A dermatologist checks for skin cancer. Photo: Joe Raedle/Getty Images
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Worried about your moles? GPs are here to help – except they’re not allowed

A deluge of mole-owners have put pressure on health services.

A letter arrived this past week from our local dermatology department, telling us that it is closed to new patients. Actually, that’s not quite true: the department will still see suspected cases of the two most serious forms of skin cancer, but everyone else will have to go elsewhere. Except that there isn’t anywhere else to go. GPs manage the vast bulk of skin problems but there is a range of conditions that need consultant input. For the time being, that service is not available.

There are a few factors behind this, not least the government’s 18-week referral-to-treatment target. If a hospital isn’t able to see patients within that timescale then it gets a big slap on the wrist. The immediate solution for a department facing imminent breaches is to stop taking referrals, giving itself breathing space in which to deal with the backlog.

Where has the backlog come from? The dermatologists believe it’s a direct result of the Be Clear on Cancer campaign, the skin cancer component of which was piloted in our area last year, advising people to get moles checked if they’d noticed any change in them. The problem is that a) virtually everyone has moles, and b) invariably over time they change. Most often they are harmless. The problem with cancer campaigns is they push these issues to the forefront of people’s minds, so when a small change occurs it becomes disproportionately worrying. This has led to a surge in the numbers of people consulting their GPs with pigmented skin lesions. While dermatology would like to blame the cancer awareness campaign for its present woes, it has, as a specialty, made its own contributions to the crisis.

The problem for GPs is that, although it is usually possible to be sure a mole is harmless, sometimes there is an element of doubt. In the early years of my career, we would solve this dilemma by making a simple excision under local anaesthetic at the surgery and sending the specimen to the lab to ensure it was definitely benign. On rare occasions, the biopsy would show it was an unsuspected melanoma (the most aggressive form of skin cancer), which would require that the patient be referred for wider excision of the problem area, and possibly further cancer treatment.

Over the past decade, however, this practice has come to be frowned upon, largely because dermatologists are mistrustful of GPs doing an adequate job of the primary excision. In fact, most GPs carrying out minor surgery are more than competent – but the dermatologists’ response was to turn the assessment of pigmented lesions into a secondary-care-only service. Any GP these days who performs an excision biopsy of a pigmented lesion that turns out to be an unsuspected melanoma will face an investigation and severe sanction for having dared to deviate from “best practice”.

This same process of the specialisation of skin surgery has extended to encompass even the most indolent form of skin cancer, called basal cell carcinoma. This rarely spreads, and most types are readily treatable in primary care. This was also standard practice in my early years as a GP but again it has now become a specialist-only pursuit. GP minor surgery has gone from being something performed at virtually every practice to something only a minority maintains skills in.

The resultant flow of work to hospitals has been rather good for dermatologists, ensuring a steady expansion of consultant numbers and the general building of empires. Now, however, the chickens are coming home to roost. We are a society increasingly fearful of disease, bombarded on all sides by “Watch Out!” messages.

The recent tidal wave of worried mole-owners could have been managed in primary care but for the deskilling and dismantling of GP minor surgery. We need to restate our confidence in competent GPs being allowed to manage most of these cases without referral. Then dermatologists may again find that they have the capacity to do what only they can properly do. 

This article first appeared in the 13 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Assad vs Isis

David Young
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The Tories are the zombie party: with an ageing, falling membership, still they stagger on to victory

One Labour MP in Brighton spotted a baby in a red Babygro and said to me: “There’s our next [Labour] prime minister.”

All football clubs have “ultras” – and, increasingly, political parties do, too: although, in the case of political parties, their loudest and angriest supporters are mostly found on the internet. The SNP got there first: in the early days of email, journalists at the Scotsman used to receive bilious missives complaining about its coverage – or, on occasion, lack of coverage – of what the Scottish National Party was up to. The rest soon followed, with Ukip, the Labour Party and even the crushed Liberal Democrats now boasting a furious electronic horde.

