Druin Burch

Druin Burch is a consultant physician, a former junior doctor, and the author of books on history and medicine.

The absurdity at the heart of the junior doctors’ strikes

From our UK edition

Immediately after the Easter weekend, junior doctors are planning a six-day strike. Unless they call it off, Starmer has said today, they’ll be punished. They have been offered a deal. On the table is an above-inflation pay rise, along with government funding for postgraduate exams that doctors have historically paid for themselves, and an offer of 4,500 additional specialty training places. ‘There are still 48 hours left to choose a better path,’ said Starmer. After that, the offer disappears. The strikes are being driven by those who are most radical in support of state healthcare in its current model.

My daughter’s living my football dream

From our UK edition

Next door to Jeremy Clarkson’s farm, behind spiked steel fencing and overlooked by edge-of-town bungalows, are the grounds of my daughter’s football team, the Chipping Norton Swifts Under-15 Girls. On cold, leaden Saturdays, I stand and watch. The clubhouse does cups of instant coffee for a pound but they take only cash. I don’t bring it because the urge to drink the coffee has never yet found me. What does find me, as I watch the girls’ match, is the urge to play.

NHS Online won’t cure Britain’s creaking healthcare system

From our UK edition

What is it that doctors actually do? The answer is not obvious and I say that as a physician who has spent the past 30 years in hospitals. But the question matters. Which tasks can be done better or more cheaply by nurses, paramedics or AI depends upon it. So, too, does the government’s push to create NHS Online. Trailed last September in Sir Keir Starmer’s speech at the Labour conference, the service is due to open in 2027. 'The NHS’s new online hospital will see a huge shift in the way we deliver care,' said Stella Vig, clinical director for elective care at NHS England. What she doesn’t say – what nobody says – is how anyone could know such a shift will be an improvement. NHS Online will provide 8.

Should teenagers be vaccinated against meningitis B?

From our UK edition

Two people have died of meningitis in Kent: an eighteen year old year 13 student named as Juliette, and an unnamed 21-year-old. The outbreak has centred on a nightclub, Club Chemistry, and on a private party. Since news of the outbreak broke, the newspapers and television have been full of images of students queuing patiently for prophylactic antibiotics. Concerns have been raised that the UK Health Security Agency could have raised the alarm hours, or perhaps a day, earlier. Some of the cases have been confirmed as meningitis B, a strain for which adolescents are not vaccinated. Infants are offered the vaccine at eight and 12 weeks and at one year, but protection wanes after about five years.

The BBC cannot tax Netflix viewers

From our UK edition

The BBC has described itself as being set to enter ‘managed decline’. The government is currently reviewing the broadcaster’s charter, and yesterday the BBC issued a response to its green paper saying that if the status quo remains, public service broadcasting will die. ‘Huge changes in the media market, audience behaviours, and an outdated funding model’, have apparently caused the BBC’s licence fee income to drop by a quarter. What the BBC didn’t acknowledge was that these ‘audience behaviours’ amounted to people concluding it was no longer worth paying for. That isn’t because ‘huge changes in the media market’ mean people feel paying for broadcasting is ‘an outdated funding model’. Instead, they’re choosing to pay for something else.

Can Wes Streeting get the sick back to work?

From our UK edition

Health Secretary Wes Streeting has tried using the NHS for social engineering before. Previously, he’s suggested that weight-loss jabs could get people back to work. This week he’s gone further. Yesterday, Streeting said that ‘for the first time’ he would be ‘making the NHS accountable for patients’ employment outcomes’.  Streeting is right that ill health is contributing to unemployment. Economic inactivity due to long term illness runs at a record level. The rise has been steep post-Covid, with assessments shifting from face-to-face to virtual. And what’s most striking is that the surge has particularly affected those between 16 and 34.  There are 1.9 million people unemployed, and another 2.

Pity the fool with a nonsense name

From our UK edition

‘If there is one thing I dislike,’ said P.G. Wodehouse, ‘it is the man who tries to air his grievances when I wish to air mine.’ His grievance was conversational, mine is nominative: I pity those with made-up names. There was a time when names came from a modest catalogue: the Bible, aunts and uncles of fond memory, a wider culture that worshipped the royals. Maturity involves a conservative deference to tradition. One learns to presume that norms have more value than drawbacks: dress in an ordinary style, have the manners people expect – and bear a name that connects you to others. Beware any job that requires new clothes, said Thoreau. He meant coats and trousers but it applies to birth certificates, too.

