This talk was given at the Community of Communities Annual Forum, at the Royal College of Psychiatrists on 17 May 2016
When I
agreed to do this talk my original title was ‘TCs for the future - ‘adapt or
die’. But because that was a bit controversial, I changed it to what’s on your
programme ‘TCs for the future …and what
we need to do about it’. But I’m afraid to tell you that, although the title on
your programme is quite right, I still think that I’m really going to do the
original one.
So when I realised that was what I was signed up to - I had a sinking feeling of ‘oh no, how do I try to explain this’ without falling out with everybody. When I looked back at what I had written, at the weekend, I reckoned I’m going to insult and upset all the people who believe in ‘modernisation’ in the first half, and then upset all the people who believe in TCs in the second half.
So when I realised that was what I was signed up to - I had a sinking feeling of ‘oh no, how do I try to explain this’ without falling out with everybody. When I looked back at what I had written, at the weekend, I reckoned I’m going to insult and upset all the people who believe in ‘modernisation’ in the first half, and then upset all the people who believe in TCs in the second half.
So maybe I
just need to disappear before lunch – but I do hope not!
On one
side, when I talk about TCs needing to change I always get some people telling
me that I’ve ‘sold out’, we’re throwing away this precious thing that can’t be
messed-around with. In the large group at last year’s Windsor conference I
remember we had some rousing discussions about what we called ‘the fire in the
belly’ – and that is what it needs to be, I think – and we mustn’t let it be
put out by the hard things we’ve got to do to survive, at least at the moment.
Then, on
the other side, I’ve got powerful and influential people telling me that those
of us who work in TCs are dinosaurs / vestiges of a bygone age / old hippies /
hopelessly romantic and out of touch / an evidence-free zone. The last comment
was in the coffee room, a few years ago, from Tim Kendal, in the old offices of
Community of Communities when we were over in Mansell Street. And Tim is now the
National Director of Mental Health. A bit worrying, maybe. Though, as I say later, I do think this is
changing.
So we’ve got the might and majesty of NHS England thinking that we’re not serious about evidence on one side, and the therapeutic community radicals and hard-liners saying that we have lost the plot and will all go to hell in a handcart, if we start talking to ‘the enemy’ about things like needing to change the way we work.
The trouble
is, I quite like that impossible position – because I believe both points of
view. I think that TCs DO need to do something different from what we’ve
always been doing (maybe as well as
what we’ve always been doing) - and that we’re not very good at that, because
we are so committed to preserving the impressive and powerful things we already
do.
So I’m
saying that that we need to be more willing change AND keep some of the things
we do the same. And what we need to keep the same are about some things that
are very important to us: like relationships…
continuity… emotional safety… not being disempowered or made to be part of a
mechanical or industrial-type process… allowed to act authentically …and, dare
I say, – about having fun.
Where I’m
hoping to get to in this talk is the idea that we need to leapfrog over
‘modernisation’– and get to something better. Something that is much more real
and authentic, and human. Most of the so-called reforms we have all been
through are sterile, minimalist, and cut-to-the bone things – and we have got
so used to them – and we have forgotten that things can be different. This is
especially so in the public services, where everything has changed in the last
few years.
And it’s
not just for us in the NHS, or the prison service, or social service – it is
what some people call ‘The New Public Management’, and it has a business and
management ethos that has completely changed the nature and experience of being
in the public service.
For
example, people used to be proud to work in the NHS, but now they are more
likely to feel anxious and afraid of ‘doing something wrong’. When I did a
national listening exercise for the Institute of Group Analysis with Clare
Gerada (from the RCGP) last year, we found that the predominant word people
used about their experience of working
in the NHS was ‘fear’, and the predominant word for what they needed – but did
not get - was ‘support’. That is a sad state of affairs. And I would say that
it is because of the crass way that ‘modernisation’ is usually done in the NHS
– and probably in lots of other ‘economically stressed’ public services as well.
So I am
proposing that we in TCs have a different answer – that we don’t need to try
more and more of the same sort of ‘modernisation’ treatment. Instead of that,
we can ‘out-modernise’ (or perhaps post-modernise) even the most ‘progressive’
of our colleagues.
