Article
Books
Culture
Morality
Sin
7 min read

After the Salt Path revelations I’m liking it even more

We edit our own reality by the stories we tell ourselves

Roger is a Baptist minister, author and Senior Research Fellow at Spurgeon’s College in London. 

A newspaper front page shows its title and a falling sea bird
How The Observer broke the story.

The Observer held nothing back in its exposé headline:

“The real Salt Path: how a blockbuster book and film were spun from lies, deceit and desperation”

The truth behind the summer’s feel-good movie and the reputation of author Raynor Winn lie in tatters, shredded by the revelations unearthed by relentless investigative journalism.

The uplifting story of how a couple face financial ruin, homelessness and a terminal illness by walking the South West Coast Path has been an inspiration for many who’ve either read the book or seen the film, or both. The story works because it reflects back to us the life we know, the lives we live. And when you add the seaside of Somerset, Devon, Cornwall and Dorset, what’s not to love?

But now it needs to be seen in an altogether different light.

The article beneath the headline was thoroughly researched, carefully constructed and uncompromising in the allegations implied by the discoveries, observations and commentary of its narrative.

“… not her real name”

“… she was a thief … embezzled the money”

“… arrested and interviewed by the police”

“… five county court judgements”

“… they owned land in France”

“… nine neurologists … were sceptical”

Point by point the back story of the Salt Path is pulled apart.

First, Raynor and Moth Winn are not the “real”, “legal” names of Sally and Tim Walker.

Second, The Observer uncovered that the couple had money troubles for reasons other than the failed business investment they had claimed. Rather, as a part-time bookkeeper for an estate agent and property surveyor, Sally was accused of syphoning off £64,000 from the company’s accounts. Concerning which, it was reported that she was arrested and interviewed by the police.

Third, it was mounting debts from settling the matter with her former employer, alongside other debts, that actually led to the repossession of their home and their resulting homelessness. Not the failed business venture.

Fourth, they weren’t actually homeless as they owned a property in France, near Bordeaux. While it was in a state of disrepair and not habitable, they had previously stayed on site in a caravan.

And then finally, in a revelation that undermined the very heart of the story of their journey together, medical experts observed that it was extremely doubtful that Moth had suffered from corticobasal degeneration (CBD) for 18 years. The journalist had consulted nine neurologists, and this was the reported consensus. Not only were Moth’s presenting symptoms not what were expected, the normal life expectancy with the condition was tragically short at six to eight years.

Pulling the various strands of its investigation together The Observer thumps the tub about the importance of ‘truth’. It is not acceptable to be mis-sold an idea of truth where important passages of the book are invented. There are both “… sins of omission and commission”:

“The story, no doubt, has elements of truth, but it also misrepresents who they were, how they started out on their journey and the financial circumstances that provided the backdrop.”

However, life is complicated and there are always two sides to a story.

In a response posted to her website Raynor Winn answers each of the accusations in turn. Amid the storm of vitriol and threat unleashed online by the article, she protests that, “… [it] is grotesquely unfair, highly misleading and seeks to systematically pick apart my life.”

Most distressing has been how Moth has been traumatised by the suggestion his diagnosis was made up. Along with her online statement Winn has posted appropriately redacted letters from the neurologists treating Moth that confirm his diagnosis and the narrative of the book.

As for the charges of embezzlement, she does concede that there were difficulties with a former employer. Allegations were made to the police, and she was questioned about them. However, no charges were brought, and a settlement was reached that included her paying back money on a “non-admissions basis”.

“Any mistakes I made during the years in that office, I deeply regret, and I am truly sorry.” Raynor Winn

This, however, was not the failed business deal that lay behind their financial difficulties and which triggered their homelessness and the Salt Path story.

Winn reports that the property in France is an “uninhabitable ruin in a bramble patch” with its own, unrelated, back story. When they did explore selling it at the height of their difficulties, a local French agent valued it as virtually worthless and saw marketing it as pointless.

Ultimately, they chose not to declare themselves bankrupt and simply wipe out their debts. Rather, they made an agreement with their creditors for minimal repayments. The success of the book has enabled all their debts to be cleared.

Which leaves the implicit accusation of not being who they said they were, of hiding behind pseudonyms and not owning their “real”, “legal” names. She explains that the reasons Sally Ann and Tim Walker are Raynor and Moth Winn is really quite straightforward.

