THE tide of horror just keeps rising higher and higher. I wonder where it will eventually stop – if it will eventually stop.

I’m contacted now with dreadful regularity, sometimes hourly, by survivors alleging abuse in boarding schools across Britain. Their words echo from all corners of the UK, it seems, recounting the terrible, unimaginable crimes they say they suffered in childhood. Their pain is overwhelming. Their anger profound. Their demand for justice, rightly and necessarily, irresistible.

For some time now I’ve been investigating abuse at boarding schools. The investigations have centred on Loretto, Scotland’s oldest boarding school, but that’s only the tip of an enormous and dreadful iceberg. Reports about crimes from the past are finally clawing their way to daylight, and boarding school after boarding school is being named by survivors. Loretto is far from being alone.

What’s happening is a MeToo moment, occurring right in front of our eyes. The similarities with MeToo are unmistakable. MeToo began with women in the entertainment industry speaking out about sexual offences they’d been subjected to at work. The world knew what had gone on, but turned a blind eye. There had been a collective shrug of the shoulders – an attitude of "well, it’s Hollywood, of course that happened". Victims weren’t listened to; nobody paid attention; offenders were free to keep offending. The same goes for boarding schools. The shrug of the shoulders; the attitude of "well, of course, bad things happened in boarding schools"; the blind eye, the deaf ear; the failure to act; the failure to call anyone to account.

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Like MeToo, that’s changed. Victims of physical, sexual and psychological abuse at boarding school have found the courage to speak out for the first time. They should be applauded and supported by us all for their dignity, bravery and resilience.

The floodgates opened when a former Loretto English teacher spoke to me. His allegations recounted evidence he’d gathered about violent and sexual abuse in the 80s and 90s. David Stock wasn’t speaking of abuse inflicted by teachers on pupils, he was speaking of abuse inflicted by older pupils on younger pupils. His graphic account of terrible violence and unspeakable sexual assault prompted a wave of survivors to contact me. On Sunday, we reported the story of one former Loretto pupil, Alec, who says his life was destroyed through eight years of brutal violence and humiliation at the school. Alec’s allegations told of his victimisation by prefects and older pupils aged around 17-18, tasked by school authorities to maintain discipline. He spoke of the degrading "fagging" system, where young pupils were effectively used as slaves by older pupils. Alec described his Loretto schooldays as “like living in the Lord of the Flies”.

A scene from the celebrated 1963 film version of Lord of the Flies

Since the publication of Alec’s story, survivor after survivor has come forward. Their accounts are harrowing. The stories of young children trapped in boarding schools night after night at the mercy of brutal and predatory older teenagers – failed by schools that should have protected them, failed by their parents – are too distressing to contemplate at times.

None of this would have come to light without the work of the Scottish Child Abuse Inquiry. It should be commended. It’s the one beacon of hope for survivors. Both David Stock and Alec have given evidence to the inquiry about what happened at Loretto.

Loretto, it should be noted, has offered a full and unreserved apology. The current management of the school should be commended for their co-operation with the inquiry and their pledge that what happened in the past will never happen again. It would have heaped cruelty on top of cruelty if there had been any attempt to handle the testimony of boarding school survivors the way institutions like the Catholic Church handled victim testimony: through cover-up and obfuscation. Loretto creditably has confronted the past head on.

The boarding school scandal raises issues which strike at the heart of British society. Many survivors have spoken about two concerns: firstly, the matter of whether boarding schools can ever be an acceptable way to educate children – depriving them, as it must do, of family bonds; and secondly, the ripple effect of abuse on this nation.

Whether we like it or not, boarding schools create this country’s elites. Many of those at the forefront of politics, the media, science, academia, business and the military in the UK went to boarding school.

At many boarding schools, it’s almost inevitable former pupils either witnessed, were victims of, or took part in the kind of brutal bullying and humiliation that this paper has reported.

One survivor, with horror and disgust in their voice, spoke of some well-known political figures and, referring to the signs of bullying and abuse, said: “I can smell it off them.”

What happened to thousands of young boys and girls at boarding schools was life-altering. So many tell of breakdowns, sexual problems, physical scars, and nightmares that still wake them. If the victims never truly recover - what of the perpetrators?

What happens to teenagers who carried out acts of barbarity at school when they grow up and become adults? What type of person do they turn into? If they attain prominent positions – even leadership roles in society – what does that mean for those who work for them or whose lives they have power over?

Read more: It was like Lord of the Flies' - Horrific accounts of abuse could be boarding schools’ ‘MeToo’ moment

Many survivors say boarding schools should simply be abolished. They cannot understand why their parents abandoned them in such places. That act alone – the act of separating children from parents while so young – is enough to raise questions over the suitability of boarding schools in the 21st century, let alone the history that’s now being uncovered of violent crimes which, we’re told, went on in dorms.

It was heartbreaking to hear victims say that they thought nobody would care about what happened to them as the offences took place in private schools. They thought, because their families were "posh", that we wouldn’t listen.

Survivors need to know that we’re listening. We care. That’s the first step. The next step is calling criminals to account – both those who carried out offences, and those who let it happen on their watch. Like MeToo, this story is only just beginning.

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