RRemember Hillsborough? Remember Grenfell? Remember the Post Office Horizon scandal? Of course you do. So you probably don’t have much trust in organizations and the government to tell the truth. Because at every opportunity you get a lot of hand-wringing from politicians. Buckets full of false piety. On the edge of the tear. And don’t forget sincerity. Always the sincerity.
“This. Should. Never. Be. Allowed. To. Happen. Again,” they say. Talking extra slowly and overemphasizing every word. Because this time they think the audience is watching them. Because this time they expect to be believed to become. “Read my lips. I am an honest real estate agent.” Only we all know that’s not the case. That every time they say this shouldn’t happen again, something else comes around the corner that they said should never happen again.
Strange, isn’t it? What are the chances? It almost seems as if the politicians are just spouting platitudes. The kind of banalities that come out in the death of a minor public figure that no one really knew. More an expression of helplessness than genuine intentions.
Something has to be done. But no one really bothered to do it. Drop it and leave it to someone else. It’s all a bit difficult. Embarrassing even. And what is missing is the feeling of shame. The recognition that the government or public institutions may be complicit in some way. May bear some responsibility. The political class lives to fight another day.
No doubt Theresa May’s government thought Brian Langstaff would be a safe pair of hands to lead the contaminated blood inquiry when he was appointed in February 2018. A man of the establishment through and through. One of us.
Someone you can trust to do a thorough job. But not too thoroughly. Investigate the causes, but be careful about apportioning blame. Especially for successive governments. Politicians always want to blame someone else. Never himself.
But Langstaff is very much his own man. There’s nothing like listening to patient and family testimonies for five years to stoke righteous anger. There’s nothing like being condescended to and dismissed by politicians who you knew were lying through their teeth to turn you into a caped crusader. Give him a beard and he can be Dumbledore for a new generation. The voice of ancient truths.
On Monday afternoon, Langstaff had one last chance to make a difference. His report had been published that morning. The victims had given their press conference during lunch. Now it was left to Brian to make a splash. To ensure his report survived the one-day news cycle. That everyone didn’t just say, “Oh, that’s terrible” in the afternoon and move on the next morning. Recommendations? What recommendations? Just push them aside and join the pile of all the other things that are way too hard to do right now.
A standing ovation followed as Langstaff took the stage at Methodist Central Hall to deliver his hours-long statement before an audience of victims and journalists. He was very much their man. They had been part of the investigation long enough, they had read enough of his two thousand page report, to know he was on their side. There was no whitewash. He was the real deal.
“You’re applauding the wrong man,” Langstaff said with a shy smile. You can’t have spent a career as a lawyer without knowing how to work a crowd. “This report comes from you and your stories. Look to the right. On your left. In front of you and behind you. These are the people who wrote this report. So please stand up and applaud yourself.”
They did. The ovation was even longer in the second round.
Then to the details. 30,000 people had been treated with infected blood, 3,000 had died. More were dying every day. Then there were the affected families and friends. Who had given up their careers and their lives to care for their loved ones. Dreams and ambitions lost.
There was the stigma. Many victims were shunned or abused by their neighbors. Some of the early treatments for HIV and hepatitis C had been more traumatic than the conditions themselves.
And most of it had been completely avoidable. The dangers of passing on infections through blood products have been known since the 1940s and 1950s. This had not been an accident. Hospitals had hidden their mistakes and misconduct. Like all governments since the 1980s.
Worse, they had even lied to the victims. Told them that they had been warned as soon as possible about the dangers of HIV and Hep C. That they had always had the best treatment available. That everything was the best in the best of all possible worlds.
There had been cover-ups. The current government had even tried to delay payment of compensation. Hey, these victims had waited long enough. It wouldn’t hurt if they waited a little longer. Let Labor find the £10 billion when they won the election. The Tories could then taunt them for failing to balance the books.
Langstaff ended by saying his work was not done. The publication of his report was only a waypoint on the journey. The real work now began. Ensure that the government implemented its recommendations. It was a bravura performance. His voice had been heard. Just like the voices of the victims. For the first time in decades, they were people again. They counted. We ended with another prolonged round of applause.
Much later in the afternoon, Rishi Sunak came to the House of Commons to make a statement. This was less convincing theater. The Prime Minister used his extra slow, extra serious voice. Empathy rose to three. That’s about as far as he goes. No one cared more about the infected blood victims than him. They had been abandoned by health workers and governments. He was really, really sorry.
Although it is not regrettable enough – as noted by Labor chief executive Diana Johnson, who has campaigned on the issue for years – to have done what Langstaff recommended in his interim report and introduced a compensation scheme. When he did that now, it seemed like he was ashamed of it. Amazing how you can find an extra £10 billion when it suits you. Almost as if the numbers in every budget are imaginary.
Sunak ended with the inevitable. “We must ensure that something like this never happens again.” Except it will happen. It is all too easy for politicians to apologize for the guilt of their predecessors. But chances are there’s another scandal bubbling beneath the surface right now involving the state. And in ten to twenty years the then Prime Minister will say sorry.