That means
to change even more than we had ever envisaged, or thought possible. And
because we, in the world of TCs, have
been doing loads of the right things for years – like democracy and service
user involvement – we could be really good at it. I think that can be even
more fun than being part of traditional TCs, and trying to maintain what we have
always done, especially in such hard times
Let me take
a short digression – about the language we use. This isn’t really about two
sides, one of which says ‘change
everything or die’ and the other says ‘no
way’. It’s not about a battle between two opposing views, and it’s not even
really an argument. What we need to do is to step back and look at what we are really trying to do.
If we just
argue between each other, it’s going to take us nowhere. We need to take a step
back and look at the whole framework[RH1] of what
we’re doing, I would say that the way we look at it at the moment is too
restrictive / too focussed / too much concentrated on what we call ‘mental elf’
/ and too directive. We’re working to a business school–type agenda of ‘what are we going to do about it’ – rather
than a therapeutic stance of ‘what on
earth is going on here?’
In the world
of ‘modernisation’ it’s all about what we DO to each other, and how that is all
written down in policy and then made to happen by the dreaded managers. What I am
saying is what really matters is not that, but how we ARE with each other. I
hope you get the drift. Or at least that you do by the end.
So I’m
going to start by looking at the idea of ‘modernising’ – then look at what we
hold most dearly, and then think about how we DO BOTH – and what that looks
like from here, in the Community of Communities project. It means holding on to
the valuable bits ….. AND doing what we need to survive. And I think what we
are trying to survive is this thing that some people call ‘New Public
Management’ – which I fear is another road to hell paved with good intentions.
So first,
this idea of ‘Modernising’. Some call it ‘reforming’, ‘service remodelling’ and
various other words and phrases – transformational change’ is a fairly recent version,
and I’m sure that there are lots of new management buzzwords for it. It also
comes out in a rather antagonistic and way when people say to me that you have
to ‘get real!’
It seems to
come from a business and economic way of thinking that things have got to get
more and more efficient, and focussed, and ‘lean and mean’. I’m not arguing against thoughtful
development and all that goes with it – including change and all the loss and
trauma that sometimes needs to go with it. But I am arguing against extreme, and continuous, and mindless change
imposed from above (ultimately by a mindless government) that leaves the
experts (and I mean both service users and professional staff) feeling
disempowered. And disempowered because it is only the accountants who make all
the real decisions.
I could
give so many examples of the way we are all slaves to the machine nowadays –
from the digital tyranny of IT to the seventeen levels of permission we need to
get to change a light bulb and the irrelevant training courses we are told to
go on (I think a better word for most of that would be ‘conditioning’ – like
they do with rats – rather than real ‘training’).
Of course
this is what happens when we live in a world absolutely intolerant of
uncertainty, and governed by thinking only about risk: we all hunker down, act
defensively, and do what we can to cover our backs. Not much room for
creativity or playfulness, or joy here – perhaps there’s a rather chilling
parallel to national and international current affairs.
But in the
clinical world, if we reframe risk as something that is best managed and
contained by RELATIONSHIPS, rather than by policies and procedures, and locked
doors, and a starting place that ‘you can’t trust anybody’ …then things can
look different.
That’s
often rather difficult to do, and can only happen if we’ve got any time and
energy left after we have met the statutory demands that are all around us
nowadays. Which usually means filling in something on a computer, so that we
‘are compliant’ with an increasingly vast and complex array of ‘compliance
matrices’. As I keep saying, we are slowly but surely getting sucked into the
machine.
But we must
also be willing to question those demands – when we are told ‘you MUST do
this’, we need to think, like we teach members of our TCs to think, ‘why?’ –
and then discuss it and understand it. Most things, when discussed, become
understandable and when we know why we’re doing something that seems
mindless, then we might be willing to do it. Or we might want to ask some more
questions. But at least we will be talking to somebody about it, and not just a
machine. But unfortunately, I fear that
is a bit of an old-fashioned view – and just isn’t the way the world works
nowadays. Conversations with human beings are just too expensive!
An example
is the notes on hospital computer systems, which really bug me. There’s often
reams and reams of them and they are either so anodyne they’re meaningless, or
laden with unconscious bias that they are like toxic waste in somebody’s
clinical record, there for evermore. So much for reducing stigma in mental
health.
The thing
that most of these modernisation processes impose on us is dehumanisation. When
clinicians have to go to work and think that they just have to get through the
day, and escape without having done anything they they can later be blamed for,
we have lost the whole purpose and meaning of being a caring profession. When
the only thing we ‘must do’ is to record everything we do, rather than think
about what we do, we have lost the plot. We are working for the benefit of the
organisation and its own anxieties, rather than for our patients and their
needs. We have lost the central importance of relationships.
