Strictly Come Dancing isn’t the problem – men are

Can Strictly survive, despite allegations against three of the show’s professional dancers? Probably. Does it tell us ugly truths about attitudes to women and abuse? Certainly...

Strictly Come Dancing, once famous for its ballroom bling and raunchy rumbas, is now mired in a deepening abuse scandal.

After professional dancers Giovanni Pernice and Graziano Di Prima were alleged to have mistreated celebrity partners during training, a third Strictly pro – who is no longer part of the show – has been named as “a person of interest” in the BBC investigation.

The identity of the third star has not been revealed, but according to initial reports: “A professional’s name has come up, alongside Giovanni and Graziano. He is no longer part of the show but he has been named as a person of interest. Conversations are ongoing and there are more people who need to be spoken to.”

Neither Pernice (who has denied claims of “abusive or threatening behaviour”) nor Di Prima will feature in the dancer lineup for this year’s series. And quite right. But can this scandal really be dismissed as an issue about training methods and professionals’ desire to win, or is there something much bigger and more insidious at play?

And rather than a “training methods” problem, doesn’t Strictly in fact have a “man problem”?

Yes, Strictly is a much-loved TV fixture. I know many celebrities have had a smashing time with their pro partners – Alison Hammond, for example, has waxed lyrical about her time with Aljaz Skorjanec in 2014, saying, “he made me feel safe and secure, he was a brilliant teacher, I loved working with him, I never had any issues whatsoever”.

But, it seems, that for some celeb partners, behind the shimmer, shine and sequins of the TV studio, there was a very different story – and it’s one that, sadly, many women will recognise from their own experiences.

Di Palma is accused of mistreating his dance partner Zara McDermott during training for last year’s series. Reports have claimed that show staffers were “reduced to tears” watching footage of some of the incidents. The BBC has now announced new welfare precautions, including chaperones.

McDermott, however, didn’t make any formal complaint about her treatment. But I don’t blame her. We’ve seen time and again that women aren’t believed when they speak up about abuse.

We’ve witnessed how the women who do speak up are reviled and derided – their career left in tatters. Just look at the savage backlash to Amber Heard.

It’s a huge risk to report abuse and that risk isn’t mitigated if the abuse is in the workplace. I always remember one much more senior woman telling me that I should never report men’s behaviour, because women will always come off the worst.

Sadly, that’s something I found to be true – as will many women reading this. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I read McDermott’s statement, posted to her Instagram Stories yesterday: “I have wrestled with the fear of opening up – I was scared about public backlash, I was scared about my future, I was scared of victim shaming.”

But after a lot of conversations with those I love, I’ve gained the strength to face these fears, and when I was asked to speak to the BBC, I spoke candidly about my time on the show.”

I hate to say it, but she was right to be scared. All too often, women’s experiences of abuse are only believed if there are witnesses – and, preferably, photographic or video evidence. Even if there are witnesses and a woman has collected recordings, then her intentions are assumed to be malicious. Why would she be recording? Why is she collecting evidence? Why not just get out?

In McDermott’s case, Strictly staffers reported the alleged abuse and footage was recorded as part of the programme’s filming, so she can’t be accused of having ulterior motives. But what a sad state of affairs that is. She had to endure all that and still smile for the live show – still hug her celebrity partner as if none of this was going on in the background.

Di Palma has now been dropped from the pro lineup and released a statement of his own, saying “I deeply regret the events that led to my departure from Strictly. My intense passion and determination to win might have affected my training regime.”

No apology to McDermott. Not even a mention of her. “Regretting events” isn’t exactly admitting to the alleged abuse, but “intense passion” always seems to be a red flag when said in response to such allegations.

What is important to remember is that Strictly, for all its gleaming grins and glossy escapism, isn’t actually separate from the world we live in. And it seems to me that this scandal is unlikely to be a case of one or two (or three) bad apples, but indicative of a broader cultural problem with men’s behaviour towards women – and women’s (justified) fear of speaking out.

Can Strictly survive? Probably. Does it tell us ugly truths about attitudes to women and abuse? Certainly.