency to fight or flight under stress.

This is an evidence based position, not just my opinion as a clinician. We have known for at least a decade that childhood experience is the leading predictor of the health and social well-being, and that this applies on the individual level as well as for the nation. But as well as the self-evident human cost, there is also a huge economic cost to society. Studies show that the financial impact of child maltreatment on the economy amounts to billions of pounds per year, and the impact on lifetime health and employment is equivalent to a diagnosis of diabetes. However, the costs are hard to measure, and occur throughout the person’s lifetime so they are not as obvious.

Violence in society is neither universal nor inevitable (in fact it is almost absent amongst central Thai or Lapp society). Violence is a behaviour that is caused and can be prevented. When it comes to predicting violence, it is clear that the propensity is hugely influenced by experiences in the home before the age of 3. We also know that various interventions to improve care and the quality of the attachment relationship, or the more drastic intervention of removing the child and placing them in a household with better care are highly effective. However, there are also sociopolitical factors at play. Once the use of violence is established in a society, the levels are influenced by many factors, including:

  • Economic inequality
  • Unemployment
  • Alcohol consumption
  • Violence in the media
  • Poor housing
  • Availability of weapons

And yet, over the last decade economic inequality has increased, social housing has been sold off, and more violence has been shown in the media. More hopelessness has been created by the cuts to benefits for people with disabilities, or living in homes with an extra room. Services for people using drugs and alcohol have been cut by austerity measures whilst the need for them has increased. So the government has increased the risk of violence, whilst (as with immigration, single parents or benefit fraud) blame is being directed onto vulnerable individuals and public services.

Liam Fee, Peter Connolly, Victoria Climbie, Daniel Pelka, Ayeeshia Smith and Keegan Downer are the tip of the iceberg. There are many child deaths from maltreatment that never make the news. Best estimates based on serious case reviews suggest 40-80 deaths of preschool children are caused by their caregivers per year. And of course, many more children are injured physically or emotionally every day. For every child experiencing abuse who is known to services, eight more are going unseen. But this is not down to individuals who are born evil, and it is not down to negligent social workers. It is a socioeconomic and political problem. And whilst the media propagates the narrative of individual blame and politicians turn a blind eye, children will continue to die.

Where have all these children gone, long time passing?
Where have all these children gone, long time ago?
Where have all these children gone?
Gone to graveyards every one.
Oh, when will we ever learn?
Oh, when will we ever learn?

Gaining Influence

Quite a long time ago, I identified that it gives me most satisfaction when work gives me the opportunity to have 5 I’s: Intellectual challenge, Independence, Innovation, Income and Influence. This month I have really been working on the last of those, and trying to connect with the right people to make change within the Looked After Children sector as a whole, rather than individual by individual or company by company.

It transpires that over time I have accidentally built up a wide professional network, and a credible platform from which to connect with higher level influencers. It seems that all the time I’ve invested into unpaid stuff helps when it comes to connecting with new people and looking like I know what I’m talking about. This is helpful for me to hold in mind as committee work can all too often feeling like a drain on my time that is almost invisible to anyone else and may have little that is tangible as an outcome for what can be quite an onerous process. Logically I know that this type of activity is rewarded by the innate satisfaction of contributing to important work that needs doing, but this is something I find easier to recognise at the start of the process when I first put up my hand to volunteer and after the end of all the graft than whilst in the middle of it.

Being chair of CPLAAC, on the national CYPF committee for the BPS, part of the NICE guidance development group and the BPS/FJC standards group have let me contribute to various publications that will hopefully reach wider audiences and influence practice. Whether that is in terms of the support and interventions offered for children with attachment problems or the standards that should be expected of psychologists who act as experts to the family courts or the chapter on best practise for psychological services for children and families with high social care needs in What good looks like in psychological services for children, young people and their families, the paper I wrote about Social Enterprises as a vehicle for delivering psychological services or the CFCPR issue I edited on good clinical practise around attachment difficulties, I feel like I have been part of some good work that establishes professional standards and reference points.

And with those things on my CV and a network of allies who share my goals about improving outcomes for Looked After Children, I have been able to meet with various decision makers and influencers about my ideas. The first important contact I made was with Jonathan Stanley, the chair of the Independent Children’s Homes Association. He has been fantastic at promoting my work to residential care providers and helping me to gain a seat at the table. I then met Almudena Lara at the DfE, although she was very new to the role of being LAC lead, and moved on before she was able to pick up our discussion again. I have also met with Social Finance. More recently I was able to meet with Sir Martin Narey, the government advisor (and ex-chair of Barnardos) conducting a review of children’s homes in the UK, and a representative of the DfE. And latterly I had the opportunity to meet Lord Listowel at a recent conference and hope to speak with him further soon.

In all of these meetings, I have been promoting the value of clinical governance in the social care sector. That is, the importance of being able to evidence clinical outcomes and substantiate that you are doing what you claim to do – in this case, that placement providers are improving outcomes for children and young people in their care. My wider goal is to allow commissioners, social workers and Ofsted to be able to see what kind of placement a child needs, whether a placement is making positive change for a child and who can provide the most suitable and effective placement. I’m also keen that the idea of “therapeutic care” is better defined, and that therapists working within care organisations need to be qualified, supervised, regulated by a professional body and practice within their areas of competence. But my main goal is to stop the situation in which placements are paid to provide care for the most complex and vulnerable young people in society, and do so by providing accommodation, food and transport to education but do nothing to address their emotional, behavioural, mental health, developmental/learning needs, risk to self and others, or ability to form healthy relationships with others. I think the tools I have been developing, like http://www.BERRI.org.uk, and the training I provide for staff/carers can help with that, but my goal is nothing less than to change the culture of care in the UK.

