On 'From Lament to Action': the Archbishops' Anti-Racism Taskforce Report
Earlier today, the Archbishops’ Anti-Racism Taskforce, set up in 2020, released their long-awaited report 'From Lament to Action', providing recommendations to the Church of England for combating racism and promoting racial justice. Fr Jonathan Jong provides commentary on this report.
I will not spend much time articulating why Christians should care about issues surrounding racism and racial justice: it is simply an obligation of love among a people whose identities have been relativised in Christ, in whom “there is neither Jew nor Greek”. In this sense, the Christian concern for racial justice is just a specific case of her concern for justice, about which doubt would be absurd given the biblical witness.
What particular outcomes our concern for racial justice entails is somewhat less obvious. This is going to depend on what the specific goods are that we are aiming for. For example, elsewhere on this website, Jarel Robinson-Brown discussed reparations for slavery in terms of the pursuit of truth: it is a part of the Church’s own repentance, which—to borrow Tridentine language—involves contrition, confession, and satisfaction. This theme of repentance—from the sin of racism more broadly—is also a dominant one in From Lament to Action. The other dominant theme is a focus on mission, and the opportunities afforded by an ethnically diverse Church or—to put things negatively—the opportunities missed by an ethnically homogenous one. The recommendations in the report are to be interpreted in terms of repentance and mission, and not dismissed as moves toward, say, diversity for diversity’s sake. We could argue over whether Christians should care about ethnic diversity for its own sake, but fortunately, we don’t have to today.
What specific actions we should take is even less obvious, and the Anti-Racism Taskforce has boldly taken on the difficult task of speaking to this question. Their recommendations are difficult to evaluate a priori, certainly in terms of efficacy: I am therefore encouraged to see that better data collection and collation is a key part of their recommendations. The report calls for the collation of existing diversity data (Participation #3, p. 22); the on-going monitoring of recruitment processes (ibid.) and proposed anti-racism training programmes (Education #7, p. 41); and demographic audits of theological colleges (Education #8, p. 35), CofE schools (Education #6, p. 34), and governance structures (Structures & Governance #3, p. 49). Critically, this information will eventually allow us to evaluate how effective various measures are. Besides the practical impact of better data collection, it is obviously a move toward truthfulness, which is a good on its own right: the publication of data is particularly important in this regard (e.g., Participation #8, #10, p. 26).
The vast majority of the Taskforce’s proposals have to do with increasing representation of “United Kingdom Minority Ethnic / Global Majority Heritage” (UKME/GMH; henceforth, I am going to abbreviate this to ME) at various levels of CofE leadership. Some context is needed before we look at these. About 14% of the population of England and Wales are not White; the Taskforce also cites William Nye’s estimate that ~15% of CofE churchgoers are from ME backgrounds. In contrast, only ~4% of current stipended clergy come from ME backgrounds [NB: These are based on incomplete data—about a quarter of clergy do not report their ethnicity—but we don’t have better data, so they’ll have to do.], though ~9% of current ordinands do (Footnote 13, p. 13). More concretely, that’s about 240 ME stipended clergy and 125 ME ordinands. Many of the Taskforce’s recommendations look to the 15% figure, and I can understand why: they want CofE leadership—including senior leadership, at Diocesan and national levels—to reflect the faithful. I share this goal: specifically because I believe—partly based on social psychological research on the contact hypothesis—that representation is crucial to reducing racism, though it is certainly no panacaea. But I also want to be quite sober about the relationship between the total number of ME clergy and the number of those in senior leadership.
For example, according to the Taskforce (Footnote 13, p. 13), ME clergy make up ~4.5% of bishops and ~3.6% of deans and archdeacons: this may underrepresent churchgoers but not clergy, from which deans, archdeacons, and bishops are selected. To me, the more worrying figure is the one about stipended clergy. When the CofE first started publishing ministry statistics in 2011, 2.8% of clergy were from ME backgrounds: this means that there has been a 1% increase in the intervening decade. More troublingly, the number of ME incumbents has lagged behind the number of ME clergy more broadly: for example, in 2012, 4.9% of curates were from ME background, but 2016 only 3.2% of incumbents were. That year, 5.2% of curates and associate priests were of ME background: the 2019 data do not distinguish between curates and incumbents, so I cannot track the more recent transition from curacy to incumbency. So, although the increasing ethnic diversity among ordinands is rather encouraging, the 2012-2016 comparison suggests a bottleneck somewhere between theological colleges and parish incumbencies. Furthermore, as recent reporting has shown, many of the egregious cases of racism in the CofE are inflected upon ordinands and junior clergy: consider the experiences of Jarel Robinson-Brown (mentioned above), Augustine Tanner-Ihm, Peterson Feital, and Michelle Delves. And yet, curiously to my mind, the Taskforce does not focus on the transition to parish incumbencies, opting instead to attend to senior leadership positions. This is is a missed opportunity.
