Sometimes, as parents, it feels like we’re screaming into the void. We see the dangers. We sense the threats, and with every ounce of our being, we try to protect our children. 

But what happens when the very systems meant to help us, the agencies and professionals we are told to trust, "turn a deaf ear"? 

What happens when institutional indifference, bureaucratic delay, and lack of trauma-informed practice leave children more vulnerable, not less? 

As someone who is deaf, I can live without sound. But the silence I encounter is not just physical. It is institutional. The most dangerous kind of deafness is not about ears, but about minds: the refusal to hear, acknowledge, or act.
 
Under Section 17 of the Children Act 1989, local authorities have a statutory duty to safeguard and promote the welfare of children in need within their area. That includes protecting children from harm, emotional neglect, and exposure to unsafe environments.

But too often, these statutory duties are narrowly interpreted or inconsistently applied, particularly in complex family dynamics involving post-separation abuse.

I have written before about parents struggling to maintain contact with their children, only to face obstruction from systems unable or unwilling to distinguish between high conflict and coercive control. In many such cases, labels like “high conflict” are misused, masking deeper safeguarding concerns like parental alienation, coercive parenting, or emotional abuse. These children are not merely "in the middle" of a dispute. They are living in manipulated realities and high-risk conditions that meet the threshold of significant harm under Section 31 of the Children Act.

A Tale of Two Authorities

Local authority responses vary drastically.
 
Local Authority B, for example, I am sure will say they are not perfect, but there is an observable commitment to listening, engaging, and learning from mistakes. Officers in Area B’s police force are often visible in the community, trauma-aware and attempt to create interventions that match the need, and explain procedures clearly to both adults and children. These are principles that echo the Working Together to Safeguard Children (2018, updated 2023) guidance, which calls for a child-centred approach and collaboration across all safeguarding partners.

Now contrast that with Local Authority A, where decision-making appears dismissive and mechanistic. In Area A, it often feels like practitioners are on autopilot, operating under pressure but without proper supervision or reflective practice. While professionals here may themselves be unsupported, it is ultimately the children who are failed.
 
Take, for instance, a mother who repeatedly tried to report domestic abuse through Police Force A, reinforced by Local Authority A who said they could not take her concerns directly, as an adult. Her concerns were repeatedly dismissed. When the abuse was observably being repeated to her children and professionals, those earlier ignored reports had already disappeared into a bureaucratic black hole. That same police force was recently criticised by His Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary and Fire & Rescue Services (HMICFRS) for systemic safeguarding failures, particularly in cases involving vulnerable children.

“Just Ignore Each Other”: When Authorities Minimise Harm

 In the same particularly troubling case, two female officers from Police A returned an overwhelmed child trying to make sense of poor local authority planning, to their mother with a casual instruction: “Just ignore each other for a few days.”
 
This child had already experienced Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) including exposure to domestic violence, time in foster care, and prolonged instability. According to both the NICE Guidelines on Child Abuse and Neglect (NG76) and The Children and Social Work Act 2017, responses to children exposed to trauma should be informed, holistic, and centred on the child’s emotional wellbeing.

Instead, the system offered a soundbite on the end of months and years of poor planning and neglect.

The mother, despite exhaustion, remained calm and took over the role the system abandoned: rebuilding trust, modelling safety, and creating connection, core elements of any trauma-informed approach.

But the situation escalated further.

That same child was later stabbed. The child disclosed fears around the circumstances and people involved to the mother. When the mother approached Police A again for help, she was told the force had already “discharged their duty” by speaking to the father, a man with a documented history of aggression and contempt for law enforcement. The authorities again overlooked the parent consistently working to protect the child.

This is a failure to apply the Threshold Document for Children's Social Care which states that all allegations or indicators of significant harm must trigger robust, multi-agency responses, not tokenistic, checkbox exercises.

When a Criminal Becomes the Protector

Then came the most unimaginable moment.
 
A man, let’s call him Bert, was a known figure in serious organised crime. The child had run errands for him in the past. Bert was later convicted of murder and sent to prison.
 
In desperation, as threats escalated, the child reached out to Bert on the inside and asked: “Can you make it stop?”
 
Bert replied: “Give me half an hour.”
 
Within 30 minutes, the threats ended.
 
This child, failed by the very services meant to protect them, turned to a criminal for safety, and the criminal delivered.
 
This is the result of institutional neglect. When safeguarding partners do not collaborate, do not act on disclosures, or do not assess risk holistically, they create the conditions for exploitation to flourish. The child may now feel indebted to a man who trafficked in violence and manipulation. That sense of obligation could pull them further into risk.

When Silence Becomes Survival

 So I ask:
 
What happens when a parent does everything possible to prevent harm, only to be ignored by statutory services?

What happens when agencies, by omission or delay, make criminals look like the only source of protection?

When should a parent stop trying to work with services that refuse to act?

When does silence become the only way to survive?

If these questions make you uncomfortable, they should.
 
Discomfort is the first step toward professional curiosity, the kind that Working Together describes as essential to effective safeguarding. But discomfort is not enough.
 
We must go further.
 
It is time to move beyond procedural compliance and toward meaningful, accountable action. It begins by listening, truly listening, to the voices of those who never stop fighting for children, even when the system already has.
 

#exploitation #coproduction #engagement