Evidence has shown that money invested in the most complex children during their childhood is repaid tenfold in savings to the public purse in reductions in use of mental health, social care and criminal justice services over their lifetime. So why is it that the placements for the most complex children and young people are primarily provided by carers with very low levels of qualification and training? The first steps to improving standards are to ensure that all carers in the foster and residential sector get training about managing the impact of trauma and disrupted attachments, and that all children in public care are regularly monitored on outcome measurements. But these need to be meaningful, and linked into practice, rather than done as hoops to jump that are disconnected from daily care.

I can think of nothing more worthwhile to do with my professional life than to improve care for Looked After Children in the UK, and I hope that I can achieve enough reach and influence to make a genuine difference.

 

 

Some thoughts on causing offence: 2 Trigger Warnings

The idea of cultural appropriation being offensive (which I discussed in part one of this blog entry) seems to go hand in hand with other recent social movements towards being more aware of the emotional well-being of others. This includes the use of social media to document the pervasiveness of small everyday actions that are a cumulative indication of how pervasive some prejudices are in society. The everyday sexism project has highlighted examples of how women’s daily experiences differ from men’s because of their gender, and there are similar projects to highlight the pervasiveness of racism. These small and often individually minor experiences, particularly in the context of race, are being termed “microaggressions” to denote the harm they cause when considered across a lifetime. I think these projects are helpful because, like the short films ‘Homoworld‘  and ‘Oppressed Majority‘, they humanise concepts that might otherwise be hard to explain, and show the massive quantity of incidents that might each in isolation seem too petty to raise. Without such examples or dramatisations it can be very hard to put ourselves into the perspective of another and to realise that their everyday experience is different to your own. And awareness is the first step towards behaviour change.

This change is happening at both the individual and organisational level. There is an increasing perception that organisations such as businesses, universities, public services and broadcasters having some responsibility for the impact of their content on customers, employees, students or their audience. This means being more aware of how the meaning of various content can impact differently on different people according to their experiences. This includes the use of ‘trigger warnings’ to orient readers/viewers/listeners about the aspects of the content that will follow that may resonate for them in negative ways. This could include mention of rape/sexual assault, violence, trauma, child abuse, racism, hate crimes or other forms of prejudice. The intent is to ensure that any person in the audience who has had traumatic experiences in their past is not re-traumatised by unintended exposure similar material without the option to prepare or opt out of that experience.

Although widely mocked, I think trigger warnings are quite sensible in principle. They aren’t there to molly coddle the delicate sensibilities of a whole generation of students (or social justice warriors) that don’t like being challenged, they are there to protect the small percentage of the population that have had traumatic experiences from post-traumatic symptoms. When I hear people on social media bragging about how they intend to trigger others, it seems like they lack either insight into what this means, basic human empathy, or both.

A trigger is a very specific word for what happens in the brain of people who have experienced serious trauma – normally experiences they have perceived as life-threatening – where the brain becomes sensitised to threat. When similar sensory stimuli to those associated with the event are detected, the amygdala goes into overdrive, and will put the person into a state of high physiological arousal (readiness for fight or flight) and make it harder for them to use brain functions apart from those associated with survival. Because the brain does not encode memories in narrative form very effectively during survival situations (due to much reduced activity in the prefrontal cortex) these sensory links often activate sensory memory fragments from the trauma, causing flashbacks and high levels of distress. This means that certain triggers can cause them to re-experience their trauma later on in their lives. Just as a war veteran might get flashbacks or nightmares about their war experiences, so people who have been seriously abused, raped or tortured experience unwanted intrusive images and memories of what they have been through when they see, hear or feel something similar to something they experienced during the trauma.

This isn’t something that has been made up, or reflects certain people being “sensitive flowers” either innately or by choice. It is a scientifically evidenced change to the brain after trauma. Intrusive images or thoughts, including re-experiencing of trauma is one of the diagnostic features of PTSD, and it is well established that certain experiences trigger these flashbacks. MRI scanners show the limbic brain (eg the amygdala) lighting up faster and brighter to threat signals that would not be perceived as threatening by others without the trauma, and the resulting decreased activity in the prefrontal cortex. Neurochemical analysis (eg from swab tests) have shown that this has a significant effect on the person’s neurochemistry and chemical messengers (like adrenalin and cortisol) are released that prepare the body for fight or flight. In short, this is a serious and well-documented physical response to serious trauma that I have blogged about previously. I’ve worked with lots of traumatised and/or abused children and adults and it is a really horrible thing to go though. It seems like a double dose of adversity for those whose abuse/trauma continues to echo through their life months or years later. It is not something to make light of or mock, and only a truly repugnant person would do so.

But being thoughtful about the impact of content on others, and orienting the audience about what is going to be covered, does not have to equal censorship. We should still talk about the tough stuff, study it, make art about it and even sometimes joke about it. It often makes for the most interesting debates, and it is through engagement with these complex and challenging issues that people learn to analyse the motivation of the writer/speaker and to appraise the context as well as the content of what is said.

