The True Price of a Whistleblower

The act of whistleblowing is often depicted as a decisive moment: wrongdoing exposed, justice pursued. What is rarely seen, however, is the profound, often debilitating, personal toll it exacts on the individual. John Cleary, an Australian whistleblower who spent years exposing systemic child abuse within the Newcastle Anglican Diocese, offers a raw and candid account of this unseen price. His story reveals that beyond the professional consequences, the true cost of speaking truth to power manifests in deep emotional scars, relentless pressure, and a lingering redefinition of identity.

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The Weight of a Daily Struggle

For John, the decision to confront the entrenched culture of the Newcastle Anglican Diocese meant accepting his role as an outsider. He saw himself distinct from those resistant to change, and this separation was a constant, heavy burden. He describes his experience as a daily struggle.

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While many might have chosen to resign for an easier life, that path simply didn't sit well with him. This commitment to the cause, despite the personal cost, became a conscious, enduring decision. He often questioned if victory was even possible against such a large, resistant organization with so few allies.

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Direct Threats and Deep Fear

The emotional toll escalated into tangible threats. In 2012, just before a Supreme Court matter where John was due to give evidence against two clergy, he received a death threat. He recounts receiving a chilling voice message late one night, conveying a death threat with explicit and vulgar language, stating his days were numbered.

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This explicit threat absolutely rattled him. With two children who had just started school, the fear for his family's safety became paramount. Knowing he had to travel to Sydney to testify, leaving his family in Newcastle, fueled his worry. This moment, occurring five years into his decade-long battle, was a stark reminder of the escalating stakes.

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The Agony of Public Scrutiny

John's personal battles reached an apex during cross-examination at the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse. He admits this was a really hard moment  where he was almost broken. Faced with legal representatives of individuals accused of wrongdoing, he was subjected to tactics designed to "confuse you, make you look like a fool, make you look like you don't know what you're doing". It was an orchestrated effort to create doubt and make their clients appear better.

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He had some experience with such pressures, but not in a Royal Commission environment. This intense interrogation pushed him to his limit, leading to a moment where he did break down in the witness box.

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He thought, "This is it. I'm broken that got me". Thankfully, a brief break allowed him to compose himself and continue. Such moments, he reflects, make one think, "I wish I wasn't here. I wish this wasn't my problem".

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The Lingering Stigma

Even years after leaving the organization, the personal price of whistleblowing continues to manifest for John. He still gets pigeonholed as a whistleblower. This label is not universally seen in a positive light. He finds himself going to endless links to explain to prospective employers that my core role is the CEO, and that whistleblowing was something that, really, happened in the moment. Yet, it "somehow took priority over what my career was when it clearly wasn't my career to do that". This stigma has stuck with him long past his direct involvement.

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The Unsung Value of Support

Despite the immense personal cost, John emphasizes the critical role of support. He and a small group of like minded individuals provided crucial emotional and professional backing. They were not all on the floor on the same day, and would pick each other up off the floor and encourage each other to keep fighting.

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These informal connections – a coffee, a beer – were small but important and the moments that kept them going. He stresses that it can be a lonely and isolating place without that sort of support.

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Finding Closure and Renewed Purpose

Today, John feels a sense of closure. This has come through ongoing sector reform, seeing justice enacted for wrongdoers, and staying in touch with survivors to hear of their well-being. He also finds purpose in building proper whistleblower frameworks in organizations, something he would have deeply wished were there during his time at the Anglican Diocese. He takes pride in the achievements made. He acknowledges that while reform is ongoing, complacency is not an option; cultural vigilance remains critical.

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Advice to Those Contemplating the Journey

John Cleary's journey is a powerful testament to personal sacrifice and unwavering moral conviction. His advice to those considering blowing the whistle is clear:

• Be ready for the journey ahead and be at peace with that. Embracing potential implications sets you free.
• Recognize it as "a very courageous act that many wouldn't. Most would avoid it simply for an easier life.
• Take comfort that reform, practice improvement, and justice "should follow their disclosure.”
• Never ever feel like they're a troublemaker, because they're not.

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His story is a stark reminder that while whistleblowing illuminates organizational failings, its true, enduring price is often paid in the unseen personal battles of the brave individuals who dare to speak up.

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Further Insights

For a deeper dive into the complex decisions and profound implications involved when individuals choose to expose wrongdoing, explore our on-demand webinar. It unpacks "The whistleblower's choice - Risk, responsibility, and doing the right thing," guiding listeners through the critical factors and moral imperatives that define the whistleblower's journey.

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