The High Cost of the Scapegoat

When we name the problem, we often become the problem. Integrity is a quiet, lonely room.

History is littered with whistleblowers who found their actions led to negative consequences.

Australian Tax Office employee Richard Boyle exposed aggressive, allegedly unethical tax-debt recovery practices, then faced criminal charges for his disclosures, though he ultimately avoided jail last year. His case became a major test of Australia’s whistleblower protection laws and prompted policy changes within the ATO. The sentencing judge imposed a 12-month good behaviour bond and described his offending as having occurred in “extenuating circumstances”.

Former Australian Army lawyer David McBride was not so fortunate. He leaked classified documents to the ABC, exposing alleged war crimes by Australian soldiers in Afghanistan. His disclosures led to the “Afghan Files” investigation and later a major military inquiry. McBride is considered one of Australia’s most prominent national-security whistleblowers, yet was sentenced to almost six years’ imprisonment in 2024.

We’ve all heard the saying “the truth will set you free”. We see it in popular culture: the whistleblower is hailed as a hero, the bad guys get their comeuppance, and the good guys live long and happy lives.

Really, this is all a myth. Because in real life, hearing the truth often just makes people angry.

Psychologists have a term, the “equilibrium of silence”, where a situation exists with a bunch of competing forces or emotions are balanced in an uneasy equilibrium. If you choose to air a reality that a group has chosen to ignore - whether it’s an issue at work, a family drama or some other systemic failure - you disrupt that balance. And that pisses people off, however honest and true you are being.

You open the blinds, let daylight in - and that sunlight exposes people. You could say you have broken a contract, a tacit and unspoken agreement.

So don’t go expecting a round of applause. More likely, those around you will judge - and isolate you.

The term institutional betrayal was developed by psychologist Jennifer Freyd and colleagues. Institutional betrayal refers to

“wrongdoings perpetrated by an institution upon individuals dependent on that institution, including failure to prevent or respond supportively to wrongdoing.”

The truth-teller more often than not is punished. Rather than the group choosing to fix the issue. So the group scapegoats the whistleblower; they decide you are the problem, and thus transfer the discomfort to you rather than shouldering it themselves.

Inevitably, this leads to grief for the truthteller; you lose the friendship. If you are currently the one standing outside the circle because you refused to look away, understand that your loneliness isn’t a sign that you were wrong. It is often the price of being the only sane person in the room.

You have to decide if your integrity is worth the loss of belonging. Of course, it does. But it’s going to hurt. The question for the rest of us is simpler: when someone near us finally tells a difficult truth, do we move closer to them or to the group?