Is it a surprise middle-class women are using Ozempic most?

From our UK edition

New research reveals a startling truth about the people paying thousands for weight-loss drugs: they're mostly middle-aged, wealthy women. In other news, February is cold and the snowdrops are here. The Health Foundation, a British health charity backed by a billion-pound endowment, confirmed today what most people would have guessed: those paying thousands of pounds a year for these drugs are not the poorest and most deprived, nor the fattest, nor the most in need: People living in deprived areas already face poorer health outcomes than those in more affluent areas, and men experience worse health outcomes than women. Yet these are the groups that have the lowest uptake of GLP-1 treatments. GLP-1 agonists are in the news so much because they work.

How can measles have broken out in London?

From our UK edition

Last month the World Health Organisation removed Britain from its list of countries where measles had been effectively eliminated. The disease has been circulating continuously since late 2023. Last year there were almost a thousand cases, and a child died in Liverpool. Now there is a measles outbreak in Haringey and Enfield. So far it has affected fewer than a hundred, with no deaths. That could change at any moment. If you want to warn people that travelling to certain countries is high risk, you name those countries. The fear that doing so is racist is not only misplaced, it is harmful to the people you need to protect A third of children in those boroughs aren’t protected against measles, mumps, and rubella. Other boroughs are as bad; most only a little better.

Does coffee really lower the risk of dementia?

From our UK edition

People who drink coffee and tea are less likely to suffer dementia, according to a large study published this week. The research is from Harvard and appears in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA), one of my profession’s top outlets. There is every reason to presume its conclusion is wrong. A total of 131,821 people were followed over a period of up to 43 years. The number of dementia cases was high, giving the study good statistical power. Every few years a dietary questionnaire asked participants how much tea and coffee they drank: After adjusting for potential confounders ... higher caffeinated coffee intake was significantly associated with lower dementia risk ... and lower prevalence of subjective cognitive decline.

The latest junior doctors’ strikes aren’t about pay

From our UK edition

Junior doctors have voted to extend their strikes – by a whisker. Turnout for yesterday's vote collapsed to less than 53 per cent – a whisker above the threshold needed to make it legal. Framed as a pay dispute, the strikes are the result of a needlessly ruined career structure, and a government perversely willing to leave British doctors unemployed. The strikes started after an early February 2023 ballot in which turnout was more than three quarters and 98 per cent were in favour. In the following strikes, support remained at or above 90 per cent, but turnout kept dropping. In March 2024 it was 62 per cent, last July it was 55 per cent. Some readers will feel juniors merit more pay; I suspect there are few who think the injustice is such that they are right to strike.

The solace of spring

From our UK edition

By the calendar it is winter, but the days are longer and the birds are singing. Snowdrops are scattered around the front door, and crocuses have already broken through on my lawn. Mostly they are slim and pale, but when the sun has shone they have opened their purple cups to its warmth. Virginia Woolf compared the yellow anther within to a lit match.  In defiance of the calendar, spring shows its face. Hellebores droop with dappled flowers. Kneeling in damp earth to trim back their old leaves reveals their profusion. Catkins are on the trees, magnolia buds are splitting with promise, the scent of the daphne cuts the cold air, and the blade-like leaves of spring bulbs, ‘the green fuse that drives the flower’, push up along the grass bank beside the road.

Don’t bet on Elon Musk’s failure

From our UK edition

Tesla’s last quarterly report revealed that deliveries had declined for the second year running and, for the first time, annual revenues had fallen. “It is starting to look as if Tesla is finished,” concluded a piece in The Spectator. To what extent Musk will succeed can’t be known, but his track record demands thoughtful uncertainty at the least If you felt you’d read about Tesla’s death before, you would have been right. Success in one arena guarantees nothing in another – brilliant men, such as Tesla's boss Elon Musk, can be bafflingly stupid. Writing them off too soon, though, can become a bad habit.

