Last chance to save the NHS in the House of Lords

A new raft of privatising measures will be voted on tomorrow.

Tomorrow there will be a debate and vote critical to the future of the NHS in England. Labour Lord Philip Hunt has laid a fatal motion to try and kill the "Procurement, Patient Choice and Competition Regulations" that the government have issued under the Health and Social Care Act. The Regulations open up England’s NHS to competition on an unprecedented scale by putting the market at the heart of commissioning decisions.

When the government first released the regulations in February I wrote an article with Dr Lucy Reynolds explaining that they betrayed the political promises and assurances given when the government were struggling to get their Health and Social Care Bill passed. Public feeling against the regulations exploded. 38 Degrees launched a petition against them which now has over 360,000 signatures. This pressure, combined with strong criticism from the medical profession, Labour and even Liberal Democrats, forced the Department of Health to rewrite the regulations.

Unfortunately the revised regulations are little improved. The word "integration" was inserted a few times to address peoples’ fears that competition would increase fragmentation of services. However Regulation 5 dictates that a contract must be advertised for competition unless commissioners are satisfied that there is only one provider capable of providing the service. This is a narrow legal test vulnerable to challenge. Private companies could contest that they are "capable" of providing a service and entitled to bid for that business. Knowing this, commissioners are likely to cautiously avoid the potential for legal challenge by opening services to competition.

The regulations still break the promises given when the government were fighting to push the Health and Social Care Bill through parliament. Andrew Lansley promised prospective Clinical Commissioning Groups that they would decide "when and how competition should be used". Earl Howe promised that commissioners would have a "full range of options" and would not be under any legal obligation to "create new markets, particularly where competition would not be effective in driving high standards and value for patients".

The truth is that it will not be up to commissioners to decide if, when and how to use competition. Far from these reforms freeing GPs to do what’s best for patients, these Regulations bind them to an expensive bureaucratic market system of evaluating commercial tenders as advised by competition lawyers. David Lock QC, commissioned by 38 Degrees to provide a legal opinion on both sets of regulations, said that anyone who insists that they allow commissioners discretion to decide when and how to use competition is parroting "disingenuous nonsense".

"Disingenuous" is an apt word for the politicians here. Liberal Democrat Lord Clement-Jones (who originally opposed the regulations and now supports the new ones) told me that the regulations simply apply EU procurement law and that commissioners are being given the maximum discretion possible within that framework. My contention is that the framework is a straitjacket and, as the politicians always intended EU procurement law to apply, it was thus utterly wrong to pretend that commissioners would have more freedom than this law allows. It makes those promises cynical, misleading and deceptive from the outset, as the necessary caveats would have rendered them meaningless.

The rationale for the reforms is a belief that market competition will drive up standards of care. But as others have pointed out, this faith in the market, like all faiths, lacks evidence. Commercial interests introduce perverse incentives that detract from the focus on duty of care and trust between doctor and patient. This isn’t evidence-based policy-making. This is an ideologically driven experiment being legally enforced before being tried and tested.

If we discover, as many fearfully predict, that these regulations serve to erode and undermine current NHS providers, leading to increasing privatization, rising costs and a reduction in quality of care, then how will we change course? Attempting to undo these reforms is likely to be extremely expensive and politically difficult, giving rise to claims from companies who could sue for compensation. There is a puzzling prioritisation of process here, rather than outcomes. The only guaranteed beneficiaries of this approach are those who will profit from winning new business.

Politicians may say that their hands are tied by EU laws, but make no mistake, this is a choice. Scotland and Wales have made different choices and are organizing their services differently, keeping the market out. There is something profoundly undemocratic about the English case. The NHS reforms were not outlined in the 2010 election, they didn’t appear in any party manifesto and they didn’t even feature in the Coalition agreement. Nobody voted for these changes. The Health and Social Care Act was extremely controversial, pushed through after many political promises were made and these Regulations prove that those promises were highly misleading.

Despairingly for our democracy, all three main parties have played their role in getting us to this point. The last New Labour government laid the path for the current regulations with their Principles and Rules of Cooperation and Competition, though the coalition now go further by turning suggestions into requirements. For all the talk of patient choice, people have been denied the choice that really matters - the choice of a citizen to collectively determine the provision of their national health service. Politicians have pushed through monumental reforms covertly, not by winning the argument openly, honestly and democratically. Peers will have the chance to vote in the Lords chamber tomorrow and the public are telling them how they feel. Will the politicians rise above party political point-scoring and have the big honest debate that all who rely on the NHS deserve?

NHS activists outside Parliament. Photo: Getty Images.

Nicola Cutcher is a freelance journalist and researcher.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

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 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war