More significantly, the two cultures have one chief issue in common: secrecy. As it did within the church, secrecy underlies almost all of the proceedings surrounding complaints of sexual misconduct by physicians.
That's a big difference from what happens when someone walks into a police station and files a report of sexual assault. The justice system is geared to let the public know when a potentially dangerous problem arises in their community. If the accused is later cleared, then that gets reported, too.
In contrast, the medical disciplinary system, like church procedure before it, is usually geared to protecting the identities of everyone concerned.
In Colorado, for example, even a patient may not come back to the medical board after filing a complaint and request information about his or her own complaint. The board won't even confirm it had contact with the patient. According to medical board officials there, by law a patient's confidentiality in the matter belongs not to her, but to her doctor.
(The vast majority of patients who suffer sexual abuse from doctors are women.)
In an age of doctor shortages and priest shortages, especially in rural areas or among marginalized populations, the secrecy is geared to make it easier to rehabilitate a physician and send them back into service. Board officials also stress that without secrecy, far fewer people would ever complain, and more abuse would continue unchecked.
But secrecy is also the engine that drives recidivism. It's a lot harder to re-offend if patients are prepared for the possibility.
One reason the AJC undertook this project was to let all patients know that there are things they can do to protect themselves. The first is to know how an intimate medical exam is supposed to proceed: read about it here.