What Lego taught me about my own mediocrity

From our UK edition

Lego – I can’t bring myself to capitalise it more than once – was born today in 1958, when it was granted its Danish patent. Parents have been performing staccato hops over the plastic bricks ever since. I will not be alone in remembering a Lego set as being an object of endless desire. As a Christmas or a birthday approached, my mind was stirred not with gratitude for the son of God, or for my parents having brought me into the world, but with anticipation for the hollow rattle of a rectangular box hidden somewhere in a wardrobe. Children don’t question why they receive gifts on their birthdays rather than give them.  How I’d dream of the worlds the Lego would unfold.

Belsen haunted my friend to the grave

A patient, an old woman with white hair, stripped of speech by dementia, followed us each shift, staying an inch behind, wanting nothing more than human presence. We let her into the staff room, where she hovered behind whoever was nearest, her tattooed number visible on her forearm. They found a young girl, Doris, who could speak some English. Malnutrition had left her mouth and face gangrenous I am aware of only one other patient, these past thirty years, who had survived the Nazi death camps. Normally sane and sensible, dusk brought confusion, dragging him backwards in time. Each sundown he began screaming and we could not console him; he took us for guards. I drugged him.

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Labour’s drink-driving law won’t cut road deaths

From our UK edition

'We will tread more lightly on your lives,' promised Keir Starmer in his first speech as Prime Minister. Yet his government has not lifted the weight of the state in their 18 months of power but made it more intrusive. Today, as part of a new road safety strategy, Labour is proposing cutting the drink-drive limit from 80 to 50 milligrams per hundred millilitres of blood, matching the stricter Scottish limits. I'm not convinced this crackdown will save lives. I have not had to peel the remains of mangled children and adults from cars and pavements, as many police officers and paramedics have. But as an A&E doctor I have heard their stories and looked after those they brought in who survived, sometimes only long enough to die as I tried to keep them alive.

January is the time to drink

From our UK edition

Of all the months to choose for abstinence, January seems the strangest. May is intoxicating by itself; winter, when life feels threatened by the silent ministry of frost, needs cheer. Christmas and New Year are past, the birds are already singing loudly in the early mornings, snowdrops push up their green fuses, hellebores grow fresh leaves, and the magnolia buds swell. They will bloom on sunny but cold days and look perfect for a moment, before frost burns their scarlet and white edges to brown. Spring is coming, but winter retains its hold. January is the time to drink port. Dickens understood this. He mentioned drinks of all kinds a great deal, and port more than any other wine.

Christmas and the luxury of fallow time

From our UK edition

Christmas is now a festival of family and overeating, yet it keeps its pockets of quiet reflection, even for those for whom the sacred has slipped away. There are times when life insists we do nothing, and some come at Christmas. Holidays bring downtime, moments when work and parties, preparations and cleaning, computer games and social media, all cease. William Henry Davies knew the value of time left fallow: What is this life if, full of care,We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughsAnd stare as long as sheep or cows. I remember a fertile silence as a young man in a wintry chapel, where incense lingered and the only sound was stone settling after six hundred years.

The welcome tyranny of Christmas cheer

From our UK edition

In 1946, buoyed by post-War optimism, the World Health Organisation adopted a famous definition. Health, it declared, was more than the mere absence of disease or infirmity, it was 'a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being'. A beautiful and tyrannical idea, sentimentally idealistic and setting an impossible standard for human lives. In these qualities of cheerful and unreasonable despotism, it resembles Christmas. Our wish to make kids happy at Christmas turns us into untiring fifth columnists of festive tyranny On the first of November, collecting my cardboard cup of coffee in Costa, I noticed it was decorated with a festive scene. I scowled, which comes naturally, but felt a small and undignified flutter of pleasure.

Death at Christmas

From our UK edition

That time of year thou mayst in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold,Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.In me thou see'st the twilight of such dayAs after sunset fadeth in the west,Which by and by black night doth take away,Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. Not the most festive of openings, but Christmas is about darkness as well as light, and the sonnet is in the key of bleak midwinter. We know roughly what year Christ was born – although, since it was before Herod died, it may have been a few years B.C. But about the month of his birth we know nothing. December 25 echoes the pre-Christian pagan festivals, embodying their hopes – of spring, rebirth, eternal life – in Christ’s coming.