Article
Care
Change
6 min read

Are we forgetting how to care?

The profound act at the heart of nursing.

Helen is a registered nurse and freelance writer, writing for audiences ranging from the general public to practitioners and scientists.

A nurse bends beside a bed and talks to a patient
Marie Curie.

Recently, at a nursing leadership programme in Oxford, attendees focused on the fundamentals of care.   Have we forgotten how to care? What can we re-learn from those who pioneered an ordinary yet profound act that affects millions? 

Anam Cara is an old Gaelic term for ‘soul friend’, a person with whom you can share your innermost self, your mind and your heart. It is a term that Tom Hill, former chief executive at Helen House Hospice in Oxford, used to describe the relationship between his staff and the thousands of children and their families who passed through their ‘big red door’ in its first twenty-five years. The hospice (or ‘loving respice’ as it became known) had been founded by Sister Frances Dominica in 1982.  

Other care in this country can also trace its religious roots. Between 1048 and 1070 in Jerusalem, the Order of St. John was founded for the purpose of helping pilgrims (“our Lords, The Sick”) who had become lost, weary, or beset by other difficulties while on their way to the Holy Land. Today, in the United Kingdom, the British Association of the Order has extended care to older people first in almshouses and later in care homes. A trustee for ten years was John Monckton, a man of ‘considerable talent, enormous integrity and deep religious conviction’; his tragic murder in 2004 led to the creation of the John Monckton Memorial Prize, which recognised and rightly celebrated commitment to care by care workers. 

Today, across the world, seen and unseen, nurses, carers and families continue to provide compassionate care. “Assisting individuals, sick or well, in the performance of those activities contributing to health or its recovery (or to peaceful death) that he would perform unaided if he had the necessary strength, will or knowledge” is the very essence of nursing, captured by ‘architect of nursing’, researcher and author Virginia Henderson in 1966. Meeting more than basic needs such as breathing, eating, drinking and eliminating bodily waste (which are of essential importance), Henderson recognised the role of the nurse in enabling humans to communicate with others, worship according to their faith, satisfy curiosity and sense accomplishment.  

In the desire for modernisation and professionalisation, have we lost sight of the core values and activities central to patient care?

An uncomfortable truth brought out in healthcare reports such as the Final Report of the Special Commission of Inquiry (The Garling Report) 2008, and the Report of the Mid Staffordshire NHS Foundation Trust Public Inquiry (The Francis Report) 2013 is though that this type of nursing is too often done badly or even missed, leading to pressure injury, medication errors, hospital-acquired  infection, falls, unplanned readmission, critical incidents and mortality. According to nurse scientist and scholar Professor Debra Jackson, “missed care occurs much more frequently than we might think”. She cites a systematic review in which ‘care left undone’ on the last shift ranged from 75 per cent in England, to 93 per cent in Germany, with an overall estimate of 88 per cent across 12 European countries’. 

In one offensively-titled paper, “Shitty nursing - the new normal?” (in which the authors apologise for the title but not the questions raised), real-life pen portraits are drawn of patients lying for hours on hospital trolleys, immobile through infection or injury, ignored by staff. Whilst acknowledging contextual factors for poor care, such as a shortage of nurses and resources, the authors argue that circumstances cannot be the sole cause of missed nursing care. 

A report published by the University of Adelaide, School of Nursing, has called for nurses to ‘reclaim and redefine’ the fundamentals of care. It asks whether the cause of the problem (of missed nursing care) lies “deep in the psyche of the nursing profession itself?” “Has something happened to the way modern nursing views and values caring?” it continues. “Indeed, is nursing in danger of losing its claim to care? In the desire for modernisation and professionalisation, have we lost sight of the core values and activities central to patient care? Or is this a broader social pattern where individuals are less inclined to show kindness, compassion, and care for others even if it is a necessary requirement of the job?” 

Compassion, he emphasises, is more than empathy - and way "less fluffy" but much more measurable than kindness. 

