This collection of essays, strongly themed and organised, makes for fascinating reading, whether you are Christian or not, whether you have a faith or not. The volume is based on lectures and talks given at the now five years’ old Westminster Abbey Institute, which Claire Foster-Gilbert directs. It was set up to promote serious moral discourse in and around Westminster, reaching out beyond the Abbey's traditional congregation to those who work in Parliament, the civil service, the armed services, the police and anyone beyond who fits into the web of connection and interconnection to Westminster. The Dean, Dr. John Hall, rejoices in the fact that West Minster, once on soggy Thames marshland, as opposed to East Minster, St. Paul's, predates Parliament and those other institutions that are now gathered around the Abbey – Buckingham Palace, Scotland Yard, Horseguards’ Parade, Parliament itself and the Palace of Westminster, plus various departments of State. A Benedictine Foundation at its beginnings, the Benedictine virtues of stability, obedience and the conversion, or conversation, of manners, are used to explore what it might mean to think about putting principles of behaviour, that govern how we work, into place in our public services.

That thinking runs as a thread throughout. It colours the discussion between Peter Hennessy and Claire Gilbert, which ends the book but should be read first, despite referring to all the other essays. Hennessy praises public servants. She rightly makes the point – which may seem obvious yet is anything but – that ‘… [the] direction of travel is the key to it. It is not a case of having futile aspirations that are impossible; it is an incremental thing. It is the pride you get from doing a little bit better as you get older and think about it a bit more, and also what you transmit to the next generation coming through. That is a very good test of it, and there's something gone wrong if you transmit cynicism.’

The truth of the matter is that most people working in public services try very hard, most of the time. Of course there is cynicism, and of course there is defensive practice. Of course there are fears that one will be blamed for ‘not getting it right’, and of course there are the days when, dog tired, the public servants wonder whether what they do is worth it, particularly given the often unrelenting attack on them by some of the public and some of the media. And yet, the nation as a whole – split as never before in modern times since the Brexit vote – values the NHS as an ideal of public service. The formal service of thanksgiving to celebrate 70 years of the NHS, held (rightly) at Westminster Abbey itself, celebrated that trust and that belief. People tend to believe that doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, NHS managers, are all trying to do their best. Even when things go wrong, there is often a sense that nurses are little lower than the angels, and doctors are saints. And that's despite genuine concerns about defensive practice, over-dependence on guidelines, poor communication between multi-disciplinary team members in many cases, and sometimes inadequate premises! Similarly, teachers, all too often vilified in the recent past, are now once again admired and respected, and our schools, in many areas, are flourishing and producing well-rounded, educated young people.

So why the concern? There are two reasons, hinted at but not wholly addressed in this volume. Claire Foster-Gilbert rightly argues that moral analysis is courageous, taking in the three-legged stool approach of duty-based, rights-based and goal-based thinking. She also argues that one may not be able to take the time to consider, think, debate, discuss and act. Compromises may be needed, but that is acceptable as long as it is clear what those compromises are. The missing piece here is that, all too often, those moral decisions have to be taken in a great hurry. The psychiatric social worker has to decide, often extremely speedily, whether to section a very unwell patient. The doctor has to decide all too rapidly, without even time to check whether a patient has an advanced decision, whether to go all out to save a waning life. The teacher has to decide instantly whether to comfort an injured pupil, perhaps injured by another pupil, and hug them and hold them close, when all guidelines advise no touching between teacher and pupil. And there are many other examples. Alongside moral courage – with its duty of analysis – sits another form of moral courage, which is the willingness to think quickly and act in what seems, at the time, to be in the ‘best interests’ of the person concerned.

Second, the civil servant who believes a minister, or a government, is embarking on a seriously mistaken, or even immoral course. That civil servant has a duty to speak out – but moral courage also requires safety for the person who makes the case. Those who need to earn a living and have serious worries about loss of job and prospects may be compromised, but their position is all too understandable.

And yet this volume does help. It praises stability. It argues for moral reflection. It praises public servants. It even suggests a tomb for the ‘unknown public servant’ in the Abbey. It puts moral discourse back into the heart of the debate about public service, and it should, indeed it must, encourage those who work in our public services to rejoice in thinking and consideration, in moral reflection as well as rushed activity. And it ends by praising what our public servants do – because there is both a moral heart in public service, and an intellectual, reflective, moral head.