One of our
TC members in Slough describes it very graphically as ‘losing your identity as
a human being and becoming just a number’ when you enter the system. The system
and the modernisation machinery that goes with it just doesn’t DO
relationships. It has ever-more complicated ways to increase efficiency and
‘meet the challenges of the financial pressure’ (as the euphemism has it) – but
it can’t cope with messy things like the importance of staff-patient
relationships, let alone team relationships, and never mind organisational
relationships and culture.
‘The
experience of the patient’ is meant to be important nowadays – but it is in a
rather disconnected and trivial way, where people are meant to score with happy
faces on a computer feedback machine when they are on their way out of the
building. We have all become consumers or providers nowadays, and the therapeutic
relationship is like a commercial transaction; smiley face, neutral face or sad
face. Really, what have we come to?? How disrespectful to everybody is that??
Just to
think a little bit more about relationships – whether personal, professional,
family, romantic or whatever – I sometimes argue that relationships are like
waves, and individuals are like particles – it is much easier to think that all
matter is just blobs of stuff, like individuals – but modern physics tells us
that your theory has to have a wave function as well as these discrete lumps of
stuff. And I think that’s a lovely parallel to the group analytic view that it
is more the relationships between us that define us, than it is our
characteristics as individuals. I think
we all know that realtionships don’t obey the rules of rational processes.
Now Zigmund
Bauman (who is like the high priest of post-modern optimism) says: we must
value, and cherish, and use, irrational
processes – they are one of the things that make us human. And all I’m saying
is that we need to accept that relationships are often irrational, and
uncertain, and sometimes a bit chaotic – and hold onto or contain the anxiety
of that. What all this management and modernism does is try to ‘do something
about it’ – make it into a procedure, like increasing somebody’s observations
on the ward, or write a new measuring scale, or make a new regulation – rather
than reflect and try to understand what’s going on, and why.
I hope most
of you think we’re quite good at these things in TCs. And I hope that you think
it’s important that we don’t lose them in whatever bit of the system we happen
to work. But I want to say something more fundamentally challenging – keeping
on the relationships theme. What we are talking about here is prioritising
relationships above the written, rational and measurable aspects of life
which it says in our job descriptions and we spend most of our working time
doing.
This is a
rather radical idea – but I hope you’re still with me, because I think it’s at
the heart of what we do best in therapeutic communities. It is the way we are with each other – rather than
what we do to each other. Issues of
power and coercion and inequality fade into the background when we’re in an
authentic encounter with each other – whether that’s a community meeting, or a
supervision session, or a strategy planning meeting, or a high-level committee.
But trying
to describe this ‘way we are with each other’ is always going to be an
approximation – and we will never get a logical or scientific definition of what
this ‘quality of relationships’ is. Lots of theories have helped us see it.
Those of us who work in TCs usually have psychotherapy or clinical
backgrounds. For myself, training in
group analysis helped me get close to what it is all about; for many
psychotherapists it comes with the core ideas of object relations theory in
psychoanalysis; for others more systemic views like the family therapy approach
make most sense; and there are many relevant theories in other fields I am
sure. But these are all trying to convey it in a language where the words to
describe it don’t exist. Poets and artists maybe do it better than scientists.
I don’t know if the neurobiology is solid enough yet, but it is like the right
brain does relationships and the left brain does the rational and logical
communication about it – but it’s always communication about it (like after it has been badly translated) and never the real thing or real experience.
Despite
this fundamental impossibility, many people have tried to do something about
‘the quality of relationships’ in mental elf, across the centuries. I’ll just
spend a minute on three of them – to hold them up as examples of what I think
we are trying to do.
Three people and their influence
The
earliest, and simplest, is William Tuke – the Quaker who set up the Retreat in
York in the 1790s. It was just by seeing people with mental problems as human
beings with human needs, rather than as a race apart: I think Descartes said
that people who were mentally afflicted were in the same category as animals,
in how we relate to them. I heard a programme on Radio 4 just yesterday about
how, in Bethlem or Bedlam – the routine practice before this was to chain these
people up and beat them when they behaved in a difficult way.
But the
Quakers didn’t agree with all this, and they started relating to these people as
fellow human-beings - with an entirely different
quality of relationship to what had happened before. It started a worldwide
movement that became known as ‘moral treatment’. A good phrase, I think -
although my friend Aldo Lombardo here tells me that the history is more
controversial than that.
