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Change
Somebody once advised me in my 20s that destiny is when luck meets preparation.
When I was younger, I used to think that you could prepare yourself out of any situation. But wisdom and events proved me wrong. I soon discovered that what you did yesterday though can affect today, and what can affect today can affect tomorrow. The only thing you can predict pretty comfortably, apart from death and taxes, is change. When I was younger, I used to think I could live forever. All this changed when I woke up newly physically disabled, after a six week coma on a life support machine on the Royal Free Hampstead. The National Health Service saved my life. Indeed, the on call Doctor who led the crash team the day of my admission, when I had a cardiac arrest and epileptic seizure was in fact a senior house officer with me at a different NHS trust in London.
This feeling of solidarity has never left me. I do also happen to believe that anything can happen to anybody at any time. I studied change academically in my MBA in the usual context of change management and change leadership. It’s how I came to know of Helen Bevan’s work. I’ve thought a lot about that and the highly influential Sirkin paper. But I don’t think I honestly ‘got‘ change until this year. In 2007, I was forced to change, giving up alcohol for life. I realised that if I were to have another drink ever I would never press the off switch; I would either end up in a police cell or A&E, and die. This is no time for hyperbole. It was this forced change, knowing that I had an intolerance of alcohol as serious as a serious anaphylactic shock on eating peanuts, that heralded my life in recovery. I later came to describe this to both the legal regulator and the medical regulator as the powerful driver of my abstinence and recovery, rather than a ‘fear based recovery‘ from either professional regulator.
But I feel in retrospect my interpretation of this change, as due totally to an externality, is incorrect. As I used to attend my weekly ‘after care’ sessions with other people newly in abstinence from alcohol or other toxins, or from gambling, or sex, I discovered that the only person who can overcome the addiction is THAT person; and yet it is impossible to read about this path of recovery from a book, i.e. you can’t do it on your own. So ‘command and control’ is not the answer after all. Becoming physically disabled, and a forced change of career and professional discipline, and a personal life which had become obsessed by alcohol, meant I had no other choice. I had to ‘unclutch’ myself gear-wise from the gear that I was in, and move into a different gear. But I did find my new life, living with mum, and just getting on with my academic and practitioner legal and business management training intensely rewarding.
In 2014, I attended a day in a hotel close to where I live, in Swiss Cottage. One of the speakers was Prof Terence Stephenson. After his speech, I went up to thank him. I found his talk very moving. He was later to become the Chair of the General Medical Council (GMC). I was later to become regulated once again by the GMC. Two lines of his has kept going through my mind repeatedly since then. The subject of the day was how sick doctors might get salvation despite the necessary professional regulation process. Stephenson claimed: “If you’re not happy about things, I strongly urge you to be part of the change. You being part of the change will be much more effective than hectoring on the sidelines.” This was not meant as any threat. And as I came to think more and more about this I came to think of how much distress my behaviour had caused from my illness, how I wish I had got help sooner, and how looking for someone to something to blame was no longer a useful use of my energies. I am now physically disabled. I get on with pursuing a passion of mine, which is promoting living better with dementia. But if there are any people who are worthy of retribution I later decided then their karma might see them implode with time. Not my problem anyway.
I now try to encourage others where possible if they feel that they have hit rock bottom; I strongly believe that it’s never too late for an addict to break out of the nasty cycle. If you think life is bad, it unbelievably could be much worse. I think businesses like persons get comfortable with their own existence and their own culture, but need to adapt if their environment needs it. I think no-one would wish to encourage actively social care on its knees such that NHS patients cannot be discharged to care, if necessary, in a timely fashion. I don’t think anyone designing the health and care systems would like them to be so far apart deliberately, with such bad communication between patients, persons and professionals. Above all, I feel any change has to be authentic, and driven by people who really desperately want that change. I think change is like producing a work of cuisine; you can follow the recipe religiously in the right order, but you can recognise whether the end result has had any passion put behind it. For me, I don’t need to ‘work hard’ at my recovery, any more. I haven’t hit the ‘pink cloud‘ of nirvana, but I am not complacent either. Change was about getting from A to B such that I didn’t miss A, I was in a better place, and I didn’t notice the journey. If I had super-analysed the change which was required to see my recovery hit the seven year mark this year, I doubt I would have achieved it.
