Not quite what the doctor ordered

When Dr Bob Baker wrote a satirical piece that criticised the General Medical Council, he expected some flak. But not from his own trade union

Being sacked from a magazine column shouldn't be this much fun. If you're going to get the boot, better make it on a point of principle. Even better if the sackers are senior doctors who make themselves look humourless into the bargain.

A few weeks ago, I – along with my colleague Dr Pete Hambly – was summarily fired from our longstanding satirical column in an obscure periodical called BMA News. This is a freesheet that is bundled in with the British Medical Journal; it is the mouthpiece of what passes for a doctors' trade union, the BMA.

We were sacked because we wanted to speak out on a number of important issues. Among them are the new doctors' contracts, "negotiated" by the BMA on our behalf, of which we were very critical. But that wasn't our chief crime – they'd have to sack almost everyone on those grounds. We were given the bum's rush for running a piece critical of an organisation that ought to be beyond reproach because it is the body that regulates and polices doctors: the General Medical Council.

We didn't even break the item – we just ran a short gag based on someone else's scoop. It was a gift that, as satirists, we couldn't ignore. The story was, in essence, that the Charities Commission had noted with concern, when the GMC applied for charitable status, that no GMC officer was ever required to provide receipts when claiming expenses. Further, one very senior GMC official was paid £170,000 a year plus free use of a central-London flat during his term of office. The payment was described as an "honorarium"; his payments since 1995 had totalled about £1m.

An honorarium to most doctors means a few quid for inconvenience. My last cheque of that description, for travelling to Manchester to give a lecture, was for £45. Of course, it's up to the GMC to decide how much it pays its senior staff, and it is totally clear that the individual concerned did absolutely nothing that was illegal or even faintly dishonourable. There are two issues here, though. The first is openness. All doctors have to register with the GMC to practise. And it isn't cheap – about £300 a year. We have a right to know how the money is spent.

The second is the relationship between two separate organisations – the GMC and the BMA. Our spies in BMA House tell us that our joke caused what the Americans call a conniption among the BMA high command. The BMA wasn't going to have any part in criticising the GMC, even if that criticism was justified; apparently meetings took place at the highest level. Then a rumour emerged that "those responsible for slander and smears will be identified and dealt with". Did they mean us? Yes, they did. Cue sacking.

The BMA is our trade union. The GMC is answerable only to the Crown, via the Privy Council. It is not answerable even to Parliament. Who can question the GMC if not the BMA? If there is a conflict of interests between doctors and any other organisation, the BMA should represent doctors, not the cosy interests of a tight club of chums. This "doctors closing ranks" mentality is what the public assumes to be medics' worst failing. Shame it appears to be true.

The BMA occasionally represents its members in contract disputes. My co-writer Pete asked if it would represent us in this one. It declined, which was a shame, as it might have led to the BMA suing itself. But perhaps it's as well it didn't represent us. If it had done as well for us as it has done for doctors in recent contract negotiations, we would probably have ended up having to pay back all the money we ever earned.

I've had great fun with this story; my doctor colleagues are split between derision and incredulity. Most call the BMA's dissent-stifling behaviour "Stalinist". I disagree. Stalin would never have bothered demeaning himself by tackling a couple of obscure, lippy gag-writers. But, of course, Stalin had real power – and, reportedly, a vestige of a sense of humour.