The exception is the Conservative Party. Britain’s table-topping team might have its first majority in 18 years and is widely expected in Westminster to remain in power for another decade. But it doesn’t have any fans. The party’s conference in Manchester, like Labour’s in Brighton, will be full to bursting. But where the Labour shindig is chock-full of members, trade unionists and hangers-on from the charitable sector, the Conservative gathering is a more corporate affair: at the fringes I attended last year, lobbyists outnumbered members by four to one. At one, the journalist Peter Oborne demanded to know how many people in the room were party members. It was standing room only – but just four people put their hands up.

During Grant Shapps’s stint at Conservative headquarters, serious attempts were made to revive membership. Shapps, a figure who is underrated because of his online blunders, and his co-chair Andrew Feldman were able to reverse some of the decline, but they were running just to stand still. Some of the biggest increases in membership came in urban centres where the Tories are not in contention to win a seat.

All this made the 2015 election win the triumph of a husk. A party with a membership in long-term and perhaps irreversible decline, which in many seats had no activists at all, delivered crushing defeats to its opponents across England and Wales.

Like José Mourinho’s sides, which, he once boasted, won “without the ball”, the Conservatives won without members. In Cumbria the party had no ground campaign and two paper candidates. But letters written by the Defence Secretary, Michael Fallon, were posted to every household where someone was employed making Trident submarines, warning that their jobs would be under threat under a Labour government. This helped the Tories come close to taking out both Labour MPs, John Woodcock in Barrow and Furness and Jamie Reed in Copeland. It was no small feat: Labour has held Barrow since 1992 and has won Copeland at every election it has fought.

The Tories have become the zombies of British politics: still moving though dead from the neck down. And not only moving, but thriving. One Labour MP in Brighton spotted a baby in a red Babygro and said to me: “There’s our next [Labour] prime minister.” His Conservative counterparts also believe that their rivals are out of power for at least a decade.

Yet there are more threats to the zombie Tories than commonly believed. The European referendum will cause endless trouble for their whips over the coming years. And for all there’s a spring in the Conservative step at the moment, the party has a majority of only 12 in the Commons. Parliamentary defeats could easily become commonplace. But now that Labour has elected Jeremy Corbyn – either a more consensual or a more chaotic leader than his predecessors, depending on your perspective – division within parties will become a feature, rather than a quirk, at Westminster. There will be “splits” aplenty on both sides of the House.

The bigger threat to Tory hegemony is the spending cuts to come, and the still vulnerable state of the British economy. In the last parliament, George Osborne’s cuts fell predominantly on the poorest and those working in the public sector. They were accompanied by an extravagant outlay to affluent retirees. As my colleague Helen Lewis wrote last week, over the next five years, cuts will fall on the sharp-elbowed middle classes, not just the vulnerable. Reductions in tax credits, so popular among voters in the abstract, may prove just as toxic as the poll tax and the abolition of the 10p bottom income-tax rate – both of which were popular until they were actually implemented.

Added to that, the British economy has what the economist Stephen King calls “the Titanic problem”: a surplus of icebergs, a deficit of lifeboats. Many of the levers used by Gordon Brown and Mervyn King in the last recession are not available to David Cameron and the chief of the Bank of England, Mark Carney: debt-funded fiscal stimulus is off the table because the public finances are already in the red. Interest rates are already at rock bottom.

Yet against that grim backdrop, the Conservatives retain the two trump cards that allowed them to win in May: questions about Labour’s economic competence, and the personal allure of David Cameron. The public is still convinced that the cuts are the result of “the mess” left by Labour, however unfair that charge may be. If a second crisis strikes, it could still be the Tories who feel the benefit, if they can convince voters that the poor state of the finances is still the result of New Labour excess rather than Cameroon failure.

As for Cameron, in 2015 it was his lead over Ed Miliband as Britons’ preferred prime minister that helped the Conservatives over the line. This time, it is his withdrawal from politics which could hand the Tories a victory even if the economy tanks or cuts become widely unpopular. He could absorb the hatred for the failures and the U-turns, and then hand over to a fresher face. Nicky Morgan or a Sajid Javid, say, could yet repeat John Major’s trick in 1992, breathing life into a seemingly doomed Conservative project. For Labour, the Tory zombie remains frustratingly lively. 

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.

This article first appeared in the 01 October 2015 issue of the New Statesman, The Tory tide