Lansley's magic trick with NHS waiting times

Whatever we may like to tell ourselves, NHS care is rationed by the amount of money we're willing to

So here's a good one from the savior/killer of the NHS (delete according to taste), Health Secretary Andrew Lansley: the NHS authorities are to be banned from deliberately holding up your operation so they can save a few quid.

From March 2012, PCTs -- the bodies currently responsible for commissioning and paying for your operation -- can no longer enforce "minimum waiting times". Nor can they place a financially-motivated cap on how many of a particular type of operation they'll pay for. If you need an operation, the PCT will be obliged to get it for you, as soon as they can. If it doesn't, its boss will get the sack.

At first glance this looks a bit of a no-brainer. No-one likes waiting for treatment, and the practice of enforcing minimum waiting lists in order to save money is pretty nasty. It was revealed in a rather stomach-churning passage from a report back in July, which warned that PCTs were deliberately increasing waiting times so that some patients would "remove themselves from the waiting list". If they make you wait long enough, the thinking was, you'll get bored and go private; or, you'll die. Either way, you're no longer their problem. Lovely.

It is not exactly clear how widespread the practice was. But the measures Lansley announced on Monday will force commissioners to make treatment decisions based on medical, rather than financial, realities. That's clearly a good thing, so the Health Secretary's announcement has gone down rather well. After the year he's had, that'll come as something of a relief.

What it won't do, though, is stop waiting times from rising. All Lansley has done is to ban PCTs from imposing a minimum waiting time.
Hospitals and consultants -- those actually doing the operations -- can still impose minimum waiting lists, based on an arbitrary number of patients rather than an arbitrary time period. And making patients wait is, from a financial perspective, useful.

Whatever we may like to tell ourselves, NHS care is rationed by the amount of money we're willing to pour into the system. Waiting lists help eke that money out over a longer period. It's no coincidence that they seem to be creeping up while the NHS scrambles to find £20bn of savings. If PCTs really have been letting waiting times grow to save money, it stands to reason that forcibly cutting them back will cost more. That £20bn just got a lot harder to find.

What Lansley's announcement does do, though, is to weaken commissioners' hand over spending decisions, while leaving the power with hospitals. That's the exact opposite of what was promised by the ungainly Health and Social Care Bill, which was meant to devolve power to those closest to the patients. Devolution, apparently, can stuff it.

None of this is to say that minimum waiting times were a good thing, as in most cases they're probably not. But, for most patients, this latest announcement won't cut waiting times. With the NHS still chasing those savings, they're likely to keep creeping up.

It does, though, give Lansley a neat response to all those opposition attack lines about him having dumped Labour's 18-week waiting time target. Now whenever Andy Burnham pipes up with that one, he can just point to this latest statement and blame waiting lists on NHS managers. That won't make him many friends in the health service, but it might win him a few political points.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of EducationInvestor.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. He is on Twitter, almost continously, as @JonnElledge.

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Leader: Trump and an age of disorder

Mr Trump’s disregard for domestic and international norms represents an unprecedented challenge to established institutions.

The US presidency has not always been held by men of distinction and honour, but Donald Trump is by some distance its least qualified occupant. The leader of the world’s sole superpower has no record of political or military service and is ignorant of foreign affairs. Throughout his campaign, he repeatedly showed himself to be a racist, a misogynist, a braggart and a narcissist.

The naive hope that Mr Trump’s victory would herald a great moderation was dispelled by his conduct during the transition. He compared his country’s intelligence services to those of Nazi Germany and repeatedly denied Russian interference in the election. He derided Nato as “obsolete” and predicted the demise of the European Union. He reaffirmed his commitment to dismantling Obamacare and to overturning Roe v Wade. He doled out jobs to white nationalists, protectionists and family members. He denounced US citizens for demonstrating against him. Asked whether he regretted any part of his vulgar campaign, he replied: “No, I won.”

Of all his predilections, Mr Trump’s affection for Vladimir Putin is perhaps the most troubling. When the 2012 Republican presidential nominee, Mitt Romney, warned that Russia was the “number one geopolitical foe” of the US, he was mocked by Barack Obama. Yet his remark proved prescient. Rather than regarding Mr Putin as a foe, however, Mr Trump fetes him as a friend. The Russian president aims to use the US president’s goodwill to secure the removal of American sanctions, recognition of Russia’s annexation of Crimea and respect for the murderous reign of the Syrian president, Bashar al-Assad. He has a worryingly high chance of success.

Whether or not Mr Trump has personal motives for his fealty (as a lurid security dossier alleges), he and Mr Putin share a political outlook. Both men desire a world in which “strongmen” are free to abuse their citizens’ human rights without fear of external rebuke. Mr Trump’s refusal to commit to Nato’s principle of collective defence provides Mr Putin with every incentive to pursue his expansionist desires. The historic achievement of peace and stability in eastern Europe is in danger.

As he seeks reconciliation with Russia, Mr Trump is simultaneously pursuing conflict with China. He broke with precedent by speaking on the telephone with the Taiwanese president, Tsai Ing-wen, and used Twitter to berate the Chinese government. Rex Tillerson, Mr Trump’s secretary of state nominee, has threatened an American blockade of the South China Sea islands.

Mr Trump’s disregard for domestic and international norms represents an unprecedented challenge to established institutions. The US constitution, with its separation of powers, was designed to restrain autocrats such as the new president. Yet, in addition to the White House, the Republicans also control Congress and two-thirds of governorships and state houses. Mr Trump’s first Supreme Court appointment will ensure a conservative judicial majority. The decline of established print titles and the growth of “fake news” weaken another source of accountability.

In these circumstances, there is a heightened responsibility on the US’s allies to challenge, rather than to indulge, Mr Trump. Angela Merkel’s warning that co-operation was conditional on his respect for liberal and democratic values was a model of the former. Michael Gove’s obsequious interview with Mr Trump was a dismal example of the latter.

Theresa May has rightly rebuked the president for his treatment of women and has toughened Britain’s stance against Russian revanchism. Yet, although the UK must maintain working relations with the US, she should not allow the prospect of a future trade deal to skew her attitude towards Mr Trump. Any agreement is years away and the president’s protectionist proclivities could yet thwart British hopes of a beneficial outcome.

The diplomatic and political conventions embodied by the “special relationship” have endured for more than seven decades. However, Mr Trump’s election may necessitate their demise. It was the belief that the UK must stand “shoulder to shoulder” with the US that led Tony Blair into the ruinous Iraq War. In this new age of disorder, Western leaders must avoid being willing accomplices to Mr Trump’s agenda. Intense scepticism, rather than sycophancy, should define their response.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era