Staff at two of the United Kingdom’s major health trusts have come under intense scrutiny as allegations of bullying, toxic workplace cultures, and the mistreatment of whistleblowers continue to emerge. The latest revelations paint a troubling picture of internal dysfunction at both Nottingham University Hospitals NHS Trust (NUH) and Belfast Health Trust, raising pressing questions about patient safety, staff wellbeing, and accountability within the National Health Service.
At Nottingham University Hospitals NHS Trust, the fallout from the largest-ever independent maternity review in the UK has exposed not just clinical failures, but also a rift between grieving families and some staff members. The review, led by senior midwife Donna Ockenden, began three years ago after harrowing allegations of harm to mothers and babies. It has since grown to involve nearly 2,500 families, each with their own story of loss or trauma.
Yet, as BBC Nottingham reported, some of these families have faced “unfathomably heartless” criticism from within the trust. Families say they have been accused of seeking compensation and even of “grooming” other families to join the review. Dr Jack and Sarah Hawkins, both former NUH employees whose daughter Harriet was stillborn in 2016, have been at the forefront of the campaign for accountability. Speaking candidly, Dr Hawkins described the comments as “horrific” and added, “We have been called ‘compo seekers’.” He continued, “There has been a comment made that people are in this group because they have been groomed by Sarah and I and other people who have been around for a long time, and that has come out of NUH.”
For the Hawkins family, the campaign is not about financial redress, but about lasting change. “We want change. We don’t have any other reason to be in this fight,” Dr Hawkins explained. “To reduce that down to ‘they’re seeking compensation’ is unfathomably heartless.” His wife, Sarah, echoed the emotional toll: “Life couldn’t get any worse... and then they said this about us, and we just feel like these complete, utter monsters.”
Chief executive Anthony May addressed the issue at the trust’s annual meeting on September 3, 2025, acknowledging the pain such comments had caused. “Some families very recently have fed back to me shocking examples of being stigmatised or gaslit—criticised for either being part of the independent review or for campaigning for better services,” May said, describing the allegations as “absolutely shocking.” He added, “The families I’ve met are some of the most courageous people I’ve ever come across, who have not only suffered lifelong trauma, but they’re happy to tell their experiences over and over again to try and improve (services).”
May stated that he had written to every staff member at the trust to make it clear such behavior is “not acceptable.” However, he also noted the difficulty in attributing the comments to specific individuals, as they may have originated on social media or in casual conversation. Still, he emphasized, “No matter where they hear it or where it comes from, it’s got to stop.”
The scale of the scrutiny is significant: more than 850 staff members at NUH have come forward to participate in Ockenden’s review. Meanwhile, the trust faces a separate, grave investigation for potential offences of corporate manslaughter related to deaths in its maternity services. The shadow cast by these events is long, affecting not just those directly involved but also the broader trust community.
Across the Irish Sea, Belfast Health Trust—the largest of Northern Ireland’s five health trusts—has been grappling with its own crisis of confidence. As reported by BBC News NI, a “toxic and unnerving” environment has been described by current and former staff, with retired surgeon Dr Kieran McManus becoming the first medical consultant to speak publicly about the culture of bullying and harassment. Dr McManus, who worked at the trust for almost four decades, said, “You are working under a degree of oppression and that makes you risk averse—the worst thing is a surgeon who is risk averse and who won’t take risks on a patient’s behalf. You are afraid to ask questions, you are afraid to make eye contact with people in corridors.”
Central to the controversy are so-called “secret files” kept on staff members, often without their knowledge. Multiple sources told the BBC they felt “paranoid,” “insecure,” and “mentally unwell” upon discovering files were being kept outside of official HR channels. According to a union representing doctors, at one stage there were about 120 such files, a practice the union says amounted to maladministration.
The trust’s medical director, Dr Chris Hagan, confirmed to the Stormont Health Committee that there were around 100 secret files on doctors in 2020, a number that has since been reduced to about 15 as part of the Maintaining High Professional Standards (MHPS) process. Dr Hagan explained, “We went from about 7-8% of the medical workforce in some sort of process to less than 1%.” The trust employs about 1,400 permanent medical staff and up to 700 trainees.
The BBC also revealed that Belfast Health Trust has paid out millions of pounds in legal settlements to staff who alleged victimisation and career damage after whistleblowing, including at least two seven-figure sums over the past seven years. The trust acknowledged paying £1.3 million in settlements, though BBC sources suggest the true figure is double that. Many doctors who settled their cases signed Non-Disclosure Agreements, further shrouding the issue in secrecy.
Whistleblowers have faced “unwarranted scrutiny” and “a detrimental impact on their career,” according to the Hospital Consultants and Specialists Association (HCSA). The union alleges there have been “attempts to silence and to take detrimental action against individuals who raised patient safety concerns.” Tactics to suppress truth, silence criticism, and cover up impropriety were cited as ongoing problems.
Belfast Health Trust, for its part, has begun civility training courses and recently appointed a new chief executive, Jennifer Welsh, as part of a broader effort to address the culture. The Department of Health has also voiced support for strengthening whistleblowing procedures and fostering a safer, more transparent environment for staff to raise concerns. “The department recognises the vital importance of whistleblowing in safeguarding patient safety and promoting transparency,” it said, noting an ongoing review aimed at tackling poor culture and behaviors within the trust.
Both cases, though separated by geography and circumstance, underscore a common thread: when internal cultures become adversarial, the very people meant to protect and heal—patients and staff alike—are left vulnerable. The stories emerging from Nottingham and Belfast are a stark reminder that institutional change is not just a matter of policy, but of empathy, courage, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths.
As investigations continue and reforms are promised, many will be watching closely to see whether these troubled trusts can restore public trust and ensure that those who speak up for safety and justice are met not with hostility, but with respect and support.
