WHY STEPHEN COTTRELL SHOULD RESIGN AS ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
by Stephen Kuhrt
Quoting Lady Bracknell has become a literary cliché, but her sardonic observation from The Importance of Being Earnest uncannily captures the current crisis in the Church of England. In the wake of the Makin report and Justin Welby's resignation, the statement that to lose one Archbishop ‘may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose two looks like carelessness’ – resonates with uncomfortable precision. Those invested in safeguarding the institution understand that each leadership departure is more than a mere personnel change; it represents a potential unravelling of institutional credibility.
If Stephen Cottrell’s resignation over the David Tudor case follows that of Justin Welby over John Smyth, it will render impossible the Church of England’s attempts to manage this crisis with minimal disruption. Despite bishops' performative rhetoric about ‘cultural change’, their true aim remains preserving the institution with as little structural transformation as possible. The departure of both archbishops would shatter any remaining illusion that cosmetic adjustments can address systemic safeguarding failures.
Welby’s tone-deaf final speech in the House of Lords revealed the true motivation behind his resignation. While he previously garnered a measure of sympathy for admitting some personal responsibility in mishandling the Smyth case, his speech ultimately backtracked. He framed his departure as a noble sacrifice for the Church, suggesting that his personal suffering could atone for institutional failures. His old-Etonian self-deprecation and dramatic declaration that ‘only one head rolls well enough’ conveyed a sense of martyrdom. However, this performance masked a deeper problem: Welby was advancing the case that all the necessary safeguarding reform is already underway with his resignation possessing purely symbolic significance. The speech not only hurt and angered survivors but also signalled a dangerous complacency – that the removal of only one leader in the church – and then for largely cosmetic reasons – was necessary.
If Welby’s resignation is accepted as the only one needed, it will impede meaningful reform in the Church of England. Far from demonstrating genuine commitment to safeguarding, this approach would merely provide a convenient smokescreen, allowing the Church to avoid the comprehensive cultural transformation critically needed. Welby’s resignation was initially presented as an adequate response, but pressure quickly mounted for more resignations. Within a week, Jo Bailey Wells, former Episcopal Ministry Bishop to the Anglican Communion, and Paul Butler, former Bishop of Durham, were compelled to ‘step back’ from ministry. However, the vagueness of this ‘stepping back’ suggests it may be a temporary measure. Like George Carey’s brief exile after his safeguarding failures (now thankfully and voluntarily restored with the surrender this week of his ‘permission to officiate’), there remains a clear possibility these bishops could quietly return to their roles once public scrutiny wanes.
The resignation of the Archbishop of York will be the true test of genuine cultural change. While comparing the gravity of John Smyth’s and David Tudor’s crimes is challenging, Cottrell’s handling of Tudor appears even more problematic than Welby’s response to Smyth. As Bishop of Chelmsford, Cottrell was fully aware of Tudor’s complex history: a child abuse conviction and indeed imprisonment quashed because of a legal technically, a £10,000 payment to an alleged victim, and a ban on contact with children. The difference with Welby over Smyth is the advancement that Cottrell then permitted. Cottrell has protested that it was not in his power to dismiss Tudor as a vicar until further evidence came to light. But he very definitely could have acted in regard other aspects of his ministry. Despite his knowledge about Tudor, Cottrell allowed his role as an Area Dean to continue and his later appointment as an Honorary Canon of Chelmsford Cathedral – decisions that reveal a troubling disregard for survivor protection and genuine safeguarding.
For those unfamiliar with Church of England hierarchies, these positions require clarification. An Area Dean is usually a vicar who has been entrusted with extra leadership responsibilities, including leading clergy meetings, chairing the ‘deanery synod’, and serving as a communication link between bishops and clergy. Critically, an Area Dean is considered a ‘safe pair of hands’ – someone bishops trust to oversee and represent clergy interests. An Honorary Canon is a purely ceremonial title awarded in recognition of valuable ministry. While it carries no administrative authority, it represents considerable symbolic honour within dioceses.
Cottrell’s decisions to leave Tudor in role as Area Dean and to allow him later on to become an Honorary Canon reveal three critical insights. First, they demonstrate a stunning indifference to Tudor’s abusive past, showing no consideration for potential victims or the increased risk posed by granting him positions of trust. Second, they expose the insular ‘episcopal bubble’ where actions and non-actions deemed unthinkable outside church circles are routinely normalized and accepted. These appointments reflect not just poor judgment but a systemic culture that prioritizes institutional convenience over survivor protection.
But third, the roles themselves reveal a deeply problematic dynamic within church culture. The differential treatment of abusers versus victims/survivors of abuse stems from a chilling logic: abusers are invested in maintaining the institutional status quo that enables their actions and so share a great deal in common with those equally invested in this. Survivors seeking justice and whistleblowers, on the other hand, threaten that very system. Abusers strategically seek positions providing credibility and access, grooming communities and key figures to protect themselves and facilitate their abuse. Bishops, eager to maintain institutional stability, distribute honorary titles as tools of control. Though nominally meaningless, the position of Honorary Canon, in particular, holds a deep significance for insecure clergy seeking such status symbols as well as those with more sinister motives of manipulation. What appears to be a simple administrative gesture is, in reality, a mechanism for perpetuating a culture of silence and protection.
Given what he knew about David Tudor, Stephen Cottrell’s actions and non-actions in regard to him speak volumes about the deeply problematic culture that he embodies as much as Tudor. This culture urgently needs to change if genuine progress is to be made in safeguarding within the Church of England.
If Justin Welby’s resignation is perceived as a sufficient response to the crisis in the church’s safeguarding, it will hinder rather than promote the transformative change required. As Lady Bracknell’s words might suggest, losing one Archbishop could be seen as a misfortune from which the Church can recover; losing two, however, will signal as loud as possible the need for root-and-branch reform to purge the Church of England of its entrenched and degenerative culture.
This article was amended after a few hours from its original form (both on 18th December 2024) to acknowledge that David Tudor was appointed as Area Dean under the previous Bishop of Chelmsford, John Gladwin, and continued in that role under Stephen Cottrell from 2010 before being appointed, under Cottrell, as an Honorary Canon of Chelmsford Cathedral from 2015.
Stephen Kuhrt is Vicar of Christ Church, New Malden. He is author of a forthcoming book Safeguarding the Institution: How the culture of the Church of England facilitates abuse.
For more about the author’s personal experience: A tale of two vicars: one exploiting the status quo, the other challenging it.