"I believe you before you open your mouth." 

Christine Buckley's words echoed this week as social media posts raged against the two men who told, in gut-wrenching detail, about the sexual abuse they suffered at the hands of Michael Jackson.

Ms Buckley, who founded the Aislinn Centre for survivors of child sexual abuse, told those who came to her for the first time that they never needed to convince her of the veracity of their claims.

And yet, in this enlightened age, there are so many who still can't and won't accept that the one-time King of Pop was a child rapist. 

'Bad' was the first album that I owned and in a family of six, having something all to yourself was precious thing. I played that CD until it stopped working when I was 12; every song became like a friend - Man in the Mirror, Smooth Criminal, The Way You Make Me Feel - each and every one of them was a work of art to my pre-teen ear. 

Watching the 'Leaving Neverland' documentary, I like many others said goodbye to my one-time idol. The talent of the man was undeniable and so too now is his depth of his depravity. 

When the Ryan Report (Commission into Child Abuse) was released in 2009 and detailed endemic abuse in Catholic care institutions, it was the testimony of the children that lent it its power.

Although the victims were now adult witnesses, it was the child's voice that leapt from every page and the child that remained forever irreparably damaged.

The two victims of Michael Jackson are grown men, married with careers and families, but it was the seven-year-old boys who recounted what had happened to them in that four-hour programme. It was the child's voice that told how this man groomed them, groomed their parents, isolated them, made them feel special and then robbed them of their innocence. 

In the storm around the broadcast, driven by fans who refuse to see this truth presented to them in the most horrific and tragic testimonies, the way to settle the 'debate' around his guilt or innocence seems pretty straightforward. 

 All anyone needs to do is to sit down and watch Wade Robson and James Safechuck tell their stories. I defy anyone to watch that four-hour film and then honestly declare that it's all untrue. 

I've had people say to me these last few days that they doubt the men's account of abuse - but it was the same people who were sceptical who also hadn't seen the documentary and watched the sheer fear, shame and confusion of those men as they relived their stolen childhoods. 

So now, most of us who did watch realise that the emperor had no clothes. The most famous man in the world at his peak wasn't just friends with children because he loved their company and wanted to relive the childhood that he never had - he was a paedophile. He got away with it because he was rich, famous and brilliant at being a popstar.

He got away with it because he was a master at grooming, concealing and shoring up any possibility that his victims might tell. He got away with it because most people chose to look the other way. 

I'm sure Christine Buckley would have plenty to say to the people who still think the emperor is wearing a wonderful suit of clothes, we'd do well to remember her words this week and to think how denying these victims their truth affects those children who are being abused now.

Our message should always be that we believe them before they open their mouths.