"Stop Telling Me To Be Aware". Is "Cancer Awareness" Irrelevant Now?

We've known smoking causes cancer for 70 years. People still smoke. We are "cancer aware."  So when did it all just become a noise? We know what cancer patients need after treatment ends. We don't fund it.

So what's the point of awareness?

Dr. Hugo De La Pena is a consultant medical oncologist in Southampton who's made unusual choices. He works full-time NHS in the UK with no private practice - refusing to participate in the two-tier system even though it costs him personally. He just believes it's the right thing to do.

He sees patients who've smoked for years despite knowing the risks. Young people with melanoma who were aware, but were sure it couldn't happen to them. In this conversation, we talk about awareness at every level. A System that's aware but refuses to fund what it can't photograph.

Personal awareness: Why people smoke despite knowing it kills them. Why awareness alone doesn't change behavior. Whether awareness without power to act becomes its own kind of harm.

Policy awareness: The UK national cancer plans acknowledges psychological support is "devastating and long-lasting" in its absence. Then funds it at £0. What does it mean to be aware of what's needed but not resource it?

Global awareness: We know 38% of cancers are preventable. We're aware climate change increases cancer rates. We're knowingly creating future cancer patients. What does that say about us? This isn't comfortable listening. 

We ask: If awareness doesn't lead to change, what does? Is awareness its own industry now - something we produce and consume without expecting it to go anywhere? Does awareness let comfortable people feel like they're helping while never experiencing consequences of nothing changing?

And the question we can't escape: Can you mandate a mindset shift?

New regulations say clinical trials should be "participant-centered." The new UK cancer plan says people should be "living well with cancer." We've known for decades what needs to change. So why doesn't it?

24 minutes. One oncologist. A lot of uncomfortable questions.  And no easy answers.

If you know someone who needs to hear this, then please share now and keep the cancer conversation moving in the right way.