Facing a ‘Pandemic’ of Sexual Abuse

I have also been reading around the idea of myth and story as part of my work on the book that I am writing. The most recent reading has been a popular text on the history of fear, and it is in the context of this book that I have found myself placing the current language around sexual abuse within a wider historical context.

Among other things, the author of the book is aiming to show how moral panics are often associated with fear and with horror. He goes back to the Middle Ages and on through the Elizabethan era, the Restoration, Revolution and Romanticism. It is, however, the section on the Victorians that forms my starting point. In dealing with Alistair Crowley, the author highlights how the shock of sexual license and sadomasochism underpinned both Crowley’s life and his writings. Crowley was set apart as a person who had rejected the civilized norms of society and had embraced ‘evil’. He was, however, portrayed as a unique and particularly depraved individual. The fact that he collected to himself a series of disciples and, perhaps more importantly, proved to be a very popular and widely read author was often overlooked. Evil and sexual depravity was constructed at the time as the province of specific individuals, it was not recognised as being widely present within society and the very idea that ordinary, decent, Christian individuals would get some kind of thrill from reading about such depravity was never really questioned.

Jump to the middle of the twentieth century, leaping over several other examples that the author dwells on, not to mention the impact of two world wars, the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the Holocaust, and we arrive at the sexual liberation of the 1960s. Another report on the radio referenced a programme investigating the work of those who advocated for sexual relations between men and boys in the 1960s and in subsequent decades. The emphasis in the programme is on the damage that was done by these campaigners and, as with the contemporary grooming gangs, the language was one of horror and condemnation. There was, however, a strong movement in the 1960s that saw sexual liberation as something that included children. Recent reports in France, where this was particularly prevalent, have clearly shown the damage such a position led to for the children involved, often against their will. At the time, however, this was a sincerely held position with a strong moral philosophy behind it.

Later in the century, to get back to horror and fear, we had the Satanism scares where whole communities were vilified as potential hotbeds of satanic rituals, complete with child abuse and even child sacrifice. Much of this was ultimately rooted in hysteria and fanned by media reports. These were the classic examples of moral scares that emerge from time to time and, in hindsight, are often seen to be baseless, or as having far less substance than the media at the time gave them credit for. I can clearly remember when the first reports of grooming gangs in Rotherham and elsewhere began to emerge, some in the media immediately put these down to another ‘moral scare’. This had nothing to do with racism, it was a classic case of having heard the cry of ‘wolf’ once too often. Race probably did have something to do with why the situation was not investigated as quickly or as thoroughly as it might have been, and it has since become very clear that these examples are far from the baseless moral scares of some earlier examples.

It has probably been the case that a significant number, maybe even a majority, of men fantasise about violent sexual engagements, or even sex with minors. In most times these fantasies are not acted on. It takes a level of social permission, or opportunity, to take this further. The example of the Pelico trial has shown that, if given permission (although not from the woman in this case), then a surprising number of men will act out their fantasies, and the internet is another element that makes this possible. The evidence from the police, however, tells us that the majority (just over 50%) of sexual assaults on minors are perpetrated by other minors, and here the internet and social media must be looked to for an explanation. However, a significant number of the rest, including among the 3% that are carried out by grooming gangs, are within the family. This is probably as it always has been, although that should not tempt us into inaction.

To talk of a ‘pandemic’ of child sexual abuse, however, suggests that there is something new out there and begins, once again, to suggest the moral panic of late twentieth century, or even of the accusations against Cowley, painting the situation in the gaudy colours of ‘evil’ and ‘depravity’. It is a rhetorical statement that almost appears to undermine what it is trying to achieve. I do not know whether there is more sexual abuse against young people today than there was at earlier periods, perhaps that is not the issue. The role of the internet and social media have certainly changed the context and the form in which such abuse takes place. Simply labelling it as a ‘pandemic’ however is not going to lead us to solutions, it cannot really get us beyond the moral horror and fear that the book I am reading expounds so well. I am not entirely convinced that safeguarding is the answer either. That might be necessary, but it feels too much like the kind of surveillance that Foucault warns us against to be entirely helpful.

What society needs is a change in culture, although perhaps not in the way we expect. Exactly what this would look like, and what it would take to get us there (education?) I am not entirely sure. I just feel very uneasy with where we are now and still baulk at the language of fear and of horror as used by so many, especially in the media, when talking about these issues.