The next is
a hero of mine from undergraduate days – Ronnie Laing. In The Divided Self, he vividly illustrates how dehumanising medical
psychiatry was in the 1950s – and how much of madness can actually be
understood, if you have a different sort
of relationship with the person who is seen as mad. He advocated being with
and tolerating the madness until you could start to understand it – with all
the chaos and mess that goes with it, at places like Villa 21 and Kingsley
Hall.Having
others able to tolerate one’s madness was a new experience (and a new sort of
relationship) for people who had been so ‘objectified’ by biomedical psychiatry
– and I think things like the ‘Hearing Voices’ network, and the better bits of
the recovery movement, or ‘bandwagon’ as I fear it has become, are doing just
this.
And the
Finnish people developing the Open Dialogue Approach, which comes from the same
‘critical psychiatry’ stable, are on the case too. I’m not sure how well Open
Dialogue will survive being translated into a British context, but the British
branch are now running a big multicentre clinical trial on it.
And -
here’s where we come in – in TCs we also relate to people in a way that
tolerates difficult relationships, and – through the wide range of different
things we get up to together – come to understand each other. Or at least be
able to live a more harmonious life amidst all the struggles and conflicts.
The last of my three examples is Franco Basaglia – and I’ve just read a biography of him and what he did in Italy, where he was medical superintendant of Gorizia asylum in the 1960s. It was a huge old-fashioned psychiatric hospital at the north eastern corner of Italy, near Trieste, on the Adriatic Sea and right next to Croatia. He was horrified at what he found there – the inhuman way people were treated.
Clear
echoes of Tuke at the Retreat nearly 200 years earlier. What had we learned
about moral treatment since then? …we might well wonder. Anyway, with a few
years of trying to do something about it, by public awareness-raising and political
lobbying he eventually had the Italian Law changed in 1978: Law 180 or
Basaglia’s Law – to close all the institutions.
I know that
some say his motives were not entirely altruistic, and I’m not trying to say it
was an complete success – but it was a real and serious attempt to use the
law to change the quality of
relationships in the brutal and inhuman parts of the Italian psychiatric
system. I’m sure we could have all sorts of arguments and ideas for how it
could have been done better, but the point is that the problem was recognised
at a level that it never had been before.
And what I
want to say is that I think we are at a similar point again, here in the UK –
and quite probably elsewhere in the Western world. Okay, we have closed down
the toxic institutions that formed the framework for those horribly
institutionalising relationships. But, with what we blandly call ‘community
care’, we have recreated coercive, disempowering, and downright paternalistic
and infantilising relationships. And it has got worse and worse through our
more and more desperate attempts to get efficient, save money, avoid conflict, and
manage risk.
The old
Victorian asylums were founded as a socially progressive and compassionate way
to deal with madness – many of them ended up a hundred years later as a public
disgrace. But they have suffered from ‘the
law of unintended consequences’, if you like – though I prefer to think if
it as ‘the road to hell paved with good
intentions’.
But it didn’t
go wrong because of the bricks and walls and of the institutions, or because of
some malevolent government policy. It was because of the nature of
relationships they allowed to develop.
There were
strict hierarchies, more and more rigid policies were written to cope with
problems that came up, and there was nobody with enough power to question what
was going wrong. And we are doing
exactly the same thing again.
When our TC
member in Slough says that he was stripped of his humanity and treated like a
number when he was admitted to the local mental health services, I don’t think
he is alone in that. He is saying that the modern system dehumanises people
too. Not as violently or as obviously or as physically as in the old asylum
days – but in a more subtle way: ‘This is
what is best for you. We are the experts. We have the evidence. Do as you are
told. Or you will have to.’
It could be
called institutional paternalism, or
perhaps biomedical hegemony. Let me
explain both of those phrases. ‘Institutional paternalism’ is about the
whole system having rules that are imposed by the organisation, ostensibly for
everybody’s good – but they actually morph into a rather rigid power structure
where things can’t be challenged or questioned. Perhaps they can by rigid and
inflexible procedures like for complaints or grievances – but they are
administrative processes that deliberately make everything entirely sterile and
procedural, and do not seek to find meaning or understanding – just blame and
retribution.
