John Michell explores the phenomenon of phantom child abduction
Readers who have nothing better to do than leaf through their local newspapers are asked to keep an eye out for reports of BSW sightings.
Over the last three years, hundreds of Bogus Social Workers have been observed all over Britain, mostly in the poor districts of former industrial towns in the North. The majority of them are women, single or in pairs, aged about 30, well dressed, smartly made up, with educated, non-local accents. The occasional male BSW is similarly official looking. Both sexes carry briefcases and clipboards. They say they have come to inspect your children. Sometimes they want to take them away, but they have never actually done so, and they have rarely been known to touch or examine a child. When you challenge their credentials or threaten to call the police, they make excuses and leave.
At the peak of the first great BSW outbreak, in the summer of 1990, the police were investigating over 250 cases in what was described as Britain’s biggest ever man-hunt. Urged on by lubricious journalists (the News of the World offered a £10,000 reward for the capture of a BSW), they set up a headquarters in Sheffield and issued descriptions of the BSW types they were seeking to ‘interview’. The only effect of this was to multiply the number of reported incidents. Not one of the unlicensed baby-inspectors was ever arrested and the News of the World prize is still waiting to be claimed.
The police, who spend much of their time chasing phantoms, are fairly experienced in the world of intermediate reality. It did not take them long to realise that the BSWs were not, as was first supposed, gangs of paedophiles or satanists but a new type of thought-form, similar in kind to the Men in Black (MIBs) who are often sighted during outbreaks of UFO-type phenomena. Most of the BSW reports, said a police spokesman, were cases of mistaken identity or products of the hysteria about child molestation whipped up by press and television.
Not surprisingly, the first wave of BSW sightings came soon after the Cleveland affair, when busloads of children were taken into care, and their parents and uncles were accused of abusing them. Nor is it surprising that Cleveland erupted a year after the importation of a- deadly virus from America — the virus of witch-hunting. This plague has been endemic in the United States since the earliest days, but the new version which emerged in the early 1980s was particularly virulent. Communities were gripped by the notion that covens of satanic ritualists were active among them, kidnapping babies and sacrificing them in obscene ceremonies.
Rosie Waterhouse, whose fine article (she never writes any other kind) ornamented the first issue of The Oldie, has described how in 1988 this nonsense spread to Britain. One of its side-effects is the creation of sinister thought-forms such as BSWs. Thought-forms are indicators of psychological disturbance, and there are similarities between the present outbreak and a well- known psychosis which has afflicted Europe intermittently since the Middle Ages. It is but a short step from believing that unknown satanists are devouring Christian babies to reviving the murderous ‘blood libel’ which attributed such activities to the Jews. Those who give credence to satanic rumours should understand the nature of the thought-forms they are encouraging.
Proof that our brilliant police force recognises the power of thought-forms is given by Mr Dan Crompton, Chief Constable of Nottinghamshire. Referring to the panic which seized Nottingham in 1991, he warned that these nasty rumours, acting upon young minds, could well be a cause of actual satanic manifestations in times to come.