A personal history of the NHS

Kenneth Calman looks back over the past 60 years describing the impact that the NHS has had on him

I was born a few years before the NHS began and have been part of its progress over the past 60 years. For me, it has been part of my life, and it has saved my life. This is a personal history from someone who has been a patient, a carer, a professional and policy-maker.

My first introduction to the health service, at the age of nine, was the death of my father, aged 41, from a heart attack. He was a heavy smoker and his death occurred a few months after Richard Doll first published his key work on cigarette smoking and health. His death had a profound effect on me and, as my interest in medicine grew, it was clear that this event could have been avoided, or treated more appropriately.

Fifty-five years later, in 2008, I had an aortic valve replaced in the same hospital. I received impressive care from high-quality staff - from the surgeons, anaesthetists, nurses, dieticians and physiotherapists, and the whole, wonderful team.

What has changed in between? What would have happened to my father now? The increased range and effectiveness of treatments and diagnostic developments has been quite astonishing. In my own professional lifetime, I have been involved in transplantation, cancer therapy, palliative care and public health. In each of these areas, the outcomes for patients are now just so much better. And these are just in the fields I have been involved in. Other changes in childhood illnesses, child birth, heart disease, and mental health have been equally impressive.

The healthcare team is now well established, with the contribution of a wide range of professionals well recognised. Managing resources and making the best use of skills and expertise is now part of the ethos.

The involvement of patients and the public is critical, as I learned in my time as a professor of oncology. Patients and their families have so much to offer. We need their help.

The community-based specialties, including general practice and primary care, community child health and mental health, have been major successes. The management of the NHS has changed many times. Indeed, I have suggested that on formal occasions we might wear our campaign medals, for the reforms we have been part of: 1974, 1984, 1989 and so on. Quality issues now dominate the agenda. Patients and the public want to know what will happen to them, what the outcome will be, and how that compares to other places. The watchwords are evidence-based, outcome-focused and quality-driven. Individual choice is important, and for some, quality of life may be just as important as length of life.

One of the most significant aspects of the past 60 years has been a huge improvement in public health. Standardised mortality rates in adults have dropped from 101 in 1950 to 57 in 2005. Infant mortality has decreased over the same period from 50 per 1,000 live births to 5 per 1,000 live births. In terms of individual diseases, for example breast cancer, the outlook is now significantly better, a 34 per cent reduction in mortality since 1989, with the introduction of screening, specialisation in cancer care, and improved treatment.

We have learned that health is determined by a number of factors, including our biological make-up, our environment, lifestyle, social and economic circumstances and the quality of our health services. It could be argued that health services (where most of the money goes) are the least important in improving overall population health. Employment, poverty and educational standards are all important determinants of health that continue to present challenges.

There are three other factors that have seen very significant changes over the past 60 years: the increasing relevance of research in showing ways to improve treatment and quality of life; the education of health professionals; and ethical issues, which are now seen to be increasingly relevant.

My first introduction to the health service, at the age of nine, was the death of my father, aged 41, from a heart attack

My final point is the important development, over the past 10 years, of devolved parliaments and assemblies. This has resulted in some significant differences in the ways in which health services and public health interventions are introduced, organised and delivered. These are healthy developments but, in the future, such differences may become more significant within the UK and policy-makers will need to think through the consequences. Their effectiveness, or otherwise, will need careful analysis.

To return to what would have happened to my father in 2009. First, I like to think that he would not be smoking. Second, with the role of primary care in identifying disease at an early stage, his condition might have been picked up earlier and prevention instigated. Finally, if he had collapsed at work in 2009, he would have had a better chance of resuscitation and acute treatment.

These are just some of the changes that have occurred over 60 years, and there are more improvements to come. However, in making such changes we should not lose sight of the fundamental principles of the NHS. The NHS is precious, it too needs care.

Sir Kenneth Calman is president of the British Medical Association and is a former chief medical officer

This article first appeared in the 02 February 2009 issue of the New Statesman, Interview: Alistair Darling

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The French millennials marching behind Marine Le Pen

A Front National rally attracts former socialists with manicured beards, and a lesbian couple. 

