The Telegraph’s podcast claims that there are secret lists of sexual abusers and that they should be disclosed to the authorities and to lawyers representing the victims.
by Massimo Introvigne
Article 5 of 5. Read article 1, article 2, article 3, and article 4.
“Call Bethel,” the Telegraph’s podcast is structured as a crescendo leading the audience to the most sensational revelation of them all. It is alleged that the Jehovah’s Witnesses maintain in several countries “secret databases” with the names of all their members who have been accused of sexual abuse. We are told that they refuse to disclose them to the authorities, with The Telegraph implying that if they did so they would save countless potential victims.
In fact, the podcast argues that it is not the authorities only who may have a legitimate interest in obtaining these lists. It presents as a hero an American lawyer who managed to subpoena the lists for his country, included in cardboard boxes, although under a protective order he was not authorized to exploit them for chasing potential victims, and ultimately had to give them back pursuant a settlement.
This makes for an exciting story: secrets, sex, and mysterious boxes that include “the truth” but whose content cannot be revealed. As every good story, there are villains, i.e., the Jehovah’s Witnesses who do not want the truth to be revealed, and a hero, the American lawyer who explains that “there are emotional benefits for victims in fighting their abusers in court.” What benefits, emotional or otherwise, there are for the lawyers, who in American sexual abuse cases often work on contingency and pocket the largest parts of the damages, is not explained.
While entertaining, the story is not exactly new, as similar references to “secret databases” have been made by American media in the last few years. But what are these “secret databases,” exactly? Are they a strange peculiarity of the Jehovah’s Witnesses only?
Several years ago, with other scholars, I was asked by the Holy See to participate in a closed-door conference and give advice on the plague of sexual abuse of children by Catholic priests. One of the suggestions we made was to establish a database including all credible accusations of sexual abuse of minors raised against Catholic priests throughout the world, and keep it with the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in the Vatican. This suggestion was incorporated in 2011 in the same Congregation’s “Guide to Basic Procedures in Cases of Sexual Abuse.” In fact, the centralized database was aimed at solving the problems of priests with a past of abuses who moved from one country to another, hoping that international communication between bishops would not work perfectly and their old sins will not be known in their new diocese.
The database in the Vatican is obviously confidential and is not shared with lawyers, journalists, or even secular authorities. Perhaps The Telegraph can call it “the secret Vatican database of sexual abusers.” However, when it was created, it was generally acknowledged by experts in the field that it served a useful purpose, and its introduction was applauded rather than criticized.
This Catholic example helps, once again, to put the question of the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ “secret databases” in context. The same valid reasons for centralizing the information about credible reports about sexual abuses in the Catholic Church in one office in the Vatican also apply to the idea of having reports about allegations of sexual abuse among the Jehovah’s Witnesses collected and indexed, at least nationally, in one central location rather than leaving them at the level of local congregations only. We live in times of mobility, and information would surely run a higher risk of being lost, forgotten, or not made available to those who need to know it if it remained at the local level.
The useful purposes of such records include checking the background of those proposed for certain positions within a religious organization, or confidentially warning congregations where somebody who has been accused of sexual abuse moves from a different location. There are, however, purposes for which these records are definitely not intended. They include allegations that, if reported, have been taken seriously, but are not necessarily true. If the content of these lists would not be kept under lock and key, it may ruin the reputations of some unjustly accused and cause enormous suffering. Of course, in the hands of greedy lawyers or unscrupulous journalists it may also cause a fishing frenzy without regards whether the allegations are true or false.
The Telegraph’s podcast clearly aims at creating the impression that if these “secret databases” would be shared with the police, and even the lawyers, instances of sexual abuse could be prevented. In fact, as it happened in the Australian Royal Commission case, the Jehovah’s Witnesses when summoned by proper authorities did share their local lists. In Australia, this happened in 2017, and the Royal Commission reportedly forwarded 551 names to law enforcement. Five years later, in 2021, American scholar Holly Folk noted that “over the past five years, we have not seen in Australia a massive wave of arrests and prosecutions of Jehovah’s Witnesses, as it should have happened had the Royal Commission ‘discovered’ a substantial number of ‘hidden’ cases.” We can only guess what would have happened if the 551 names had been leaked to the media.
The Telegraph’s indignation at the existence of the “secret databases” is based on a confusion. Where there are mandatory reporting laws, the Jehovah’s Witnesses and anybody else have a duty to report allegations of sexual abuse they become aware of to the secular authorities. Whether or not they also report these allegations to their national headquarters through what they call forms S-77 has nothing to do with the duty of reporting them to secular authorities. The two matters are separated and different. Sending forms S-77 to branch offices is an internal ecclesiastical procedure. As I have argued, the procedure is indeed useful to protect potential victims but even if it wasn’t, as long as it complies with local laws on privacy, it is something secular authorities have no business interfering with. As far as England and Wales are concerned, questions based on media reports were raised by the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA). The Jehovah’s Witnesses explained their document retention policy, and the IICSA had nothing to object.
The sensational “secret databases” appear less sensational when examined more closely, just as the cases presented by The Telegraph appear slightly different when the actual court decisions are read. The only possible conclusion is that The Telegraph’s podcast was a biased presentation of a number of serious issues, using almost exclusively hostile sources and aimed at damaging the reputation of Jehovah’s Witnesses. Clearly, all victims of sexual abuse deserve our sympathy and support. But so do religious minorities that are victims of slander, stereotyping, and generalizations.