And so we all get to move on now; or at least to shift our gaze elsewhere. If there is any sense of closure or catharsis to be found in the news that Manchester United will not be re‑engaging Mason Greenwood as a first-team player, it is to be hoped that these qualities are reserved for Greenwood’s initial, presumed, now‑withdrawn – phrase it however you want – accuser; and in his own eventual passage through life from here.
The news came as no great surprise when it emerged on Monday afternoon that United will not, after bizarrely prolonged deliberations, be reinstating Greenwood to their first-team squad, 18 months after that brutally shocking social media content first emerged, and six months after charges of attempted rape, assault and controlling and coercive behaviour were dropped by the Crown Prosecution Service. Indeed, by now this all feels like something of an afterthought.
Greenwood’s career will get to restart in some form. It goes without saying that the full hand of available options will have been explored by those with a financial stake in his future; and indeed that there is already no shortage of takers. Greenwood is a hugely talented footballer with his prime years still to come. There are leagues around the world with more liquid cash, even, than the Premier League, and with a great deal less in the way of moral accountability on such issues.
As for the man himself there are only two things worth saying at this stage. First, it is to be hoped that the content of Greenwood’s personal statement, released simultaneously on Monday afternoon, will indeed reflect his interactions with other human beings from this point in his young life, and the example he can still set as a high-profile and charismatic male athlete.
It is technically incorrect to state, as Greenwood does, that he has been cleared of all accusations. Those accusations were never tested in court. Instead they were withdrawn when a key witness refused to give evidence. People will of course draw their own conclusions on this, as indeed seemed to be the initial purpose of releasing, unbidden, that deeply shocking content into the public sphere.
At that same time no human being, even those actually convicted of such crimes, is beyond redemption. Life is also long and capable of other shades. Being a good father, advocating for respect in relationships between men and women, as Greenwood, no doubt gallingly, appears to be doing in his carefully drafted spiel; these are least worthwhile goals.
The second point is one that should be stapled to the top of every football-centred story on this topic while we can still offer it all this borrowed light. Regardless of Greenwood’s state of innocence the crimes he was accused of are grievously underexamined by the wider UK justice system.
Some basic stats. One per cent of rape allegations reported to the police in the UK end in a conviction, the kind of shamefully low success rate usually reserved for burglary and street theft, not life-altering assault of the most profound kind.
Even when proceedings start almost 70% of alleged serious sexual assault victims subsequently withdraw from the process, a dropout rate that has been related to court delays, morale-sappingly low conviction rates and the trauma of reliving the experience.
These facts are introduced as a point of order. Anyone tempted to celebrate – because this is football, and there must always be winners and losers – any aspect of Greenwood’s freedom to walk away from all this would be well advised to tread carefully. There is nothing, really, nothing, to cheer about here.
As for the industry side of this deeply disturbing affair, there are some harder judgments to be made. Not least when it comes to the deeply disappointing, predictably bodged and hedged response of Greenwood’s employers, the leisure product, global brand and heavily leveraged cultural crown jewel that is Manchester United.
Certainly, nothing has been fixed or resolved or made good by United’s decision to move Greenwood on, a decision that seemed, at least according to the whispers, to be heading the other way until relatively recently.
From the start, and most notably in the last six months, the almost total lack of moral leadership has been painfully bleak. In effect United have seemed to be focus-grouping this thing, wreathing it in corporate-care cant, second-guessing likely responses, as opposed to at least trying to take a stand on the objective ethics, on what is morally right and wrong, whatever influence various “stakeholders” might apply.
What exactly have they been investigating since those charges were dropped? Why has the conduct of the much-touted investigation been led by a corporate type with no obvious experience in investigating anything of this seriousness and profile? Albeit with plenty of experience in massaging reputational issues and making financially sensitive decisions.
A simple question. Why did United keep Greenwood at the club for a year while these issues were being investigated, only to decide to move him on six months after his case has been dropped? What is the logic here? Innocent until proven guilty is a wonderful and unimpeachable principle. But only on matters that come before a court. The simple fact of not being an actual convicted rapist seems a pretty low bar for remaining a high-profile, massively rewarded employee of Manchester United. And lest we forget the evidence presented here was utterly heartbreaking. Bruises, a cut mouth. Audio where a man referred to by a woman as “Mason” says “I don’t give a fuck what you want … I’m going to fuck you, you twat … I don’t care if you want to have sex with me … Push me again one more time and watch what happens to you.”
There are such issues as misconduct, bringing the game into disrepute, toxifying an institution that still furiously monetises its family appeal. What exactly has changed in the last 18 months? Or indeed during that internal investigation that involved such deeply brainless initiatives as asking the women’s team to comment (because, like they’re women) and – it is alleged – drawing up lists of likely public responses from what the management would probably call Opinion Stakeholders. The lack of backbone here, of a sense of objective morality, is deeply depressing.
Perhaps the most telling part of United’s own recent public statements is the assertion the club has a duty of care to Greenwood because he has been an employee, effectively, since the age of seven. This is entirely correct. But also deeply telling in its own way.
What exactly is the depth of care and education here? How happy are we generally that elite football’s young men, captive princes exposed from the tenderest age to the most visceral forces, are being given the leadership and the human contact they need, at United or anywhere else? A little less, perhaps, after the last 18 months.
