Linda Hart: You have given many lectures during the past year about “the moral state we’re in”– the title of your recent book. What made you write it?  
Julia Neuberger: Stories about how we treat the most vulnerable people in society were in the headlines every day. So I wanted to look at what was happening – to the elderly, the mentally ill, children in care, offenders and asylum seekers. After all, this is one way of judging how civilised a society we are.

LH: What did you discover?
JN: Far too often, the excessive rules and regulations of the welfare state inhibit our natural instincts to help and care for one another. When I heard that some WIs in Essex had been prohibited from baking cakes for elderly patients I thought: “That sums up everything in The Moral State We’re In.” Well-meant regulations aimed at avoiding risks often get in the way. Individuals with the time and inclination to help others are made to feel unwanted. Little by little we become less compassionate.

LH: Have you always been concerned about justice and injustice, about the ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ of the society around you?
JN: I was brought up to believe in the importance of justice and compassion. It just seemed natural, when I was growing up, to want to create a better society. In my late teens I supported the Equal Pay Act for women, and at Cambridge I campaigned to get men into Newnham College.

In the 1970s people increasingly realised that women had been badly treated over the years. We were searching for ways to remedy this. Being a rabbi attracted me because of the opportunities for providing pastoral care.

LH: You were only 27 when you became the first female rabbi in the world with your own congregation. That must have been daunting. Did you feel under special pressure, as a woman, to be a success?
JN: I was the only full-time paid employee at the South London Liberal Synagogue, with all the pastoral and administrative responsibilities. I also worked hard to develop links with other faith and community groups, especially in the aftermath of the 1981 Brixton riots. I felt I had to make a pretty good fist of it as a female rabbi, in order to make it easier for the next lot.
 
LH: Two years after becoming a rabbi you had a daughter, two years after that a son, and two years after that you ran for Parliament. How did you cope with everything?
JN: It was all very challenging and terrifying, but you do cope, don’t you? You just get on and do it. I think that’s how women deal with anything difficult. I did have help looking after the children, and couldn’t have managed without that. When the Social Democratic Party (SDP) was founded in 1981, I was one of its first supporters. We wanted to find ways to combine social justice with economic efficiency.

This is now the dominant idea in British politics, but it was new then. The SDP, with Shirley Williams as a founder, encouraged women to become politicians. I served on various SDP committees, so the next logical step was to stand for Parliament. I got about 8,000 votes, which was perfectly respectable, and didn’t lose my deposit.

LH: In 1989 you became a full-time Visiting Fellow at the King’s Fund Institute in London. How did that happen?
JN: After 12 years at the synagogue, I was beginning to recycle sermons. And there were other things I wanted to do. The King’s Fund is an independent charity that works to improve health care. I was especially interested in the ethical issues surrounding medical research. I looked at the methods and criteria for recruiting people into research programmes for testing new drugs, including those for breast cancer.

LH: From 1991 to 1995 you were a member of the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority. So you were continuing to think about ethical issues affecting women?   
JN: I was interested in surrogacy at that time. People were hostile to the idea of surrogate mothers, particularly if they were paid. But once you say that assisted reproduction is ethical, you have to think about all the subsequent questions that are raised. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.

Mary Warnock had chaired an inquiry into human embryo research and assisted reproduction. Then, when an official Authority was created, we tried to tease out the issues that had been raised, and to be fair to all the different parties involved.
 
LH: While you were on this committee, you were asked to chair the Camden and Islington Community Health Services NHS Trust – another big challenge.
JN: It was a huge job, usually taking four days a week. This was the largest community trust at the time, responsible for mental health services, physiotherapy, occupational therapy, podiatry, school and district nurses. There were 2,700 staff located on 104 sites. I set up a network comprising all the Community Trust chairmen in inner London, to share ideas and discuss common problems. We learned a lot from one another, and this enabled us to play a more significant role in London’s NHS.

LH: What was your contribution to the Medical Research Council (MRC), during your five-year membership at the end of the 1990s?
JN: The MRC promotes research into medical science to improve the nation’s health. They like to have some non-scientists on the council, so I fit the bill there. And I’d dealt with various medical issues as a layman. While I was on the MRC we worked to produce clearer and more consistent guidelines when people consent to take
part in medical research projects.