Almost a third of people in state and faith-based institutions between 1950 and 2019 were abused, the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care has found, describing it as a “disgrace” and a “stain” on the national character.
The commission’s report released to the public today said that would remain so if the “gross violations” and injustice are not addressed.
The report spans 15 volumes, printed weighs about 14 kilograms and contains a mammoth 138 recommendations.
Its executive summary stated leaders in those organisations were charged with nurturing, protecting and helping people flourish, but “failed in their duty”.
The inquiry began in 2018, a year after the then Labour-led Government agreed to establish it.
Children, young people and adults were exposed to “unimaginable physical, emotional, mental and sexual abuse, severe exploitation and neglect”, abuse and neglect widespread, the report said.
“Any abuse and neglect, let alone the prevalence of it, could not be justified by the standards of the day and certainly cannot be justified now.”
Rights guaranteed under te Tiriti o Waitangi and human rights were “ignored and overlooked together”. Of the estimated 655,000 people in the institutions over that time, it was estimated 200,000 were abused and even more neglected – the true number, it said, would never be known due to a lack of records or records being destroyed.
“It is a national disgrace that hundreds of thousands of children, young people and adults were abused and neglected in the care of the State and faith-based institutions. These gross violations occurred at the same time as Aotearoa New Zealand was promoting itself, internationally and domestically, as a bastion of human rights and as a safe, fair country in which to grow up as a child in a loving family.
“If this injustice is not addressed, it will remain as a stain on our national character forever.”
‘Pervasive’ abuse and neglect – especially for Māori
The report found abuse and neglect was “pervasive”, and almost always started from the first day a person was placed in care and continued the entire time they remained in it – for some it meant years or decades of frequent abuse and neglect and “for others, it led to an unmarked grave”.
Babies were left in cots with no hugs, physical interaction or expressions of care. People were denied basic necessities such as enough food or suitable clothing and some had no privacy when bathing or using the toilet.
Māori were particularly targeted, it said, experiencing harsher treatment – and for disabled or takatāpui (Māori rainbow communities) it was often even worse. Māori and Pasifika people were denied access to their cultural and linguistic identities, something described as “cultural neglect”. Deaf people were denied sign language and blind people denied braille.
Staff went to extremes to inflict “as much pain as possible using weapons and electric shocks”, and peer-on-peer abuse was encouraged and ignored.
Sexual abuse was commonplace, with abusers grooming children, young people and adults, and when people disclosed abuse they were often not believed. Some sexual abuse was used to punish and intimidate, and some people in care institutions were trafficked to members of the public.
Women and girls were also routinely tested for sexually transmitted infections, including forced degrading internal examinations. Some medical checks were used as an opportunity for sexual abuse.
Solitary confinement was also used as a form of punishment, and in disability or mental health institutions, some survivors were locked away with little or no access to toilets or water.
Survivors were also forced to do long hours of physical labour and working with little or no pay, or their pay was stolen by staff.
‘Out of sight, out of mind’
The circumstances that led people to be placed in care institutions were often the very reason they were especially vulnerable to abuse, the report said. That included being deaf, disabled, in mental distress, and in poverty.
Being Māori, Pacific, and/or from rainbow communities was also a factor, as well as a deferential attitude to authority in New Zealand society.
Those people took advantage of their positions of power, the report said, and were “skilled at exploiting the gaps and failures in the care system”.
It found the State was ultimately responsible for the people in its care and instead of addressing social and cultural needs, it placed people in punitive, segregated and isolating settings “where they were out of sight and out of mind”.
Those in care were “devalued and dehumanised” by society, allowing abuse and neglect to be justified by those who wielded power, and making to easier for people in care to be “ignored and forgotten” by the country at large.
Successive governments and public service leaders failed to keep people safe from harm and hold abusers to account, it said.
“People with military backgrounds were assumed to be appropriate to care for children, young people and adults, and many brought with them a culture of command and control, punishment, physical violence and verbal abuse.”
