Fighting for positive change is our only hope against the shocks and threats assailing us on many fronts, writes BREDA O'BRIEN
I WAS torn between two topics this week. Should I write about the future of the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland, or the grimly urgent need to tackle climate change? The future of a church versus the future of the planet? Surely there should be no contest?
And yet, my dilemma illustrates a problem for climate change activists. Except for the truly committed, almost anything can sweep climate change from centre stage. It does not have to be something as gut-wrenchingly awful as child abuse by clergy. It can be speculation about whether the wife of one of the wealthiest sportsmen in the world really hit him over the head with a golf club.
Why is that? Why do our minds refuse to focus while solutions are still viable, rather than when forced to by imminent devastation? Perhaps it is hardwired into our nature. Almost everyone has heard of the “fight or flight” response to threat, where adrenaline mobilises us to take urgent action.
It is now recognised that there is a third response, which is to freeze. It works fairly well for an impala to go limp in the jaws of a lion, as the lion may be taken by surprise when the “dead” impala takes off when dropped. It does not work quite so well for humans facing frightening situations.
It is absolutely right to condemn church inaction in the face of child abuse, or worse, church action to prevent scandal, which endangered children at the expense of the institution. However, it is harder to acknowledge that we are better at being outraged by scandals that we perceive to be in the past, than we are at tackling crises facing us right now. Take this passage from a government report about child protection. “In addition, it was suggested that colleagues are ‘not comfortable’ reporting on each other, and that sometimes ‘allegations and suspicions of child abuse may not be reported’, thus allowing the behaviour to continue.”
Or this. “It was noted that the Children First guidelines do not make clear what happens when an allegation of abuse is made against a professional, but charges are not brought to court.” This is not a document about the church, but a 2008 Office of the Minister for Children report on the implementation of State guidelines on child protection among professionals and volunteers working with children.
When it was published, there was no outrage that the same mentality which led people to cover up allegations against clergy appears to be still operating today, including in State organisations. With the honourable exception of a few tireless campaigners such as Alan Shatter, the report received virtually no attention. Yet there are many troubling findings, including that “statutory child protection services are perceived as unsympathetic, powerful and intimidating”. Not to mention the discovery last February that 20 children have died in care since 2000 – to which we seem supremely indifferent.
The fact that awful things are happening in other arenas, including that people are still being badly treated when they attempt to report child protection issues, does not take away from the heavy responsibility the church bears for its failure to protect children. But it does show that it is very, very difficult to ensure real change, particularly when we prefer to scapegoat individuals rather than tackle the deeper, underlying problems of governance and accountability.
It might also be argued that the church has been responsible for a further erosion of trust in institutions in a country already distrustful of virtually every major institution. These are not exactly ideal conditions to mobilise people on climate change.
Ironically enough, many faith-based organisations are extremely active on the question of climate change. While the hierarchy of the church may be under siege, church organisations and parishes still have a great deal of respect and influence. For example, among the members of Stop Climate Chaos Coalition, there are a number of faith-based organisations.
The coalition has a talent for eye-catching demonstrations, like the one today in Dublin city centre, where they hope that a wave of thousands of protesters dressed in blue will “crash” against the Department of the Taoiseach at 1.30pm. There will be simultaneous actions in Paris, London, Glasgow, Belfast, Brussels and Berlin, all aiming to show public support for real change to emerge from the crucial climate change talks in Copenhagen that begin on Monday.
10:10 is another grassroots initiative that aims to get people and businesses to cut their carbon footprint by 10 per cent in 2010. Launched by John Gormley in October, it is all pretty painless, with suggestions such as taking fewer flights, cutting down on electricity use, leaving the car at home more, buying and disposing of less junk, and eating more locally sourced food.
Ideas such as 10:10 give people something manageable to do. It reduces the sense of helplessness. It focuses their energy on positive solutions rather than visions of overwhelming disaster.
At the moment, on all sorts of issues, Irish people are experiencing a sense of anger combined with impotence. The fact that people feel betrayed by virtually every institution means that anger at the church is even greater. Despite intemperate calls to ban it entirely, a feat not even Cromwell managed, the church still has an important role in Ireland. It must credibly face up to the challenge, not only of child protection, but of finally moving away from a vision of the church as some kind of clerical club.
When faced with looming disaster, neither freezing nor running away helps, but the route to survival is to fight, in the sense of beginning to implement positive change. That is as true for the church as it is for the possibility of mitigating the worst effects of climate change.
bobrien@irishtimes.com