MoppAs we currently reside in a winter wonderland, the NHS is naturally on the brink of collapse. This annual event – one that usually dominates the headlines of news outlets less than sympathetic towards the Conservative Party every January without fail – is making its yearly appearance at the moment, counteracted by evidence from the other side of Fleet Street concerning how many millions our most beloved of institutions squanders on the likes of ‘diversity coordinators’ and so on, thus depriving frontline nurses of wage increases they’d otherwise not have to strike for. But the narrative that traditionally opens a New Year tends not to recognise this strand of the storyline; it’s far easier to pin the blame on ‘evil Tories’ because black & white heroes and villains translate the myriad intricacies of the morbidly obese and unmanageable behemoth of bureaucracy the NHS has become into a more digestible bite-sized tabloid snack. Of course, there are always a few dependable Blimp-like Tories who will gladly provide sufficient fodder for the Mirror and the BBC by coming out with a reliably stupid quote to uphold the narrative, though these tend to be detached backbenchers who are all with Bupa anyway.

Unless one’s health takes a dramatic turn for the worst, most of us are mercifully spared from placing our lives in A&E hands; if we find ourselves afflicted by a seasonal sniffle that simply won’t go away, the nearest GP’s surgery tends to be the sole port of call – or at least used to be. Anyone who’s attempted to secure a doctor’s appointment during the past three years will probably have found sweating it out or self-medication is a preferable option. Sob stories from GPs have become commonplace in recent times, though most patients find it difficult to express sympathy after being placed on hold for hours when forced to book an appointment over the phone from the crack of dawn onwards, with an ailment hardly eased by exposure to some tortuous Auto-tune earworm or an ad on a loop demanding the listener purchases an app that will no doubt deliver a diagnosis in a Stephen Hawking accent.

The last time I managed to gain an in-person audience with a GP around a year or so ago, I recall being the sole person in a waiting room about as active as a Nightingale Hospital until a guy walked in and approached the counter to make an appointment; he was informed he needed to do so over the phone and proceeded to produce his mobile and ring the receptionist in front of him; observing this farce, I felt as though I’d walked into a Python sketch. Despite the absence of patient competition, I still had to sit for the best part of fifteen minutes before a doctor deigned to appear; this was one of those multi-GP surgeries where one rarely sees the same doctor two visits running, so I did wonder what the multiple medical men and women employed there were busying themselves with whilst I twiddled my thumbs in the deserted waiting room. Playing a round of poker, perhaps?

Ever since every illness – both life-threatening and merely annoying – was deemed by the likes of SAGE to be secondary to Covid, the majority of hospitals, clinics and GP’s surgeries seem to have obediently followed the Government-recommended lead, albeit without readjusting their priorities now we’re through the worst of it. And what thanks do they receive for their obedience? They get Chris ‘Mekon’ Whitty predicting mass deaths courtesy of all those undiagnosed fatal illnesses that were placed on ice because the medical profession did as it was told. Indeed, how many vital members of NHS staff were faced with the threat of losing their jobs barely a couple of years ago because they were resistant to the vaccine and exercised their rights as citizens of a supposedly-free country to opt out? Remember the smear campaign aimed at discrediting this perfectly democratic decision, one spearheaded by Government propaganda and supported by numerous sections of the MSM? Yes, like any institution of such an unwieldy size, the NHS has its dutiful servants and it has its avaricious freeloaders; I suspect the latter would have remained in place, continuing to draw their sumptuous salaries as middle-management parasites, and wouldn’t have shed a tear over the loss of those further down the food-chain whose presence can actually make more of a difference to a patient than a course in diversity training. But in this infantile narrative, we were made very aware as to who the heroes were and who the villains were.

I think, for a lot of people, some of the more extreme attitudes that the pandemic exposed were quite an eye-opener; it certainly served to show a few true colours that had been previously clad in the colourless brand of sheep’s clothing bearing a ‘tolerance’ label, i.e. the whole #BeKind brigade who anyone with half-a-brain can now belatedly recognise as the charlatans they always were – the allegedly liberal who are actually acutely illiberal, just like the so-called anti-racists or anti-fascists are amongst some of the most bigoted, intolerant, narrow-minded and downright nasty haters out there. And, as undemocratic and draconian as some of the legislation rushed through Parliament by a Conservative Government was, don’t forget it was supported all the way along by Labour and the Lib Dems – and if it was criticised at all, the basis of the criticism was that it wasn’t severe enough in curbing civil liberties. After all, we saw for ourselves just how severe it could’ve been in England via those constituent countries of the UK with administrations supposedly of the Left.