As uncomfortable as it can be when people use it to say annoying, idiotic and offensive things, I am a believer in free speech. I don’t think being offended is a reason to silence someone. It is a reason to reply so that others are not persuaded by them, to ignore them, or to deny them their audience (because free speech doesn’t entitle you to a platform, and any website, venue or business can decide not to welcome/endorse somebody). But it isn’t a reason to stop them saying their piece, unless it incites violence or racial hatred and is therefore against the law. As hateful and bigoted as Donald Trump is, for example, the answer to the awful things he says is not to ban him from the UK, it is ignore him and deny him the oxygen of publicity, or simply to laugh at him. Mock his ignorance. Share your disgust. Highlight how hateful and harmful his ideas are, and how he has not earned the right to lead by showing any personal qualities that are admirable. Ensure that he faces legal consequences if he oversteps and breaks the law by inciting racial hatred whilst in the UK. But don’t censor him and allow him to take the role of being oppressed, as it would be counter-productive.

Even President Obama has weighed in to say “Anybody who comes to speak to you and you disagree with, you should have an argument with them. But you shouldn’t silence them by saying, ‘You can’t come because I’m too sensitive to hear what you have to say.’ That’s not the way we learn.” I’m inclined to agree. We are all responsible for this conversation, and in the therapy professions, genuine empathy has to include acknowledging the difference between the client’s perspective (or a colleague’s) and your own.

 

Some thoughts on causing offence: 1 Cultural Appropriation

“Cultural appropriation” seems to be something increasingly causing debate, especially in the USA, and reading about all the new terminology and topics of debate, I feel like I’m playing catch up. There are certainly some pretty extreme emotions being raised by some of the incidents (eg a student screaming at an academic whose wife sent an email expressing that the restrictions around halloween costumes recommended by the intercultural affairs committee might be excessive). It seems to have hooked into the fraught racial tensions in the USA, and a broader debate about whether to protect people from offence versus being able to speak freely and discuss any topic.

Cultural appropriation is the term used when people dress up/make up to look as if they are from a different culture or ethnic group. It is particularly controversial when white people impersonate or borrow from minority ethnic cultures. It seems to be an increasingly widely used term. The perception of it being inappropriate to stereotype racial groups by borrowing from their culture has spread much more widely from it being taboo to use ‘black face’ makeup into examples that have until recently been considered to be more acceptable, like a pop star wearing an outfit referencing a particular country or culture. Some people find this highly offensive, and feel it is appropriate to publicly shame anyone involved in doing this. The gist of this viewpoint is that people who have not experienced the oppression of being in the less powerful group should not be able to cherry pick and borrow the superficial bits they like of exotic cultures, especially when these same cultural traits have been disparaged within western cultures by the dominant white narrative.

As a fairly privileged white British woman who hasn’t experienced this first hand (despite being a second generation immigrant and having high levels of prejudice and persecution associated with my cultural heritage), it is sometimes hard to see why the reactions are so extreme. However, I understand from what I have read that for people who have been shamed for their culture and forced to conform with white norms, the adoption of non-white symbols or traits as a mark of difference or rebellion by white people is a reminder of that oppression. It is notable that it has a different meaning to those observers than the positive interpretation that is typically intended by the person involved, or that which is construed by other white people (who may not hold the same negative associations). Sometimes people can be absolutely blind to stereotyped imagery that they do not have personal associations with (see this example regarding racial imagery in a video game).

However, there is now a backlash saying that these complaints are part of a whiny politically correct subculture that enjoys being offended, and takes offence on behalf of others as part of a progressive agenda. More regressive voices like to scathingly label this as a desire for social justice, as if this would be a bad thing. See the comments on any article on this topic published online for plenty of examples.

So let me start by saying that I absolutely see the core legitimate grievance within the wider label of cultural appropriation. I can completely see that having white people ‘black up’ or ‘red face‘ is racist and would be offensive to people of colour, and that using cultural or religious artifacts when stripped of their meaning or commercialised (eg feathered head dresses, or the Hindu bindi) is controversial and could be considered to be in pretty poor taste. I also acknowledge that these appearances often go hand in hand with other elements to the role that make it more racist (such as using stereotyped accents or behaviours). I think it is right that overtly racist caricatures like ‘golliwog’ logos and toys, or racist scenes in early cartoons are relegated to the history books. Similarly, the use of logos and names that stereotype native Americans by sports teams in the USA has persisted for far too long. However, I can’t help but feel that the issue of cultural appropriation isn’t as clear cut as some people make out. It seems to me that the rules being made to restrict the risk of offence over culture (eg in American universities) are becoming as much of a problem as the issues they seek to address, and obscuring the very genuine issues of race inequality that lie underneath.

So are Halloween costumes on campus really oppressing people from minority groups? Is it really of concern if someone morphs her own white face to represent endangered African tribes? Or if white models get braided corn-rows? Are musicians like Madonna, Selina Gomez, Iggy Azalea and Beyonce really being “disrespectful” when dressing with elements of Indian costumes, such as wearing a bindi, sari or facial jewellery, or when Katie Perry wears a Geisha-like outfit, or Lady Gaga references a burqa? Is Miley Cyrus twerking disrespectful to working class black women?

