The Government has broken a critical promise on the NHS

A new regulation means that every service commissioned will have to be open either to competitive tendering or the Any Qualified Provider system.

“The NHS is safe in our hands”, the government has been proclaiming - and it promised last year that it wouldn't be forcing competition into the new system for commissioning services.

Yet, surreptitiously, Jeremy Hunt has introduced in the National Health Service (Procurement, Patient Choice and Competition) Regulations 2013 (S.I., 2013, No. 257) - a regulation that does just that. Every service commissioned, with a very small number of exceptions, will have to be open either to competitive tendering or the Any Qualified Provider system. These are bureaucratic, dull-sounding, words, which could have a huge impact.

Unless there's a big public and parliamentary outcry, this fundamental change to the NHS will open almost every aspect of the NHS to the foreign multinational healthcare companies and money-draining, staff-exploiting ways. And it is a massive broken promise. A widely publicised letter from then Health Secretary Andrew Lansley on 16 February 2012, issued as the Health and Social Care Bill struggled to get through parliament, said: "It is a fundamental principle of the Bill that you as commissioners, not the Secretary of State and not regulators, should decide when and how competition should be used to serve your patients’ interests."

Jeremy Hunt has just spectacularly broken that promise - and he must not be allowed to get away with it.

Under his plan the regulator Monitor will be able to decide when commissioners have breached competition regulations, will be able to set aside contracts and impose competitive tendering and the offer of Any Qualified Provider. Green MP Caroline Lucas is with Ed Miliband jointly proposing a “prayer” (that’s the official form – and a further argument for modernisation of parliamentary procedure), that if it wins sufficient parliamentary support could at least force parliament to debate the regulations. (Please email your MP to ask them to back it – EDM No 1104.)

Public opposition is also going to be important – please sign the 38 Degrees petition.

If allowed the come into effect, the damage caused by these regulation will be almost irreversible, since once our much-valued local hospitals and services are broken up, it would take an immense amount of money to re-establish them.

Moving towards an American-style system, immensely expensive, profit-driven, which doesn't put the needs of patients first, is an ongoing disaster (we’ve already gone far too far down this road, and been seeing the consequences) and this is a big step on the accelerator towards that.

I’m delighted that Green Party spring conference last weekend strongly backed an emergency motion opposing Jeremy Hunt’s regulation, and restating our commitment to a publicly owned and publicly run NHS.

The Hunt regulations are part of a broader government direction that’s clearly driven by ideology. This government has a simple mantra – private good, public bad. Despite the fact that we know that outsourcing is a disastrous, expensive model that delivers poor services and slashes wages, this government is wedded to this ideology – just as is far too much of the top bureaucracy of the NHS, who either come from the private health sector, or are the glossy recipients of mediocre MBAs, who’ve learnt a few neo-liberal management mantras and know nothing else.

The NHS is a world-admired system, which despite the damage done by the marketising trend that started under Margaret Thatcher and was enhanced by Tony Blair’s Labour, still provides for the vast majority of Britons superb quality healthcare, which they receive independent of their financial status. The system is under strain, with our ageing population, increasingly expensive medical technology and massive drug company profits. And it is under attack from a rightwing media that’s backing the privatising agenda.

We do need to make improvements, particularly to focus more on prevention than treating people when they’re ill, and ensure that perverse incentives and bad management don’t produce more Mid Staffs, but bleeding off billions in profit to multinational health companies is not only financial madness, it will also result in huge damage to the service we all receive – and all need.

Natalie Bennett is the leader of the Green Party of England and Wales and a former editor of Guardian Weekly.

Jeremy Hunt. Photograph: Getty Images

Natalie Bennett is the leader of the Green Party of England and Wales and a former editor of Guardian Weekly.

Parliament TV screengrab
Show Hide image

MP Michelle Thomson's full speech on rape at 14: "I am a survivor"

The MP was attacked as a teenager. 

On Thursday, the independent MP for Edinburgh West Michelle Thomson used a debate marking the UN’s International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women to describe her own experience of rape. Thomson, 51, said she wanted to break the taboo among her generation about speaking about the subject.

MPs listening were visibly moved by the speech, and afterwards Thomson tweeted she was "overwhelmed" by the response. 

Here is her speech in full:

I am going to relay an event that happened to me many years ago. I want to give a very personal perspective to help people, both in this place and outside, understand one element of sexual violence against women.