‘Biomedical hegemony’ is more to
do with the dominant paradigm or discourse which is acceptable to the field in
question – ‘hegemony’ is a tricky word and I think ‘biological fundamentalism’
or ‘biological dogmatism’ would mean much the same. Which is that mental health
is dominated by a view that there is a brain fault that can most efficiently be
rectified by physical means – at the moment, that is mostly drugs – but it has
been all sorts of things in the past, and may well be so again in the future.
Very few
psychiatrists would say that is the only factor that matters, but I think most
now have to work in this way –
whether they like it or not. They have little time or scope or support to
consider anything apart from diagnosis and prescription. And as the power in
the system is mostly lodged with the medical profession, it is unlikely to
change very easily.
Along with
this goes the huge dark shadow of the pharmaceutical industry, and all the
economic and free-market arguments that go with it, and the enormous power it
therefore has in the system. I won’t waste your time by ranting about it, as
many other do that better than I can.
But suffice to say that what I call the ‘biomedical hegemony’ is very
well supported by the pharmaceutical industry.
But,
whether it’s the administrative or psychiatric, or world economic, system that
is doing it, the effect is to take responsibility away from people and leave
them disempowered, and in the hands of the so-called ‘experts’.
By taking
this responsibility away from people it is is exactly the opposite of what we
try to do in TCs. In TCs, we try to empower people and give them responsibility
for themselves, and for each other. And that feels profoundly against the tide,
in the world of ‘New Public Management’. But there is a problem with this, when
it comes down to the level of individual freedom.
And that is
that institutional paternalism, or biomedical hegemony, is getting less and
less acceptable in our socially networked times. It is an attitude that is becoming
more and more difficult to maintain in our information-rich, transparent,
freedom-of-information, accountable world. People expect openness, and to be
able to make real choices for themselves - and I think rightly so, and
completely in keeping with the democratic principles of TCs.
It ‘goes
wrong’ through the way relationships are conducted by ‘the system’– which is often
rather mechanically, led by the computer information systems, and almost
entirely in the service of risk assessment and management. The fact that the
core of ‘care’ is about how one human being helps another human being can be
almost entirely lost.
Nowadays we
have to have notices on the wall to remind staff to say say ‘Hello my name is …so
and so’. But what sort of culture have we set up, what sort of road to hell
paved with good intentions have we led ourselves into, where staff need to be told
to do things like that? Where we have to have notices on the wall to remind
staff that they are humans, and that their patients are humans too?
Enough
said. I think you can see what I’m saying is the problem – but what are we
doing about it? That’s what I’ll turn to now.
What CofC is doing
So first,
let’s identify what are the ‘modernisation’ things are that we do need to do,
for TC thinking and approaches to stay alive. I’m going to divide them up into these
‘need to do’s’:
1. Need to…
Know what we’re doing and doing it well (quality assurance, what they specialise in here at CCQI)
Know what we’re doing and doing it well (quality assurance, what they specialise in here at CCQI)
2. Need to…
Show it is worth doing, and that it works (Research, despite being called an ‘evidence-free zone’)
Show it is worth doing, and that it works (Research, despite being called an ‘evidence-free zone’)
3. Need to…
Spread[RH2] the ideas beyond TCs (the EE development, mostly) –and join up with others, without being too precious about what we’re doing, or what I think TCs have been doing for years.
Spread[RH2] the ideas beyond TCs (the EE development, mostly) –and join up with others, without being too precious about what we’re doing, or what I think TCs have been doing for years.
4. Need to…
Give up sacred cows (like ‘this is the only way a TC can be’)
Give up sacred cows (like ‘this is the only way a TC can be’)
Knowing what we’re doing and doing it well.
This is
where we started from with Community of Communities in 2002 – the method we
wanted to use was a harking back to the old days at the beginning of ATC in the
1970s. It was to visit each other’s TCs and pick up ideas and share what we
were doing ourselves, and generally feel less isolated about the way we were
working. As well as that, we incorporated the idea of standards – we were the
third network here to do so - so we could be fairly objective about that, with
the authority of the College behind us. But the standards were democratically
developed, using TC principles of everybody being involved in the discussion,
and agreeing and voting if necessary. This meant that we as TCs felt we owned
the standards, and that they were meaningful to us – and not that they were
some persecutory orders delivered from above, as quality standards so often can
be.
