The NHS: even more cherished than the monarchy and the army

New polling by British Future shows that while attitudes to the NHS have fluctuated, commitment to its founding principles has remained remarkably consistent.

January often heralds a couple of weeks of absent mindedly getting the year wrong, but it has been easier than usual to remember that it is not 2012 anymore. 2013 feels like an altogether more ordinary year, after the exuberance of the Olympics, as attention returns to the long slog through the economic crunch.

Yet it turns out that the national events of 2012, gently satirised as the year of the "Jubilympics", do not represent the main sources of national pride in Britain.

The NHS beat both the monarchy and the Olympics to take gold in the patriotism stakes, as Ipsos-Mori's polling for British Future's new State of the Nation 2013 report, published today, shows. The army ranked second, when pollsters asked people which institutions made people proudest to be British, with Team GB taking bronze, nudging the royals off the podium altogether.

The NHS was most popular with Britons from all backgrounds, being top for both white and non-white Britons, and across social classes, though the oldest segment of the population put the monarchy first, and the under-24s the army.

Seventy two per cent of people declared the NHS to be "a symbol of what is great about Britain and we must do everything we can to maintain it" while one in five (21 per cent) saw it as "a great project for its time, but we probably can not maintain its current form".

That helps to explain why the 65th birthday of the NHS also provides the anniversary of 2013 which is most cherished by the public, proving more popular (on 54 per cent) than the 60th anniversary of the Coronation (43 per cent) with the discovery of the structure of DNA (29 per cent). Anniversaries of the London Underground  (15 per cent), the Beatles (15 per cent), Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (11 per cent) and the Football Association (eight per cent) and Doctor Who (seven per cent) trailed. The 40th anniversary of EEC membership did worst of all, with just three per cent of people choosing that as a source of British pride.

Firstly, the NHS fully merited its place in Danny Boyle's Olympic opening ceremony. While attitudes on the performance of the NHS have fluctuated a great deal - affected by events, funding and political controversies -  commitment to its founding principles has remained remarkably consistent.

Secondly, there is a message for politicians here too. Politicians or wonks who want a radical overhaul of the NHS often express frustration at the level of public sentiment behind it, reflected in Nigel Lawson's famous rueful description of the NHS as "the closest thing the English have to a religion". The debate has echoes of that over the monarchy, with many of the roles reversed, as liberal-left defenders draw on a reservoir of symbolic sentiment, while right-of-centre wonks mutter about the difficulty of breaking through with a "rational debate" given the resonance of that frame.

The poll shows why it made a lot of sense for David Cameron to seek to define himself, in opposition, as a champion of the NHS, though the polarised controversy over the motives and outcomes of the coalition's NHS reforms made that a deeply contested question. The breadth of support for the NHS as a symbol in this poll underlines the lesson that support for change to the NHS depends on securing trust about motivation and intention. Any reform, from whatever poltical perspective, will have a chance of public support if changes are understood to be upholding the core NHS principles. They will be treated with suspicion if thought to be subverting them.  Those who want to change the NHS may need to learn to love it first.

But if the NHS represents a now deeply entrenched fairness ideal - that healthcare should not depend on the ability to pay - I suspect the strength of attachment to the NHS goes well beyond the politics of healthcare, and is much more personal, reflecting its presence on some of the most important days of our lives.

I am a child of the NHS. I feel a particular connection to it because I wouldn't exist without it.  I was born in a hospital, the Doncaster Royal Infirmary, in spring 1974, under the care of the NHS, because my parents, born 4,000 miles apart in Guajarat, India and Cork, Ireland, had both come to this country to work for the NHS. That is also the everyday story of how our most cherished national institution has always depended on immigration, and integration, to be able to offer its public service.

But my main memories of the NHS are that its hospitals are also where my children were born. It is where we have the serenity of knowing that we can go - once or twice on an  adventure to drive out to see the "night doctor" in the middle of the night - to check everything is OK. We cherish the NHS because it turns the idea of "cradle to grave" from a metaphor into a reality.

