Stuart Andrew

I begin by welcoming the Secretary of State to his new post, and thank him for sharing his very personal story about what the NHS means to him. I look forward to our future exchanges, however long he is in post. I also pay tribute to the former Health Secretary, the right hon. Member for Ilford North (Wes Streeting), with whom I have had a few moments across the Dispatch Box. I know that the NHS has also been very important to him personally. During my time in hospices, I saw the incredible work that the NHS does, and despite the politics that we may have—and I will be referring to the right hon. Gentleman a bit more later on—we all care deeply about the national health service and want the very best for it. There are moments in politics when one almost has to admire the confidence of Governments—not their competence, necessarily, or their judgment, and sometimes not their timing, but certainly their confidence—and nowhere has that confidence been more magnificently displayed than in the presentation of the Health Bill. If one had listened carefully to the former Secretary of State for Health and Social Care over the past two years, one could conclude only that this Bill was not merely legislation, but apparently the parliamentary equivalent of the second coming. In every speech, interview and carefully staged hospital visit with sleeves rolled up, they delivered the same message: at last—at long last—the NHS was to be modernised, integrated, digitised, streamlined, revolutionised and transformed into a gleaming technological marvel, where patients floated frictionlessly through a system powered entirely by innovation, efficiency and ministerial self-belief. I say gently to Ministers that whenever a politician begins using the phrase “once-in-a-generation change” on such a regular basis, it is usually wise to place one’s hands protectively over one’s wallet, given the sheer cost of what is to follow. What became increasingly striking was not simply the scale of the promises, but the sheer showmanship of them, with the former Health Secretary speaking less like a Cabinet Minister wrestling with one of the most complex public services in the world and more like a man auditioning to narrate the trailer for his own leadership campaign documentary. And now, Madam Deputy Speaker, we arrive at the great political twist: the man who spent two years announcing the future has departed before the delivery date arrived, like an architect unveiling magnificent blueprints before quietly moving abroad just before construction begins. Into this situation walks the new Health Secretary. Members can imagine the scene: the Prime Minister sits stubbornly in No. 10, grinning with all the reassuring confidence of a man standing knee-deep in a flooded rowing boat insisting that the situation merely requires a modest redistribution of water. Into this bunker is summoned the new Secretary of State—formerly the Chief Secretary to the Treasury, the very man who helped to allocate the famous £202 billion funding settlement now repeatedly cited as proof that every problem in British healthcare has theoretically already been solved.