The saga of bullying in Downing Street rumbles on and becomes increasingly complex and arcane, as tends to happen, when the salacious details contained in the original allegations dry up. Mrs Brown tells us how “strong” her husband is. The Chancellor of the Exchequer refers coyly to “robust exchanges”.
Nevertheless, the story itself has the uncomfortable ring of truth about it. Andrew Rawnsley is one of the most respected political commentators of his generation, far too canny – at this juncture of his career - to go into print without being confident that his sources are indeed: “24-carat”.
The story is also extremely plausible: almost all of us has first-hand experience of bullying, whether it was just the lunky guy on the school bus, hassling for your dinner money, or the frustrated colleague, using abuse and coercion because he has rage management issues and has run out of civilised options with which to get his own way.
Trade unions have been quick to exploit the story: according to Unison, more than 30 per cent of workers say they have been bullied in the workplace in the last six months – at huge cost to the economy. Job insecurity, increased workloads and cost cutting due to the current recession are likely to see office bullying on the rise.
Savvy companies now realise it is in their interest to take a firm stance on bullying. Allegations which go to tribunal (200,000 last year, up one third since 2006) can be costly while the concomitant effects on workplace morale and productivity are equally damaging.
I was the victim of an office bully in the mid-1990s, sadly long before the problem was openly acknowledged, let alone tackled sensibly. A new boss, a recovering alcoholic recently returned from an overseas posting, decided he needed to appropriate the tiny enclave of foreign news coverage I was editing at the time.
He was a regular Jekyll and Hyde; one day it would be: “Remind me exactly how much we pay you and what it is you actually do to earn that amount?” The next would be: “Your husband is in Sussex and my wife is in Oxfordshire, so why won’t you come for a drink with me?” This was not, however, sexual harassment. It was naked, unnecessary aggression. I still have no idea what I might have done to attract quite so much cruel opprobrium from one individual. His reaction when I returned to work after the death of my younger brother, Rory, does not bear repetition.
Sadly, I was also caught in the interregnum between two editors, neither of whom seemed particularly willing to involve themselves in my plight. It was not until the NUJ became involved that they woke up. I eventually – and reluctantly – left with a cheque for a year’s money, on the understanding that I did not discuss the exact circumstances of my departure. The bully himself is still at the newspaper, writing a regular column, no less.
The Downing Street saga has prompted a rash of thumb-sucking columns about bullies and bullying. Why do they do it? Feelings of inadequacy on the part of the bully appear to figure highly.
Bullying is also a key element of elder abuse. As older people become more physically frail, they are no longer able to stand up to bullying or defend themselves if physically assaulted. They may also be mentally and emotionally frail, making them literally defenceless against bullying in the many forms it can take. It may not be an excuse but I can now see that one of my father’s key abusers resorted to bullying due to frustration, exhaustion and inability to cope with an infirm, incontinent and not always fully lucid 13-stone man. However, not all of the individuals who conspired to make my father's final months so tortuous had anything like such an excuse.
