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Working in mental health services has always been recognised as a stressful occupation and many studies have attested to the high levels of stress and burnout. This study examined comparative levels of stress among inpatient and community mental health staff across five European countries.Using a quasi experimental pre‐test post‐test design, data was collected from staff at baseline, six months and 12 months. This paper examines data from the baseline period. Staff working in acute inpatient wards and community mental health teams in Denmark (Aarhus, Storstrøm), Finland (Tampere), Norway (Bodo), Poland (Warsaw) and the UK (Cambridge), were asked to complete the Maslach Burnout Inventory (MBI) (Maslach, & Jackson, 1986), the Mental Health Professional Stress Scale (Cushway, Tyler & Nolan, 1996) and a demographic questionnaire designed for this study. Results on the MBI are reported in this article. Both community and inpatient teams reported high levels of burnout. There was evidence to suggest that burnout differed by site but not by team type. The English teams scored highest in emotional exhaustion and depersonalisation. Relatively high levels of work‐related personal accomplishment were reported across all of the sites.

As UK substance misuse policy has increasingly focused on the concept of recovery, policymakers, service providers and service users have found “recovery capital” a useful concept to understand the barriers to and facilitators of recovery from substance misuse. There is a rich strand of research that considers the composition of recovery capital in terms of the relevance of resources such as access to mutual aid, familial support and friendship networks, stable housing, structured psychosocial support and education, training and employment. However, such general accounts have tended not to engage with the potential spatial element of recovery capital; that is, how location contributes to the acquisition and management of recovery capital. The purpose of this paper is to add nuance to more generalised accounts through a critical interrogation, exploration and analysis of the role of geography in recovery.

The paper draws on in-depth interviews with service users and service providers in a predominantly rural county in the south-west of England.

The ability to build and sustain recovery capital is shown to be marked by a complex web of social and spatial inclusions/exclusions.

This paper makes three important contributions to prevailing understandings of recovery capital. First, it shows how narratives of recovery are intimately tied to perceptions and experiences of place. Second, it reveals some of the important challenges and complex dilemmas that local drug and alcohol commissioners face in designing and delivering recovery-orientated treatment systems. Third, and finally, it argues that there is a pressing need for a more nuanced appreciation of the social and spatial dynamics of recovery capital.

THE county librarian is often asked in amused, curious or contemptuous tone “what do the “villagers” read?” In a purely agricultural county consisting of small villages with no urban area it is possible that literary appreciation is on a lower level than in counties where there are a number of towns; for it is an undeniable fact that although a country man's ability may be equal to that of his town cousin, the standard of education is higher in the towns than in the country. Town dwellers have more varied interests and as a rule have had to make more use of the education received in youth than the village folk whose daily work makes less demand upon the mental faculties.

To analyze more deeply and in a systemic perspective food system outcomes, and the contribution that small farming can give to the achievement of those outcomes, a detailed analysis of food systems is required, which highlights its components, activities and dynamics. Thus, this chapter deepens the analysis of the food system. We first reflect on the complexity of the concept of food system, discussing the abundance of different conceptualizations proposed in the scientific and political debate on the base of different disciplines and perspectives. Then, a comprehensive representation is shown, which is then unpacked. The food system actors, assets and functions are explored, with an eye on power relations among actors and on the main drivers of change. Governance (that also includes actors external to the food systems) is called ‘reflexive’, as long as it characterizes a system that is able to reflect upon the conditions and the forms of its own functioning, to detect and analyze threats and to change accordingly, with the involvement of actors external to the food systems. This analysis, which represents the focus of this section, provides the base for the description of the food system vulnerability developed in Chapter 4. Drivers of change and governance emerge as key categories to consider.

The essential investments in new product development (NPD) made by industrial companies entail effective management of NPD activities. In this context, performance measurement is one of the means that can be employed in the pursuit of effectiveness.

LITERARY cliques come and go. It is inconceivable that we should ever be without them. Sheep calls unto sheep; boobs of a feather flock together: the principle needs no elaboration. They appear from nowhere, they mutter among themselves in a strange hieratic jargon, they burgeon with aesthetic theories, and then lapse back into obscurity. There were the Imagists, who dug up one or two rancid theories from the French, wrote little pamphlets of the sort of verse long beloved by Magazines For Young Ladies, and passed away. There were the Vorticists, who presented the world with the munificent gift of an assortment of isosceles triangles. The Georgians put straw in their ears and held conversations with academic sheep and cows. More recently the London Aphrodite group insisted upon being both obscene and heard; and appointed themselves, as it were, a sort of Cook's Tourist Agency to a corybantic paradise whose sole recommendation was a profusion of bosoms and beer. And there have been others too numerous to mention. United they stand, derided they fall: and indeed it is ridicule that kills them off. The Bloomsbury Group, however, have had a long reign, and are by this time rather firmly entrenched. They cannot merely be disregarded. They cannot, like many other cliques, be laughed out of court. They are not clamorous. They do not make a parade of absurdities. Their influence is all the more potent for being, as it were, subterranean.

I SUPPOSE the question uppermost in the mind of a reader seriously considering the state of fiction at the present time must inevitably be: where are the successors to the thrones at present filled by the older writers? One by one the old school are passing from our midst. Have we, among the younger writers, any qualified to occupy their positions, to inherit their prestige and authority? The names of Mr. Walpole and Mr. Priestley immediately spring to mind. They have reputations. They write abundantly. They are talked about. Their work sells. They are the typical traditionalists of modern letters, the inheritors of a long and fairly continuous tradition of technique and subject matter. They are craftsmanly novelists. They are stylists in their way. They are quiet, urbane, efficient and conscientious. Neither possesses any profound depth of feeling. Neither possesses, as yet, that infallible instinct for character by which, and by which alone (as Arnold Bennett insisted) a novel can reach greatness.