TY - JOUR T1 - Confessions of a CQC inspector JF - British Journal of General Practice JO - Br J Gen Pract SP - 128 LP - 129 DO - 10.3399/bjgp20X708605 VL - 70 IS - 692 AU - Stephen Gillam Y1 - 2020/03/01 UR - http://bjgp.org/content/70/692/128.abstract N2 - What? Three out of five for ‘motivation’? Surely not! I checked the feedback on my latest practice visit once more: a row of fives for communication, expertise, professionalism, and so on, but there it was. The shameful ‘three’ somehow implied my detachment from the process. I wondered if my time was up.I first applied to join the ranks of Care Quality Commission (CQC) inspectors (or Specialist Advisers as they are generously styled) from curiosity. I wanted to see how the new organisation worked. I harboured secret aspirations to try and ensure the inspections were formative. Those aspirations were naïve for the purpose of the inspection is plainly summative or judgmental.I submitted to a thorough training and induction before joining an ex-practice manager for my first visit. The CQC has particular codes of conduct for visitors. Shoes shined, laces tied, fragrant behind the ears, and clutching voluminous checklists I sallied forth. In those early days, one often encountered ill-concealed hostility. The Primary Care department of the CQC got off to a rocky start with flawed data being used as background intelligence. ‘Do you not think I’ve got something better to do than talk to you people?’ the doctor snapped. She had calmed down when I interviewed her later, pouring out the details of her stressed working life. The visit passed off uneventfully as most of them do. We presented our findings with recommendations to attend to minor bureaucratic lapses and the out-of-date emergency glucagon. The doctor rolled her hazel eyes and fixed me with a steely glare. Then, as now, I wondered at the visit’s worth.The CQC has many functions: to register, to monitor, to inspect (and rate), … ER -