Those who did on rare occasions speak up about abuse were “not believed, snubbed or moved on”.
Very few care institutions had complaints processes. When there were processes, complaints were “very often” not believed or not followed up, senior leaders seeking to protect their own reputations or the organisations they represented.
“Many abusers were relocated and went on to continue abusing people in care elsewhere.”
The impact on survivors
The report was clear that abuse and neglect had lifelong impacts on survivors, including death, either in care or by suicide afterwards.
Psychological effects from being placed in care and being “told that no one loved them” were also reported.
“This has profoundly impacted how survivors view themselves and others and how they understand the world. It has impacted their ability to form stable, secure, and nurturing relationships, to find and keep jobs, and fulfil their potential.”
Some job opportunities were impacted by the denial of education, it said, while others were too traumatised by abuse and neglect to learn.
“Violence was so embedded in care settings that some survivors became numb to it. Others became abusers themselves. For many survivors, [it] was their introduction to crime and it led them to prison.”
Others remained institutionalised today, while others went from prison to psychiatric care due to anti-social behaviour, substance abuse and ongoing mental distress, it said.
It also affected their health and ongoing well-being, such as the impact of injuries made worse by lack of treatment, or being triggered by sounds, tastes and smells which reminded them of the abuse. Self-harm, thinking of suicide and attempted suicide featured in their lives, and substance misuse was common.
The ‘cost’ of abuse and neglect
The report said there were profound individual and social costs as a result of abuse and neglect in care, as well as an economic cost.
The average lifetime cost for a survivor was estimated to be $857,000 per individual and, based on the estimated number of people abused and neglected in care between 1950 and 2019, the total cost estimate was between $96 billion and $217 billion. Most of that had been borne by survivors, not taxpayers, the report said.
Survivors repeatedly called for justice for decades, the report said, but those please were “unheard, disbelieved, ignored or silenced”.
“Their experiences were minimised or dismissed, and they were told abuse and neglect in care was not systemic.”
When recognition was given, it was “often piecemeal, insincere and fell short of … fair redress”.
Political and public service leaders spent time, energy and taxpayer resources to “hide, cover up and then legally fight survivors”, the report said.
Faith leaders also fought to cover up abuse, it said.
“Survivors were right to call for an inquiry. There has been widespread abuse and neglect in state and faith-based care, which has had a devastating personal and multigenerational impact on survivors, their whānau and society as a whole.”
It said attempts to deny survivors their voice and “defend the indefensible” must stop.
Apologies, redress recommended
The report had 138 recommendations.
The first was to implement a new system and scheme in charge of redress processes. The scheme – Puretumu Torowhānui – would be an independent Crown entity.
The next was for the Prime Minister to make a national apology for the historical abuse and neglect in the care of the State. The apology recommendation came with several criteria, including that it was developed alongside a representative group of survivors, and include apologising to those who had died and were no longer able to share their experiences, as well as to specific groups including Māori, Pacific, disabled and rainbow survivors.
It also recommended the most senior leaders of faith-based institutions should make public acknowledgements and apologies to survivors, including the Pope, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the General of the Salvation Army, and the Overseeing Shepherd of Gloriavale.
Public sector bosses were also asked to apologise to survivors, as were leaders of professional bodies such as the Medical Council, Nurses Association and Teaching Council.
There was a call for reviews of street names and public amenities named after proven perpetrators of abuse in state and faith-based institutions.
Police were asked to open or re-open criminal investigations where there were reasonable grounds to believe that torture or cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment had occurred in institutions.
Another recommendation was that survivors of abuse and neglect in care were compensated, which included reforming the ACC scheme to provide tailored compensation for survivors.
It also recommended an investigation into unmarked graves at the sites of some institutions, to amend the Crimes Act to specifically include disability within the definition of “vulnerable adult” and implementing a set of care safety principles aimed at preventing and responding to abuse and neglect in state and faith-based institutions.