So it
became a recognised quality improvement process as well as a way for TCs not to
feel isolated or not knowing if ‘they were doing it right’ – and we could be
quite comfortable with language like ‘sharing best practice’ and ‘benchmarking’
and ‘action planning’. We had done the modern thing, called ‘quality
improvement’ - but in a TC way that we could live with.
I would
maintain that – just by being TCs and believing in the central importance of relationships
– we had also produced something that was more meaningful than a treatment
manual (in a relational way), and brought a bit of a Trojan horse – spreading a
message of gentle subversion and quiet revolution - into the dry and technical
world of the Royal College of Psychiatrists. I mustn’t say things like that too
loudly amongst my psychiatric colleagues, but I expect we’re all friends here
today!
Showing it is worth doing, and that it works
This is all
about research, and countering that opinion that we’re an evidence-free zone.
I’m not going to go into the whole RCT argument here – but just to summarise it
by saying that many people only consider that evidence is ‘good enough’ if it
‘Type 1 evidence’ in what is rather grandly called the ‘hierarchy of
evidence’. That means a meta-analysis of high quality RCTs. I have always been
deeply ambivalent about this one, because I think there are so many ethical
problems and methodological difficulties in doing an RCT on TCs – as well as
the bluntness and coarseness of the whole ‘yes or no’ results that they give;
but I am also aware that without it, influential people can go on saying things
like we are an ‘evidence-free zone’. So I have come round to thinking that we
need to treat it like an annoying game we must play in order to communicate
that TCs work, as a scientific fact, to the funders, commissioners, policy
makers and bodies like NICE on whom our existence depends.
I was on
the group that wrote the 2009 NICE guidelines for Borderline Personality
Disorder, and NICE is very hard-boiled about it all – no shades of grey
tolerated in what they call satisfactory evidence. In fact, because there
wasn’t much ‘high quality evidence’ for Borderline Personality Disorder, I
think we came up with quite a useful and sensible guideline. That’s because it
was based on a good consensus between the experts by experience, the clinicians
and the researchers on the panel – not very ‘high quality’ evidence in the
‘hierarchy of evidence’.
Turning to
TCs, personally, I have no doubt that people benefit from time in TCs – where
they are immersed in that ‘different quality of relationships’. But I wasn’t at
all confident that RCTs and standardised questionnaires will pick that up in a
way that is meaningful. And I’m still not – but maybe that’s because I’m
expecting more than the ‘evidence-based research’ methods can achieve.
So, a few
years ago, I was worried about what will happen when the NICE guideline gets
revised. So many other alphabetti spaghetti treatments have now put themselves
through the RCT machine since the 2009 guideline – and TCs were not amongst
them.
So
reluctantly, kicking and screaming if you like, I have come round to realise
that we need to play the game – the evidence-based treatment game – if we are
going to have any chance of surviving. And what a game it is. But I’m now less
worried about TCs being left out of the next NICE guideline – and I think I was
probably right to be worried before recent developments. So let me tell you
about the recent developments.
For the
last few years I have been watching from a safe distance as my colleague Steve
Pearce in Oxford, recently Chair of this Community of Communities here, has
been learning the rules of that evidence game - and running the first ever RCT
for democratic TCs. He has been learning some of the rules from somebody else
we know here, Mike Crawford, who as well
as being a new young professor of mental health research at Imperial College,
is also the Director of the CCQI here (within which we as Community of
Communities exist), and consultant psychiatrist to the first ever NHS enabling
Environment.
It has both
amused and alarmed me as to how complicated and rarified those rules get – not
just like the statistics you must use, and the boxes you must tick to be
considered for a ‘good journal’, but also who can be authors of a paper, and
how you have to structure the paragraphs and tables in an exact way. And the
weird and arcane ways that academics have to preen themselves and show how big
their ‘impact factor’ is – as well as how they suffer quite horrible and
career-threatening anxiety about the regular ‘research excellence framework’
audit.
I think
that sort of research world would drive me bananas – it reminds me how much we
also need the counterpoint of people like Nick Manning, the sociologist, who
asks difficult questions about what he calls ‘the Politics of Data’ – and where
the real power is, about how funding decisions are made. But, luckily for all
of us, Steve has learned the rules and played the game – and we’re expecting
his generally positive results to be published in the next few weeks.
But I don’t
want to let you all off the hook – we mustn’t think that we can now get away
with not needing to do any sort of data collection or research because Steve
and the Oxford TC have done it all. That is not true – for at least two
reasons.