In a way, though, the unpleasant side of human nature that either surfaced through genuine fear or simply exploited the fear of others in the most unseemly manner was a symptom of more than a mere freak occurrence like the pandemic. I recently viewed an archive interview with Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers, Marty Feldman and Dennis Norden – all of whom were sharing a dinner whilst discussing comedy writing; as the get-together was staged at Christmas, the festive subject cropped-up and Feldman made a potent point as to the way strangers react to one another for just a handful of days out of the 365 the year offers us. He noted that people have to be ‘artificially stimulated to behave like human beings’, going on to say that ‘We have to be aware that this is the day when we behave like civilised people’. Whenever some TV telethon in a ‘Children in Need’ vein raises a whopping amount, there’s always tangible surprise expressed at just how selflessly generous people can be towards the less fortunate, yet should it really be a surprise? Sadly, the fact that it is greeted as a surprise speaks volumes. To be wished a Merry Christmas or a Happy New Year on the street by a stranger for one week in December isn’t an uncommon event; to be bid good morning on the street by a stranger any other time of the year certainly is.

Every public demonstration of ‘community’ and ‘we’re all in this together’ during the pandemic, such as standing on a street corner to applaud the NHS, came across as staged-managed, like an organised ‘fun’ event for kids at Butlin’s; none of it appeared organic or spontaneous; one almost got the feeling it had been hatched by Dominic Cummings as a means of getting the people on side, a less negative approach than the divide & rule tactic of shaming those who opposed pandemic policies like lockdown or mandatory masks. The pitifully small resistance to so much of what was imposed upon us during this period – and how that resistance was demonised by those who played right into Government hands – is something it’s hard to forgive or forget. Whether or not the NHS is actually in a genuine crisis again or whether this is just another strand of propaganda designed to oust one political party in favour of another cut from the same rancid cloth is something we’ll probably find out in a year or two. Mind you, as Jonathan Meades shrewdly pointed out in his study on jargon, politicians of every colour have more in common with each other than they have with normal people; and the truth we believe is the truth we receive.

© The Editor




4 thoughts on “NAME THAT CRISIS

  1. The NHS is in a ‘crisis’ only of its own incompetent making. Over the past years, it has been granted substantially more funding from taxpayers, it has employed many thousands more doctors and nurses, yet it has carried out fewer procedures. That is a classic formula of rank inefficiency.

    To start with its name: it is not ‘National’, rather it is a disconnected set of separate and separated entities, each behaving as a fiefdom for the sole benefit of its many groups of operators, often concealed under self-flattering labels beginning ‘Royal College of’. It is not about ‘Health’, it is about sickness: its only alleged contribution towards health is to badger people into not smoking, despite the fact that most people who smoke do not suffer early life-limiting damage from it. It is not a ‘Service’: services have customers, the NHS calls them ‘patients’ because that’s what they’re expected to be, while the organisation itself concentrates on securing its next crisis lifeline of unmetered cash.

    The NHS now exists purely to sustain the NHS, nothing else, it is a self-generating body which has a Topsy-like facility to grow whilst delivering less and less to its sponsors. Unfortunately, and certainly not helped by the droves of dicks on doorsteps clapping, no politician has the balls to throw all the jigsaw pieces up in the air and start all over again. It’s sainted, it’s the national religion, it’s untouchable – the latter of which is my advice, don’t ever touch it unless you really have to, it’s a disaster zone to be avoided at all costs. If I could ‘unjoin’ I’d do it today, but they’d still take the tax-money anyway, so why should the abysmal NHS ever worry itself about its performance when it has a nation of captive paymasters?

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  2. Having been a prolific customer of the NHS from birth (congenital heart disease) and my daughter being even more prolific (leukaemia, then anorexia and diabetes related to the effects of chemotherapy) it’s something I find myself emotionally attached to and therefore loth to criticise, but in it’s current form it’s f**ked, to put it mildly. In a way, it’s a victim of its own success, in that with me you’ve got the issues of looking after a generation who are the first to hit middle age with these issues, and some GP’s (and especially 111) just hear my history and pack me off to A&E where there are usually more coppers than doctors and nurses. The biggest problem is politically, you’ve got one side who are ideologically opposed to it but know they can’t kill it off so leave it to flounder, and the other lot who effectively canonise it but are a bit more cagey when it comes to practicalities, and in the middle the poor old NHS just bumbles along.

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    1. It sometimes seems that some of the less honourable employees higher up the food chain of the NHS – not to mention politicians – exploit the emotional attachment many of us have to the institution and effectively ring-fence it from often-valid criticism. We rightly recognise it as one of the great innovations of a landmark government in our history, and that veneration has overidden scrutiny of its increasing faults and foibles for the best part of 40 years or more. I recall a similar tactic being utilised during the Iraq War, when hundreds would assemble to welcome back a body-bag in Wootton Bassett, thus neutralising any critique of the British Army’s presence in the Middle East.

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