The Wardman Wire

‘Bulimia’: the normal image conjured up is of an emaciated model or troubled teenager, not a rounded 69 year old Northern bloke with a taste for pies and official buffets. John Prescott’s revelation that he suffers from bulimia overturns most of our stereotypes about who suffers from what. Brave man. I was going to say you have to admire his guts, but that’s starting to conjure up some unpleasant pictures….

If I Tell You, I’ll Have to Kill You

It’s far easier to admit to a problem if you can do it anonymously. Like eating disorders, self harm, which up to 1/3 of teenagers have tried, is one of those private, secretive things which is hard to admit to. Jon Birch’s blog has given people space to do that this week online. This is one of the upsides of false identities on the internet, giving us space to admit to things we’d never share with people we know.

Having a safe space to admit to being wrong, or being in a mess, is a basic human need - both for ourselves, or, in the case of the 10p tax relief, admitting we are wrong for the benefit of others. We used to call it confession, a valuable practice which got tarnished by the fact that most people left their sins in the Tardis-shaped box in church, then went out and committed them again. Confession at its best is a place where we own up to what we are, to what we have done, and face unpleasant facts.

It’s made harder for public figures by the fact that the media pack pile in and cry ‘U-turn! U-turn!’, or ‘ner, ner ne-ner ner’ to use the school playground version. A culture of gloating and one-upmanship is an unforgiving place to confess. Media attitudes make it harder for politicians to admit to being wrong.

If Truth Be Told

Facing the truth about ourselves, and what we’ve done, is best done in a supportive community. This is a practice developed in a brilliant way by Alcoholics Anonymous. The 12 steps of AA, familiar more to pop stars and press officers than the general population, opens with this uncompromising statement:

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable.

it gets better:

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

It’s Alright Darling, I Know Where I’m Going

All the men reading this are now skim-reading frantically. We don’t do God, and we don’t do ‘getting it wrong’. If we’re lost, we just keep driving.

The idea of systematically writing down every character flaw we have, well, most of us would rather enjoy a sit down meal with John Prescott. But the fun is just starting:

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

As well as being the basic plot of My Name is Earl, this was also the process followed by the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and is a principle of the Restorative Justice movement (see here for how this is working in one Taunton school). It’s a myth that sin is a solitary activity, most of us have a history of broken promises, disappointed friends, wasted chances and worse.

History Repeating Itself

Trouble is, most of us will be the same people tomorrow as we are today, and were yesterday. So we’ll carry on making the same messes unless we change. Or as poet Steve Turner put it: “history repeats itself, it has to, no-one listens”. So:

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

A Recovery Programme for Life

As a spotty youth I worked in East London with alcoholics, and realised that the 12 steps were more than a recovery programme. They made a great rule of life. If you lived by these principles, then there wasn’t a much better path to personal maturity and character. It’s a tough path, with no short cuts, and requires a level of honesty and stickability that might look frighteningly high. But most alcoholics are desperate enough to have a go, and the 12 steps have yet to be bettered as a recovery programme.

And here’s the sticking point: though we’d all become better people if we followed the 12 Steps, most of us wouldn’t even think about it unless we became desperate. As with climate change, so with personal change - we need to be right on the brink before we’re motivated enough to do anything.

Or as Morpheus put it: “You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Remember — all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.”

Wrapping Up

It’s time to rescue the practice of confession - the oldest “talking cure” or all. It’s not about an oppressive church keeping the whip hand over miserable sinners. It’s about learning healthy habits of honesty and change. Eating disorders affect a small percentage, living disorders is something we all struggle with. And we shouldn’t struggle alone.

So if you’ve nothing else to do this weekend, try this: admit to something.