NHS doesn't stand for "National High Street"

Providers in the new NHS must be free to integrate care in the patient interest, even if this has the effect of reducing competition argues Chris Hopson, the new chief executive of the Foundation Trust Network.

On the High Street, competition law creates a competitive market by ensuring a range of different suppliers, fostering competition based on price, avoiding monopolies and probing vertical integration in the supply chain (for example, supermarkets owning dairies).

But there are other models for preserving the consumer interest which recognise that certain areas of our national life have specific characteristics that require a different approach.

Last month, for example, saw a highly publicised row between two train operating companies bidding for a long term, monopoly, franchise. The franchise deliberately runs for long enough to enable the operator to earn a sufficient return on the expensive infrastructure needed to provide a quality customer service.

Last month also saw the closure of the football transfer window, which restricts the times when clubs can buy new players. Clubs also now have to abide by new Financial Fair Play rules which are designed to create a level playing field by restricting the amount of money wealthy owners can invest to "buy success".

What does all this have to do with the NHS? The Health and Social Care Act, passed earlier this year, marks the next stage in the journey away from a single, all encompassing, command and control health service. It continues work begun by the previous Labour administration to create a more plural system where, in some areas of care, a wider range of providers compete to provide services for patients. As a result, patients have greater choice rather than, for example, being forced to use the closest NHS hospital.

But the health sector is not the High Street. Competition is based on quality, not price, with the price of an increasing range of treatments determined by a single tariff, to be set in future by a central Commissioning Board and the sector regulator. There also needs to be a strong emphasis on integrating care, defined by the NHS Future Forum as "integration around the patient, not the system". The Forum went on to argue that "outcomes, incentives and system rules (i.e. competition and choice) need to be aligned accordingly".

It's easy to see why integrating care is so important. An 80 year old frail patient with multiple problems needs a joined-up network of acute and primary care services where geriatricians, nurses, physiotherapists, and podiatrists all understand the individual patient's needs, and the care provided has no gaps - an integrated care pathway.

Diabetic patients in Bolton now have a centre staffed by specialists that care for inpatients at the local hospital but also care for patients at home by working with GPs. The very GPs who, in future, are likely to have commissioned the centre to provide this service. Elderly patients in several Surrey care homes are visited by hospital based geriatricians who advise staff and help to prevent patients being admitted to hospital unnecessarily.

These are all examples of good, joined-up, care: benefitting individual patients, reducing cost and providing better value for money for the taxpayer. But they do involve integration across the NHS, between different organisations that may be commissioning or competing with each other to provide services. Some might argue this reduces competition.

The Foundation Trust Network, which represents the vast majority of acute, mental health, community and ambulance providers in the NHS, is co-hosting fringe sessions at all the party conferences to explore how the NHS can achieve the right balance between integration and competition. It's an important question as the detailed rules for the new NHS are finalised over the next six months.

We'll also be particularly focussed on the importance of the NHS sustaining a flourishing and vibrant set of public providers over the longer term. The way the new rules are formulated will have a crucial impact here. If we get them wrong, there's a danger, to focus on another cause celebre in the competition world, that these organisations could turn into the dairy farmers of the healthcare sector. They might end up working for payments that do not cover costs; forced to sign up to short term contracts that offer no incentive to invest in innovations that improve quality and efficiency and facing an uncertain financial future.

Chris Hopson is the chief executive of the Foundation Trust Network

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.