Mal Fletcher comments on the British approach to handling diseases like cancer

Mal Fletcher

Medical research shows that the UK lags behind other major developed countries in beating certain forms of cancer. Today, experts suggest that at least part of this may be explained by the famed British 'stiff upper lip' culture.

Some scholars question whether the British national psyche was ever, historically speaking, any more stoic than those of other Western cultures. Others argue that it became so only in the Victorian age. After all, they say, pre-Victorian England was rife with urban tales of degraded pleasure-seeking, self-centredness and a wilful ignorance of the plight of the poor and infirm.

Yet by the time Britain emerged from WWII, the 'stiff upper lip' attitude was widely celebrated as a contributing factor in its survival and victory. Churchill's promise of 'blood, sweat and tears' at the height of the war epitomises a national fortitude that has been respected, if not lionised, ever since.

In our time, a similar stoicism may be evident in the way we treat a much more personal sense of invasion - invasion by disease. There may be several reasons for this, aside from any cultural echoes carried over from the wars.

For people aged over fifty, there may be a reluctance to 'make a big deal' of personal challenges - even those as serious as cancer - because these seem insignificant compared to those our parents or grandparents faced during wartime.

There may also be, in this generation a reticence to admit to ageing - particularly because it has drawn so much of its identity from youthful escapades during the 60s and early 70s. In their youth, Baby Boomers' self-awareness was heavily shaped by their engagement with, or observation of, momentous events - such as the civil rights movement and Apollo missions - and by a growing global consciousness, which came on the back of satellite-linked mass media.

It was easy for Boomers (I'm on the young end of that cohort) to believe that they were a unique generation. They believed that the world they would leave behind would be a vast improvement on the one they'd inherited.

It may now be difficult for some of them (us) to accept the hard truth that 'make love not war' didn't carry anyone far past the summer of '68. The carefree generation of the party-hard early-70s is, predictably, having trouble facing old age with anything like its former joie de vive.

For some of those who do acknowledge impending eldership, there seems to be an attitude of 'let's go out on a youthful high'. A recent American study revealed that around 50 percent of Boomers have decided to spend their savings before they die, rather than passing them on to their children.

The British reticence to be open about cancer may also be related to its high ranking in the table of most unpleasant diseases.

In some cases, cancer is not necessarily the certain death sentence it once was. Yet any cure is, it seems, still a way off. Meanwhile, popular culture speaks constantly to us of people who are 'battling cancer', or have 'lost their fight against cancer'.

Cancer is still the ultimate bogey man, lying in wait and threatening to reduce the most virile among us, if we let it, to the status of helpless victims. This seems to apply no matter who we are or how much money we have in the bank.

It's not surprising, then, that of all the diseases we could potentially face, we may least want to entertain the possibility of cancer.

There is also, perhaps, another more practical factor at play in our 'stiff upper lip' attitude toward this disease. It relates to the point-of-treatment experience within the NHS.