The way we treat each other says so much about our country: Daxa Patel

Why as a nation are we losing discernment on key issues such as the NHS, racism, and the erosion of respect? It beggars belief that we must raise this.

There are moments when the state of a country reveals itself not through statistics or political speeches, but through the way people treat one another. The NHS is one of those mirrors. It reflects our values, our frustrations, and our failures. Today, it is reflecting something deeply troubling.

A survey reported that NHS staff, according to Sky News, are experiencing unconscionable levels of racist abuse. Radiographers and sonographers have been called “dirty foreigners” and “monkeys”. Some patients have refused to be treated by non-white staff. Others have told clinicians that this country is not the same with all those people coming over here. These are not isolated incidents. They are part of a pattern that has become more visible and more brazen.

It is tempting to say that this behaviour is the product of political rhetoric, media narratives, or the pressures of a strained health service. All these factors play a part. But the truth is more uncomfortable. We are witnessing a loss of discernment. People are directing their anger at those who are least responsible for the system’s failings.

We have a choice, either we stand for or call it out for what it is. Somewhere along the way, as a country, we have forgotten that.

The NHS is under extraordinary pressure; politicians blamed the pandemic but that merely laid bare the fault lines. Staff say they are on the cusp of burnout. They are working in environments where waiting lists stretch into months and sometimes years. They are dealing with patients who have been let down by delays, cancellations, and a system that no longer feels reliable. It is no surprise that frustration spills over. But frustration does not justify abuse. It does not justify racism. It does not justify treating people as though their presence is an inconvenience.

As a former clinical negligence solicitor, I have seen the consequences of poor care. I have also seen the quiet heroism of staff who work under impossible conditions. I have heard of instances where patients whose first language was not English or who were non-kjwhite were treated with less patience or less respect. Bias does not always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it is subtle. Sometimes it is a raised eyebrow, a dismissive tone, or an assumption that a patient will not understand. These moments matter. They shape experiences. They shape outcomes.

The Leeds maternity scandal is a painful example of what happens when systems fail and when people are not heard. Families have spoken of traumatic births, ignored concerns, and a culture where warning signs were missed. Many of the victims are white women. This is important to acknowledge because it reveals a truth that should not be politicised. Poor care does not discriminate. It affects anyone who finds themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. It affects those who are vulnerable, frightened, and reliant on professionals, and let us not use finite or limited resources as an excuse for such appalling behaviour.

All mothers have every right to expect the same standard of care as anyone else. They have every right to be treated with dignity. They have every right to be seen as individuals rather than stereotypes. As for poor treatment of the NHS staff by patients, the NHS would not be able to function without non-white staff. This is a fact. It is also a reminder that the health service is a product of many shades, many cultures, and many histories. Like it or not, this is who we are now.

We can blame previous governments for failing to manage immigration effectively. We can criticise the lack of planning, the lack of investment, and the lack of accountability. But none of this justifies turning frustration into prejudice. None of this justifies treating staff as though they are responsible for political decisions made far above their pay grade.

The question we must ask is simple. Have we become a society where anyone who does not fit the indigenous profile is fair game for those with a grievance? If so, we must confront that reality honestly. We must recognise that racism in healthcare is morally wrong. It is dangerous. It undermines trust. It affects care. It creates environments where staff feel unsafe and where patients feel judged.

Birth and death are two of the most significant moments in a person’s life. They deserve excellence. They deserve compassion. It defies logic that in a modern and supposedly civilised country we have not yet secured as the norm, an excellent experience for mothers and fathers during childbirth. It defies logic that we have not secured a culture where respect is non-negotiable for our NHS staff. I am reminded of an inflight experience twenty years ago as I was travelling from Manchester to Gujarat. The kindly passenger next to me said either I am a shop keeper or a doctor. No malice then but it appears corrosive now.

The NHS is more than a service. It is a relationship between a nation and its people. That relationship is strained. It needs repair. It needs honesty. It needs leadership that understands that respect is not optional.

Daxa Manhar Patel is a Leadership Coach, author and solicitor