Writing in the British Medical Journal, Professor of critical care medicine Peter Brindley and Consultant in intensive care Matt Morgan wonder whether doctors also “too often default to high-tech and low-touch” when patients are dying – a time “when community and connection matter most”. They powerfully begin with a mother’s comment: “Humans are gardens to tend – not machines to fix.” 

Professor Sir Al Aynsley-Green, the first National Clinical Director for Children in Government and former Children’s Commissioner for England, and past president of the British Medical Association, suggests that we as a society need a “momentum for compassion”. Struck by the extremes of compassion witnessed during his wife’s treatment in the last years of her life, Sir Al wants to see a cultural transformation in healthcare: for compassion to be a key operating principle in NHS and care settings, led by the Chief Nurse’s Office; for every organisation to promote the importance of compassion at the professional level; for the views of patients and families to be sought regularly; for much earlier and better focus on compassion in undergraduate and postgraduate teaching programmes for all staff; for compassion to be inspected against by the Care Quality Commission; and for a willingness to encourage staff at all levels to expose poor practice as well as celebrating excellent care.  

Compassion, he emphasises, is more than empathy - and way "less fluffy" but much more measurable than kindness. “It’s putting yourself into somebody else’s shoes – and doing something about it.” Recently appointed the UK’s first Visiting Professor in Compassionate Care at Northampton University, at the age of 80, Sir Al certainly is doing something about it. He has made it his new purpose in life to “embed compassion into every aspect of care”.  

Like Sir Al, Queen Elizabeth II, the UK’s longest serving monarch, espoused compassion, in word and deed. Living a life of compassionate service, the Queen made clear that her Christian faith was her guiding principle. She speaks of Jesus Christ as ‘an inspiration,’ a ‘role model’ and ‘an anchor’. “Many will have been inspired by Jesus’ simple but powerful teaching,” she said in her Christmas Broadcast, 2000. “Love God and love thy neighbour as thyself – in other words, treat others as you would like them to treat you. His great emphasis was to give spirituality a practical purpose.”    

When nurses do unto others as they would have done unto themselves, and act as role model to colleagues, not only do patient experiences of care and their outcomes improve – but so does job satisfaction for nurses: a critical factor in nurse recruitment and retention – the biggest workforce challenge faced by healthcare organisations. Across the UK, there are currently more than 40,000 nursing vacancies, and thousands of burnt-out nurses are leaving the profession early. Whether nurses decide to stay or go is driven in part by their daily experience at work. The late Kate Granger, Consultant in medicine for older people, inspired Compassionate Care Awards in her name, envisioning that such a legacy would drive up standards in care - and surely also help retain nurses, through restoring a sense of pride, achievement and fulfilment to the nursing workforce.  

Article
Character
Comment
Film & TV
5 min read

Traitors reflects an age of deceit and disappointment

Behind the game play, we're yearning for authenticity and connection.

Alex Stewart is a lawyer, trustee and photographer.  

A montage shows a Scottish castle, the host of the V show the Traitors and a dark scary scene.
BBC.

‘What a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive.’ 

Some people, it seems, are not cut out to be liars. I felt for Freddie, one of the last contestants to survive on The Traitors, who found out the hard way. A fumbled recounting of a fabricated conversation with fellow Traitor Minah was enough to seal his fate, and soon he too was banished from the castle. The sad irony was that until his last-minute recruitment as a Traitor, Freddy had in fact been a Faithful for most of the show, insistently proclaiming his innocence and now cruelly denied his chance of vindication. But that’s all part of the game: shifting identities and alliances mean nothing is at it seems, and trusting is fraught with risk.  

Part of the success of The Traitors is that it has very successfully tapped into a pervasive national mood: the feeling that we are constantly being deceived, misled, spun or manipulated. This is hardly surprising. Trust in politicians and institutions is at an all-time low, eroded by scandals, misinformation and truth dodging. From the Post Office and the contaminated blood scandals to the manipulation of unpalatable facts to the non-apologies of the guilty, the British public has become increasingly sceptical of those in power.  

