Workers’ Memorial Day service – TUC, APPG Occupational Health and Safety
House of Commons, 28 April 2026
Speech by Professor Julia Waters
Today, on Workers’ Memorial Day, we remember those who have died because of work. We speak their names, we honour their lives, and we commit to preventing future deaths.
My sister’s name was Ruth Perry.
Ruth was a dedicated, experienced and much-loved headteacher. She led Caversham Primary School for well over a decade—not for status or recognition, but because she loved that school, its staff, and its children. Ruth believed in public service and the life-changing potential of education.
By every meaningful measure, Ruth was an exceptional school leader: respected by colleagues, trusted by parents, and loved by pupils. She was diligent, caring and quietly determined.
But on 8 January 2023 – 54 days after a brutal, flawed Ofsted inspection downgraded her school from ‘outstanding’ to ‘inadequate’ – Ruth took her own life.
The inquest into Ruth’s death reached a clear conclusion: Ruth died by suicide, contributed to by an Ofsted inspection. The coroner found a direct link between that inspection—its conduct, outcome and consequences—and Ruth’s mental health deterioration and death.
Ruth had no history of mental illness or depression. Prior to that inspection, Ruth had been happy, healthy and successful.
The following words, quoted at the inquest, came from a conversation Ruth had with a mental health professional just days after the inspection:
“This is the most untherapeutic and inhumane system, to have this on one person’s shoulders. I am amazed there are not more heads killing themselves… the shame, the pressure, the loss of income. Where do I go next? […] The Ofsted system has to change. It is totally wrong that one person is made to feel like this.”
Those words were a warning—one the coroner echoed in issuing a Prevention of Future Deaths report, stating there remains a risk of future deaths if meaningful change is not made.
Despite much tweaking and performative listening by Ofsted, that risk remains.
This year’s Workers’ Memorial Day theme—psychosocial risks—recognises the fact that, as in Ruth’s case, work can kill not only through physical injury or illness, but through psychological damage and despair.
Work-related deaths are not only accidents or diseases. They are also suicides—driven by extreme pressure, fear, humiliation, and a loss of hope.
Yet our systems are not designed to recognise, investigate, or prevent deaths by suicide in the same way as physical injuries.
One critical, systemic failing is that work-related suicides are not investigated by the Health and Safety Executive. They are treated as personal tragedies, rather than the result of workplace harms.
If Ruth had died in a fire at her school, there would have been a full health and safety investigation.
But because Ruth died by suicide, the system that led to her death continues to escape that kind of official scrutiny and is allowed to carry on regardless.
At least ten teachers before Ruth are thought to have died by suicide linked to an Ofsted inspection. But none of their deaths – or the potential common factors contributing to them – has been recorded or investigated by the HSE.
I can’t help but wonder: if just one of these work-related suicides had been investigated and corrective action taken, might Ruth still be here today?
A second systemic failing lies in what happens after inquests. Coroners can issue Prevention of Future Deaths reports, but there is no National Oversight Mechanism to ensure their recommendations are implemented.
While organisations are obliged to respond, their responses are often dismissive, insufficient or quietly abandoned. Too often, bereaved families are left to push for change themselves, against considerable institutional resistance, reliving trauma in the process.
A third systemic failure, which we experienced in the aftermath of Ruth’s death, is the misuse of suicide reporting guidelines – such as those developed by the Samaritans – not to protect people, but to shut down legitimate discussion.
These guidelines are vital. They exist to prevent harm. Yet they can too easily be distorted to avoid scrutiny, deflect criticism, perpetuate false narratives, or silence those speaking out about systemic causes of suicide.
Talking responsibly and openly about suicide—and its causes—can save lives.
What is harmful is silence, defensiveness, and failure to act.
Across these failings runs a common thread: systems that are far more comfortable addressing physical risks than psychological ones; far more willing to individualise harm than to confront systemic, institutional failings and responsibilities.
So what needs to change?
We need recognition: recognition that suicide can be work-related, and that psychosocial risks must be treated as seriously as physical ones.
We need investigation: work-related suicides should be examined with the same rigour as other workplace deaths.
We need accountability: a National Oversight Mechanism is needed to ensure that lessons from inquests and inquiries lead to real change.
We need honesty: we must be able to talk openly and responsibly about suicide and its causes, without fear of being silenced or attacked.
And finally, we need action: institutions must be willing to confront their own failings and implement meaningful reform.
Because behind every statistic is a person.
A sister. A daughter. A wife. A mother. A colleague. A friend.
Ruth was all of these things. Ruth was a lovely human being, destroyed by an inhumane system. And Ruth should still be here.
So today, as we remember those who have died because of work, let us commit to creating workplaces that protect not only physical safety, but also human dignity and mental wellbeing.
If we fail to act on what Ruth’s preventable death has revealed, it will happen again.
Thank you.
See SUICIDE CRISIS | Action call as more than one in 10 suicides is linked to work Hazards, number 171/172 double issue, spring 2026
