It’s been a bad week for orchestras. An old sexual assault scandal at the New York Philharmonic hit the headlines again. But what could have come and gone quickly as a “bad apple” story – one that was not even news – soon escalated into something much bigger, as it became clear that the rot had been spreading in the orchestra for 14 years. The president of Local 802 of the American Federation of Musicians condemned “the culture of complicity that has raged at the N.Y. Philharmonic for too long.” That is to say, the problem was both long-term and pervasive: it was embedded in the culture of the orchestra.

Coruscating social media commentary by the likes of musicians Lara St John and Katherine Needleman, music journalist Anne Midgette, and psychologist Heather O’Donnell, and hundreds of responses to their posts from other musicians, revealed that the rot goes deep and wide. This is not just about the NY Phil, but also about the orchestral sector, conservatoires, high school bands – the list goes on.

The articles, opinion pieces, and commentary highlighted disturbing aspects of the classical music sector, such as widespread misogyny and hostility to women; a tendency to look the other way from sexual assault and harassment (O’Donnell writes of “a rape-tolerant culture in the classical music industry”); foot-dragging by institutions, which often to respond to problems as little and as late as possible and to focus on reputation management; and a tendency for those who speak out to be revictimized (ignored, ousted, blacklisted, ostracized, etc.). Crimes and misdemeanours are rarely a secret: sexual predators are often known as such by many musicians and administrators. Yet these open secrets seldom make their way into the public realm via the media, for a mixture of good reasons – gathering evidence that will withstand legal challenge is complex, time-consuming, and expensive – and less good ones to do with the hand-in-glove relationship between many classical music journalists and the industry. So few perpetrators face any sort of reckoning. O’Donnell ends with a call for the NY Phil (and by implication, the whole sector) “to engage in some deep soul-searching and meaningful change processes.”

By extension, it’s been a bad week for social action through music (SATM), a sector headed by El Sistema and focused on the youth orchestra. Partly because of the uncomfortable reminders of El Sistema’s own sexual abuse scandal, which – as in the wider orchestral sector – is one facet of a generalized culture of misogyny and sexism. As I observed in 2010-11, this culture started with founder José Antonio Abreu, who liked to surround himself with male courtiers, and worked its way down through conductors (all male at that time), directors of the instrumental academies (ditto), the section principals of the Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra (all male bar one), and the wider orchestra (80% male). El Sistema was designed to induct young musicians into the orchestral world, and it did so in more ways than one, habituating them to male domination and sexual predation. In the words of one musician who commented this week on their youth orchestra experience: “In hindsight, really early normalization of inappropriate workplace behavior.” The growing tide of gender critique that has emerged this week is a reminder that SATM’s emblematic program is part of the problem.

But also because SATM is founded on an idealization of the symphony orchestra. In Gustavo Dudamel’s words, “an orchestra is a model for an ideal global society.” Orchestral culture, he claims, forms better citizens. This week’s events have illustrated, not for the first time, how far this idealization lies from reality. Rebecca Cherian, trombonist in the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra for 33 years, touched on this very disjuncture: “The abuse by men in high-level positions of power, authority and influence are playing out everywhere, even in our Symphony Orchestras which the public assumes are bastions of culture and civility.”

When the president of the musicians’ union Local 802 spoke of a “culture of complicity,” she revealed that the kind of social bonding that orchestras generate can override morality. I recalled the Venezuelan orchestral administrator who told me privately that El Sistema was “one big family… like the Sicilian mafia.” I thought of all the sexual predators that operated in the program, and the figures of authority and the thousands of musicians who turned a blind eye. If after one year in Venezuela, I knew the identity of numerous sexual predators at all levels of the program (from low-level teachers to conductors and performers with international careers and reputations), you can be sure that musicians who had spent 10, 20, or 30 years there knew those names and many more. I spoke to a musician who had studied in the same music school as “Lisa,” whose detailed testimony of abuse was central to the breaking of El Sistema’s scandal in 2021. “Everyone knew,” he told me. Abreu’s sister knew, according to Lisa, but the program reacted by moving the predator to another school, rather than firing him. The culture of complicity ran to the top. So much for an ideal society of good citizens.

There has been some movement on the culture of abuse since I first revealed it in 2014. The response of El Sistema, the SATM sector, and the media to my research initially echoed that found more broadly in the classical music sphere: there was a blast of outright denials and attempts by representatives and classical music journalists to discredit me rather than investigate the issues that I raised. With few exceptions, they rallied round El Sistema and made me a pariah. (I was interested to see this article last year about the media reception of Blair Tindall’s Mozart in the Jungle, which largely ignored its message about sexual abuse in the classical music world in favour of shooting the messenger.)

But when the issue blew up again in 2021, on a larger scale, they had no choice but to act. El Sistema now has a child protection and safeguarding page on its website (after nearly half a century of operation). Its affiliate organization the Academy for Impact through Music (AIM) has a Safeguarding Matters page. Sistema Europe insists that its members have safeguarding policies. Change was slow and reluctant, and I continue to be blacklisted and ostracized for having spoken out (something that many musicians have reported this week), but there has been some movement at the level of policies.

What is less in evidence are signs of the kinds of “deep soul-searching” about the culture of orchestras that O’Donnell calls for. El Sistema’s safeguarding page is indicative: sexual abuse is treated as a “bad apple” problem. Worse still, the tone is entirely self-justificatory and self-congratulatory, as is the program’s wont. Its message could be summarized as “we have always done a brilliant job at safeguarding.” There is no mea culpa, no apology, no remorse – not even an empty verbal gesture. So of course there is no acknowledgment of the wider culture of misogyny, which is not something that can be corrected with safeguarding policies. El Sistema’s response has been about limiting damage and protecting its image rather than searching its soul.

As the lawyer Selene Soto, who specializes in gender issues, told Caracas Chronicles back in 2021: “the discussion has been focused only on the legal aspects, but an internal investigation is key. This kind of strategy delegates the protocols to entities outside El Sistema, without assuming any institutional responsibility, which is far from being the right response.”

AIM’s language is more promising – the content of its relevant page suggests that it is taking the safeguarding issue seriously; yet its affiliates continue to venerate the symphony orchestra and El Sistema, raising the question of how much change it can really effect. There is no sign in El Sistema or the wider SATM sector of any recognition of a systemic problem concerning orchestral culture. They continue to idealize the orchestra as the solution to society’s ills, despite the abundant evidence to the contrary.

The shifts on child protection and safeguarding are positive steps. But given what this week’s story has revealed about the culture of orchestras, it is high time for the next one: for soul-searching about basing a global field of “social” musical programs on this flawed model.

Recall the words of the veteran orchestral trombonist Rebecca Cherian: assumptions about symphony orchestras as “bastions of culture and civility,” which form the bedrock of SATM, are misguided. They are idealizations that are out of touch with reality, which is that “abuse by men in high-level positions of power, authority and influence” is “everywhere.” This week has produced an outpouring of evidence of orchestral excellence going hand-in-hand with bad citizenship.

Such idealizations are not harmless; they are part of the culture of complicity. They support the flawed status quo. What is needed today are critical reflection and change, not myths and fantasies that obscure and perpetuate injustices.

If social action is really the goal, then conventional orchestral culture cannot be the means. Promoting and spreading it risks creating more social problems than it solves.

SATM needs to be rethought. At the very least, the orchestra needs to be reimagined in a social project setting. It is not enough to change the players, as El Sistema has done; the rules of the game need to change.