Why kindness, not process, is the key to effective support for veterans
Towards the end of November, The Princess of Wales called for a more compassionate approach to those struggling with addictions. It was a call that struck a chord with CEO of the charity Veterans Aid, Professor Hugh Milroy.
Every year, as Christmas approaches, we are contacted by media representatives who want to 'interview a homeless veteran', as though the image of a former soldier, huddled pitifully inside a sleeping bag on a busy street, was as emblematic of the season as Ebenezer Scrooge.
Every year, we politely decline. Our clients are human beings, not commodities, and each one is unique.
In fact many of those mendicant street dwellers are known to us at Veterans Aid. Some are alcoholics; some are drug addicts; some have entrenched mental health problems or gambling habits that have destroyed their lives. A few are newly homeless, frightened and bewildered by how quickly their lives have unravelled. All have a story. Some are true.
I mention these men (and most are men) because they are as entitled to use the word 'veteran' as those who march past the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday or stand to attention at the National Arboretum on Armistice Day. And yet I share Princess Catherine's fear that they will be judged very differently when it comes to seeking aid. Their issues are often complex, hidden and unlikely to be resolved by mainstream support solutions. They are exacerbated by feelings of shame, guilt, failure and fear of being judged. Some deal with this by inventing narratives of heroism or injury to deflect blame; others simply shut down, refusing to believe that help is available for "people like them".
The gap between public perception of veterans and the reality we see daily is huge; few conform to the heroic stereotype, which is why systems repeatedly built around it, are destined to fail. They don't represent any sort of progress, rather a superficial repainting of sails.
Like many who have served, I welcome the announcement of veterans' strategies that acknowledge and value military service - but with a strong sense of deja vu. The promises of new high-street support centres, homelessness funding and many other worthy initiatives sound encouraging, yet they beg the question of whose need they are addressing? Frankly, if that is not understood there is a real risk of a two-tier system emerging for veterans: the deserving and the undeserving.
If the nation is to make a meaningful contract with veterans - because of their one time willingness to serve their country, however briefly - then it must be universal and based on compassion, not suitability.
Princess Catherine is quoted as saying:
"The stigma surrounding those who face addiction allows it to thrive behind closed doors, impacting families and communities, and ultimately ruining lives... Recovery is hard, but with the right treatment it is possible. And this begins with a conversation, a listening ear and showing we care."
Not only do I endorse her words, but I believe that much of Veterans Aid's success in transforming the lives of ex-service personnel in crisis, is due to its commitment to exercising kindness, rather than judgement. And there are other drawbacks to standardised solutions. There has recently been talk of providing support for veterans with “acute needs”.
Paradoxically there are many who do not have high enough needs and who may well end up being excluded due to bureaucracy. So who decides? Someone in a call centre, or a proven deliverer of transformational change?
Case in point - an appeal that recently appeared in my inbox:
"I am currently finding civilian life very difficult after leaving the Army. I served for eight years and have been out for two. Although I am on Universal Credit, I am struggling..."
This veteran is not homeless and is already in receipt of financial support. His problems are complex and unlikely to be resolved by a single agency - but he is still better off than those who have turned, in their despair, to alcohol, crack cocaine, crime or domestic violence.
Some of the homeless veterans who seek our help are criminals, addicts, alcoholics, rapists, abusers, debtors or gamblers. In some cases there is a compelling backstory that explains and 'mitigates' their behaviour, such as childhood abuse, mental health problems, PTSD, familial abandonment etc. In others, it is hard to understand their plight.
But they are all human beings in distress - and they are all in danger of being excluded by systems that alienate less "deserving" supplicants.
Data collection when evaluating success, as we see time and again, is based on the outcomes for those who get help, not on those who are quietly suffering.
I make this point because, under current support systems, priority of need does not translate as universal entitlement. Extreme adversity is almost always multi-faceted, regardless of whether individuals are veterans, and while helping the most obviously deserving is the most attractive option, it is neither fair nor moral and is unlikely to deal with the consequences of unaddressed need.
And to those who are discomforted by the idea of helping the "undeserving" - i.e. the "they brought it on themselves" lobby - I say this: Practical compassion isn’t a soft-option! Rather it’s a cost-effective, preventative, outcomes-driven approach that will help reduce the financial burden on the state and military charity sector in the longer term. Unaddressed need has legacy implications, for families, children, communities and taxpayers.
Stereotyping has imbued veterans with so many virtues, for so long, that we've lost sight of the fact that they are just like everyone else - fallible human beings with feet of clay! Introducing a moral distinction between the deserving and undeserving is wrong. If not addressed, this practice will create a two-tier system that undermines the government's pledge to care for ALL veterans and signal a failure of collective leadership.
Thirty-years' experience in the veterans' world has demonstrated to me that delays due to eligibility criteria, income thresholds, sub-contracts and heavy, process-driven bureaucracy lead to significantly greater costs. Every layer that is inserted between need and delivery of care is a potential obstacle to independence and recovery.
At a time when the country has significant fiscal problems it is critical to mandate a system for veterans that is more operationally focused. (The successful application of this at Veterans Aid delivers a 90 per cent success rather that has been externally validated).
Worryingly, there is little recognition that the success of frontline agencies, like ourselves, relates to immediacy, humanity and a willingness to challenge accepted norms - especially when 'new' proposals are so obviously repackaged versions of failed initiatives.
The Princess of Wales has focused on the need for practical compassion for those struggling with addictions. I make no apology for echoing her in my call to address veterans’ lives in the same unifying, moral way.
And parliament must have unfiltered oversight of who is falling through the cracks. It's not enough to record numbers of those helped; high scores come easily when the bar is set low! The optics may be less attractive but only by acknowledging the current system's failings will we ever improve upon it.
In the final analysis this isn’t a competition. If the system works, everybody wins. So my plea to parliament is this: Ensure that new systems have the basic tenet that all veterans need to be met with open doors, not assault courses. They aren’t mere providers of data to be used for scoring points,
This is a moment for listening, not labelling.