“In 85 days, Marine will be President of the French Republic!” The 150-strong crowd cheered at the sound of the words. On stage, the speaker, the vice-president of the far-right Front National (FN), Florian Philippot, continued: “We will be told that it’s the apocalypse, by the same banks, media, politicians, who were telling the British that Brexit would be an immediate catastrophe.

"Well, they voted, and it’s not! The British are much better off than we are!” The applause grew louder and louder. 

I was in the medieval city of Metz, in a municipal hall near the banks of the Moselle River, a tributary of the Rhine from which the region takes its name. The German border lies 49km east; Luxembourg City is less than an hour’s drive away. This is the "Country of the Three Borders", equidistant from Strasbourg and Frankfurt, and French, German and French again after various wars. Yet for all that local history is deeply rooted in the wider European history, votes for the Front National rank among the highest nationally, and continue to rise at every poll. 

In rural Moselle, “Marine”, as the Front National leader Marine Le Pen is known, has an envoy. In 2014, the well-spoken, elite-educated Philippot, 35, ran for mayor in Forbach, a former miner’s town near the border. He lost to the Socialist candidate but has visited regularly since. Enough for the locals to call him “Florian".

I grew up in a small town, Saint-Avold, halfway between Metz and Forbach. When my grandfather was working in the then-prosperous coal mines, the Moselle region attracted many foreign workers. Many of my fellow schoolmates bore Italian and Polish surnames. But the last mine closed in 2004, and now, some of the immigrants’ grandchildren are voting for the National Front.

Returning, I can't help but wonder: How did my generation, born with the Maastricht treaty, end up turning to the Eurosceptic, hard right FN?

“We’ve seen what the other political parties do – it’s always the same. We must try something else," said Candice Bertrand, 23, She might not be part of the group asking Philippot for selfies, but she had voted FN at every election, and her family agreed. “My mum was a Communist, then voted for [Nicolas] Sarkozy, and now she votes FN. She’s come a long way.”  The way, it seemed, was political distrust.

Minutes earlier, Philippot had pleaded with the audience to talk to their relatives and neighbours. Bertrand had brought her girlfriend, Lola, whom she was trying to convince to vote FN.  Lola wouldn’t give her surname – her strongly left-wing family would “certainly not” like to know she was there. She herself had never voted.

This infuriated Bertrand. “Women have fought for the right to vote!” she declared. Daily chats with Bertrand and her family had warmed up Lola to voting Le Pen in the first round, although not yet in the second. “I’m scared of a major change,” she confided, looking lost. “It’s a bit too extreme.” Both were too young to remember 2002, when a presidential victory for the then-Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, was only a few percentage points away.

Since then, under the leadership of his daughter, Marine, the FN has broken every record. But in this region, the FN’s success isn’t new. In 2002, when liberal France was shocked to see Le Pen reach the second round of the presidential election, the FN was already sailing in Moselle. Le Pen grabbed 23.7 per cent of the Moselle vote in the first round and 21.9 per cent in the second, compared to 16.9 per cent and 17.8 per cent nationally. 

The far-right vote in Moselle remained higher than the national average before skyrocketing in 2012. By then, the younger, softer-looking Marine had taken over the party. In that year, the FN won an astonishing 24.7 per cent of the Moselle vote, and 17.8 per cent nationwide.

For some people of my generation, the FN has already provided opportunities. With his manicured beard and chic suit, Emilien Noé still looks like the Young Socialist he was between 16 and 18 years old. But looks can be deceiving. “I have been disgusted by the internal politics at the Socialist Party, the lack of respect for the low-ranked campaigners," he told me. So instead, he stood as the FN’s youngest national candidate to become mayor in his village, Gosselming, in 2014. “I entered directly into action," he said. (He lost). Now, at just 21, Noé is the FN’s youth coordinator for Eastern France.

