A sense of catharsis seemed to envelop Britain when it was announced that Lucy Letby had been handed a life sentence for her crimes. The appalling 10-month litany of her homicidal activities was over. Evil had been exposed. Justice had been served. Perhaps, now, we could all move on.
To feel relief, though, is surely misguided. Nurse Letby might be behind bars, but those who ignored, shielded or enabled her remain unpunished. Regardless of their motives or excuses: the public record has shown that senior executives at the Countess of Chester Hospital obfuscated attempts to stop Letby.
This is not to say they aided and abetted her. But as any lawyer will tell you, ignorance is no defence in law. On the wards, as anywhere else, those who want the benefits, privileges and status that come with the highest level of leadership must shoulder responsibility for what happens on their watch.
Following Letbyās conviction, the Northern Care Alliance NHS Trust in Greater Manchester suspended Alison Kelly, former director of nursing and quality at the Countess of Chester. The hospitalās former CEO, Tony Chambers, also faces mounting claims that he had dismissed warnings about Letby before walking away with a Ā£1.5 million pension.
Under Kelly and Chamberās leadership, the neonatal unitās head consultant, Dr Stephen Brearey, who first raised concerns in June 2015 about the link between Letby and an increase in baby collapses, was ignored. Likewise, Dr Ravi Jayaram, a consultant paediatrician at the hospital, and others, were forced by hospital bosses to apologise to Letby after was āupsetā by their criticisms of her.
We don’t know what Kelly and Chambers were thinking as they watched a significant rise in the number of babies suffering serious and unexpected collapses in the hospitalās neonatal unit from 2015 and 2016 ā a rise that was well above the expected local average. We do know that they failed to act decisively. We also know that they both objectedĀ to concerns raised by Breary, Jayaram and other clinicians. These “whistleblowers” were told there was āno evidenceā against the nurse āother than a coincidenceā.
In my experience, such negligence can be partly the result of the professional differences ā and hostilities ā between those from a nursing or midwifery background and doctors and senior consultants. When doctors raise concerns about nurses, the nurses’ ranks tighten. When the roles are reversed, however, doctors are far less likely to put professional favouritism first.
And this conflict particularly afflicts maternity wards. As I warned in UnHerd last year, the Care Quality Commission found that two out of five maternity units in England were providing āsubstandard care to mothers and babiesā ā a disturbing review preceded by another damning inquiry, Dr Bill Kirkupās three-year investigation into mass failings at East Kent Hospital Trustās maternity care. Between 2009 and 2020, he concluded, 45 babies who died under the trustās aegis might have survived had they received ānationally recognised standards of careā.
Taken individually, these scandals and exposĆ©s are little more than horror stories, the sort of voyeuristic fodder rinsed out by newspapers before moving onto the next tragedy. Taken together, though, they are symptoms of a greater problem: our maternity serviceās dysfunctional relationship between management, staffing and patients across the board. And there is something unique about this dysfunction: while the Bristol heart scandal during the Nineties revealed how a combination of ineptitude, arrogance and an old boysā culture had contributed to dozens of babies suffering brain damage and death following cardiac operations by surgeons, today we are seeing cases, such as Letbyās, in which the āheroesā are senior consultants who come up against bloated, self-serving and intransigent management.
Over the past days, weeks, months and years, my colleagues and I have repeatedly called for senior managers in the NHS to be more accountable. The Letby case clearly illustrates ā along with the East Kent, Bristol, and Mid-Staffs scandals, the latter in which anywhere between 400 and 1,200 patients died as a result of poor care between 2005 and 2009 ā there is zero jeopardy for the legions of NHS senior managers when things go wrong, and lives are needlessly lost. As Dr Breary has pointed out, a āstructure akin to the General Medical Council or the Nursing and Midwifery Councilā solely for NHS managers is needed to āmonitor the integrity, competence, and conduct of senior NHS executivesā.
But I would go further. Within its health sectors, the NHS has too many managers floating between various levels of management. This murky bureaucracy has created a culture in which weaker and weaker talent fails upwards, driving out many consultants at board level who simply canāt cope with the cumbersome ineptitude of senior management committees. Once they have ascended to management positions, people who were mediocre on the wards vent their petty grievances and exert their lack of talent by putting consultants in their place. Itās an open secret that NHS management has become a gravy train, an opportunity to put your feet up and āprotect your workloadā. If anything, this cynicism, laziness and inertia is as deadly as the rare cases of pure evil.
No doubt there will be those with questionable āleadership skillsā who view my and colleaguesā calls for an audit of management capability ā and culpability ā as a witch hunt. But weāre willing to take that risk. Thereās clearly something rotten at the heart of the NHS.
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