If these examples are offensive, how far do we take this? What of actors who play people with different nationalities, religions or accents within a particular skin-tone? What about able bodied or neurotypical actors taking on roles of characters with physical, developmental or learning disabilities? What about actors who have not experienced mental health problems playing characters experiencing them in films/TV? Can musicians/artists only draw on influences within their own country/ethnicity/experience? Can writers only create characters of their own ethnic background? Can art or media not be provocative or controversial any more? Can I not cook curry or sushi or chow mein? The slippery slope could continue ad absurdum.

Surely, several issues are being confounded here. Firstly that there are many areas in which there is very little diversity of representation. For example, we clearly need more ethnic and gender diversity in business leaders and politicians in this country, as most of them remain white men. We also need more varied faces, accents and perspectives in the media, and as role models across the board. We need more diversity in the people who win awards (all white oscar nominations two years running is ridiculous, for example) and we need more diversity in those making decisions. Secondly, we can’t compensate for this lack of diversity by putting yet more of the same group into costume to represent others, and doing so would disrespect the lived experience of those being represented. There is a real need for representation and not just for increased mindfulness from those in power.

I’ve sat on a committee in which we have tried to ‘hold in mind issues of race, age, gender, religion, culture, sexuality, disability and other aspects of diversity’ but I don’t think it was possible when very few of those characteristics varied much within the group, and those which did vary were not much spoken about. The focus tends to be on what the group have in common, and each individual might feel unworthy of their status (particularly if they feel they don’t fit in as well, or are there because of a particular minority status), and that makes it much harder to highlight times when a devalued characteristic of an individual might be relevant. For example, in a mostly male boardroom, women tend to take on more traditionally masculine forms of discourse, and to feel less able to express emotions or feminine characteristics or needs. So, it seems likely that it is even harder to speak up about other aspects of diversity. It felt brave yet somehow risky for Crispin Blunt MP to talk about his use of poppers and how banning this would be criminalising a substance used widely by gay men. However, this is more the exception than the rule. Diverse voices tend to be marginalised and to find it hard to reach a platform, and this is something that needs to change. And that change needs to start right from the top. Having a minister for equality who voted against gay marriage is patently ridiculous, for example, yet we have had two in a row, neither of whom have any more experience of inequality than their privileged example of being female.

To go back to cultural appropriation more specifically, I’m not sure it is the action or costume in isolation that is the problem. I suspect that the context has a lot to do with the derived meaning. If actors and public figures were more varied and included people with physical disabilities, learning difficulties and mental health problems, a variety of religions and cultures, diverse ethnicities, all sexualities, genders, ages and body shapes, then everybody would feel represented and emotions would not be so heightened. If musicians, celebrities and scholars gaining funding and media coverage were more diverse, then the cliched references to other cultures would have much less power. Similarly, if the fashion industry routinely used models with a variety of skin tones for all campaigns, and treated their sources of inspiration more respectfully, then the hairstyles of models used to showcase collections with international influences would be much less problematic. If people from different perspectives had similar levels of power, then speaking up to criticise someone from a majority group would not be so difficult do or as easy for critics to attribute to sour grapes. But attitudes and power structures take a long time to change, and can be very resistant to progress, particularly where this threatens the status quo. The difficulty is therefore twofold – how we move towards the bigger goal, and what we do to manage the problems that will continue to appear until we get there.

Broadly I think we should allow people to express themselves, but also encourage thoughtfulness and conversations that challenge people’s preconceived ideas. Dressing up is usually playful, and done for fun rather than to make a statement. Sometimes, being a little ‘edgy’ is part of that fun. I would hope that a certain degree of role play allows us both flights of imagination and greater empathy. It would be a great shame if children couldn’t dress up as anyone outside of their own cultural group in play, for example, or if fancy dress costumes were similarly restricted. However, we should also be open to learning from other’s experience. So if a costume is culturally insensitive or causes offence, people need to speak up to say so.

However, there are two very important provisos to this. Firstly, it isn’t the responsibility of disempowered minorities to challenge the actions of the majority group, it is everybody’s responsibility. And second, highlighting a different perspective should, as far as possible, be done without publicly shaming the person involved, unless they continue to repeat the same actions which are causing offense. We can all have times when we accidentally do or say something thoughtless, and that shouldn’t be an irreparable error. It is what we do when that is drawn to our attention that is the measure of the person. Publicly shaming a person who makes a mistake or poor judgement is the kind of black and white thinking (if you excuse the pun) that polarises opinion and drives a wedge between different population groups.

I would also note that there are times that it is perfectly appropriate to join in with traditions and wear costumes as an outsider, and would be disrespectful not to. For example, for female western tourists to cover up exposed skin and perhaps their hair when visiting various religious sites, such as mosques and temples, or for guests to festivals and weddings to be dressed and decorated in the local style as part of the ritual preparations. Similarly it is sometimes helpful for somebody independent of a particular culture to study and document aspects of it that those within the culture might take for granted. It doesn’t replace the voices from within that culture (which we need to facilitate and amplify), but can be a helpful supplement. Similarly, I can’t see that use of influences from other culture as inspiration for art can’t be done respectfully or that having different perspectives isn’t generally a way to drive progress in any area of study. We wouldn’t have mathematics, a calendar, politics, written language or many sports if we relied solely on our indigenous and anglo saxon heritage.

