This article first appeared in the iNewspaper.

Watching a wounded animal in its death throes is never an edifying experience, and that is exactly how it’s felt observing the Archbishop of Canterbury failing to recognise, until now, that he was stipendiary toast, that his position was untenable, and that his resignation was an inevitability. The longer he dragged it out, the worse it got for him. He has now done the right thing and resigned.

Welby stands accused of knowing about the serial abuse of children by John Smyth QC, but not taking it seriously enough to report him to the police. He appears to have cared more about the reputation of the Church than the many dozens of Smyth’s victims.

When Smyth’s activities were uncovered in this country he moved first to Zimbabwe, then South Africa, where he replicated the so-called “Christian Camps”, where he continued to abuse many African children. Welby attended some of the camps and has now admitted that he first knew of the allegations against Smyth in 1981, yet the two continued to exchange Christmas cards and Welby continued to offer support to Smyth’s camps in Africa both financially and with good wishes.

I’ve always felt that Justin Welby is a weak man. On issue after issue, he comes across as a follower, rather than a leader. He is a man who says he seeks unity, yet presides over an Anglican Church that is more divided than ever.

In some ways one could argue that it is remarkable he has held the Anglican community together for so long, given how riven it is over the issues of the ordination of women bishops and clergy, and homosexuality. But he’s done it without providing a lead, and on the rare occasions when he says something which looks like giving a lead, he almost always backtracks in response to the backlash. That is not leadership. It’s followership. I have personal experience of this.

Back in March 2013, Welby wrote a piece in The Sunday Telegraph on the subject of welfare reform. The proposals he made proved to be highly controversial and there was quite a backlash, especially among his colleagues in the Church of England.

The following day I was to start presenting LBC’s drivetime show. He was the star guest on my first show, with a pre-recorded interview. He and I had never met before. He was already sitting in front of the microphone when I walked into the studio.

I went to shake his hand and say hello. He didn’t offer his hand, or greet me, apart from blurting out: “No questions on welfare reform.” I remember being quite taken aback at the rudeness and his demand. In 15 years of interviewing politicians I have never experienced any politician demanding I don’t ask them a particular question, and yet here was a man of the cloth doing just that. My mind raced. What should I do? I had only got the interview because he happened to be in the building to record a programme for one of Global’s other radio stations. If I didn’t comply and he walked out, it could ruin my employer’s relationship with him forever.

If I complied, it would look ridiculous. To my eternal shame I did comply. That showed weakness on my part, I admit, and I vowed it would never happen again, and it hasn’t, but I was a mere gob-on-a-stick, opinionated radio presenter. I wasn’t God’s representative on earth.

On Sunday I tweeted my view that the Archbishop’s position was untenable and he should quit. It turned out to be my most popular tweet of the last six months. Ninety-nine of the people who commented agreed with my judgement, something which is highly unusual on social media. Most people felt he had forsaken their trust over the position of child protection.

The common view was that he had put the reputation of the Church above the need to protect the dozens of victims of Welby’s friend. He could have gone to the authorities as soon as he realised the seriousness of Smyth’s depravities. The fact that he didn’t, and chose not to, tells us all we need to know about Welby’s sense of Christian values.

Since this scandal emerged, not a single member of the House of Bishops has publicly defended the Archbishop. Tellingly, on my LBC radio show last night, my two excellent producers couldn’t find anyone else to come on to defend him either.

The Bishop of Newcastle, Helen-Ann Hartley, bravely issued a statement, not only calling on him to resign, but alongside a text of a letter sent to her by Welby and the Archbishop of York clearly seeking to coerce her to agree with them that John Sentamu should be allowed to resume his ministry after an independent review found he failed to act on a sexual abuse disclosure.

Hartley’s disclosure on its own ought to have been enough to tip him over the edge, and force his resignation, but even then he tried to cling on. This turbulent priest would not be got rid of. Until 2pm this afternoon. At last he realised he could not go on.

It will now be up to a new archbishop take on the task of restoring the Anglican Church’s reputation and developing a proper, modern safeguarding policy. Let’s hope a real person of vision with clear leadership qualities steps forward to do just that.