The recent disclosure that the much-loved Pope John XXIII issued instructions in 1962 to every bishop on the planet to keep sexual crimes and misdemeanours committed by their clergy “the strictest secret”, “under the penalty of excommunication”, is not really shocking for those who have observed the way the Church has had to be dragged kicking and screaming into public accountability.

The culture of secrecy was, and is, obvious. Evidence that the culture was enforced from the very top should not really surprise us either. The Church has had centuries to perfect the art of bolstering up its institutional authority and image – its “brand”. It is interesting, however, that the proof has emerged showing that it was a conscious decision to conceal, rather than what most people supposed was a collective unspoken understanding not to embarrass Mother Church or expose it to scandal. Indeed, the Nolan Review on Child Protection in the Catholic Church in England and Wales, which was published in 2001, was not aware of this directive, and I imagine the tenor of the report would have been far more critical and damning if it had been.
From God to Mammon: the International Monetary Fund, without whose approval no struggling economy can attract foreign investors, imposes its absolutist conditions on governments in complete secrecy. According to George Monbiot, when Hungary was on its knees it was issued stringent take-it-or-leave-it directives by the IMF, of which the Hungarian public knew nothing. The years that followed resulted in wholesale destruction and sale of the country’s infrastructure.
Indeed, the Hungarian economy only recovered when the government plucked up the courage to stray off the prescribed course of strict monetarism and austerity, cut some slack, and allowed some growth. None of this was or is debated at the time – the most vital decisions a country can make in its history, how to get out of recession, are not debated openly, due to the stranglehold the unaccountable IMF has over world capital.
In this ever-changing world, the goals for a better society keep on moving, and we have to change our way of thinking to see where the flaws are in our society, and to work to improve them, learn from them. Old cycles of change have to be let go, for example the capitalism/communism polarity.
Our relationship to power itself has to change. As it stands, politics is in disrepute, and therefore democracy is in danger, especially in the warmongering countries of the US and UK. Increasingly, power is being drained away from politicians to the multinationals anyway, as trade deals are struck removing ethical considerations from new developments such as GM technology.
Even in politics, the preoccupation with brand over principles, image over values, is corroding the institution from the inside. New Labour, largely brought into being by the marketing skills of one Peter Mandelson, is the result of this brand-consciousness – and Mandelson freely uses the word “brand” on his website, about his politics, the “third way”.
This may be homophobic of me, and as a gay man some say I should show loyalty to my fellow queers, but Mandelson’s legacy is corrupt and dangerous, and it speaks volumes of the nature of the man’s values that, to this day, the BBC can’t mention that he’s gay. His private life is not to be discussed; the essence of his political stance is a secrecy around how decisions and policies are made – a concentration on what policies are marketable through focus groups and polls, rather than what people actually voted for in manifestos.
Interestingly, the decision to go to war against the wishes of the majority of the electorate only serves to demonstrate how thin the New Labour commitment to progressive/liberal values was in the first place, how Blair really hankered after the power that Thatcher wielded.
Ever an optimist, I am watching how the mechanics of power in Westminster are being revealed now, in the Hutton enquiry. I believe this to be an extraordinarily healthy process, and a very important time for politics, as the spin apparatus is dissected. David Kelly’s death shall not be in vain, for the only way that power can be wielded cleanly is if it’s done transparently. When everything is laid bare, the petty jealousies and the obsessions and the bravery and the foolishness, that is when we get to know what sort of people run the country, by what principles.
I have a fantasy that democracy and politics will regain its appeal if those making decisions do so under the full unstinting glare of the cameras, a sort of Big Brother in reverse. The servants of the people are the ones who must subject themselves to 24/7 exposure. That means the meetings, the backroom chats, the nods and winks, everything. We take control of their “brand” away from them. Naturally, if national security or trade secrets are being discussed, then the sound of birdsong masks their voices.
The advantage of this not-so-insane scenario is that, through Big Brother and other reality TV shows, we have grown accustomed to the ordinariness of people on screen, when they’re bored, and boring, how they relate, what matters to them. They are as far removed from the grandstanding and autocue-prompted style of politicians as possible. We need to see politicians as ordinary people, we need to rob them of the mystique of power, wrestle it if needs be from their grubby paws.
It has its flaws, but reality TV shows people, warts and all. We need to see our politicians’ warts. We cannot allow them to keep them secret. It is essential to keep democracy alive, that we consciously deconstruct politicians’ false personalities, strip away their spin-machines, and recognise their humanity and acknowledge their mistakes and gifts. It’s too late for the Catholic Church. But never too late for politics.