Overall, I think nowadays we are in a melting pot whether we want to be or not. Our culture isn’t static, it is fluid and constantly evolving. There is increasing globalisation, and our history has gained from many different cultural roots. We travel internationally more than ever and we all have heritage in our DNA that we can track across continents. Our fashions, arts and sciences are enriched with knowledge and influences from all over the world. I’d see that as a positive thing, and an opportunity for ongoing dialogue and learning. To me, the key to drawing on other cultures is the context and respect with which we do so. There are some good examples of cultural appropriation. If we want to be sensible about culture, then giving credit to our sources, being open to feedback, and doing it with respect and admiration seems like a good place to start.

Happily ever after: Some thoughts on trauma in the movies

I watched a romantic drama this evening in which a man and a woman who has a child from her past relationship fall in love. The ex-boyfriend is controlling, threatening and manipulative and tries to sabotage the relationship. He is shown getting drunk and grabbing the woman’s arm tightly to stop her leaving twice, and at another point he threatens the man with a weapon. Towards the end of the film the ex-boyfriend is drunk and upset. He threatens to take the child, who runs away and falls into a river. The ex-boyfriend rescues the child at the cost of his own life, and the mother and child witness him meeting a sudden grizzly death. Then the couple get together, become a family with the child and the film ends, leaving them to live happily ever after.

Having watched a set of characters for an hour and a half that were portrayed sympathetically and realistically enough to feel invested in, this seemed like a weird ending. I was left with this really disconcerting feeling that the writers, producers and large numbers of reviewers of this film (who gave it respectable scores on Amazon and IMDB) thought that this climactic scene tied up the ends neatly and left us with the uplifting moral righteousness of the baddie getting his just deserts, the couple unimpeded in their romance and a perfect nuclear family.

But how could a child who just witnessed his father’s death (and probably felt responsible for it) not have any emotional reaction to that? Would it not be yet another loss of a close male relationship for this young child, who had already lost others as part of the back-story? How could the mother not have complex feelings about the death of a guy who has been emotionally and potentially physically abusing her for five years? Would her relief perhaps be tinged with guilt that her new romance triggered these events, or at being relieved to see the back of him? Would a mother not feel sadness in empathy for her child’s experience of trauma and loss? Would she not feel echoes of the loss of her own father in childhood, or her brother the previous year? Perhaps their different ways of dealing with grief and loss would challenge the romantic relationship? How about our leading man, who was mourning lost friends and showing signs of PTSD at the beginning of the film. Would it not re-awaken all the unresolved grief he is repressing? And what of the ex-boyfriend’s parents and their stoical thanks to those that tried to rescue him? Does nobody cry for this man, who gave his life up to save his child? Was his inept handling of the relationship that resulted from an unplanned pregnancy in his teens so bad that he deserved to die?

Why couldn’t the film have been one that illustrated the reality and complexity of modern family relationships? Surely the alternative was for the father to have shown his priority was the wellbeing of the child, during the rescue scene, but to have survived and been part of a renegotiated family configuration in which the child was able to have both a positive experience of contact with him and to live in the new family unit with Mum and step-Dad? As I often tell children who feel that any affection to foster or adoptive carers is disloyal to their birth family, love is not like a cake where you have a finite amount to share out between all your relationships, love is like candles where using your fire to light others just creates more brightness for everyone. But if the father had to die, then they needed to show the emotional fallout of that. They can’t have one without the other, any more than they could show a person standing in sunshine without showing their shadow.

As it stood, the film profoundly failed to acknowledge the impact of trauma on the different characters. And this film was far from alone in that. So many traumas occur in films and TV shows that it seems they are very much part of the expectation nowadays. In every vampire franchise I’ve seen the head counts of characters close to the main protagonists who die are extraordinary, and yet they briefly mourn and then move on. In Vampire Diaries, an average of 19 characters shown on screen die per episode, and the main character, Elena, has lost almost every living relative and most of her friends, as well as dying herself, twice! Many other shows track medical emergencies, murderers, serious crimes, drug dealing and power battles, yet they are dealt with in an entirely sanitised, emotion-free way. Sure, a pathologist would be well-used to the physical nature of human corpses, but even in the most hardened professionals some cases creep through the cracks into your psyche. The person that looks a little like someone you know, or reminds you of something in your past. The tragic story that becomes apparent from the cause of death, or the untimely demise of a child. We are not robots analysing data, surely we recognise that people are like us and the people we care about?

The latest Star Wars film showed planet-scale genocide without that even being acknowledged by the cast. It’s a really good film otherwise, and I really enjoyed it, but the scriptwriters chose to show genocide as shorthand to make the baddies bad. It could equally have done so through less wide-scale slaughter, or by showing the snatching of children to indoctrinate as stormtroopers or many other plot devices. Including the slaughter of millions of people was a plot choice, and given that the film is part of a historical franchise that is pitched to the whole family and used to market toys to children, that is a pretty weird choice of plot. To then skim over making light of it makes that more disturbing, rather than less, once you think about it. I’m not saying the main characters should have processed the emotional impact there and then; I’m sure if you are busy fighting for your life or have 20 minutes to save the world and see some planets blow up, that isn’t the moment you down tools, lie down and cry. But even an extra second of footage showing sad faces, one person humanising the loss by mention of having lost individuals there, or an additional comment about how awful that loss was, would have given some hint of the emotional connections of all the people whose lives were extinguished in an instant. In the original trilogy when Alderaan was destroyed they used the change in the force to acknowledge how monstrous it was. I still remember the scale and momentousness given by the line “I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened.” And this is what was missing in The Force Awakens.

