Savile enablers like the BBC still exist – abusers must be called out

When accusations of abuse in the entertainment industry are reported in the news, there often follows a familiar pattern of responses. As the details emerge, there is the initial shock along with expressions of either denial or regret from the perpetrator. Then come the statements from the institutions in which they operated, saying that lessons have been learnt and that it can’t be allowed to happen again. Such assurances may be meant sincerely, but it’s hard not to lose faith. This is because the stories of abuse just keep on coming.

This year brings the most bitter of anniversaries. In October it will be 10 years since the death of Jimmy Savile, and nine since the world learnt that the DJ, presenter and BBC stalwart was also a paedophile and rapist who used his exalted position to abuse hundreds of young adults and children.

It was only after Savile’s crimes came to light that the media became fully au fait with the term “hiding in plain sight”. In retrospect, it all seemed so obvious, though it wasn’t merely a case of rumours and red flags. Savile’s employers, colleagues, associates and even members of his family knew what he was doing. Yet still he was able to continue.

In the new documentary, Jimmy Savile: The People Who Knew, we learn that his activities were essentially an open secret. Savile raised millions for charity, via marathons, telethons and auctioning off his belongings; his philanthropy, along with his cartoonish eccentricity, proved the ultimate smokescreen for his crimes. With his power and standing, he calculated that his victims would be reluctant to talk – because who would believe he was anything but a saint?

His tireless fundraising also allowed him direct and unsupervised access to vulnerable children. He volunteered as a porter at Stoke Mandeville Hospital, and was given an office at Leeds General Infirmary, as well as a bedroom at Broadmoor. He also visited children’s homes, among them Duncroft in Surrey, a school for girls with mental health problems, where he was able to take children out on day trips in his Rolls-Royce. One pupil who was abused by Savile said he treated Duncroft “like a paedophile sweet shop”.

Among the individuals and institutions that turned a blind eye to Savile’s activities, perhaps the most shocking was the BBC, where Savile presented Jim’ll Fix It and Top of the Pops. Both shows allowed him close contact with children. Senior figures in the corporation heard the stories about him but were unwilling to act; junior employees witnessed his predatory behaviour first-hand.

In 2011, immediately after Savile’s death, two Newsnight reporters began to investigate the stories of abuse, interviewing victims, BBC employees and a former police detective. Their report was scheduled for broadcast in December 2011, but was cancelled on the basis that it would interfere with the shows planned to celebrate Savile over the Christmas period.

Nowadays, we have a greater understanding of how sexual predators operate. It is also broadly understood that institutions and industries have a duty of care. With this in mind, one might look at today’s entertainment business and think it a better place than in Savile’s day.

In 2017, scores of Hollywood actresses bravely revealed the trauma and abuse they had suffered from Harvey Weinstein, and justice was eventually served. But the fact is that it took 80 women to put this one man – among the most powerful in the entire film industry – in jail.

When 46 women launched criminal proceedings against “America’s dad” Bill Cosby for drugging and assault, culminating in a guilty verdict, it seemed they had slayed a giant. But in June this year, Cosby’s conviction was overturned on a legal technicality by Pennsylvania’s supreme court. Having served a little over two years of his sentence – set at between three and 10 years – he now walks free.

This year has brought yet more accusations of men using their power to abuse and control women. Singer Marilyn Manson faces claims of physical and sexual abuse by four women, including his former partner, the actor Evan Rachel Wood – allegations that he denies; the actor and producer Noel Clarke has been accused of bullying and sexual harassment by more than 20 women (he also denies the allegations). TV producer Charlie Hanson also faces accusations of coercion and abuse by 11 women who spoke to The Times (he denies the allegations).

That the public response has been overwhelmingly one of sympathy for the victims is heartening; it is less so that institutions appear to have failed to act. Clarke, a high-profile figure in the film and music industry, received an honorary Bafta for his contribution to British cinema earlier this year. The organisation confirmed it had been made aware of some of the accusations prior to the ceremony. Lessons learnt? I don’t think so.

Predators don’t operate in a vacuum. We know from the cases of Savile and Weinstein that power creates a protective wall around abusers and harassers. Exposing this kind of behaviour in any industry isn’t straightforward, but it starts with putting systems in place for it to be reported and taken seriously, and treating victims with compassion, not suspicion. Enablers often regard themselves as innocent and powerless parties, when they are, in fact, assisting in the cover-up. This, too, has to stop.

It is nine years since we learnt the grim extent of Savile’s crimes. We tell ourselves we live in different times, and that it couldn’t happen now, but the stream of accusations in recent years paints a different picture. There will be more to come. It is up to the industry not just to listen, but to act.

‘Jimmy Savile: The People Who Knew’ is available to stream on Discovery+ from 7 August