As much as the seven-volume report that it launched, Sir Brian Langstaff’s remarkable speech yesterday at the Methodist Central Hall in Westminster was a milestone in the history of the modern British state. Its specific theme was the contaminated blood scandal in which 30,000 people were infected with HIV or hepatitis and 3,000 have died.
But its central contention — “this disaster was not an accident” — was a devastating indictment of an entire national system: political, administrative, medical, and ethical. Sir Brian’s mission was to describe “suffering which is very difficult to put into words”, to see that justice is done (as far as practicable, given that many of the victims and culprits are dead); and to ensure that his recommendations do not now gather dust on a shelf in Whitehall.
Indeed, the most striking feature of this seven-year inquiry is that it is remaining open. In the Commons yesterday, Rishi Sunak spoke of “a day of shame for the British state” that “should shake our nation to its core”. His likely successor in No 10, Keir Starmer, also apologised for “a pattern of behaviour that we must address”. But Sir Brian also made clear that he does not trust the political class to implement his proposals without invigilation. So he is not shutting up shop just yet.
The inventory of malpractice, cover-up, incompetence and wicked recklessness that he has collated — covering decades of inexcusable failure — is breathtaking in its extent and range. Especially shocking is the case of Treloar College in Hampshire, where haemophiliac children were used as guinea pigs and treated with factor VIII blood clotting products. Even now, one person dies, on average, every four days as a consequence of the misconduct recorded by the inquiry.
In their search for the truth, the victims and their loved ones were gaslit for generations
Though the report concerns a medical scandal, its true subject is power. In practice, the patients whose lives were ruined — or ended — by infected transfusions and clotting agents were entirely at the mercy of doctors, health care authorities, Whitehall officials and ministers.
In their search for the truth, they and their loved ones were gaslit for generations. Evidence was shredded. Political “lines to take” were maintained even when they conflicted with the facts. Not until 2017 did Theresa May grant them a public inquiry. Only today is the Government putting in place the compensation scheme that Sir Brian urged ministers to establish in April 2023.
This is a story that is becoming all too familiar. For years, the Hillsborough families encountered disdain, bureaucratic obstruction and political evasion. Only after ITV’s hit drama, Mr Bates vs the Post Office, was broadcast in January did Sunak announce snap legislation exonerating wrongly convicted sub-postmasters. The Grenfell inquiry’s report has been pushed back for a third time and will not now be published before the seventh anniversary of the tragedy on June 14.
Andy Burnham, the Mayor of Greater Manchester, was right last week to observe that a” fundamental rewiring of the political system” was required to correct this power imbalance. In the King’s Speech, the Government promised that the new office of Independent Public Advocate would be created to support and speak up for families in cases such as these. But it is far from clear that the necessary legislation will be passed before the election or that the new IPA will have the powers necessary to be more than a group therapist with an official crest.
Most important of all is the so-called “Hillsborough Law”, first proposed by Burnham in 2017 and now championed by Ian Byrne MP. If enacted, this would give victims access to legal representation, and, crucially, would impose a statutory “duty of candour” upon all involved in public service, a legal responsibility to tell the truth in any formal proceeding or inquiry or face potential prosecution.
Though versions of this duty apply partially in various sectors of the state and its agencies, a single, unambiguous legal obligation would be a significant step forward. It would go some way to levelling the playing field between those who seek the truth and those who have a vested interest in concealing it. It would undermine the culture of “paternalism” deplored by Sir Brian.
Above all, it would enshrine a cultural shift towards the true accountability that, as inquiry after inquiry has shown, is so conspicuously lacking in our public services. Apologies, financial redress and prosecutions are all necessary. But what the victims of this terrible scandal deserve most is a cast-iron reassurance that the long cycle of calamity, impunity and lies will now end.