In the early years of their relationship she told Moth how much she disliked being called Sally Ann and would have preferred the family name, Raynor. Moth called her Ray from that point on. Winn is her maiden name. As for Moth, well his name is Timothy, get it? Friends and family use the names interchangeably, Sal/Ray, Tim/Moth.

Having read the book and seen the film earlier this summer I was particularly taken with The Salt Path. The humanity of their story, the journey they’d been on and the insights to a life well-lived that it offered.

Goodness, which one of us has never made a mistake, a bad call, or a wrong choice, “through weakness, through ignorance or through our own deliberate fault”?

When The Observer’s bombshell broke my heart fell. Moral high horses were being mounted and outrage expressed. Raynor Winn was being cancelled, literally cancelled.

She pulled out of her forthcoming Saltlines tour, which would have seen her perform readings from her books alongside the music of the Gigspanner Big Band during a string of UK dates. There were also calls for Penguin to cancel her next book, On Winter Hill, set for publication in October.

But do you know what? On reflection, after the revelations about the Salt Path story I’m liking it even more. And for exactly the same reasons I liked it before. Because it reflects back to us the life we know, the lives we live.

For a start, life is messy. Sometimes it’s even murky, full of misunderstanding, misinterpretation and constructed narratives. Goodness, which one of us has never made a mistake, a bad call, or a wrong choice, “through weakness, through ignorance or through our own deliberate fault”? Skeletons and cupboards come to mind.

Then, on the back of that, we all fashion the story of our lives. Whether it’s curating our online presence with the images we post to social media, or the anecdotes we share and the face we present to those who are part of our day-to-day lives. The pull is always towards a version that shows us in the best light.

In fact, it can even go right down to the stories we tell about ourselves, to ourselves. The interpretation of what has happened to us and why. Interpreting how much of our experience is down to what has been done to us or is the fruit of our own responsibility.

Now, I may not want to go as far as University of Sussex Professor of Neuroscience, Anil Seth, whose books, articles and Ted Talks see us living in a kind of ‘controlled hallucination’. An interpreted version of reality constructed and calibrated by our brains out of our experience. But there is no doubt in my mind that we edit our own version of reality by the stories we tell ourselves and each other.

This is how things are. This is what it means to be human. Some bits are edited in, others edited out. Some experiences we can interpret in one way, while others might view them very differently from where they stand.

When we feel the temptation to write someone off because of what they’ve done we do well to reflect on our own experience. Then we may well be grateful that we haven’t been cancelled because of our past indiscretions.  As the old saying goes, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”

I’m reminded of how Jesus handled himself is such circumstances. When a self-righteous crowd were swiftly wanting to rush to judgement on a woman’s flawed sexual choices, Jesus encouraged those who were without fault to be the first to act. Slowly they all realised what he was saying and backeddown.

For myself, I have always found the prayer of confession to be profoundly helpful. It keeps us grounded in the reality of our own experience and should caution us about cancelling others and writing them off.

Almighty God, our heavenly Father,

we have sinned against you

and against our neighbour

in thought and word and deed,

through negligence, through weakness,

through our own deliberate fault.

We are truly sorry

and repent of all our sins.

For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ,

who died for us,

forgive us all that is past

and grant that we may serve you in newness of life

to the glory of your name.

Amen.

For our skeletons there is forgiveness.

For what lies ahead, we have the possibilities of starting over.

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Article
Books
Comment
Digital
Distraction
5 min read

Reading is the perfect act of rebellion in our screen society

A fortunate meeting with the right text works an unfathomable, transformative magic.

Rachel is a reader and writer, a coach, and an educator. 

A young boy pores over a book tracing the lines with a finger.
Michael Parzuchowksi on Unsplash.

Every year out of the 22 years that I have been teaching, there has been at least one child, increasingly several, who lay down the gauntlet in September. They steady their feet and ball their fists before sizing up to inform me that they hate reading, they always will, no matter what I do, so there!  

I likely raise an eyebrow and one side of my mouth; I don’t rub my hands together but the flame inside me leaps as I accept this familiar challenge. I’ve faced it so many times before and have almost always emerged the victor come July.  

The secret is knowing great books, knowing the individual reader and knowing how to make that perfect match.  

