08. National Heist Service

 08.

National Heist Service

 

 

You wake up with a red eye. It is a simple subconjunctival haemorrhage, something minor, but you do not know that, so you panic. With a history of vision problems and diabetes, you would normally head straight to Moorfields. But in the interest of “easing the pressure on hospital A&E departments”, you search online for where to go: “Minor Eye Conditions Service (MECS)” seems to fit best, even though a bloodshot eye does not feel minor to you. And they refer you to your nearest local optician, Boots Opticians, with the NHS logo on the door even.

 

They welcome you, reassure you, sit you in front of the machines and carry out the tests they see fit. Until, after a couple of questions, and holding the receipt with your eye pressure results, the manager appears and tells you that these tests are chargeable: either you pay right there and then, or your tests go in the bin. Very politely, they tell you that you must search, surprisingly, on the exact same website you already accessed, for your local optician and call ahead so they can examine you, but given the time, it will have to be the following day. And your tests and your answers end up in the bin while you are left with your red eye and no idea why.

 

It is a minor condition that clears up after a few days, but the situation illustrates how the outsourcing of the National Health Service prioritises profit over health, cementing a two-tier system. Critical areas such as eye care or dentistry operate under this logic: either you face an overwhelmed public system, or you are forced to pay the toll of a ruthless private market. The GP themselves, who should be your trusted medical professional, is a private contractor receiving public funds per patient seen. And often they tell you “Pharmacy first” because comercial logic prevails over the Department of Health itself building a public health centre with all the necessary doctors. Similarly, you often go to the pharmacy not knowing whether, after being seen, they will ask for payment for entering that small consultation room they increasingly have, or if they will throw your results in the bin once again.

 

It seems they seek to profit from the most basic needs. It is understandable if you choose Dior frames over an own-brand pair, but you never chose to lose your sight or have red eyes. Or to have any health problem at all. The foundation of the Welfare State was to care for you “from the cradle to the grave”, but it increasingly demands tolls or subjects you to endless waiting lists. It is the commodification of human vulnerability.

 

What happened in that optician is not a mere anecdote; it is the symptom of a broken model. When the State delegates your health to a commercial franchise, it leaves you exposed. Holding a diagnosis hostage in exchange for a payment is not community healthcare; it is extortion. But under this covert privatisation model, the patient ceases to be a citizen with a right to health and becomes, simply, the victim of a profitable heist.