Jimmy Savile wandered where he wanted for decades through hospitals at all hours of the day and night, leaving behind a catalogue of pain and abuse. He could have been stopped. He should have been stopped.
His celebrity awed some, while his bullying, dominant personality frightened others. His fund-raising skills were seen as useful by Margaret Thatcher’s government who “feted” Savile.
Illustrating Savile's influence, UK health secretary Jeremy Hunt pointed to the lead role he was given in 1980 by ministers to create the National Spinal Injuries Centre at Stoke Mandeville.
Savile had no experience in construction, but he delivered it on time and within budget, though the BBC broadcaster “became an ever increasingly difficult and trouble-making influence at the hospital”.
Neither Savile's bullying conduct, nor, as it quickly emerged after it opened, the centre's financial precariousness damaged his influence. Extraordinarily, the opposite occurred, the report from barrister, Kate Lampard records.
“There was a dependence upon Savile’s charitable funds for the next twenty years which ensured his continued position of power and influence at the hospital which was often detrimental to service management,” she writes.
Even more extraordinarily, Stoke Mandeville’s financial problems prompted the need for a whole new group of charity volunteers. Savile seized the opportunity to abuse many of them, she continues.
“People thought that he would be able to bring a lot of money to the table, and that he would “walk” - that was the word used by the civil servants - if any bureaucratic obstacles were put in his way,” Hunt told MPs.
In short, Savile's ability to abuse depended on the same ingredients that abusers — be it priests, teachers, scout leaders, or a swimming coach in Ireland, or elsewhere - have relied on eternally: influence and power, and the right to be left unchallenged.
In Britain, the question was whether a successor to Savile could operate in the same unhindered way. Undoubtedly, the answer is no. In Stoke Mandeville, ten complaints — most of them informal ones — were not acted upon, for example.
Today it would be difficult to imagine that a litany of questionable conduct — one where Savile was routinely called “a sex pest” by nurses - could remain unchallenged for so long, but new risks have emerged, particularly on telephone-captured video and social media.
However, dangers still exist. The National Health Service (NHS) has many qualities, but it does not encourage speaking truth unto power. Even in recent years, staff have paid a high price for speaking out of turn.
Hunt says it “is much less likely” that a sexual predator like Savile could operate today, but has rejected calls that all volunteers in hospitals should have to pass full safety vetting rules.
He argues that hospitals should be able to rely on “local common sense and vigilance” for others.
Hunt is not convinced that staff should be required by law to report problems, even suspicions, but accepts there should be “proper, strong incentives” on staff to do so.
“However, we also want to avoid the unintended consequences that might follow if legislation were badly drafted. It is particularly important for us to protect the ability of professionals to make judgments based on their assessment of what is actually happening,” he said.