A Little Less Conversation…. Please”

 The titular “Wee Room” is a safe haven at the bottom of our garden where friends gather, music is played, books are read and ideas flow. It certainly saved my sanity during lockdown, it was a place I could go, watch the birds, be close to nature and to just be.

 

“A Little Less Conversation…. Please”

I have never been a big fan of Elvis or, Kings in general as it happens. It does however strike me that these lyrics, (albeit that from here, the song descends into somewhat concerning territory), could be the soundtrack to a career in social care.

“A little less conversation, a little more action, please
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark.”

(Lyrics by Billy Strange and Mac Davis)

I probably don’t need to explain to many of you but, indulge me. Meetings, consultations, stakeholder groups, short life working groups, have all featured heavily in my working life. Some years ago, I started to play a wee game with myself. When I attended any of the above, I tried to add up the cost of the time of all the professionals sitting round the table. For some meetings, I got to pretty eye watering amounts. A great investment when it leads to action, change or improvement. The thing is that it so often doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying dialogue and consultation are a bad thing nor that it shouldn’t happen, but it is reasonable to expect outcomes.

It feels to me that the approach to discourse in social care has become predictable and formulaic. Highlight issue; Issue is debated (sometimes); Initiate review/consultation (sometimes); Produce report; Discuss recommendations; Kick into long grass (usually).

The calculation I am really interested in is the cumulative cost of consultations and reviews. I am totally in favour of both with the caveat that once recommendations are made and accepted, they are resourced and actioned, and the impact of that action is evidenced. Otherwise, they are a costly way of raising and dashing the hopes and aspirations of groups across our society who really need to feel the change and experience meaningful improvement in their lives. At some point that’s all of us.

Too often, we let the perfect be the enemy of the good. We tangle ourselves up in what ifs and what aboutery.

I wish there were a greater culture of supported experimentation in our sector. Yes, missteps can be costly, but hey, look at the status quo. Incremental steps towards change and improvement enable us to see progress. There is, I feel, a tendency to hold back until the minutiae have been poured over, digested, debated and in some cases, done to death.

 The National Care Service is a case in point. There are so many quick wins to be had that need not significantly impact the final design. Parity of pay and conditions between the NHS and the social care sector being one of them. An important one at that when social care is crumbling before our eyes. However, recent decisions lead me to think there will be a lot more conversation and a lot less of the action that is so needed. Who has the conversations also matters. It’s hard to imagine the significant change we need being delivered by the same people presiding over our current system but that seems to be the plan and feels very far removed from the Feeley Review which looks to me, to be cast to the proverbial long grass.

There are of course some incredibly valuable conversations to be had, it’s not all words in the wind.

Conversations with colleagues can provide the spark for professional development, for growth and change. I am fortunate enough to have had many of them and can honestly say that such discussions have been vital in taking me to a place where my understanding of sound, ethical practice bears no resemblance to the ideas I had at the start of my career.

The conversations I have had with autistic people have kept me focused on the cause and have enriched my understanding beyond anything I learned on a Masters programme. It’s a different type of learning, at times, it has been the hard way. I haven’t always managed those exchanges well, but console myself that recognising that is progress towards doing better.

The conversations with parents and carers of autistic people are grounding. I have been fortunate enough to meet people from all over Scotland. We hear a lot about post code lotteries, well there is no post code lottery when it comes to issues with accessing diagnosis, education and getting the right support at the right time, these challenges are pervasive and enduring.

So, perhaps, what I am after is not so much less conversation but more of the types of conversations that have impact. Meetings that are productive, action plans that result in, well actual action!

As part of my transition to retirement (or retirement light as I like to think of it) I was advised to write a big letter to the universe, listing all my frustrations, all the situations that caused me anger, outrage and grief. I thought about doing it, it appealed to me, a chance to vent and rage against the machine and all that. Then I remembered a sign I have in my office, it says , “What would Elvis do?” I have looked at that sign many times, and the answer is always the same, “leave the building”.  I reckon that course of action will ultimately be better for my soul. It will definitely make for me having fewer conversations and hopefully be more “satisfactioning” for me.

Curls lip; thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen.