News

Lord Laming's report into the death of Victoria Climbie is another painful reminder of how things can go wrong when child protection agencies fail in their duties.

We learn once more that warning signs were missed and the tragedy was preventable. Public anger and distress is vented at the workers and organisations who were directly involved and frustrations spill over to accuse professionals of incompetence. The entire child protection system is deemed by some to be in need of radical overhaul.


Child protection tragedies are examined in order to learn lessons and to apply those lessons to the development of good practice guidelines. Indeed we owe it to the children who have lost their lives to learn quickly and act promptly to improve practice. Much energy is directed to scrutinising systems and implementing recommendations. Politicians and organisations plan for the future with the obvious intention of preventing similar catastrophes.

But what do these inquiries do to front-line workers? How are they experienced by social workers involved or holding case responsibility at the time the tragedy occurred?

How does it feel to be faced with the terrible news that must be considered the worst nightmare of any person working in the child protection system?
When a child dies as a result of abuse most professionals would, if honest, admit that it could be a child on their caseload. Even where there is evidence of excellent practice there is no room for complacency. A minority of parents and carers do commit criminal acts against children and most are unlikely to tell social care staff first. Experience suggests that the impact of the death and subsequent inquiry on the lives of front-line workers can be greatly underestimated.

The news of a child's death or serious injury will be received as a shock and workers' reactions are likely to be similar to those of any bereaved person. A worker may have known the child and family well and, in addition to coping with the legal and organisational responses, will be experiencing grief and the sense of disbelief characteristic of bereavement. Into the normal working day comes an event so terrible that routine coping mechanisms are likely to be completely overwhelmed.

While the social worker is trying to absorb the full ramifications of what has happened, it is likely that investigative processes will swing into action in ways that can leave the worker feeling terrified and unable to cope. The worker may be suspended from duty and advised to have no contact with colleagues or others involved in the case. At this point, workers are usually in a very vulnerable state and, whatever the circumstances of the case, do need support.

In the early stages of the investigation it is vital for someone to help worker(s) by making decisions that protect them, their colleagues and service users. Professional representation and advocacy are strongly advised. There is also an obvious need for emotional support for those caught up in the unfolding crisis.

Workers may face lengthy interviews with police and senior social services officers, who may also be affected by the case and may be dealing with their own personal distress but also bearing responsibility for the apparent failure of service delivery within their department. Files are routinely taken as the investigative process gets under way. Despite their central role, social workers report feeling excluded from the investigative processes. Discussions and decision-making may not involve them. Understandably, this increases feelings of fear and isolation.

Many reactions will be common to social workers in this position: distress, fear of of the inquiry and its repercussions, trepidation at the public scrutiny of their involvement and, based on knowledge of previous inquiries, alarm at the media reaction. A tragedy of this scale also means that the normal boundaries maintained between personal and professional life are breached. The worker's family and friends may soon be hearing, through the media, minute and critical detail about the case, often focusing on what the worker is perceived to have done wrong. The most extreme example of this as we know is the accusation that the worker "allowed this child to die".


We know that workers may feel tremendous guilt even if no blame is warranted. They are likely to feel bewildered and isolated and steps taken to protect evidence may compound this. Sadly, normal support systems may become unavailable if the worker is suspended from duty or instructed to have no contact with colleagues.

Consequently, all parts of the worker's life will be affected at a time when they are feeling least able to cope or deal with the reactions of others.

It is understandable that workers faced with such traumatic events are themselves at risk from disciplinary action and from the emotional fallout that the events may cause. They will be emotionally vulnerable and are likely to suffer disruption to normal sleeping and eating patterns. Some may suffer ill health. Relationships are put under strain. Personal safety and security are threatened.

It is not surprising to hear workers say they felt like running away or escaping from the awfulness of the situation. This may become particularly acute if there is widespread media coverage of the case. People have had experiences of press reporters waiting outside their homes or pursuing them and their family. We know that some colleagues have been under siege in their offices or homes.

If we imagine the impact of this on someone who just got up to go to work as normal we can begin to comprehend the enormity of the experience and the need for a sensitive and compassionate response to those concerned.

In many ways we can draw on our knowledge of responses in disaster situations to see how we can help colleagues in these extreme situations. For this is nothing short of a disaster for the child's family and those professionally involved.

However, individuals cope with such crises - and we must recognise the uniqueness of the experience - it is not surprising to find that even very competent social workers report a loss of confidence in themselves and their ability to practise. Some experience a sense that they have the capacity to contaminate others with the trauma. For other social workers there is an overwhelming sense of having let the side down.

Inevitably, life is changed by what has happened and recovery takes time. But much can be done to ease the distress and enable workers gradually to regain confidence.

Historically, front-line social workers have shouldered the lion's share of the blame in child abuse inquiries. Perhaps Lord Laming's report heralds a more balanced attempt at analysis of failures of corporate responsibility. This makes the reading of Victoria's terrible ordeal no less painful but it may help us to appreciate the need to provide appropriate support to staff and to feel some compassion for social workers operating in these very difficult circumstances. They too have suffered a form of personal and professional bereavement. Some will have lost careers.

When children die it is essential that we learn from our mistakes and move practice forward but we must also take care not to ignore the plight of the often forgotten victims, for they, as colleagues, need our help and understanding too.

Janet Foulds is chairperson of the British Association of Social Workers and works for Derby Council social services (children and families). Contact her on 01332 717575 or j.foulds@basw.co.uk