The first
is that there will need to be more trials in the next few years to back up the
first one. And the second one applies to absolutely all TCs: unless you can
justify the existence of your TC to your local commissioners, managers and
referrers, in hard-line objective and numerical terms, you will be on thin ice.
This means collecting, analysing and communicating outcome data – at least as
service evaluation, if not formal research – like an annual report for your
commissioners.Alongside the annual report from CofC, of course!
However, I
was rather worried when I came to a meeting here a couple of weeks ago, to
learn about ‘POD’, or ‘patient owned database’. I was alarmed because it is a
free benefit of Community of Communities membership – which hardly any TCs have
signed up for.
Yet it is
so sophisticated, and user-friendly, and could save so much work of collecting
and scoring questionnaires – that I would have thought we would all be using
it. But, sadly, I think that says something about how reluctant TCs are to take
on new things – even ones that make our lives easier, that help ensure our
survival, and are completely congruent with TC philosophy. Hence the sting in
my title’s tail – adapt or die!
Spreading the ideas beyond TCs
I remember
when we started Community of Communities that John Cox, who was then President
of the College, said to me something like ‘That’s all very well, Rex, but it’s
for such a miniscule number of services. It’s too inward looking’. So that was
in the back of my mind, and several other people’s, as we went through the
first few years of CofC – with a good steady membership just under a hundred.
Then in
2007, we started to look in earnest at what have become our ‘core standards’ –
the special things that we as TCs all do, and not many other sorts of service
do. And they are still the central part of the annual Community of Communities
process, and the TC accreditation. We also developed, with the Association of
Therapeutic Communities what we called the ‘core values’ (just when it was
starting to change into TCTC when it merged with Charterhouse Group of
children’s TCs).
These were
the values that underlay the core standards – you didn’t have to be a TC to
have those values, but all TCs did have them – and many other places that
looked and felt and smelt like therapeutic environments did too. This was the
starting point for the Enabling Environments project, which is now an award
here – and a very successful one which has nearly two hundred units signed up
to it. It has been most spectacularly successful in the criminal justice world
– where the staff are finding a new purpose in their jobs, there is much less
violence on prison wings, we expect reoffending to be reduced, and morale of
prisoners as well as staff is demonstrably higher.
Because of
its success, we had Michael Spurr, head of the UK Prison Service (now called
NOMS) standing on this platform here at the Royal College at an Enabling
Environments conference in January, saying that all prisons should be Enabling
Environments. Then other people - myself and Simon Wessley the current
President of this college and and Sue Bailey who is leader of the Academy of
Medical Royal Colleges, saying that the NHS should be doing the same thing. Well, we’re
working on it. It might take a while.
The NHS is
a bit hard-headed when it comes to spending money on what some people see as ‘fluffy
new initiatives’. It wants things like RCTs and NICE approval first – but we’re
hoping to get something started using the evidence from the prisons and
probation side.
Going back
to what I was saying before, it’s a way of sneaking a subversive idea (about
how relationships can contain risk) under the radar – and I hope we can show
how it has changed the whole culture of prison wings as a result. And if we
can introduce a bit of relational thinking and compassion into the brutal and
hard-edged world of prisons, surely we can do something useful in the health
service?
Throwing away the sacred cows.
I must say
I was a bit hurt when John Cox told me that we were too inward looking – we
were doing our best to get TCs meeting each other and accept scrutiny by the
Community of Communities process, and it seemed like hard work to all of us.
But he was
right. If we had stopped there, and just accepted that TCs had to always be as
they always had been, because we as a group said ‘that’s the only way to do it’
– I think we would be extinct by now.
But partly
from within, and partly from external pressure, a lot has changed. We have lost
the ‘total immersion’ residential TCs from the NHS scene (like the Henderson,
which has closed, and Francis Dixon Lodge, which has become a 3-day per week
unit). But there are a few, including new types, growing up outside the NHS -
which often sell their places to the NHS when the local services have run out
of facilities to help. And I think that’s probably how it should be: a small
number of places for those who really do need 24/7 physical containment with a
democratic therapy programme, at least for a while.
This is
very different from the old expectation that anybody who might benefit could be
referred, and only the ‘most suitable’ would be accepted.
