Violations of Trust

How Social and Welfare Institutions Fail Children and Young People

Richard Hil, Judith Bessant, Judith Bessant

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781351875776
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Social Policy
• Index: Politics & International Relations

The past few decades have brought to light increasing evidence of systemic and repeated institutional abuse of children and young people in many western nations. Government enquiries, research studies and media reports have begun to highlight the widespread nature of sexual, physical and emotional abuse of vulnerable children and young people. However, while public attention has focused on 'episodic-dramatic' representations of institutional abuse, comparatively little emphasis has been given to the more mundane, routinized and systemic nature of abuse that has occurred. This book documents comprehensively a full range of abuse occurring in 'caring' and 'protective' institutions, with particular reference to the Australian case. The dominant theme is 'betrayal' and in particular the ways in which agencies charged with the care and protection of children and young people become the sites of abusive practices. The authors draw on a range of theoretical frameworks to explore issues of trust and betrayal in the context of the professional and ethical obligations which workers have to those in their charge. The authors argue that it is not sufficient merely to report on accounts of institutional abuse or the consequences of particular practices; rather it is necessary to locate the prevalence of institutional abuse in the wider context of institutional practices as they relate to the 'governance' of particular sections of the population.

Chapter 1
Power and Knowledge: The Making and Managing of the ‘Unfit’

Susanne Davies

Introduction

Violations of trust are not confined to institutional settings, nor are they perpetrated only by people who occupy positions of professional authority and status. Acts of violence and sexual abuse that are perpetrated most often by men against women and children within private homes, for example, remain alarmingly common. They are so common that, more often than not, they are treated as mundane rather than newsworthy, as ordinary rather than unacceptable. In much the same way, violations that occur within institutions often pass unrecognised and without comment. It is only the most overt instances of exploitation, abuse or neglect on the part of preachers, teachers and doctors that make for eye-catching headlines.

Variations in the degree and manner in which these different forms of violation are represented suggest that differences exist between them. This, however, may merely be illusory for violations of trust, irrespective of where they occur and whom they involve, are fundamentally products of broader power relations. Indeed, their incidence might be understood as a barometer of inequality; an inequality that is grounded in the complex relationship that exists between power, knowledge and social practice.

In order to illustrate this, one need only consider the pivotal role that scientific methods and knowledges have played in the production of modern social relations. Their effects have extended far beyond laboratories and textbooks. Indeed, the unquestioned but nonetheless questionable assumptions that have formed the basis of much scientific inquiry in the past, like the ‘facts’ that such inquiry has produced, have today ascended to the status of common-sense and ‘truth’. Paramount amongst these is the notion that some people are biologically or psychologically less ‘fit’ than others and, that by virtue of the difference ascribed to them, they are inferior. The aim of this chapter is to illustrate how this notion, and its manifestation in policies and practices, has legitimated and facilitated the disempowerment of particular groups of people and rendered them vulnerable to professional and state intervention. Within institutional settings and beyond, it has underpinned the development and deployment of invasive and often demeaning regimes of management and ‘care’. Before explaining this history further, however, perhaps it is useful to begin with a current example that illustrates this complex process and its effects.

Sterilisation

In 2001, Australia’s Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission released a report on the sterilisation of girls and young women in Australia (Brady, Briton and Grover 2001). Jointly commissioned by the Sex Discrimination and Disability Discrimination Commissioners, it was the second report in four years to highlight the fact that girls and young women with disabilities continue to be sterilised in the community in contravention of legal processes that are intended to safeguard their rights and well-being.

In Australia, as elsewhere in the Western world, sterilisation has a long and problematic history. In the late nineteenth century, it emerged as a practice keenly advocated by those who were worried that the poor, non-white, ‘diseased’ or ‘deficient’ might procreate rather than perish. Well into the twentieth century, persistent demands that progress and purity of stock be protected found practical expression in the sterilisation of those deemed dangerous or undesirable. Whilst in popular memory, Hitler’s fascist regime has come to be closely associated with sterilisation, it remains largely and some might say conveniently forgotten, that from the late nineteenth century well into the twentieth century, sterilisation was also commonly practised in more liberal nations, including the United States, Great Britain and Australia. In 1927, the eminent American Jurist, Oliver Wendell Holmes, summed up the views of many when, in the landmark Supreme Court case Buck v Bell, he delivered a judgement that supported both the practice and principle of compulsory sterilisation by the state. Holmes began his opinion with the following assessment of Carrie Buck, the woman at the centre of the case, and then followed it up with a justification as to why she should be sterilised:

Carrie Buck is a feeble-minded white woman who was committed to the State Colony ... She is the daughter of a feeble-minded mother in the same institution, and the mother of an illegitimate feeble-minded child ... It is better for all the world, if instead of waiting to execute degenerate offspring for crime, or let them starve for their imbecility, society can prevent those who are manifestly unfit from continuing their kind ... Three generations of imbeciles are enough (Buck v Bell, 274 US 200, 207).

