The Tom London/Helen Joseph Hospital debacle has sent ripples across South Africa’s healthcare landscape, exposing deep fault lines within our systems, relationships, and even within ourselves. It’s a saga as polarising as it is revealing, and the ongoing blame game highlights institutional failings and our collective human tendency to protect, defend, and deflect when faced with uncomfortable truths.

Numerous online publications featured the original viral complaints from former radio broadcaster, Tom London, about the degraded state of Helen Joseph hospital.

Read article here

Following the initial publication, a slew of defensive articles flooded mainstream media.

Read article here

As well as on social media.

View video here

A fractured healthcare landscape

South Africa’s healthcare system is a paradox – a study in contrasts. On the one hand, there are moments of brilliance: the resilience of our healthcare workers, the ingenuity of community-driven health initiatives, and a public-health system that, despite its challenges, offers care to millions who would otherwise go without. On the other hand, the cracks are undeniable. Inefficiency, overcrowding, resource shortages, and unequal access plague our hospitals and clinics. And beneath it all, systemic inequities linger, leaving the most vulnerable to bear the brunt of a failing infrastructure.

Scandals like this one shine a harsh light on these systemic failings, but also serve as a magnifying glass for our individual responses. How do we process these events as medical professionals? How do they trigger us? And what can they teach us about ourselves?

The first cut: dissecting my own response

When the story first broke, my initial reaction was sharp and definitive. This is typical, I thought, rushing to judgment. I immediately dismissed it as another example of a potentially privileged individual criticising a system they can’t possibly begin to understand. That quick dismissal was my defence – a way to shield myself from discomfort and avoid engaging with the situation's complexity. Putting your head in the sand is more manageable – too many other things are on the never-ending to-do list.

But as the indignity unfolded, a morbid sense of curiosity crept in. I began to wonder about Tom London’s perspective. What motivated him to voice such inflammatory remarks? What personal experiences shaped his words? This curiosity was quickly followed by anger – a visceral, gut-punch reaction to his critique of a system I’ve dedicated my career to despite its flaws. His words felt like an attack, not just on healthcare professionals but on our value and service.

This anger unsettled me. It shifted my equilibrium, creating a storm of emotions. I do not like to be unsettled. My late granny had a famous phrase she often used: “The one who angers you controls you.” It was time to pause and reflect. So much energy went into being angry, upset, and unsettled. What was this anger revealing about me? What was I defending, and why?

Scalpel in hand: a coaching dissection

Like surgery, self-reflection requires a steady hand and a willingness to delve beneath the surface. What you discover may be unpleasant, but you must lance the wound to initiate healing. Using the scandal as a metaphorical scalpel, I began dissecting my own reactions, layer by layer.

1. The surface cut: immediate judgment

At first glance, I saw the scandal through the lens of my own experience: patient privilege, ignorance, and a lack of understanding of the systemic pressures we, as healthcare providers, face. But what stories was I telling myself here? Was my quick judgment a way to protect my professional identity and sense of value?

2. The subcutaneous layer: curiosity

As I cut deeper, I noticed a shift. Beneath the judgment lay curiosity. What was his story? What motivated his perspective? This curiosity wasn’t comfortable – it forced me to consider perspectives I’d rather dismiss.

3. The muscle: anger and defence

Here lay the raw, unfiltered emotion. His critique felt like an onslaught – dismantling everything we fight for as healthcare professionals. My anger was a defence mechanism rooted in fear. Fear that his words might be valid, fear of being misunderstood, and fear of (or fear for?) our profession’s fragility.

4. The heart: reflection and accountability

The deepest cut brought me to a place of stillness. Why was I so defensive? What was I protecting? In reflecting, I began to see that my reaction wasn’t just about him, but about me. What part of my professional identity felt threatened? And how could I show up differently?

The body speaks: physical defences

As I reflected, I noticed the physical manifestations of my defences: tight shoulders, a clenched jaw, and burning tension in my chest. These weren’t just bodily sensations; they were stories my body was telling me – stories of long hours, burnout, and the emotional weight of caring in a system stretched to its limits. By tuning into these sensations, I began to understand the layers of stress and vulnerability beneath my reaction.

What can we learn?

This scandal holds up a mirror for all of us – healthcare professionals, patients, and citizens. It asks uncomfortable questions: how do we show up in the face of criticism? What narratives do we cling to? Where can we take accountability for systemic failures, and how do patients experience us within these systems?

When we pause to reflect on our reactions, we see the unconscious patterns shaping our responses. These defences, although once necessary for survival, can limit our growth if left unchecked. By becoming aware of them, we open the door to transformation.

Reflection space: a personal check-in

To explore your own responses, consider this personal check-in:

Mind: What stories or judgments do you hold about the scandal? How do these narratives protect or constrain you?
Heart: Which emotions arise? Are they rooted in fear, frustration, or perhaps empathy? What deeper concerns do they reveal?
Body: Where do you feel your defences physically? Is there tightness, tension, or discomfort? What might these sensations be trying to tell you?