To read or not to read? That is the perplexing and troublesome question bothering many a teacher and (in my opinion) not enough parents in the present day. Need convincing? Though numerous research studies have evidenced significant benefits to cognitive function, brain health, physical longevity, mental health, stress relief, empathy, intelligence and sleep patterns, the National Literacy Trust's 2024 survey of over 76,000 children found that reading for pleasure saw an 8.8 per cent drop in just one year from 43.4 per cent to a worryingly low 34.6 per cent. This represents the lowest percentage since records began in 2005. Furthermore, trends are much the same throughout the adult population. It’s perhaps not hard to work out why picking up a book has declined in popularity. In our high-speed world of fleeting concentration, where bright, moving images flicker and fade, the monochrome, demanding, inanimate pages of a book can seem dull by comparison.  

But a little effort can be hugely rewarding. Indeed, imaginatively creating, rather than consuming digital images, is the perfect act of rebellion in an utterly conformist, screen-based society. It is counter-cultural and subversive to sit awhile and demand that you bring your undivided attention to an effortful activity. To switch off devices and work your way into the unexplored possibilities of your own mind through the pages of a good book.   

Teaching this to children has been my mission through 22 years of teaching English. I consider myself one of the stalwart guardians of the flame. The responsibility weighs heavy, urgent, and terrifying as resistance increases year on year. I obsess over it, feeling rationally afraid that if I stop breathing onto those embers for even one moment, the opportunity for revival will be lost…forever.  

So, what of these books? What are we guarding? What is this paper-based treasure? 

Imagine, for a moment, the sensational day when some tech billionaire creates a functioning portal or time machine, facilitating transportation back to the Tudors or the Trenches at the touch of a button.  

Consider the mindless jostling to board a new rocket destined for a dystopian future not too distant or dissimilar from the present. Picture the frantic rush to buy personal transportation devices to enable visits to the rainforests of Guatemala, the Arctic glaciers or tropical island shores at a moment’s notice.  

Imagine the insatiable sales of holograms masquerading as friends next to whom we could sink into an armchair creating free access to the minds of the rich and famous.  

There would be jostling, posturing and frantic networking to get in on the action. That billionaire could set his price. Millions would be hastily spent to gain access. 

But when that experience can be easily bought for somewhere in the region of £7.99 and comes in a 20x13cm rectangular paper format with monochrome printed pages, the levels of sensation and desirability dramatically drop through the floor.  

In a world of fakery, a written encounter with truth transforms. Where empathy and compassion are eroded, accessing the imagination redeposits. 

We fail to see that our books are indeed those time machines, transportation devices and conversations with wise giants. We were gifted such possibilities at the time of the printing press. A well-chosen book should never leave you the same at its last word as you were when encountering the first. Between those two covers was a moment in time when you were profoundly and fundamentally changed for eternity. You acquired new knowledge, encountered new people and places, travelled through time, experienced ranging emotions and developed thoughts and ideas in conversation with the greats. Something within you was transformed for good or for ill with your choice of book. If nothing happened, you need help choosing. 

Content matters also. We should feed our minds as carefully as we should feed our bodies.  

In a world of fakery, a written encounter with truth transforms. Where empathy and compassion are eroded, accessing the imagination redeposits. Where loneliness and depression devour, explorations of good character and relationship will nourish. Where fame and power corrupt, examples of service and humility will heal.  

Good books will always nourish the soul. 

Whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy – we should think on such things. This is why running our eyes over good words and filling our ears with exemplary voices is essential.  

It is nothing short of a miracle that I can consult the wisdom of C.S. Lewis, the brave imagination of Katherine Rundell, the compassion of Maya Angelou and the teaching of Tom Wright in the silent space surrounding my armchair. I can equally learn from those who knew Frederick Douglass and those who knew Jesus not as figures in history but as a friend and teacher, a person of flesh and bone, in their literal time and space. They saw his face, they heard his voice, they felt the warmth of his hands on their skin, and I can know about it from their contemporary writings. I can consult equally with the writer of those ancient songs of wisdom that are the Psalms and the writer to the citizens of Philippi and know that between the words on those pages lies a moment when I am profoundly and fundamentally changed for all eternity.   

Wise words are powerful, and they endure. They outlive a lifetime. They are miraculous and accessible. The world needs them. 

So, to read or not read? The question is significant. It defines humanity. We guardians know that those last glowing embers must never be allowed to die. To read is a gift. It is noble work. It is a powerful and necessary act of rebellion in a world so out of touch with the Word. 

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