Metz, Creative Commons licence credit Morgaine

Next to him stood Kevin Pfeiffer, 27. He told me he used to believe in the Socialist ideal, too - in 2007, as a 17-year-old, he backed Ségolène Royal against Sarkozy. But he is now a FN local councillor and acts as the party's general co-ordinator in the region. Both Noé and Pfeiffer radiated a quiet self-confidence, the sort that such swift rises induces. They shared a deep respect for the young-achiever-in-chief: Philippot. “We’re young and we know we can have perspectives in this party without being a graduate of l’ENA,” said another activist, Olivier Musci, 24. (The elite school Ecole Nationale d’Administration, or ENA, is considered something of a mandatory finishing school for politicians. It counts Francois Hollande and Nicolas Sarkozy among its alumni. Ironically, Philippot is one, too.)

“Florian” likes to say that the FN scores the highest among the young. “Today’s youth have not grown up in a left-right divide”, he told me when I asked why. “The big topics, for them, were Maastricht, 9/11, the Chinese competition, and now Brexit. They have grown up in a political world structured around two poles: globalism versus patriotism.” Notably, half his speech was dedicated to ridiculing the FN's most probably rival, the maverick centrist Emmanuel Macron. “It is a time of the nations. Macron is the opposite of that," Philippot declared. 

At the rally, the blue, red and white flame, the FN’s historic logo, was nowhere to be seen. Even the words “Front National” had deserted the posters, which were instead plastered with “in the name of the people” slogans beneath Marine’s name and large smile. But everyone wears a blue rose at the buttonhole. “It’s the synthesis between the left’s rose and the right’s blue colour”, Pfeiffer said. “The symbol of the impossible becoming possible.” So, neither left nor right? I ask, echoing Macron’s campaign appeal. “Or both left and right”, Pfeiffer answered with a grin.

This nationwide rebranding follows years of efforts to polish the party’s jackass image, forged by decades of xenophobic, racist and anti-Semitic declarations by Le Pen Sr. His daughter evicted him from the party in 2015.

Still, Le Pen’s main pledges revolve around the same issue her father obsessed over - immigration. The resources spent on "dealing with migrants" will, Le Pen promises, be redirected to address the concerns of "the French people". Unemployment, which has been hovering at 10 per cent for years, is very much one of them. Moselle's damaged job market is a booster for the FN - between 10 and 12 per cent of young people are unemployed.

Yet the two phenomena cannot always rationally be linked. The female FN supporters I met candidly admitted they drove from France to Luxembourg every day for work and, like many locals, often went shopping in Germany. Yet they hopep to see the candidate of “Frexit” enter the Elysee palace in May. “We've never had problems to work in Luxembourg. Why would that change?” asked Bertrand. (Le Pen's “144 campaign pledges” promise frontier workers “special measures” to cross the border once out of the Schengen area, which sounds very much like the concept of the Schengen area itself.)

Grégoire Laloux, 21, studied history at the University of Metz. He didn't believe in the European Union. “Countries have their own interests. There are people, but no European people,” he said. “Marine is different because she defends patriotism, sovereignty, French greatness and French history.” He compared Le Pen to Richelieu, the cardinal who made Louis XIV's absolute monarchy possible:  “She, too, wants to build a modern state.”

French populists are quick to link the country's current problems to immigration, and these FN supporters were no exception. “With 7m poor and unemployed, we can't accept all the world's misery,” Olivier Musci, 24, a grandchild of Polish and Italian immigrants, told me. “Those we welcome must serve the country and be proud to be here.”

Lola echoed this call for more assimilation. “At our shopping centre, everyone speaks Arabic now," she said. "People have spat on us, thrown pebbles at us because we're lesbians. But I'm in my country and I have the right to do what I want.” When I asked if the people who attacked them were migrants, she was not so sure. “Let's say, they weren't white.”

Trump promised to “Make America Great Again”. To where would Le Pen's France return? Would it be sovereign again? White again? French again? Ruled by absolutism again? She has blurred enough lines to seduce voters her father never could – the young, the gay, the left-wingers. At the end of his speech, under the rebranded banners, Philippot invited the audience to sing La Marseillaise with him. And in one voice they did: “To arms citizens! Form your battalions! March, march, let impure blood, water our furrows...” The song is the same as the one I knew growing up. But it seemed to me, this time, a more sinister tune.