The 2024 British Social Attitudes survey, conducted by the National Centre for Social Research, revealed that public trust in the UK's system of government has reached a record low, while a similar survey by the OECD reported that only 27 per cent of people in the UK reported high or moderately high trust in government, well below the OECD average of 39 per cent.   

But it’s not just politicians and institutions that we distrust. The new world of deep fakes, misinformation, and AI-generated content seems also to have had a corrosive effect on our ability to trust one another.  A recent CREST Insights report indicates that only 41 per cent  of respondents now trust their neighbours, while the Edelman Trust Barometer tells us that this distrust has, for some, moved from resignation to outright hostility, with one in two young adults approving of hostile activism as driver of change - including attacking people online and intentionally spreading disinformation.  

With this backdrop, it is hardly surprising that the contestants of The Traitors are susceptible to high levels of paranoia, and see Machiavellian deceit and betrayal as their only way to survive and have any chance of winning.   

But the human cost of betrayal is high and psychologically taxing. The constant need to fabricate stories, remember lies, and manage the stress of potential exposure requires huge cognitive and emotional effort. The effects are tangible as the contestants suffer variously from anxiety, paranoia, and emotional exhaustion.   

Meanwhile the building paranoia is stoked by regular invocations of the dark supernatural as cloaked figures and effigies shift the atmosphere from wink murder to The Wicker Man, and Claudia presides over proceedings with the authority of a pagan high priestess. Even the game operates within a quasi-religious framework of sin, confession, and punishment. Players who lie and deceive will eventually face judgment, from their fellow contestants and the millions watching at home

What appeared to be crocodile tears turned out to be genuine tears of despair as the demands of the game took its toll on her conscience and integrity. “I hate it. I hate how I was.” 

Although everyone knows it’s just a game, the prolonged deception has real world repercussions that continue beyond the show's end.  Many of the contestants struggled to reintegrate into their daily lives, facing challenges in rebuilding trust with loved ones and grappling with their actions during the game. The vicar, Lisa, told of the discomfort of having to explain away her absence on the show as a ‘retreat’, while the winners, Jake and Leanne, both said how difficult it had been to adjust post-show, pointing to a lingering paranoia and the strain of having to keep their victory a secret. 

And yet, while betrayal and deceit define the show, it is often the genuine friendships and moments of trust that resonate most. Few will forget the ‘mother to mother’ pact made by Frankie and Leanne in the kitchen and the emotional final banquet when the suspicion and distrust were briefly lifted. Behind all the game playing, the yearning for authenticity and connection as an antidote to isolation could not be suppressed. 

There are also inspiring moments of hope, vulnerability and redemption. Alexander, the charming diplomat, tells his heartfelt story about his late brother, who had developmental disabilities, which prompted his fans to donate over £30,000 to Mencap. Jake, who suffers from cerebral palsy, overcomes great odds to become one of the winners, and Leanne and Charlotte open up about their struggles to conceive. Each contestant had a back story that humanised them. Even the aloof high priestess herself shed tears, albeit in unaired footage, over her contestants’ traumas.  

But it was Charlotte’s struggles that I found most inspiring. As the final Traitor, she seemed at first to relish her role with a very convincing series of lies, even turning on her fellow Traitor Minah. But it became apparent towards the end that, inside, she was in turmoil. What appeared to be crocodile tears turned out to be genuine tears of despair as the demands of the game took its toll on her conscience and integrity. “I hate it. I hate how I was,” she said later. “I felt so cruel. How I had to be to stay in the game – it was an immense pressure.”   

Catharsis, when it came, was through forgiveness, especially from Frankie, the contestant who perhaps more than any other had reason to be hurt by Charlotte’s betrayal; they had after all been best friends within the confines of the castle. Charlotte later admitted to badly needing her forgiveness, which gracious Frankie was only too happy to give.  

In an age of deceit and disappointment, Charlotte’s honesty, vulnerability and willingness face up to her actions and be reconciled with her victims, rather than justify them or offer a hollow non-apology, and Frankie’s willingness to forgive - offer us the hope that there can be a way out of the doom loop of deceit and broken trust.   

Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief