I have yet to decide what areas or topics to address next, having more or less run out of steam on stigma and health inequalities. I haven’t lost interest in these two old faithfuls, it’s just that, unless I hit an unexpected and exciting new stream, I’m only edging forward and at risk of becoming tedious even to myself, let alone others. This is why it is of slight concern that I am publishing quite a lot (for me, that is). In 2018 I have published one sole-authored book, edited another, and seen five chapters and five peer review papers either published or in press (plus there’s another book and another paper forthcoming). Why the concern? Precisely because I don’t want either to repeat myself or, at the age of 70, to start delivering anodyne overviews of literatures. I said much of what I wanted to say in Sociology, Health and the Fractured Society in Spring, 2018.
I am also in two minds about conducting an new empirical study. I ran the possibility of undertaking a small-scale investigation of ‘primary care in transition’ with the senior partner of a local practice recently, and she was open and receptive. I said I would write to her with a synopsis. I’ve drafted one side of A4 but not dispatched it yet. If I do it, the focus will be on how all practice staff – GPs, nurses and allied health workers, and admin and reception personnel – define their situations through the changes consequent on the Health and Social Care Act of 2012 and subsequent government ‘assaults’ on the NHS (most of which the 2018 Act made possible but which have largely occurred under the radar). Shall I, shan’t I? In its favour are that it would be warranted and worthwhile; against, that I am currently at risk of taking on too much (I have for some reason agreed to examine two Ph.Ds in the new year for example).
But there is more by way of background to these quandries. Why this little burst of productivity since retirement five years ago? Undoubtedly it is due in part to a desire, even urge, to write: I suffer withdrawal symptoms if I go too long without my laptop, hence my repeated references to ‘café society’ and ‘bar society’ where I do most of my composing. Non-writing commitments I undertake for other reasons: I give occasional talks and do some teaching at UCL because I like it, and I agree to examine as a favour to friends and colleagues.
But back to writing. To what extent is it satisfying a desire or urge, and to what extent am I on a roller coaster that I can’t get off? A while back a village friend asked me what I did that was creative. I replied, a touch tetchily: ‘I write, what do you do?’ And certainly I think and find writing, even academic writing, creative. But she meant, did I go to music or painting classes, or did I grow and exhibit vegetables in the village horticulture show? Ok, I’ve already told my daughters to have me put down if I start growing slide-rule straight cucumbers, but … did my friend have a more general point? I certainly have a sense of guilt if I neglect (academic-related) reading or writing for long, and this intrudes on and contaminates ‘rival’ activities; not all the time of course, but often. If I’m sitting in ‘my’ corner of the King Willie with my laptop, I tend to sigh inwardly if a neighbour come in and wants to talk. In other words, I have to fight unsociability.
The long and the short of all this is that I cannot yet conceive of calling a halt to my writing. As for giving talks, I am relying on friends and colleagues to let me know when I should stop