Despite the certainty of his tone, Holmes’ judgement was based upon very shaky grounds. As Stephen Jay Gould has so eloquently argued, the crude scientific testing that supposedly proved the feeble-mindedness of Carrie Buck and her mother Emma was far from objective. It measured intelligence according to a yardstick that could never accurately measure human worth, nor take into account in any way that was empathetic the unique circumstances and experiences of these women (Gould 1984: 17; Gould 1997: 176-221). Carrie, for example, had indeed been admitted to Virginia’s State Colony for the Epileptic and Feeble-Minded, however, why she had been sent there had little to do with her intelligence. At a young age, she had been placed in foster care and had lived with her foster parents without incident until being raped by a relative of theirs. Carrie had fallen pregnant as a consequence of the rape, had been blamed for the pregnancy and, as was often the case, in an attempt to save herself, her foster parents and the perpetrator from shame, had most likely been sworn to secrecy. Having examined her case in detail, Gould is of the view that Carrie Buck ‘was sent away to have her baby. Her case was never about mental deficiency; it was always a matter of morality and social deviance’ (Gould 1984: 17). Given a context in which blame was readily attributed to the vulnerable, Gould has argued that it is hardly surprising that Carrie’s child, at the age of just seven months, should also have been judged by a social worker to be feeble-minded. As he puts it, ‘who really cared if Vivian was a baby of normal intelligence: she was the illegitimate child of an illegitimate woman. Two generations of bastards are enough’ (Gould 1984: 17). Despite this alternative explanation for the fate of Carrie Buck, the judgement in her case paved the way for the use of sterilisation in the institution where she had been confined. Over 4,000 sterilisations were to be performed at the State Colony in Virginia, the last recorded case occurring in 1972. This figure relates to only one institution in one state of America and thus represents only a fraction of the total number of sterilisation’s that took place in that countryduring this period (Gould 1984: 16).

In Australia, the advocates of eugenics policy were no less vociferous than their American or English counterparts, but most often emphasised the virtues of segregation rather than sterilisation of the ‘unfit’ (Garton 1988: 60). Nonetheless, the sterilisation of women and of young girls including those who had not yet commenced menstruating was able to be authorised by a legal guardian or by parents (Chenowith 1997: 29). Due to a lack of historical record, it is impossible to know just how many sterilisations were performed in Australia during the twentieth century. However, anecdotal evidence suggests that in regard to young women with physical or mental disabilities the practice was certainly not uncommon. Whilst in the 1970s, government policies began to advocate greater use of education and contraception, and pointed to the possibility of disabled people to exercise choice in matters relating to their sexuality and health, the practice of sterilisation persisted. In the early 1980s, Rosemary West, a psychiatric superintendent of a large institution for people with an intellectual disability in Australia, wrote:

I am intrigued by the fact that vast numbers of operations are continually being performed on adult retarded people on the consent of their parents or next of kin (this includes many sterilisation operations and also includes hysterectomies, sometimes on pre-pubertal children) (Goldhar 1991: 174).

A 1989 Family Court case involving a 14 year old intellectually disabled girl provides some insight into the issues that were and still are often raised in relation to sterilisation. In delivering his ruling that the family rather than the courts should decide whether or not the child is sterilised, Justice Cook canvassed, and indeed appeared sympathetic to, a number of justifications commonly given for resorting to such a procedure. Menstrual management was one such issue. As he put it:

It is obviously a matter of concern that a woman, whether young or old, may well suffer distinct embarrassment and emotional trauma if, unable to manage menstruation, sudden bleeding takes place in a public, or even private, situation. Our society is full of taboos, and attitudes and perceptions about menstruation is not the least of such taboos (Graycar and Morgan 1990: 313).

The highlighting of ‘menstrual management’ in this case, as in others, resulted in the girl’s loss of reproductive capacity being positioned as a secondary issue; as a mere by-product of the intended intervention. It was a consequence that Cook acknowledged but depicted as being largely irrelevant based upon expectations of the child’s future life. Even more disturbingly, it was hinted that the loss of reproductive capacity might afford the girl some form of perverse protection. To quote Cook again:

This case is not a ‘sterilisation’ case although it is clear that the removal of the uterus will have that effect ... [I]t is understood and accepted that the child would never marry or enter into any relationship in which she would bear children ... [I]t is unlikely that she will have any form of relationship involving sexual intercourse. She could, of course, be the victim of a sexual assault and with her normal physical development and attractive looks that cannot be discounted (Graycar and Morgan 1990: 312).

In 1992, the High Court of Australia took a somewhat different position, ruling that the Family Court should oversee decision-making in respect to the sterilisation of minors. It determined that sterilisation should still be allowed, but only in the child’s best interest, and only after alternative and less intrusive strategies had failed, or where it was certain that other procedures were destined to fail (Secretary, Dept of Community Services and Health v JWB and SMB, 1992). In New South Wales and South Australia, state laws had earlier empowered Guardianship Tribunals to authorise the sterilisation of children, whilst Guardianship Tribunals in all Australian states held jurisdiction in respect to the sterilisation of adults with impaired decision making abilities (Brady, Briton and Grover 2001: 10). Currently in Australia, sterilisation remains possible; however, it is deemed illegal if performed without the approval of a relevant legal body.