That’s enough complaining about what we didn’t get. What we do get is a slate of recommendations for increasing ME representation in senior leadership. The Taskforce’s main tool here is the imposition of quotas. It recommends, for example, that General Synod co-opts 10 ME candidates as members by November 2021 (Participation #1, p. 21); that 30% of the next Strategic Leadership Development Programme (SLDP) cohort to be from ME backgrounds (this works out to 20 candidates; ibid. #4, p. 23); that shortlists for senior clergy appointments (e.g., bishops, archdeacons, cathedral deans and residentiary canons), include at least one ME candidate by Sept 2021 (ibid. #7, p. 25); that 15% of Bishops’ Councils members be from ME backgrounds by Sept 2021 (ibid. #15, p. 28; NB: these comprise both lay and ordained members; see also #8, #9, #13, #14 for other leadership appointments); and that targets be set for 2030 that 15% of members of governance teams at all levels (from PCC to General Synod) be from ME backgrounds (Structures & Governance #5, p. 50).
Quotas are controversial, and although they have been shown to be effective in some contexts in conjunction with strong enforcement mechanisms, they are not effective in others: indeed, in the UK context, it has been argued that voluntary targets may be more efficacious here—for cultural reasons—than mandatory targets. [This is from research—this will make some people cringe—about gender diversity on corporate boards.] This is not to say that quotas should not be attempted, but continuous monitoring is going to be especially important if so. Regarding the specific quotas, it is difficult to evaluate how feasible they are in general. But consider, for a moment, the requirement for 30% of each SLDP cohort to be from ME background: this is 10x the proportion of ME individuals among all stipended clergy. Furthermore, 20 ME candidates is about 8% of all current stipended ME clergy. Similarly, consider the requirement to shortlist at least one ME candidate for every senior clergy appointment. Estimating from the appointments made since 2015, ~28 bishops, deans, and archdeacons are appointed every year. Assuming that we only want to put any given ME candidate through the rigamarole of the appointments process once per year—I would certainly not want to be put through more than that—that would require more than 10% of stipended ME clergy to go through this process each year. On the assumption that the newly invited SLDP cohort will not immediately be shortlisted for senior leadership positions, these two proposals would have ~18% of all ME clergy in the senior leadership pipeline. Add to this the proposed co-opted roles—five clergy to General Synod, one cleric from each region to attend the House of Bishops, one non-residentiary canon (in certain dioceses, depending on demography), one member of Cathedral chapter—and we’re going to have some very busy ME clergy. Are these figures unrealistic? I suspect so, but I admit that I just don’t know: and that is itself a problem with quotas, especially when there are so many specific ones.
My alternative proposal for increasing ME representation in any position builds on two of the Taskforce’s existing recommendations. The first is the data collection and collation effort mentioned above. The second is the reinvention of the Committee for Minority Ethnic Anglican Concerns as a standing committee of the Archbishops’ Council. I propose that CMEAC 2.0 also serve a consultative role for clergy appointments, including incumbencies. Senior appointments committees would be required to consult with CMEAC 2.0, whose responsibility it is to be well-informed about the availability and suitability of ME candidates. Other appointments committees—e.g., for parish incumbencies—would be required to notify CMEAC 2.0 of vacancies, and the latter may make recommendations. Candidates recommended by CMEAC 2.0 should then be invited to apply. This mechanism may work alongside quotas, and might make them more effective, but it can also work without a quota system. It also speaks to cultural differences in people’s willingness to put themselves forward for senior positions: similar differences in willingness to self-promote have been identified between men and women. [NB: This may be seen as a specific version of the point about consultation in Participation #6, p. 24.] And if there are to be quotas, the categories should be larger (e.g., combining the non-residentiary canon and cathedral chapter quotas).
The Taskforce’s third major strategy has to do with training and education. For example, those involved in appointments are to undertake training on anti-racism (Participation #5, p. 23, #11, p. 27; Training & Mentoring #3, #4, p. 39) as are other clergy, readers, diocesan staff etc. (Training & Mentoring #9, p. 42; Young People #6, p. 46); introductory Black Theology or Global Perspective theologies are to be made compulsory in training institutions (Education #4, p. 33); and ‘reverse mentoring’ of Diocesan Bishops by ME clergy/laity (Training & Mentoring #1, p. 38). I certainly agree that training and education have their place in instigating change: but I am not at all confident that we know what this training and education should look like. The situation I am very keen to avoid is the situation regarding unconscious bias training (UBT). Like many institutions, the Church of England has poured a lot of money and time—often the time of ME individuals—into designing and delivering UBT. But it doesn’t work, as measured in long-term changes to behaviours and outcomes for people from marginalised groups, whether ME individuals or women. So, if there is to be anti-racism training—and especially if there is to be mandatory anti-racism training—it should be drawn from existing programmes with demonstrable efficacy, and its effects should be monitored closely (as implied in Training & Mentoring #7, p. 41). This means that we have to be clear about what we want this training to achieve, so we can design it accordingly and also work out how to evaluate it. For example, if we want to prevent racially-motivated violence—on the rise of late—we might want to consider bystander intervention training, which has even found to be effective for preventing sexual assault and harassment. Its use in preventing racist behaviour is still relatively recent, so we would want to collect data on that.