But I think this lack of acknowledgement of millions of deaths was also illustrating something very poignant about human processing of events; we identify much more emotionally with death or distress at the individual scale than we do at a population level. Think of how the discovery of the body of young Aylan Kurdi humanised the treatment of Syrian refugees in the news narratives, for example. Prior to that point, they were treated like an invading army of ants, but in the weeks immediately afterwards some individual stories were told and people felt more sympathetic and we were shown footage of refugees being welcomed into various European countries. I think that change in response according to the scale of deaths is part of human nature, as is our ability to shut off from suffering and get on with life, if that is necessary to our survival. At the extreme end, people living through wars or in areas of high risk or conflict are probably coping by living in “survival mode” and using more primitive parts of the brain in favour of the prefrontal cortex, which has reduced activity under threat. It makes sense, logically, as we do have to compartmentalise awful stuff to just keep on going sometimes. I think back to all the life events that happened whilst I was pregnant (including a car accident, my granddad dying, a close colleague dying unexpectedly, my job being placed at risk, my babies being born very prematurely) and think I only coped with everything I couldn’t avoid by going into a psychological bubble and putting all that bad news aside to deal with later.

Maybe these fictional narratives of unacknowledged loss that have become so prevalent in TV and film are using this tendency – our ability to put emotional distance between ourselves and tragedy through various forms of displacement. If something awful happens far away, or it happened in the past, or in a different cultural context, or in fiction, then we are able to distance ourselves from it and deal with it at a purely cognitive level. We think about it but don’t feel it. The shame is that this seems to be how many politicians and decision makers deal with the problems affecting people in our day to day lives. Although it is ‘psychologically expensive’ to allow emotions in, it is only with empathy that we can really make informed decisions. So in real life as well as in fiction, I think a bit more feeling would be a good thing.

Some thoughts on the recent atrocities in Paris

The news of ordinary French people watching sport, chilling out at a cafe or attending a gig this week being gunned down by violent extremists, really brings home how it could have been any one of us. Its unthinkably awful that anyone would target random innocent civilians like this.

But the response from the public has been split in several directions. Do we need to toughen our stance on asylum seekers? Tighten border controls? Crack down on Muslims more generally? Do we need to show solidarity with the French by lighting everything from water fountains to facebook profiles in red, white and blue? Has this finally brought terrorism to us in Western Europe? Or does it just highlight how we are constantly ignoring the stories of so many people of other nationalities who have been killed across the world recently without making headlines of outpourings of sympathy? These are complicated questions to unpick.

In terms of whether the right response is to call for harsher actions towards violent extremists, I am reminded of an article I read in the psychologist, and an evidence review in the BPS research digest about the psychology of terrorism and extremism respectively. The main point I took from it is that acknowledging the kernel of legitimate grievance behind such actions and engaging in dialogue with moderates from similar demographics are both actions that make it harder to for extremists to recruit, whilst moving towards more polarised positions (eg all this tough talk about closing borders and not negotiating with terrorists) or language blaming the whole of a culture or religious group make more people within that broader group feel inclined to sign up to the more extreme positions.

Whilst the actions of ISIS are deplorable, the generalisation of negative feeling to all muslims is appalling. I even read about a tragic story in which a Hindu man had been pushed into the path of a train and killed by someone who thought this was a suitable reprisal for 9/11. Islam is a religion as large and diverse as Christianity. Nobody thinks the Klu Klux Klan represent Christians, yet large swathes of the western world appear to think ISIS speak for all muslims, when they are just as misrepresentative of the mainstream view within Islam. And alienating Muslims from the western world is a big mistake. The huge amount of moderate representatives of Islam (over a billion of them) are ordinary people who are just as appalled about the action of extremists as members of other religions or none. And they also form the moderate pole of the spectrum from which the extremists are drawn to ISIS. So we need to ensure that we engage this group in how we address these atrocities, and to integrate them into our societies to ensure this polarisation does not continue to play out across the world.

Extremism comes from perceived injustice and powerlessness amplified in small groups of like-minded others, and justified with reference to religion. Reducing injustice, allowing grievances to be heard and addressed, and being inclusive to moderate representatives are the only variables that anybody outside of the individual and those very small cultural subgroups has any control over, and it is these things that let South Africa get out of apartheid and Northern Ireland get out of the troubles there. I can’t see any other way to address the other conflicts going on in the world, be they in Afghanistan, Iraq, Gaza, Nigeria, Syria or Somalia. Surely, even if we accept that some human beings will always turn to violence, the aim is to reduce the scale of conflicts down from wars to individuals, so that less people get caught in the crossfire?

As to whether we have reacted with more sympathy to deaths in France to deaths elsewhere in the world. Again I think this is a complex issue. There is implicit bias in the system, coupled with habituation. We are more attentive to stories that feature people we identify with, and we pay more attention where the events seem novel, rather than recurrent. Think about children going missing from home and the coverage that white kids from ‘nice homes’ get when compared to any other ethnicity, or kids from the care system (by way of example, the other day I noticed that three kids went missing from the same place on the same day and only the white girl got news coverage). The British media definitely place more focus on events that affect white, western nations. Even though non-mainstream media and some voices within social media are picking up on this theme and people are starting to question the systemic bias in the news, I think it is fair to say that we do have endemic problems with racism in the western world. Whether that is due to prejudice, vested interests or the fact that telling stories about familiar protagonists or showing photos that look like the customer is more likely to sell newspapers or screen time, I don’t know.