From the time of the High Court ruling in 1992 through to the end of 1998, a total of 39 applications relating to the sterilisation of girls aged between 10 and 17 years were received by the Family Court and the New South Wales and South Australian Guardianship Tribunals. Of these applications, 27 were approved, 8 were not approved and four were withdrawn (Brady, Briton and Grover 2001: 27). Such statistics, however, do not reflect the actual number of sterilisations that are performed. Inconsistencies and deficiencies in official methods of data collection, together with the secrecy that surrounds acts of illegal sterilisation, make it difficult to determine the exact extent of this practice. Nonetheless, it is largely accepted amongst commentators that a discrepancy exists between the number of sterilisations that are authorised and the total number that are performed. Estimates of the size of the discrepancy range from tens, to hundreds, to more than a thousand (Brady, Briton and Grover 2001: 15-20). The 2001 report that was noted earlier indeed suggests that such procedures continue to be commonly performed in the community, without legal authorisation, and generally at the instigation of parents. This is a proposition that is supported by anecdotal evidence provided by a broad range of individuals and groups, including disability service providers, community and parents groups, medical professionals, health and community workers, and young women with disabilities. As one worker in the disability field has recounted:

I know very few women with an intellectual disability who have children ... Women will turn up after being away for a couple of weeks. Stories of having your appendix out, needing an operation. You know that they have been sterilised, but you can’t say anything about it. I have heard that some of them get taken to Southeast Asia to get it done (Chenowith 1997: 30).

Science and the Making of the ‘Unfit’

In order to understand the incidence of illegal sterilisation, and indeed sterilisation in any form, it is necessary to look beyond both the dynamics of individual families and the requirements of legal processes. While these factors are no doubt relevant, they nevertheless do not explain what makes sterilisation imaginable, possible and indeed in some instances it seems, desirable and actionable. The explanation for this lies instead in ideas and practices that have developed over centuries and which have been pivotal to the rise of the modern therapeutic state.

At the heart of the issue lies the supposed identification of innate human differences and the value, or to be more precise, the lack of value, attached to such differences. The designation of fundamental human differences began during the Enlightenment, when the attainment of rationality came to be exclusively associated with men of the upper and educated classes (Lloyd 1984). In turn, it was these men and their successors who, through the supposed exercise of rationality and its expression in scientific method, attributed difference and inferiority to those unlike themselves. Women and the poor, like those of different races and abilities, were harshly judged when measured against a yardstick that assumed normality to be white, male, able-bodied and middle-class.

The emergence of Darwin’s theory of evolution in the mid-nineteenth century, and its subsequent adoption by social commentators and experts in a range of nascent fields including psychology, sexology and criminal anthropology, both attested to the growing power of science, and paved the way for future explanations of difference. By the late nineteenth century, empiricism and Social Darwinism had combined in scientific investigations that utilised the methods of phrenology, craniometry and later still, IQ testing. Framed by the context in which they were produced, these investigations more often than not set out to prove that those who were not of the norm were fundamentally different from, and for the most part irretrievably so, from those who were. Not surprisingly, such investigations, either as a consequence of design, or in some cases overt manipulation, eventually yielded findings that supported the assumptions and propositions that had framed them in the first place. Through relentless observation and quantification, evidence of the constitutional differences that supposedly set some individuals and groups apart from civilised society was gathered and documented. Within the interpretive framework of Social Darwinism, toes that were too large, like misplaced lumps, awkward mannerisms and unanticipated answers to culturally-loaded questions, took on a further meaning. Rather than simply being regarded as indicators of differences amongst people, they were interpreted as evidence of the fundamental unfitness of some. Thus a crude hierarchy of human worth was established.

By the late nineteenth century, in Australia as in Britain and the United States, the fear that one generation of ‘defectives’ would give rise to another commonly found expression in the words of experts who were charged with the responsibility of overseeing problem populations. In 1897, for example, W.L. Cleland, who was the resident medical officer of the Adelaide and Parkside Lunatic Asylums, pointed to the mutually shared and inherent failings of habitual law-breakers, the chronically insane and the endemically unemployed. In all three groups, he argued:

Everything is below par. There is a want of spontaneous effort to initiate action and a lack of the power of steady application. Thought for the future is impossible, and a hand-to-mouth existence is all that is practicable. It is evident that in not any of the three can it be said that there exists a healthy mind in a healthy body (Cleland 1897: 7).

For some, the innate unfitness of such groups was seen as requiring drastic and immediate action. In 1893, H.K. Rusden told the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science:

[T]he lives of criminals, lunatics and idiots...