Why Apathy is Bad for the NHS

 

At the recent start of the football season, comedian and ardent Wimbledon FC fan Geoff Norcott remarked that it was “time to put my mental wellbeing back in the hands of some blokes I’ve never met.” Like many football fans, Geoff’s emotions will rise and fall as he follows his team in another rollercoaster season. Such fans will get angry when their team loses. Angrier still if defeat follows defeat in a downward spiral of sub-par performances. In time though, that anger might become apathy. The lack of emotion arising as a form of mental self-defence as fans’ brains seek to protect them from misery. Experience taught them that their anger achieved nothing.

I have observed something similar happening with our NHS. In recent years we have seen a steady downwards trend in NHS performance being met with anger from those that use it. Media headlines have decried appalling standards while highlighting particularly egregious examples of failure. That anger in the media and from patients alike continued for years. But if you look at the most recent NHS performance figures, anger has been a futile emotion. What has changed however, is the reaction to the publication of such numbers.

According to the Royal College of Emergency Medicine (RCEM), in June 2026 alone over 6000 patients in Scottish Emergency Departments waited over 12 hours to be seen and have their treatment completed. RCEM further suggested in a March 2026 press statement that 871 deaths in Scotland were associated with excessively long waits last year. Where was the public outrage though? Where was the cold fury? Instead, tumbleweed. We have become desensitised. Apathetic. It is what can happen when caring repeatedly hurts and appears to make no difference.

In my coaching room, when a client is feeling apathy about their work, I’ll try and guide the conversation towards what gives them purpose in life. Reconnecting with meaning, revisiting why they started doing their job in the first place, can help unlock ideas about how best to move forward. Apathy is a natural and understandable response to repeated pain. It is a learned self-protection, but it can keep us stuck in a rut. It needs to be recognised and addressed.

Let us revisit the 1948 founding purpose of the NHS for a moment. Aneurin Bevan, then Minister for Health, emphasised that the NHS should be “comprehensive, universal, and based on clinical need, not the ability to pay”. Nearly 80 years later, these principles are in danger of collapse. When a frail, vulnerable patient is stuck on an ambulance stretcher outside an A&E department because there is no room, the system has failed. When patients needing surgery are waiting not just months but maybe years in discomfort, the system has failed. As more people turn to private healthcare to avoid NHS waiting times, we risk creating a two-tier system in which access increasingly depends on ability to pay. The current situation in Northern Ireland where waiting times are incredibly long is particularly concerning and serves as a cautionary tale for the rest of the UK.

The fact that all four UK nations are struggling with devolved healthcare provision suggests that this is not a problem that can be solved by simply changing the political party in charge. The problem is that preserving the founding NHS principles may require us to radically rethink how healthcare is delivered. This might be political kryptonite. If our apathy means we accept failing standards as the ‘new normal’, why would we expect politicians to feel any urgency to change them?

The UK population in 1948 was around 50 million – it is now approaching 70 million. We designed the NHS for a very different population from the one we have now. For example, figures from the Office of National Statistics (ONS) indicate that the proportion of over 80-year-olds has trebled since 1948 (1.6% to 4.8%). Add in to the mix rising numbers of patients with chronic disease, multiple co-morbidities and higher expectations. Modern medicine is great at keeping us alive for longer, but at great cost. I sometimes feel that it focuses on years in the life rather than life in the years.

We don’t need more of the same healthcare; we need a fresh approach. For example, initiatives like “Hospital at Home”, Frailty Teams and Future Care Planning all lead to delivery of care more in line with patient preferences.

Countries like South Korea, which has a slightly smaller population than the UK but a similar ageing demographic, show that high-quality healthcare can still be delivered – they currently rank first in healthcare access amongst all OECD countries, according to the OECD 2025 paper “Health at a Glance”. This paper further suggests that 78% of South Korean patients report being satisfied with their healthcare. A 2026 British Social Attitudes survey found that just 26% of UK patients said they were satisfied with healthcare.

They achieve near universal healthcare coverage paid for by a social insurance contribution made by both employees and employers, with government oversight to cap costs and provide care for those in poverty. Despite this, the OECD report highlights that many patients still find themselves having to pay for high-end treatments not covered by their insurance. A perfect system it is not.  

The conversation about what future UK healthcare should look like needs to be an honest and realistic one, which includes how it is funded. Binary “Save the NHS” versus “Privatise It” arguments aren’t all that helpful, but we should acknowledge that the current system is not working for patients and that other ways of organising universal healthcare exist.

Maybe we don't need to get angry again. Perhaps we need to start caring again. Caring enough to notice when unacceptable becomes normal. Caring enough to stop accepting that today's failures are inevitable. Caring enough to have the difficult conversations about what our healthcare system needs to become — rather than simply demanding that it returns to what it once was.