This article is written by John Lamb, and adoptive father of two, who shares his views around the new proposals for post-adoption contact with birth family and the current state of post-adoption support in England.
Post-adoption contact with birth family
I recently read, – like many of you – news coverage of the report regarding plans for birth family contact post-adoption, carried elsewhere but exemplified in this article from the BBC
I understand that birth family contact is an emotionally testing subject, especially early on, and it’s obvious that birth families can present varying levels of complexity, or even risk, when planning contacts. This area is emotive, nuanced, and fraught with difficulties on all sides. How can we balance the needs of adopted children (at which we are often little more than guessing, pre-placement), the wellbeing of birth family members, and the needs of adoptive families for safety – physical and emotional? “
Certainly, it is not easy. Complex. Worthy of discussion. But among the discussions I heard and read regarding the above article, I heard this concern – expressed reverentially, whispered, as it were, the loudest “Oh dear. I’m concerned that this will discourage adopters”.
And it made me think of other times, when I heard those tones, that secretive, strangely urgent tone. When relatives lay half-conscious nearby, and yet practicalities need to be debated. When children play within earshot, but elderly pets’ fate must be settled. The tone used when dark truths must be voiced.
Feeling heretic
Maybe it was too soon after adoption week – that festival of the saccharine – but I realised as suddenly as that, just in my preconscious response to the tone of that whisper, that I was now a heretic. Possibly, I have been for a while. Despite being an adoptive father – one disrupted, one remains – and despite being involved, as far as I can be in campaigning and education – here I am, writing for an adoption magazine, after all – I am now, and for now, a heretic, an outcast, and probably a minority. I am the remainers, the Paul-not-John-ers. The “we-must-sell-granny’s house-now-ers”.
It is taboo. But it must be done. We must discourage adopters.
To cry foul straight away is to believe too much the “Adoption week” narrative. That adoption is good, that children are in need, that childless couples need to complete their families. Yes – these things are true, broadly and in general. And much good is done by adoption in this nation.
Find the statistics
But go and read the most recent adoption barometer.
Read between the lines of the adoption support section of that report.
Read the Office For National Statistics’ numbers on adoption breakdown and disruption – oh wait, you can’t. Because no such statistics are collated. Funny that.
And scrutinise your own experiences of adoption support. Is this really good enough?
This is an essentially fringe issue. We can never move any dials electorally on it, because it simply isn’t sufficiently germane. Or rather, people perceive it as both fringe, and by choice, so they don’t regard it as mainstream. Prisons, for example – British prisons are in deplorable state, but no democratic momentum can be mobilised – not entirely because “well, they deserve it, don’t they?” but because in the vox populi – “That will never be me”.
NHS? Could be any of us – will be all of us, indeed.
Schools? Everyone, or everyone’s niece and nephew at least. Close enough. Bins, and potholes, and trains, and tax – everyone. On these issues, some democratic pressure can be brought to bear.
Adoption support
Adoption support? No. “That will never be me”, and therefore, no political momentum can be built. I have tried. My MP’s aides are sick of my emails. My councillors close ranks and fob me off. My mayor has yet to respond.
On April 20, 1964, from the dock in a Pretoria court, Nelson Mandela spoke on behalf of his fellow defendants, saying : “I… felt that without violence there would be no way open to the African people to succeed in their struggle”
This is Nelson Mandela, of all people, justifying his use of violence – justifying, as it would be seen by some, terrorism. I’m not trying to compare the struggles, but I feel today a similar mix of his reluctance, and also resolution.
There is no realistic chance of succeeding in improving the provision of support for adoptive children and parents unless the local authorities presiding over this state of affairs can be motivated to improve it. And their motivations are only twofold – votes and money. I have come reluctantly to believe that what we call adoption culture in this country is actually merely a side column in Local Authorities’ accountants books. Given that we’re unable to motivate change democratically in what is a largely unaccountable service, I’m convinced that the only avenue of campaign remaining is to make clear that the financial consequences of poor adoption support are more serious than those of properly funding it.
And the most effective way to do that is for adoptions to decrease. And the baleful accusations from those with entrenched interests no longer move me.
“But this will discourage adopters!”. Years ago, I may have retreated – but not now. If facts discourage adopters, it is better that they be discouraged. If the state of adoption support – or disruption support – is discouraging to adopters, it is better that adoption support be made fit for purpose than that I decline to write about it.
I know this will be controversial – I can hear already the shrill cries: “But won’t someone think of the children?”
Believe me, I am.

Head to the homepage to read the new articles.