Solidarity and moral perception

Abstract

The images of three young people are very much in my mind as I write this editorial: The first, a thin injured teenager believed to be a terrorist, being worked on by emergency services in Boston; the second, a young student nurse, speaking at the Royal College of Nursing conference in Liverpool, England, about the value of nursing; and the third, a young woman being pulled from a collapsed building in Dhaka, Bangladesh. The world seemed very small around the time I was writing this editorial. I woke to find an email from a Boston friend telling me about the explosions at the marathon. I immediately checked the Internet and learnt more about the bombings. It made no sense. What we saw and heard, in addition to the devastation, were Boston citizens and the emergency services doing everything they could to save lives and alleviate suffering and many ordinary people doing heroic things. A few days later, we heard President Obama sympathise with the families and friends of those who died (Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell, Lu Lingzi and Sean Collier), offer hope to those who were injured and praise to all who helped, including Boston nurses and doctors. He emphasised the resilience of the people and the need for justice and peace. As time went on, we learnt more about the background of the brothers accused of the Boston bombing. The media were actively engaged in analysing the brothers’ biographical details and gaining perspectives from those who knew them or had views: most were emotional, many were baffled and some struggled with conflicting ethical perspectives. We heard a senior Boston policeman, for example, talk of the need to do more for marginalised groups and then go on to say he would not oppose the death penalty for the younger brother. It was reported in the Boston Globe that neuroscience researchers were keen to conduct an autopsy on the older brother who died. They are, the report states, keen to find out whether trauma from boxing injuries may have contributed to his behaviour. We all are rightly challenged by such events and crave explanations for the inexcusable and perhaps for the inexplicable. In the United Kingdom, as readers will know from previous editorials, nursing has been rocked by relentless reports that members of the profession are implicated in different forms of inhumanity. Many patients in our hospitals and care homes, often the most vulnerable, have been neglected and have been at the receiving end of behaviours that result in violations of their human rights. Many nurse leaders, educators and researchers around the United Kingdom are involved in initiatives to understand and respond constructively and effectively to care deficits. Many are also prioritising the celebration of good practice, and we have had such examples in this journal, for example, with the human rights and nursing awards and local presentations for exemplary ethical practice. This is, however, generally not so newsworthy. That is, until the appearance of a second-year student nurse at the Royal College of Nursing conference in Liverpool in April. Molly Case performed her poem ‘Nursing the nation’ which she said was a response to the ‘bad press’ and to ‘highlight how wonderful we are’. Her poem concluded, ‘You say we’re not doing enough. We promise