However, people are always illogical about world events. An individual story you can relate to humanises what would otherwise be too overwhelming to process. Genocide, war, famine are all too big to conceptualise, so we figure we can’t make a difference and don’t give them much head space. We don’t know anything about the refugee camps outside Syria, or the day to day grimness of so many of these wide scale conflicts. However, a mother who can’t feed her child in the news coverage of the famine, an orphan who plays football on a LiveAid appeal video, the shock of an ordinary looking person at a gig or a cafe talking about how they saw their peers getting gunned down, or a dead baby washed up on a beach – those are the individual stories that we can relate to. They call out to us, and force us to place ourselves in the shoes of the protagonists, and that makes us sympathetic and much more drawn to positive action.

So do we speak up about all the missing stories when friends share content about Paris, to show their virtuousness is not evenly applied? I’m not so sure. It seems to me that the solution is not to criticise those people who do feel empathy with the individual stories they can relate to, but to tell the stories of the other conflicts in more relatable ways also, so they get a similarly empathic and constructive response. Compassion isn’t like a cake that is a finite resource that has to be shared out between all callers. It is something we can cultivate and broaden, and help to bring out in others.

It reminds me of a quote from Martin Luther King: “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that”.

And we have to reach beyond the boundaries of religion, ethnicity or nationality. Does it never seem absurd to you that people on this little blue-green planet we have evolved through the millennia to share are arguing about where somebody drew lines on a map hundreds of years ago, or whose stories about creation and morals are correct, without recognising that people are just people? Whatever colour of wrapping they come in, or language they speak or whether they believe in a God, and what name they call it makes no material difference to their ability to experience joy or suffering just the same as us. No matter how strange their lives seem, we’d have done the same if born into their community, and they’d be like us if born into ours.

So let us reach out in compassionate and loving ways to those around us, and especially to those showing ignorance or being excluded from our society. We are all in this together.

Thinking about vulnerability and risk

Sometimes you pull on the littlest of threads and the biggest of issues appear at the other end.

Today I have been training in quite a remote location in the Welsh borders. It is the first time in quite some time that I’ve been in a location with no mobile signal. And no mobile signal meant no satnav to find my location last night, and no means to let my husband know I had arrived. I soon found there was no working phone box, and given the late hour there was nobody around to ask directions. And all of a sudden I realised that I was lost, alone and that nobody knew where I was! For those few minutes before I found the hotel, I realised how much I have grown to rely on technology to feel safe and oriented in my day-to-day life. And then I wondered if I felt less fearless before those technologies were so ubiquitous, or whether it is just the absence of a crutch I have grown to rely on that made me feel more vulnerable. After all, what was the real risk?

I started to think about about how we are trained to over emphasise certain sorts of risk (like stranger-danger, or the risk of immigrants on unemployment rates), and to under-recognise others (like the risks to children from exposure to domestic violence, or the risks that so many families face from poverty and discrimination). It seems that the media trains us to be most afraid of the things we have least control over. A cynic might think they want us to have an external locus of control and a certain degree about learnt helplessness when it comes to social issues. Whatever the motivation, the result is that many people go about their lives with little awareness of the risks that I see as the most important in society today – how vulnerable many children and adults are to abuse and exploitation, how maltreatment is normative in certain families and communities, and how interpersonal violence, trauma and abuse can change the path of people’s lives.

One example of risk and vulnerability that has been prominent in the media recently is how the press has turned once again to discrediting victims of abuse who speak up. This has taken several strands. First the media narrative has changed from “survivors of child abuse” to “alleged survivors of child abuse”, sowing the seed of doubt about every person who makes a disclosure. Second politicians are telling their colleagues to withdraw allegations due to loyalty to their party, and trying to shame the brave few who spoke up and asked for multiple disclosures and allegations to be investigated into apologising for maligning a powerful public figure. And third we are repeatedly hearing that those with allegations against them which are dropped by the police or CPS have been “proven innocent” or that victims have “lied” or “fabricated” rather than the more accurate truth of the matter, in which there is insufficient evidence to have a high enough chance of successful prosecution to merit public funds to proceed. The climate of being willing to look into abuse allegations against the rich and powerful, which gained such momentum from the public disgust about how Jimmy Savile got away with such extensive crimes for so long, has turned once again into a climate in which victims feel that the authorities are biased towards powerful and they are not going to be believed. This blog is an eloquent example of that.

Whilst I firmly believe in the principle of innocent until proven guilty, and the need for exceptional reasons to name someone against whom allegations have been made before the case has sufficient evidence to come to trial, we are dealing with a system far more weighted towards false negatives than false positives. Let us not forget that as many as 1 in 5 children are sexually abused, and yet only 15% are able to disclose in a way that leads to a police investigation. That’s the scandal here, not the impact on the reputation of a dead politician.

We need to remember that the victims of abuse are human beings like us who have been failed by society. If all politicians see is demographics and price tags, or characters and plots in which the goody is the one who becomes rich and powerful, then they don’t treat people like people. Recognising human beings and their ability to suffer is necessary to form policy, to offer justice and to be objective in investigations. In fact, that recognition of our common humanity and how people are shaped by their experiences makes you more able to consider that the perpetrators who are too often written off as incurable and evil are mostly people who have been victims themselves and never had the positive learning experiences children need to develop healthily in their own lives.

