The public revelation by Sir Chris Hoy that he has an untreatable form of cancer, which started in his prostate, was a selfless act by a remarkable and inspirational man.

Offering his own tragic example as a warning to others in what precious time he has left and, in doing so, sacrificing his own privacy and that of his family, speaks volumes about his values and humanity.

Like millions of middle-aged men, his experience struck a personal chord with me. If prostate cancer can claim one of Britain’s most successful Olympians - a near-perfect specimen of fitness and health - then none of us is safe from its reach.

As a wake-up call, it couldn’t have been clearer and, judging by the thunderous global reaction generated by his story, it was heard far and wide.

Again, like many men of my age, the only way in which I would willingly enter a health facility of any kind would be in the back of an ambulance. But, after reading Sir Chris’s story, I finally agreed to heed what my children have been urging me to do for years and have myself screened. Then something strange happened.


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After visiting my local GP surgery, the practice nurse told me that, since the story broke, they had been inundated with men asking to be tested for prostate cancer, but that the only way I would qualify is if I was suffering from abnormal symptoms.

In other words, no-one can only be checked until they are in the same position as Sir Chris was when he was given his terminal diagnosis. In his case, he had a pain in his shoulder, which was a direct result of the cancer in his prostate having metastasised.

The morning after his revelation, Labour Health Minister Stephen Kinnock did the rounds of broadcasters, in which he gave a commitment that the Government would “seriously look at” introducing targeted screening for men over the age of 50, with a family history of prostate cancer, as well as for black men, who have an unusually high predisposition to the illness. In other words, a non-commitment.

I don’t doubt the sincerity of Mr Kinnock, but he knows better than anyone that - with the exception of breast cancer for women and bowel cancer for men and women over certain ages - the NHS is geared to specifically avoiding mass diagnoses of cancers and other serious illnesses.

It’s not that it doesn’t have the resources to fund mass screening; we saw during the Covid pandemic how speedily such programmes can be implemented. Rather, it’s that it doesn’t have the capacity to treat the thousands of additional patients such screening would inevitably identify.

The direction of travel for the global diagnostics industry is towards cheaper and more convenient forms of testing.

One of the most immediate legacies of the pandemic was to dramatically alter the public’s perception of diagnostics and widespread inoculation. This boosted the profile of the industry and spurred investment in diverse diagnostic methods.

As a result, we are already seeing the development of technologies that will make the diagnosing of serious illnesses like cancer and heart disease become faster, easier, and less expensive.

One of the biggest players in the market is right here in Scotland. Last year Dxcover, a Glasgow-based clinical-stage diagnostics company, raised £9.7 million to develop spectroscopic liquid biopsy technology - blood tests - for early detection of multiple cancers.

Globally, there is an ongoing race to develop an industry-standard, multi-disciplinary diagnostic device similar to the fabled Star Trek tricorder, the box used by Dr McCoy to diagnose everything from rare genetic disorders to minor injuries with a simple wave.

A decade ago, Qualcomm's $10m Tricorder XPRIZE challenged innovators to create a real-world equivalent: a single technology capable of diagnosing a vast array of conditions.

Final Frontier Medical Devices won with its DxtER, diagnosing 13 conditions using non-invasive sensors and data analysis.

AI's rapid advancement has since revolutionised the field, accelerating diagnostic capabilities beyond prior imagination.

Last year, UC-Santa Cruz unveiled a portable laser-based device, commercialised by Fluxus Inc., that simultaneously identifies viruses, DNA, antibodies, and cancer markers in blood samples.

In the 1960s, the pharmaceutical industry promised a "pill for every ill" but medics and public policy decision makers quickly realised that that testability doesn't equate to curability.

While the physical and cost benefits of rapid and cheaper diagnostics are clear, there is a growing awareness that they might create new and unintended consequences for medical practitioners.

In particular there is a recognition of the dilemma GPs face when presented with immediate and potentially life-altering information about a patient's condition.

Put bluntly, it is not desirable for doctors’ surgeries to suddenly be overrun with men who may have to be told they will soon die from prostate cancer, and not just because GPs lack the necessary end-of-life counselling skills.

Chris Hoy's announcement prompted many men to seek prostate adviceChris Hoy's announcement prompted many men to seek prostate advice (Image: PA)

There is delicate balance between rapid diagnostics and allowing healthcare professionals the time to carefully analyse and plan treatments.

Denmark has some of the highest cancer rates in Western Europe, in part because it has among the highest detection rates and a public health service, funded by the world’s heaviest tax burden, which is able to cope.

Scotland, in contrast, has similarly high cancer rates that are caused, to a greater degree, by the lifestyle choices of its population, and a public health service that is, by any measurable standard, on its knees.

Improved testing must also address health inequalities. Advocates for early diagnosis are often affluent and educated, potentially leaving vulnerable populations, particularly the elderly and poor, underserved, and unheard.

There is an unspoken reality within the medical profession that less information is often better than more. Doctors have long followed a paternalistic approach, withholding certain diagnoses from patients, especially if disclosure wouldn't impact treatment decisions positively.

Their working assumption is that what you don’t know can’t kill you, until it’s too late, by which time you may be taken by something else. Does a patient really need to know that they have a raised cholesterol level if they are awaiting a liver transplant operation?

The problem with this approach is that most people want to know if they have cancer and, preferably, the sooner the better.

Sir Chris’s revelation was selfless and timely, not least because it highlights how unprepared the NHS is for its consequences.


Carlos Alba is a journalist, author, and PR consultant at Carlos Alba Media. His latest novel, There’s a Problem with Dad, explores the issue of undiagnosed autism among older people.