How do the values which managers hold affect their work? Are these values shared by all managers? Can these values be codified into a recognisable ethic? One way of exploring these questions is to use Donabedianās (1980) well-known typology: input, process and outcome. What do we know about the intrinsic values that health service managers are likely to hold? How do they demonstrate them in their work and is the outcome the only way of judging whether they are appropriate or not?
Input
Where do people acquire their values? Presumably it is a mix of inculcated values from upbringing and more consciously acquired values matured by experience. For some, values may be largely defined by their religious belief, but for many others, values will be a melange prepared over their lives, not always consistent, and in the course of the working day probably not often articulated.
Managers in a classroom discussion away from the pressure of everyday decision-making, find it difficult to articulate their values until faced with dilemmas which will illustrate them. This supports the view that managers are essentially pragmatists and can only make sense of ethical issues within a specific set of circumstances. If this is so, guiding principles which hold good in all circumstances will have little meaning for them. Yet philosophical discussion in the field of biomedical ethics often relies on what Beauchamp and Childress (1994) have described as the āfour principles approachā, an approach invoking the principles of autonomy, beneficence, non-maleficence and justice. Does this mean that there is a fundamental mismatch between the views of these pragmatic managers approaching every dilemma according to context and circumstance, and others, philosophers and clinicians, who prefer to be guided by a set of abstract principles which aim to ensure a degree of consistency of approach?
Even if this is the case (and it is dangerous to be dogmatic about such matters), is it problematic? The four principles provide guidance; they are not in themselves capable of indicating absolutely what should be done. So for instance, it is reasonable to hold the view that all dealings with patients should honour the principles of autonomy, beneficence and non-maleficence. Interpreted in context, this means that a patient has the right both to receive respect for their individuality and to expect that their interests will be furthered and will not be abused. But interpretation of these principles is by no means easy. For instance, suppose a case conference is set up to discuss the disclosure by a volunteer play assistant that a child of six has displayed inappropriate behaviour in class which suggests sexual abuse. Should the play assistant, as a non-professional and a volunteer who is not regulated by any code, be invited to the case conference, a professional forum? She might be unreliable and talk about what was discussed to neighbours and friends. The childās right to confidentiality would then be betrayed. But despite this risk, the childās interests might be best served by inviting the play assistant to give a first-hand account of what she observed. The parents also have rights in the matter. The ethical dilemma is to decide which principles predominate in meeting the childās needs. How indeed are we to rank principles? Is confidentiality more important in this case than getting to the truth, even if there is a risk of a loss of confidentiality?
This example shows that principles help as benchmarks against which to judge specific cases. But to arrive at appropriate action there has to be discussion, transaction, and the judicious assessment of evidence. For managers, the sort of fundamentalism which suggests that principles are always true whatever the circumstances is of little use. Yet it sometimes seems that clinicians are happier with rules which prescribe a consistent course of action.
There are obviously considerable dangers in having no fixed point to govern conduct. If everything is contingent on circumstance, who will ever know what is right and what is wrong? Away from the daily care of patients, managers faced with the current (1996) political ideology may find it difficult to know how to address issues which arise from market competition. What to reveal and what to keep secret is a particular dilemma. Is it right that transactions about contracts for care should be discussed only in private by the Boards or, given that it is public money which is being used, does probity require such discussions to take place in public even when such revelations would effectively wreck any meaningful competition between providers? Which principles are to be observed? It is not surprising that managers find it difficult to decide what constitutes ethical behaviour.
Externally derived principles, whether those emanating from philosophers, clinicians or politicians, cannot be easily relied upon to guide a manager. Perhaps he or she is better advised by their own personal value system, however varied they may be between one manager and another. But some managers would maintain that what they believe personally is their own affair and is of a different order to how they behave at work. For others, personal conscience can spill over into the working situation, particularly in quasi-political situations where secrecy is the issue.
A manager can also be faced with resolving dilemmas of conscience among other staff. By law no nurse is required to assist in a termination of pregnancy, but a medical secretary who for similar reasons of concern did not wish to type letters about patients who had terminations, lost her case against unfair dismissal on the grounds that her personal beliefs were inappropriately expressed by her refusal to undertake this part of her work. There is a suspicion that once the law is called in to adjudicate on matters of conscience, the result is likely to be somewhat arbitrary.
Managers may themselves have to arbitrate and in such a role their own values will be crucial. Supposing a nurse refuses to assist with electro-convulsive therapy on the grounds that this particular treatment, although widely used, is not altogether understood and could be said therefore to be an assault on a patient. Should the manager support the nurse and remove him or her from that duty or should he or she tell the nurse that his or her role is to look after the patient? The nurse is not, after all, administering the treatment.
There can be no one answer. The manager, like anyone else, will largely act according to his or her own set of values. Unfortunately, many people, both clinical colleagues and the public more generally, are suspicious of managersā own values precisely because they are usually undeclared. Managers in the health service are undoubtedly shy about speaking personally, but why should this be so? Their work is centred on helping others to be more effective, on solving othersā problems, on predicting and planning the future of the organisation or service; all of which activities allow little scope for putting their own values to the fore. But if this is their argument, managers may be misjudging the situation. Studies of effective leadership constantly show that the expression of values, of ideals, is one of the most commanding attributes of effective leaders.
There may be a more sustainable argument against the expression of personal values and that comes from the tradition of being a public servant, whose ethic demands the implementation of government policy. What would happen if personal beliefs were to interfere with this? We may have gone beyond the myth that public servants should have no political allegiance as that would be to deprive them of their democratic rights. But it is not considered appropriate for managers in public service to advertise their politics.
Understandable though this stance may be, it can be challenged. Undue compliance with government can be seen as lacking in integrity. Many NHS staff are critical that managers do not join them in demanding more resources. Such staff may assume that managersā reluctance is self-interested because managers do not wish to offend those in power. Managers may not get the credit for honouring the principle that the duty of managers is to administer the system within the resources available; that this is a principle which demonstrates integrity of purpose.
Managers could probably do more to act as an effective agent between the government and the views of staff and communities. Some government policies are likely to have unfortunate results, so part of the duty of public service managers is to bring these to the attention of their superiors without suffering from threats of discipline for being disobedient. It must be a matter of concern that managersā sense of their own integrity is not always strong enough to speak out against policies which are likely to fail. This may be because of the essentially adaptive nature of their role, which leads them to be pragmatic, operating, it may appear, from no fixed points of belief. Managers can correct this impression by demonstrating their concern for ethics through process ā the second stage of Donabedianās typology.