I think tackling child maltreatment is the primary social problem in the world today. To address this problem we need a multifaceted approach. I believe that if we can prevent child abuse and help people to have secure attachment relationships they will learn to be more resilient, empathic and socially skilled. In time this will have immeasurable positive impact on society. It will reduce crime, addiction, conflict, mental health problems, and even reduce the incidence and severity of many major physical health problems such as heart disease, diabetes and cancer. And interventions to help reduce maltreatment, improve attachment relationships and support children to make an optimal recovery from abuse or poor care are highly cost effective. Every pound spent in addressing childhood adversity through evidence-based interventions is repaid tenfold to the state in savings before adulthood (for example, we know that mental health interventions in childhood can save £83 more per pound spent where issues are prevented or treated in childhood rather than remaining into adulthood). But it doesn’t stop there. These changes continue to make ripples that save costs in health, social care, criminal justice, employment, benefit, and tax spheres for the rest of the person’s lifetime, and then for their partners, children and future generations.

We just need to stop blaming the vulnerable, and imagining risks where they don’t exist, and start trying to solve the systemic problems that make them vulnerable in the first place.

An atheist view on the pope’s speech to congress

I may be an atheist and humanist, but I’m still impressed with Pope Frances compared to prior holders of that office (who I associate with covering up child abuse and prioritising their own power and wealth). In his speech to congress, he covered a lot of important issues.

On international politics and religious fundamentalism:
“we must especially guard against the simplistic reductionism which sees only good or evil; or, if you will, the righteous and sinners. The contemporary world, with its open wounds which affect so many of our brothers and sisters, demands that we confront every form of polarisation which would divide it into these two camps. We know that in the attempt to be freed of the enemy without, we can be tempted to feed the enemy within. To imitate the hatred and violence of tyrants and murderers is the best way to take their place. That is something which you, as a people, reject. Our response must instead be one of hope and healing, of peace and justice”.

On the responsibility of government being to serve the whole population:
“All political activity must serve and promote the good of the human person and be based on respect for his or her dignity… If politics must truly be at the service of the human person, it follows that it cannot be a slave to the economy and finance”.

In relation to racism and refugees:
“Let us treat others with the same passion and compassion with which we want to be treated. Let us seek for others the same possibilities which we seek for ourselves. Let us help others to grow, as we would like to be helped ourselves. In a word, if we want security, let us give security; if we want life, let us give life; if we want opportunities, let us provide opportunities. The yardstick we use for others will be the yardstick which time will use for us.

On poverty:
“in times of crisis and economic hardship a spirit of global solidarity must not be lost. At the same time I would encourage you to keep in mind all those people around us who are trapped in a cycle of poverty. They too need to be given hope.”

On the arms trade:
“Being at the service of dialogue and peace also means being truly determined to minimize and, in the long term, to end the many armed conflicts throughout our world. Here we have to ask ourselves: Why are deadly weapons being sold to those who plan to inflict untold suffering on individuals and society? Sadly, the answer, as we all know, is simply for money: money that is drenched in blood, often innocent blood. In the face of this shameful and culpable silence, it is our duty to confront the problem and to stop the arms trade”.

He also called for more action on environmental issues, referencing his recent publication on this topic.

Finally, in relation to families:
“I would like to call attention to those family members who are the most vulnerable, the young. For many of them, a future filled with countless possibilities beckons, yet so many others seem disoriented and aimless, trapped in a hopeless maze of violence, abuse and despair. Their problems are our problems. We cannot avoid them. We need to face them together, to talk about them and to seek effective solutions”.

As an atheist, this kind of interpretation of religion resonates with me, despite my lack of belief in a deity. Most of all, I admire anyone who uses their platform to speak for the vulnerable and to advocate for peace and altruism. This is a Pope I can admire. A wise man, and one who leads by example. If only he would overturn the church’s negative approach to homosexuality and contraception, I’d feel like he was an all round great man, despite our very different perspectives on the world. This was a fantastic speech, full of insight and compassion. Hopefully his audience, and the world, will take note.

If the bigger picture is too depressing, look at the little picture

Today we learned that we will have a Conservative government for another five years, and I woke up feeling very pessimistic about the world. Clearly there are a lot of people who were swayed by the propaganda churned out by the billionaire owned newspapers, and the scaremongering about whether Scotland would steal English money. This is a sad day for the NHS, which will continue to be fragmented and put out to tender. It is a sad day for anyone dependent on benefits or health and social care services, who will continue to be blamed, stigmatised and treated like second class citizens. It is another five years in which wealth will be leached from the poorest and most vulnerable members of our society and given to the wealthiest and least deserving. So I could have stayed in bed and despaired for the state of the world. But I didn’t.

Today I made a difference person by person through my work. I also gave blood, and hopefully helped a stranger in their time of need. I was friendly to my neighbours and colleagues so that they could be a little happier as they went about their day. I donated to the DEC appeal for Nepal to help a displaced family have clean water. I gave advice to a person I don’t know on the internet to help them get their landlord to repair the hot water in their home. I spent time explaining things to my children and helped them to understand that the decisions that benefit us personally the most are not always the right ones to make when weighed up against the greater good. In other words, I made several small positive ripples go outwards into the world.

I’ve learnt that when problems on a global or political scale seem beyond my reach to influence I have two choices, to let despair immobilise me or to take it as an incentive to action. Today I was able to take the latter path, and I hope that many of you can too.