Confessions of a (potential) charity whistleblower: mission statement

Hi there.

I work for a charity. I have been proud of the work I’ve done. Recently I have heard ever-more troubling allegations, as well as witnessing behaviour that I do not believe to have been acceptable.

Aware of some of the more outlandish tales of goings-on at the organisation — not unknown for the sector but these stretch beyond the limits of what is normal even for those with a wealth of related experience… — my friends have been saying that I should write about these.

Though I considered this it didn’t quite feel right; this feeling strengthened as the situation became not just shambolic, but much murkier. (Going right to the top and concerning alleged behaviour which may well be criminal.) It seemed a bit of a limbo: I knew too much to be comfortable saying nothing, but at the same time possess far too few verifiable facts to publicly state anything.

I have felt stuck. Until now.

It only occurred to me earlier a few days ago to focus more precisely on this very uncertainty. To keep a diary that hinges upon not knowing what to do, never mind how to do it. To write about a wealth of closely related subjects that others reading may be able to identify with. About the discomfort. About those innocent employees that I will hurt if there are revelations which could potentially wreck their careers. About the feeling of complicity while I continue to be employed and work under those that I believe to be corrupt. Indeed, about those whose actions seem to be utterly reprehensible. And especially about the charity which does tangibly amazing things yet could disappear if truths about disreputable elements of it emerge — does its protection merit hushing up behaviour by those who would then go unpunished? And may then be able to wreak havoc elsewhere?

With that in mind, I began mulling over the best approach to detail these subjects and more, at the same time as I am weighing up the very practical implications of what it would mean for all those around me and many others if I become a charity whistleblower. It made immediate sense to use anonymity to protect those others, the charity, and myself (at least for the moment), while affording the ability to delve into issues and tap into an experience which I have realised isn’t unique, even within my charity. As it turns out there are others already way ahead.

This was before the weekend’s news; first with the horrific reports of Oxfam paying for sex in Haiti after it was devastated by an earthquake, then with the follow-up in the Sunday Times which revealed 120 workers in the charity sector have been accused of sexual abuse.

Does it make any intended journal more relevant? Perhaps. My particular circumstance feels entirely different in some regards, not so much in others. And it’s massively alarming. Have vulnerable people been exploited thanks to a lax culture symptomatic to the charity sector — one that I’m currently complicit in? Also, watching the scandal engulfing Oxfam — and the damage it’s already inflicting on an organisation which has done an immeasurable amount of tremendous life-changing and life-saving work — thoughts about how any headline-grabbing leaks and disclosures would affect the place I work for were also on my mind. There’s a significant chance that the charity wouldn’t survive, and if it didn’t then people in future who would have depended on its help may die. Suddenly it’s not just a blithe “what if” puzzler to ponder over Sunday brunch. The potential cost feels disarmingly real.

However, if there’s ever a time to act it’s now, and the more I consider that the more determined I become. I’m unsure where that determination will lead us. Perhaps to something hugely significant, but perhaps it could just fizzle out as I’m sure it has for others with the best intentions? I do know that I want to be part of something that has a positive impact, just as I did when I first took on a position within the charity sector. Quite how far that goes, we shall see.