The only cloud on the horizon was a dip in support among the under-24s, who placed the army ahead of the NHS as a source of pride. That reflects a broader inter-generational erosion of support for ideas of welfare and social solidarity more generally, set out in Ipsos-Mori's work on attitudes shifts across generations.

There will be wide support for celebrating the 65th birthday of the NHS this year - but it may be an open question whether the moment could be used to extend its appeal for several more generations to come.

British Futures's new report, State of the Nation: Where is bittersweet Britain heading?, can be read here.

"The NHS fully merited its place in Danny Boyle's Olympic opening ceremony". Photograph: Getty Images.

Sunder Katwala is director of British Future and former general secretary of the Fabian Society.

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Pity the Premier League – so much money can get you into all sorts of bother

You’ve got to feel sorry for our top teams. It's hard work, maintaining their brand.

I had lunch with an old girlfriend last week. Not old, exactly, just a young woman of 58, and not a girlfriend as such – though I have loads of female friends; just someone I knew as a girl on our estate in Cumbria when she was growing up and I was friendly with her family.

She was one of many kind, caring people from my past who wrote to me after my wife died in February, inviting me to lunch, cheer up the poor old soul. Which I’ve not been. So frightfully busy.

I never got round to lunch till last week.

She succeeded in her own career, became pretty well known, but not as well off financially as her husband, who is some sort of City whizz.

I visited her large house in the best part of Mayfair, and, over lunch, heard about their big estate in the West Country and their pile in Majorca, finding it hard to take my mind back to the weedy, runny-nosed little girl I knew when she was ten.

Their three homes employ 25 staff in total. Which means there are often some sort of staff problems.

How awful, I do feel sorry for you, must be terrible. It’s not easy having money, I said, managing somehow to keep back the fake tears.

Afterwards, I thought about our richest football teams – Man City, Man United and Chelsea. It’s not easy being rich like them, either.

In football, there are three reasons you have to spend the money. First of all, because you can. You have untold wealth, so you gobble up possessions regardless of the cost, and regardless of the fact that, as at Man United, you already have six other superstars playing in roughly the same position. You pay over the odds, as with Pogba, who is the most expensive player in the world, even though any halfwit knows that Messi and Ronaldo are infinitely more valuable. It leads to endless stresses and strains and poor old Wayne sitting on the bench.

Obviously, you are hoping to make the team better, and at the same time have the luxury of a whole top-class team sitting waiting on the bench, who would be desired by every other club in Europe. But the second reason you spend so wildly is the desire to stop your rivals buying the same players. It’s a spoiler tactic.

Third, there’s a very modern and stressful element to being rich in football, and that’s the need to feed the brand. Real Madrid began it ten years or so ago with their annual purchase of a galáctico. You have to refresh the team with a star name regularly, whatever the cost, if you want to keep the fans happy and sell even more shirts round the world each year.

You also need to attract PROUD SUPPLIERS OF LAV PAPER TO MAN CITY or OFFICIAL PROVIDER OF BABY BOTTLES TO MAN UNITED or PARTNERS WITH CHELSEA IN SUGARY DRINK. These suppliers pay a fortune to have their product associated with a famous Premier League club – and the club knows that, to keep up the interest, they must have yet another exciting £100m star lined up for each new season.

So, you can see what strains and stresses having mega money gets them into, trying to balance all these needs and desires. The manager will get the blame in the end when things start to go badly on the pitch, despite having had to accommodate some players he probably never craved. If you’re rich in football, or in most other walks in life, you have to show it, have all the required possessions, otherwise what’s the point of being rich?

One reason why Leicester did so well last season was that they had no money. This forced them to bond and work hard, make do with cheapo players, none of them rubbish, but none the sort of galáctico a super-Prem club would bother with.

Leicester won’t repeat that trick this year. It was a one-off. On the whole, the £100m player is better than the £10m player. The rich clubs will always come good. But having an enormous staff, at any level, is all such a worry for the rich. You have to feel sorry . . .

Hunter Davies’s “The Beatles Book” is published by Ebury

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 29 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, May’s new Tories