Sarah Nelson calls for closer monitoring of charities after the

decision of Denise Brett to withdraw her appeal against suspension from

her position as managing director of the Leukemia and Cancer Children's

Fund. The suspension followed allegations of serious misconduct

WHAT is most extraordinary about the Leukemia & Cancer Children's

Fund? It is not that one of Scotland's highest-profile charities, one of

its noblest and most widely supported causes (from the rich and famous

down to the humblest community fund-raising group) should turn out to be

flawed. On the contrary, it is that so few of the public or media

noticed for so long that anything might be amiss or unprofessional.

This was in such stark contrast to the views of many charities and

professionals working in the same field that the important issue is not

simply why such people failed to gain a public hearing until this past

week. (Either because no-one wanted to listen; or because there was no

adequate system in Scotland for receiving, gathering and dealing with

complaints; or because these charities and professionals could not get

their act together on the issue: or a mixture of all three.)

The key question is also how such a gulf could possibly exist, and

what that says about public perceptions and understanding of the causes

for which charities seek support.

The message is highly relevant and depressing for all organisations

working or campaigning on childhood illness, physical and mental

disability, and overseas aid. All have struggled for years to substitute

rights, and images of dignity, control and self respect, for what one

leading Scots charity expert this week angrily called ''LCCF's technique

of waving the amputated stump, and parading the festering sore''.

LCCF had remarkable, perhaps unique, success in Scotland in attracting

sympathy and support at all levels of society, from politicians to

punters to newspapers. Its collecting cans were ubiquitous in shops and

pubs. Its glitzy functions endlessly succeeded in attracting showbiz,

sports and business personalities.

For years almost every local newspaper has had some account of

sponsored events or collections for LCCF by a community group, sports

group, local store or bank branch. Hardly a town or village in Scotland

has not seen enthusiastic fundraising for the charity. The combination

of leukemia, cancer and children made for an irresistible pull on

people's genuine goodwill and sympathy.

In contrast, most charities and professionals working in the field --

however much they respected LCCF's good intentions and dedication --

either viewed LCCF with concern or could not, professionally, take it

seriously. Emotions ranged from irritation to downright anger and

frustration. This was not simply sour grapes at its high-profile

success, nor due to continuing alarm at some of its fund-raising

methods, and the flak other cancer charities took for these.

Professional issues -- though they have had less publicity -- were to

many the central, most important point.

They could not understand why celebrities, the public and media did

not ask the same, obvious questions that they did. Where were the actual

services which would match the vast fund-raising? Where were the trained

support staff and counsellors which families need? Where were the

pamphlets, leaflets, information packs of the kind Cruise, Enable,

Scottish Downs Syndrome Association or numerous other charities produce

for families and professionals? The seminars and conferences most run,

increasingly with involvement from clients themselves?

Why did LCCF have so few working links with other cancer charities,

and play so little part in co-ordinating groups linking statutory,

voluntary and health agencies? Where was their presence in relevant

hospitals, or their professional voice at gatherings which tried to

improve policy and practice for children and families? And why did the

One in a Million Appeal seek #1m for a sterile respite unit when most

children with leukemia did not need sterile conditions in the first

place?

Crucially, they also viewed highly emotive LCCF publicity with dismay,

distaste or both. It went to the heart of their ethics: and they

basically disagreed with all the emphasis on dying when a majority of

children with leukemia now have a good prognosis. Most charities

involved with children who are ''victims'' have developed strong rules

about using photographs or parading them publicly to gain sympathy and

funding.

Charities, in particular, whose clients are or include child cancer

sufferers have consciously taken a strictly low profile on child

publicity. The only exceptions are sometimes if a young person with

cancer actively desires to lead a support campaign. ''It is our most

fundamental principle not to exploit children,'' said Donal

Donnelly-Wood, social work consultant of the Malcolm Sargent Cancer Fund

for Children.

Yet nobody else seemed to question this publicity: they just dug

deeper into their pockets. The message that gives about public education

suggests learning disability charities might well ask themselves now if

they would raise more cash by returning to those old photographs of

helpless, twisted, open-mouthed ''retards'', tended by their devoted

carers. It is not, of course, an option they would dream of taking.

There are other equally disturbing questions raised by the continuing

affair. It did not need the Scottish Charities Office nor the Lord

Advocate to raise doubts about the professionalism of this charity, nor

to spot practices which whether legal or illegal, would not be

considered good sensible practice by any other major, high-profile

charity.

Their press releases, other literature and lists of names and titles

always had a slightly bizarre quality. The presence and position of Mrs

Denise Brett's relatives could easily have been discovered by any

famous, or ordinary, visitor to the holiday homes. Coupled with the

concerns of other charities and professionals, these matters could have

been followed up by curious observers -- including journalists -- at any

time.

The question must be asked, not least because many of the public will

be asking it. Did it become too embarrassing for many influential

supporters to look closely at the charity just because they were already

publicly involved in supporting it? And did some people who did have

concerns, or had these brought to them, feel pressured into ignoring

them because making a fuss would do such harm to the noble causes of

cancer, leukemia and children?

That is an important question, the moral dilemma, even blackmail, of

goodwill. Because it will arise again, with some other charity, in some

other place. Postponing the evil day does not, of course, assist noble

causes or other charities. On the contrary, it can lead to far greater

public cynicism and a fall-out against charities in general, which many

fear and some have already experienced. This fall-out makes it harder,

not easier, to have the actual truth believed: that the vast majority of

charities are honourable, scrupulous and at least reasonably efficient.

Cynicism (even if undeserved) could be deeper and more serious as a

result of LCCF's scrutiny, precisely because so very many Scottish

people gave their time and effort to raise money in all kinds of ways

for LCCF. Most cancer charities in particular are almost totally

dependent on voluntary fund-raising and use a network of local

fund-raising committees.

As Evelyn Smillie, manager of Cancerlink, put it: ''Local committees

and communities are simply our biggest single resource as charities. And

if such people feel their trust has been betrayed, it's bound to put

them off making that effort for anybody else.''

Scottish charities will now need to push a concerted message, that the

moral of the LCCF affair is not that you can't trust anyone who rattles

a collecting tin. Rather, the public has a right to expect influential

people and agencies to be vigilant and outspoken. Secondly, popular

goodwill for a cause is not enough: wrapped in ignorance and prejudice,

it is dangerous.

If the public and media are educated and informed about the vulnerable

people charities support, about their real needs, and about the

principles most charities actually actively promote about their client

groups, they are far less likely to have wool pulled over their eyes by

anyone.

Sarah Nelson is Press Officer for the Scottish Council for Voluntary

Organisations.