Organisational dementia in the NHS?
The definition of ‘dementia’ in neurology has experienced a number of different iterations in recent years. This has been a direct result of physicians developing a growing awareness that Alzheimer’s Disease, although the most common form of dementia in the senile age group, is not the only form of dementia. In fact, there are about 200 different types of dementia at least. This means that dementia is not always typified by loss of memory, the so-called amnestic syndrome. However, in Alzheimer’s Disease, the most pervasive cognitive deficit is inability to learn new memories, whilst memory for previous events or people can be relatively well preserved consistent with that outstanding French physician from the Paris School, Ribot, in his famous 1881 treatise on memory. Frontal lobe dementia has been speculated to be the most common form of dementia in the pre-senile age-group, characterised instead by a profound change in behaviour and personality, rather a cognitive deficit of a strong amnestic flavour. The NHS is undergoing now, against the will of the medical Royal Colleges and the British Medical Association, a fundamental strategic change, and this tweet yesterday evening caught me eye. It seems to me that the term ‘organisational dementia‘ could be applied to this organisational change at a number of levels.
In organisational development, learning is a characteristic of an adaptive organization, i.e., an organisation that is able to sense changes in signals from its environment (both internal and external) and adapt accordingly. A central issue is how adaptable the culture of the NHS is in general – many would like to see the NHS to adopt a stronger innovation culture, and in fact the NHS Innovation and Change provides extremely useful guidance on how innovative change in the NHS can be implemented successfully. Helen Bevan from that unit points to Harold Sirkin and colleagues who have published a model in the Harvard Business Review. The reason Bevan likes this model is that it is based on evidence from more than 1,000 change initiatives globally. I view a failure to implement change in the NHS, for example as will be necessary following the implementation of the Health and Social Act, will be in part be due to a failure in organisational learning, what you could call an ‘organisational dementia’. Bevan, in her brief article, points to two critical factors where organisational change will be impossible to achieve, and this should very much be borne in mind as the Government, with the help of McKinseys, try to effect their change without stakeholder cooperation.
“There must be active, visible backing for the change from the most influential senior leaders. They say that if, as a senior leader, you feel you are talking up the change initiative at least three times as much as you need to, your organisation will feel you are backing the transformation. In addition, the change is unlikely to succeed if it is not enthusiastically supported by the people who will have to operate within the new structures and systems that it creates. Staff need to understand the reasons for the change and believe it is worthwhile. The final factor is effort. There is an NHS tendency to launch major improvement initiatives without taking account of the extra responsibilities for change projects on top of busy operational jobs. The authors assert that if anyone’s workload increases by more than ten per cent as a result of the initiative, it is likely to run into problems. Organisations need to calculate upfront how much extra time and effort will be required to execute the change and create the space for it to happen.”
A further interesting contribution to the ‘organisational learning’ research comes from Common (2004) who discusses the concept of organisational learning in a political environment to improve public policy-making. The author details the initial uncontroversial reception of organisational learning in the public sector and the development of the concept with the learning organisation. According to Common (2004), research in UK local government has centred around four powerful obstacles for organizational learning in the public sector: (1) overemphasis of the individual, (2) resistance to change and politics, (3) social learning is self-limiting, i.e. individualism, and (4) political “blame culture.” This could be responsible also for a type of organisational dementia in the NHS; resistance to change and ‘blame cultures’ are two particular potentially serious issues for the NHS.
So far, I have considered an ‘organisational dementia’ in the NHS where the dementia has an amnestic flavour. There could of course be relatively change in its capacity for learning or memory, but there could be a profound change in its behaviour and personality. As the NHS becomes increasingly privatised, where patient care is reconciled more-and-more with an obligation in law to maximise shareholder dividend, it may be that the personality of the NHS becomes unrecognisable in a few years’ time. This to me, and I suspect many others, would be very sad.
So, in conclusion, I have outlined how a label of ‘organisational dementia’ might be applied to the NHS using organisational learning defects as a basis of an argument, using Alzheimer’s disease as a corollary. I have also applied the term in the way akin to frontal dementia. Organisational learning is a very powerful notion in business management, and its critical application to the strategic change in the NHS has not gone unnoticed by me.