Slough 'Embrace' group at CofC |
In parallel
to that, non-residential NHS TCs have ‘reduced the dose’ – and gone from 5 days
per week to one, or even less. What we’re up to in Slough is an even more
extreme version of that progression – we only meet together for two and a half
hours per week, but we join it up with all sorts of other things people can do
to make a pick-and-mix therapeutic programme. We’ve an interesting tussle about
what to call it – I say it’s a ‘micro TC’ because it only meets for 2½ hours a
week, but Geoff our Head of Mental Health for Slough calls it a ‘macro TC’ –
it’s like it is a TC without walls, that involves bits and pieces across the
whole town. Come to our workshop this afternoon if you want to hear more.
I also
think that this ‘post-modern’ TC development has some of the ideas like Christ
Church Deal – the TC in Kent that says it doesn’t have buildings or even staff.
What really seems to mater is ‘the TC in the head’. That means experiencing the
sort of relationships around you that
make you feel safe enough to be able to do the work you need, even if they’re
not there the whole time - and the relationships aren’t always with the same
people. So I think one of the ways for the future is to better recognise ‘the
TC in the head’ and maybe to plan for ‘the TC in the whole town’, or at least
the whole of a locality’s mental health and social care services.
Something
else that has changed is in the children’s TCs. In days gone by, in the times
of Finchden Manor and Peper Harow, by they used to be large groups living
together in grand houses that had great facilities and intensive TC programmes
– with all the dyanamics that sort of group living brings. Now there are only a
few of those – and long may they survive because we still do need a few – but
most TCs for children that are members of CofC are now in domestic-scale houses
for a small group of children.
The same
therapeutic philosophy of as much democracy and shared responsibility as
possible, and the sort of relationships I keep bashing on about – but not TCs
as we always knew them. These are important politically, because the need for
more therapeutic care for children living in institutions is well recognised by
local authorities, and is probably going to be recognised formally in the
commissioning framework. There are often items in the news about serious
failures in the care of children whose parents can’t do it – and we are in a
very good position to come up with models of best practice.
But to say that
these places for children have to be ‘proper TCs’, with all the standards for
bigger TCs being met, is likely to mean shooting ourselves in the foot. So the
CofC team is working on a new subsection CofC called something like
‘Therapeutic Child Care’ – that will go through the same process of membership
of the network and self-review and peer review, and may eventually lead to
accreditation.
But they
won’t look like TCs as we knew them fifty years ago – or be explicitly called
‘Therapeutic Communities’. But that is something we will have to get used to.
TCs indeed, Jim, but not as we know them. And maybe called something quite
different.
Conclusion
I was
thinking of calling this talk ‘The TC is dead – long live the TC’ – but I think
that’s too harsh.
In the same
way as a small number of wrap-around fully immersive TCs are necessary for some
people, I think ‘traditional’ style TCs are still needed in some places. But looking
at how hard it is to survive at the moment, in the face of a risk-obsessed
world and continuous financial cuts, ‘being a real TC’ is a very hard job. It
is not one for the faint-hearted, or for those who aren’t willing to ‘play the
survival game’, as I have described. So good luck to those of you who are on
that path – and I hope that Community of Communities can help you with it.
But what it
means for many other services, less willing to play the high stakes game and
working in a way that is essentially ‘against the system’ - is that I think
that there will be a range of different things that all follow the underlying
therapeutic philosophy as TCs. Some of them might be quite close to TCs as we
know them now, but most of them will look rather different. And some of them
will look like nothing we have seen yet. I think that’s quite an exciting
prospect.
But they
will all need to have that ‘quality of relationship’ at their core. That
probably means being some variety of Enabling Environments, even if they don’t
do it exactly by the book, or aren’t signed up to the award here.
However, I’m
confident that good and acceptable services of the future will certainly all
have a different way for people to be
with each other than most of the mainstream mental health, or prison,
or children’s, or addictions services are at the moment.
I just
don’t think people will put up being treated so badly for much longer – a lot
of people know there’s ‘trouble at the mill’ – from the calls for ‘parity of
esteem’, to the service user movement, to secretly-filmed Panorama programmes.
I come back to the point that we have forgotten how to treat each other as
human beings when our world of mental health services becomes so industrialised,
and corporate, and institutionalised. We are not numbers, or robots, or badly
functioning machines – we are people who are all interdependent on each other.
We all need each other – and not just as economic units.
A lot of
people know this – but they don’t know that the centuries-old tradition of
therapeutic communities has some of the answers to these problems.
We need to
get out there and tell them!