My coffee with an alleged offender

With Huw Edwards and another programme about Andrew Windsor, here’s a long read about accusations at Great Ormond Street Hospital, while I worked there.

What’s it like when a story of alleged sexual misconduct hits an organisation?

I’m not writing this to take shots at the individual, over ten years ago, to brood or gloat. I do think it gives a little insight into these cases.

Note: I can only write about my previous work respecting patient and staff confidentiality and consent, for personal/professional ethics and legal reasons. I am only writing from memory and publicly available information. If I don’t respond to certain comments and questions, that’s why.

A knotty problem in Cardiac. Pixabay, via Pexels

I was Head of Communications. The Chief Executive and I had talked through the latest drama, and I was walking back to my office, a little off site. Then I was called to come back. Had I done something wrong? Or one of my team?

The CEO, a confident doctor, looked like she’d had a bad shock. I was one of the first few people to be told that a head of department, a charismatic and internationally renowned heart specialist, had been accused of sexual misconduct in his charitable work abroad.

Luring Professor B away from one of the top European hospitals to head our department had been a coup. His work was genuinely innovative, reducing the need for invasive heart surgery in children. It offered new vistas of better treatment for young and old, and through us, he was teaching it to the world. (Unlike Paulo Macchiarini who was a charlatan.)

Accusations and scope of the crisis

The Professor regularly travelled to Africa with a surgical charity. Youths and men had accused him of enticing or pressurising them to have sex with him. Some were his patients or their relatives, for some he paid for their schooling. The abuse of power was obvious. Some were under the UK age of consent and homosexuality was both illegal and heavily stigmatised in that country.

The news was devastating. If true, two immediate questions. Were patients in our hospital at risk? And had we failed to safeguard them? Could the Professor have social relationships with UK parents and families – could he groom discharged patients? How many victims - how had he got away with it - were there warning signs missed? Had our own systems failed?

He was heavily involved in fundraising and publicity. He was articulate, he could explain things without jargon, he spoke four languages and as a hobby he was a talented musician. He didn’t overclaim - the sober accuracy of GOSH claims in our PR built credibility.

Our actions

We had to do the right thing. Incredulity as to whether this could be true soon turned to incredulity that he had been so bold and stupid. In Africa, he had not used the accommodation for other Western staff or the patients, but his own separate apartments elsewhere. He encouraged youths to bunk down with him. Jaw dropping, and it certainly convinced me we were going to part company with him.

A small team handled his suspension, the investigation, dealing with the regulators, and assessing the risks here and abroad. Everything had to be done by the book because that’s the only safe way to do it. No short-cuts or trying to massage facts. We would be under exceptional scrutiny – from government and regulators straight away and the public when it got out. You can’t succeed in this stuff by smarm. You need practical plans to ensure patients are safe.

With our disciplinary process, the medical regulator, and the law involved, we needed a holding statement for different groups affected, and an immediate helpline for families concerned about their own children, ready to go live at very short notice.

The management and the department were devastated at this possible betrayal. The two cardiac leaders involved considered him a friend. I watched their professional discipline fight their personal feelings, and win.

Why the coffee?

I had to go and talk to him, as I would any member of staff who might be approached by the media, to discuss handling. I had a duty of care. He denied everything, he agreed talking to the press was a bad idea, and I made sure he knew he could get independent media advice from his medical defence organisation. I was confident the advice I was giving him was in his best interests whether he turned out to be guilty or not - but there could come a point where he’d need his own team.

The Professor had trained in Italy and was a coffee buff. He was a little off his best, a bit shaken. He said the youths had been paid to lie. It was some sort of conspiracy to discredit him.

He wasn’t creepy; he was presentable, articulate and cultured. I remember thinking, he could have found any adult partner he wanted in London.

You “should have” known

Without warning signs, how are you supposed to know when you hire someone?

There is no blood test we could give staff for wanting sex with children or teenagers. Polygraphs were discredited by their inventor a lifetime ago. There had been no complaints at our hospital or the previous employer. Many people thought there was something creepy about Jimmy Saville. I doubt many people got further with the Professor than noticing he didn’t talk about a partner and that vague sense that he might be gay. Like lots of NHS staff are.

And before long, we had a hard decision. The department would struggle without him. Should we let him do (some) of his clinical and teaching work, knowing the shock that would cause among families and the media.

‘Can we defend him working?’ the CEO asked me. Everyone in that meeting turned to me. What did I tell the CEO and why?

NB. To this day, the Professor continues to deny all the allegations and the finding of the UK regulator against him. I may or may not be able to answer questions.

Continued shortly.

( From)Rumour, Thomas Derrick, via Artvee