When I was 14, I was raped. As is common, it was by somebody who was known to me. He had offered to walk me home from a youth event. In those days, everybody walked everywhere - it was quite common. It was early evening. It was not dark. I was wearing— I am imagining and guessing—jeans and a sweatshirt. I knew my way around where I lived - I was very comfortable - and we went a slightly differently way, but I did not think anything of it. He told me that he wanted to show me something in a wooded area. At that point, I must admit that I was alarmed. I did have a warning bell, but I overrode that warning bell because I knew him and, therefore, there was a level of trust in place. To be honest, looking back at that point, I do not think I knew what rape was. It was not something that was talked about. My mother never talked to me about it, and I did not hear other girls or women talking about it.

It was mercifully quick and I remember first of all feeling surprise, then fear, then horror as I realised that I quite simply could not escape, because obviously he was stronger than me. There was no sense, even initially, of any sexual desire from him, which, looking back again, I suppose I find odd. My senses were absolutely numbed, and thinking about it now, 37 years later, I cannot remember hearing anything when I replay it in my mind. As a former professional musician who is very auditory, I find that quite telling. I now understand that your subconscious brain—not your conscious brain—decides on your behalf how you should respond: whether you take flight, whether you fight or whether you freeze. And I froze, I must be honest.

Afterwards I walked home alone. I was crying, I was cold and I was shivering. I now realise, of course, that that was the shock response. I did not tell my mother. I did not tell my father. I did not tell my friends. And I did not tell the police. I bottled it all up inside me. I hoped briefly—and appallingly—that I might be pregnant so that that would force a situation to help me control it. Of course, without support, the capacity and resources that I had within me to process it were very limited.

I was very ashamed. I was ashamed that I had “allowed this to happen to me”. I had a whole range of internal conversations: “I should have known. Why did I go that way? Why did I walk home with him? Why didn’t I understand the danger? I deserved it because I was too this, too that.” I felt that I was spoiled and impure, and I really felt revulsion towards myself.

Of course, I detached from the child that I had been up until then. Although in reality, at the age of 14, that was probably the start of my sexual awakening, at that time, remembering back, sex was “something that men did to women”, and perhaps this incident reinforced that early belief.​
I briefly sought favour elsewhere and I now understand that even a brief period of hypersexuality is about trying to make sense of an incident and reframing the most intimate of acts. My oldest friends, with whom I am still friends, must have sensed a change in me, but because I never told them they did not know of the cause. I allowed myself to drift away from them for quite a few years. Indeed, I found myself taking time off school and staying at home on my own, listening to music and reading and so on.

I did have a boyfriend in the later years of school and he was very supportive when I told him about it, but I could not make sense of my response - and it is my response that gives weight to the event. I carried that guilt, anger, fear, sadness and bitterness for years.

When I got married 12 years later, I felt that I had a duty tell my husband. I wanted him to understand why there was this swaddled kernel of extreme emotion at the very heart of me, which I knew he could sense. But for many years I simply could not say the words without crying—I could not say the words. It was only in my mid-40s that I took some steps to go and get help.

It had a huge effect on me and it fundamentally - and fatally - undermined my self-esteem, my confidence and my sense of self-worth. Despite this, I am blessed in my life: I have been happily married for 25 years. But if this was the effect of one small, albeit significant, event in my life stage, how must it be for those women who are carrying it on a day-by-day basis?

I thought carefully about whether I should speak about this today, and it was people’s intake of breath and the comment, “What? You’re going to talk about this?”, that motivated me to do it, because there is still a taboo about sharing this kind of information. Certainly for people of my generation, it is truly shocking to talk in public about this sort of thing.

As has been said, rape does not just affect the woman; it affects the family as well. Before my mother died early of cancer, I really wanted to tell her, but I could not bring myself to do it. I have a daughter and if something happened to her and she could not share it with me, I would be appalled. It was possibly cowardly, but it was an act of love that meant that I protected my mother.

As an adult, of course I now know that rape is not about sex at all - it is all about power and control, and it is a crime of violence. I still pick up on when the myths of rape are perpetuated form a male perspective: “Surely you could have fought him off. Did you scream loudly enough?” And the suggestion by some men that a woman is giving subtle hints or is making it up is outrageous. Those assumptions put the woman at the heart of cause, when she should be at the heart of effect. A rape happens when a man makes a decision to hurt someone he feels he can control. Rapes happen because of the rapist, not because of the victim.

We women in our society have to stand up for each other. We have to be courageous. We have to call things out and say where things are wrong. We have to support and nurture our sisters as we do with our sons. Like many women of my age, I have on occasion encountered other aggressive actions towards me, both in business and in politics. But one thing that I realise now is that I am not scared and he was. I am not scared. I am not a victim. I am a survivor.

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.