The suggestion to mandate Black or Global Perspective theologies at theological colleges is likely to concern some readers of this website for a variety of reasons. The first is that this may come at the expense of other content, believed to be more important. This is not a silly concern, but I think it is a premature one. It is not obvious to me—I trained in 2012-2014—that everything I was taught at theological college was essential, such that it could not profitably be replaced by greater attention to Black and Global Perspective theologies. Theological colleges will have to think carefully and critically about their curricula to incorporate this material, but this seems par for the course, given how quickly curricula change anyway. The second concern is about the specific content of these theologies, especially their association with political ideologies such as Marxism. This is a silly concern. Theological colleges are not exclusively in the business of teaching normative content: they are also in the business of exposing ordinands to diverse viewpoints to serve a diverse Church. Consider, for example, the way biblical studies is taught: we do not tell ordinands exactly how to interpret specific passages, but expose them to various hermeuntical principle and outcomes. Even when we teach doctrine, we may well insist that such and such a view is orthodox, but we also inform ordinands about various theological controversies. Black and Global Perspective theologies are now major movements in contemporary theology, and should be taught as such. Nor should clergy be left ignorant about, aspects of the history of the Anglican Communion that raise challenging moral questions, such as about colonialism and slavery. After all, most Christians agree about the importance of history, and we certainly agree about the importance of thinking about morally challenging things.
That said, I don’t know if the mandating of specific modules is the best mechanism for diversifying the theological curriculum, even if the specific modules in question will be at the discretion of the different theological colleges (this was not clear to me from the report, but mandatory modules are currently mostly determined at this level and not, for example, by the Common Awards framework). My preferred strategy is the admittedly messier and more complicated one of ensuring that questions about racism are raised in various parts of existing curricula: the Taskforce might see this as part of “diversify[ing] the curriculum” (Education #4, p. 33). For example, if there are any biblical studies courses at theological colleges that neglect postcolonial hermeneutics, they should already be embarrassed: perhaps not as embarrassed as those who resisted teaching historical criticism well into the 20th century, but still. Similarly, courses about the history of Anglicanism should include information about colonialism and slavery, as mentioned above. And Church of England ordinands should certainly learn about the history of Anglicanism, and indeed about the Anglican Communion more broadly: I say this as a priest from Malaysia, selected in New Zealand, and ordained in England, you understand.
The fourth major category of proposals are new posts and organisations. For example, a new Racial Justice Directorate (Structures & Governance #1, p. 48); a reimagined CMEAC as mentioned above (ibid. #2, p. 48); full time Racial Justice Officers (RJOs) for every diocese (ibid., #4, p. 49). Given the scope of the proposals, especially at national level, new national-level positions do seem necessary, especially—as I argued above—as a repository of information and a consultative body. I am less sanguine about mandatory full-time RJOs for every diocese, for three reasons. The first is that not every diocese will need a full-time RJO for demographic reasons. The second is that in demographically very White dioceses, this role will likely place additional burdens on ME individuals: this is exacerbated by the other roles ME individuals are expected to play according to the Taskforce, and exacerbated further still if the RJO is expected to be ordained. Third, in the interest of intersectionality, I would prefer a plan in which multiple diversity issues are considered simultaneously: a centrally funded Diversity Officer (DO), with a broader remit, may be better placed to fulfil this role. I understand the concern that different individual DOs might prioritise different concerns to the exclusion of concerns about race, but accountability and reporting mechanisms can be put in place to avoid this.
My commentary certainly does not consider all the different proposals the Taskforce has made, but on my reading of the report, these are the major strategies to be considered, both in the sense that they are the most important and in the sense that they are the most difficult or controversial to implement. The Taskforce should be applauded for its work: it has obviously been a Herculean task. I am particularly grateful for the consultative process the Taskforce enacted, in which I participated: I felt heard, which means even more to me than I expected. I hope that this report does not suffer the fate of its predecessors, languishing ineffectually in file drawers. Certainly, I will do my part to ensure that doesn’t happen. +Justin, +Stephen, godspeed: and you know where to find me.
