Britain's care system is collapsing – but Ed Davey has a plan

Telegraph

15-05-2025

Bookshops receive their fair share of polemics from politicians seeking to enhance their own status, usually in the run-up to an election. Worthy (and often dull) subjects are tackled by this or that serving or aspiring party leader, in a bid to convince voters, even those who only spot the books from afar, that they're serious people with a serious agenda. Such is the cynicism of the age.
Why I Care by Ed Davey is not in that category. On first glance, the title might put off the curious reader; it reeks of Lib Dem virtue-signalling, proclaiming the moral superiority of a party from whom we're well used to hearing lectures about how to be better people.
But even in the first few pages, it becomes clear that the title has a literal meaning that transforms this book into a sincere, pragmatic and powerful analysis of one of the most urgent dilemmas facing our country today. For Davey himself is a carer, has been for most of his life and will be for the rest of it.
He lost his father when he was four years old and his mum, from cancer, when he was 15. He spent years as a teenager helping to care for her, aided by his two older brothers. His own son, John, has a neurological condition that has left him with severe learning and physical disabilities and the need for round-the-clock, lifelong care. And Davey's wife, Emily, has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
It is in this context that Davey attempts to tackle the realities and challenges – but also the joys and satisfaction – that come with the responsibilities of caring for a loved one. Why I Care is not an easy read; it is frequently uncomfortable, because it is so honest about the circumstances experienced by so many carers of all ages. Yet Davey's optimism and his pure love for his family, his obviously sincere concern for the plight of others in the same situation, shines from his writing.
This is, in part, an autobiography, and as with all political narratives, it relates the author's political career from non-committed student to full-time employee of the Liberal Democrats in Westminster and thence to a parliamentary seat himself. Political nerds might have preferred a more detailed – and indeed, a more strictly chronological – account of what, by any measure, has been an extraordinary political career.
Having entered the Commons in 1997, Davey rose to the Cabinet in 2012, in David Cameron and Nick Clegg's coalition government, serving as Secretary of State for Energy and Climate Change – a historically unusual achievement for a Lib Dem politician in itself. He lost his seat at the 2015 general election – the first serving cabinet minister to do so since Michael Portillo in 1997 – but regained it two years later, and then, after Jo Swinson's catastrophic defeat at the 2019 general election, became leader of his party.
That this rollercoaster ride was experienced even as Davey and his wife coped with their own domestic challenges says much about the man. And it becomes clear that writing about himself and his own career was never his priority for this book: his chief concern is helping the reader understand not just his own plight, but the challenges facing the millions of unpaid carers in the UK.
His authority comes partly as a result of his own experience and partly because of his work as MP for Kingston and Surbiton, in which he deals with constituents negotiating the maze put in carers' paths by local and national government. There are more than six million unpaid carers in the UK, a million of whom work more than 50 hours a week. As Davey points out, the continued operation of the NHS depends on the willingness of this army of volunteers to keep doing that work. Were they to down tools for any reason, the system would be unable to function.
And yet, despite how essential these workers are, the recognition, support and rewards are, at best, inconsistent. Davey eschews the temptation simply to berate successive governments for their failings, and tentatively explores policy solutions instead. Even so, those who expect a detailed template for a future system of support for carers will be disappointed. According to Davey, it is our politicians' tendency to opt for solutions first, and only subsequently to seek cross-party consensus on broad principles, that has led so often to failure. For instance, the current Government's decision to set up a further three-year review of care under Dame Louise Casey is a source of frustration to him: Davey believes that previous reviews, not least the review led by Andrew Dilnot and commissioned by the Conservative-Lib Dem coalition, have already covered much of the same ground.
Davey recommends what to most would seem a straightforward and common-sense innovation: allocating a named carer and social-worker to families, much as most people have a named GP. As you might expect from a Liberal Democrat, Davey is more sympathetic to a 'ground up' approach than a centralised one. 'The Casey Commission should look at this, rather than wasting time pondering a centralised, remote and bureaucratic system. I'm totally convinced good community models would enhance the efficiency of a named care worker approach.'
In explaining his motive for writing Why I Care, Davey writes: 'I hope I can promote a debate about how parents or unpaid family carers can be reassured that some alliance between family, community and state will ensure their loved ones will always get the care they need. And that the care will be safe and kind.' It is that last word that stands out. It is not a word you might expect to read in most books about policy but it permeates this one: Davey has spent his entire life being kind to those he loves and those he represents. He is not a man who dines out on his own moral superiority; he just gets on with it and hopes that the Government can too.