Richard Horton, editor of the Lancet: Cowards, betrayers and appeasers have destroyed the NHS

All three parties have colluded in the creation of ideal conditions for an unprecedented colonisation of the NHS by an aggressive, profit-seeking private sector. NHS SOS, a new book edited by Jacky Davis and Raymond Tallis, explains how it was done.

NHS SOS: How the NHS Was Betrayed and How We Can Save It
Edited by Jacky Davis and Raymond Tallis
Oneworld, 288pp, £8.99

Andy Burnham, the shadow secretary of state for health, tells a revealing story about his last days in the Department of Health, back in May 2010. As Burnham was saying his goodbyes to civil servants in Richmond House, David Nicholson, the fierce chief executive of the National Health Service, warned that if he returned after the election, his priority would have to be efficiency – achieving a better NHS with less money. A financially fragile health service could tolerate no more reorganisations.

When, just two months after the election, Burnham read Andrew Lansley’s extra - ordinary white paper Equity and Excellence: Liberating the NHS, he was dumbstruck. A huge top-down reorganisation was being proposed, despite what he knew to be the department’s view that such changes were unwanted and unsustainable. Something seemed to have gone very wrong at the heart of government.

What we now know – and what Jacky Davis’s and Raymond Tallis’s new book, NHS SOS, so lucidly describes – is that a very British coup had taken place. During the run-up to the election, the Conservative Party had claimed that there would be “no more top-down reorganisations of the NHS”. Despite this, Lansley soon infiltrated the Department of Health, ignored the advice of his most senior civil servants and implanted his carefully constructed plan to end more than 60 years of consensus that it was the duty of the secretary of state to provide a comprehensive, continuous and equitable health service that was free at the point of use.

Lansley set about a major – indeed, revolutionary – reversal. Like many coups, this did not result in immediate victory but it started a civil war within the NHS that today threatens to create further crises, providing justi - fication for even more destructive reforms in the future.

Conservatives have an honourable philosophy that unites them and that seems to make some intuitive sense. They argue that competition is by far the best way to solve society’s ailments. Competition certainly works in sorting out the best football teams from the worst. In business, competitive instincts can sharpen minds to create new products that transform important aspects of our lives. It would be entirely natural to think that competition among health providers would enhance the quality of our NHS. The problem for the Conservatives is that there is not one shred of reliable evidence to prove that competition improves health. On the contrary, we know only too well that creating competitive markets in health is extremely harmful.

The US has the most advanced marketbased health system in the world. There, competition has driven up costs, created enormous variations in the quality of services available and fuelled distortions and disparities that make the idea of equity a pipe dream. Despite this, Conservatives, ably and surprisingly supported by their Liberal Democrat partners, have succeeded in creating conditions for the unprecedented colonisation of the NHS by an aggressive, profitseeking private sector. For these reasons, it is a simple, although appalling, truth that the Health and Social Care Act 2012 marked the end of the NHS.

NHS SOS explains how it was lost. It is a painful story and one that we must confront if we are to have any hope of reclaiming what was once ours. There were three catastrophic failures. The first great error was made by the Labour Party. As Tallis argues, “Labour was most culpable.” It was a suc - cession of Labour ministers, led by Alan Milburn and Patricia Hewitt, who prepared the NHS for privatisation. Having betrayed their visionary Labour forebears, many of them went on to line their pockets with well-paid consultancies in the private sector that they had done so much to foster.

The second failure lay with the media and especially with the BBC. Journalists consistently failed to ask questions about who would profit from Lansley’s reforms. They failed to explain the conflicts of interest staining so many of those designing his plans (from management consultants such as McKinsey to “think tanks” such as the King’s Fund). And they failed to point out that Lansley’s bill would dissolve the vital link between the secretary of state and his duty to provide care.

Perhaps the most atrocious betrayal of all came from an unexpected quarter – the medical profession. The British Medical Association pursued a policy of appeasement, which rendered it guilty of a crime of quite astonishing proportions: the death of a health system that had led the world in proving that a universal right to health could also be a universal symbol of our respect – and responsibility – for one another.

The Royal Colleges preferred to fight their own internecine wars rather than unite in opposition to a government that they each privately detested. The most senior medical leaders within government – notably the chief medical officer – chose to remain silent. The authors of NHS SOS use words such as “feeble” and “dismal” to describe their medical colleagues. They are too kind.

Tallis writes, “There is room for hope.” Maybe. Labour must unequivocally commit to repealing the Health and Social Care Act 2012. Campaigns must be launched, political pressure applied, evidence of harm gathered, so-called leaders held to account. Most of all, we need “an urgent inquest into the abysmal failure of professional leadership” within medicine.

What we have learned from the past decade is this: Labour, yes Labour, initiated a process that eventually erased an institution that had become a beacon of advanced democracy. The Conservatives happily used Labour’s perversions to accelerate this destruction. And the Liberal Democrats? They colluded and connived. If there is a hell, I look forward to the day when I meet these cowards, betrayers and appeasers – burning in obloquy.

Andrew Lansley, upon arrival at the Department of Health, ended "more than 60 years of consensus" that secretary of state should keep the NHS "free at the point of use". Photograph: Getty Images.

This article first appeared in the 15 July 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The New Machiavelli

Getty
Show Hide image

Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

0800 7318496