Demographic trends, and older people over 65 years disproportionately occupying beds in psychiatric hospitals, pointed to their increasing clinical needs. Clinical work with older people often required different skills from work with younger people. ‘General psychiatrists’, nominally working with adults of all ages, usually had little interest in working with older people. By 1977, it was clear to clinical leaders in the field of psychogeriatrics that official recognition of their specialty by the government was essential to ensure service development. Official recognition would provide the means to collect data to identify gaps in services, to obtain information on the implementation of government guidance and to advocate for resources, including ensuring high quality training posts for doctors wanting to specialise in the field. Doctors have traditionally taken the lead in creating new medical specialties, and psychogeriatrics was no exception. However, support fluctuated towards the specialty from the leadership of the Royal College of Psychiatrists. Health service leaders who did not undertake work with older people, were incredulous that others wished to do so. Negotiations between the Royal College of Psychiatrists and the Department of Health and Social Security about recognising psychogeriatrics were convoluted and prolonged. Recognition was achieved in 1989, following intervention by the Royal College of Physicians of London.

After losing the importance it had held around 1900 both as a colonial power and in the field of tropical medicine, Germany searched for a new place in international health care during decolonisation. Under the aegis of early government ‘development aid’, which started in 1956, medical academics from West German universities became involved in several Asian, African and South American countries. The example selected for closer study is the support for the national hygiene institute in Togo, a former German ‘model colony’ and now a stout ally of the West. Positioned between public health and scientific research, between ‘development aid’ and academia and between West German and West African interests, the project required multiple arrangements that are analysed for their impact on the co-operation between the two countries. In a country like Togo, where higher education had been neglected under colonial rule, having qualified national staff became the decisive factor for the project. While routine services soon worked well, research required more sustained ‘capacity building’ and did not lead to joint work on equal terms. In West Germany, the arrangement with the universities was a mutual benefit deal for government officials and medical academics. West German ‘development aid’ did not have to create permanent jobs at home for the consulting experts it needed; it improved its chances to find sufficiently qualified German staff to work abroad and it profited from the academic renown of its consultants. The medical scientists secured jobs and research opportunities for their postgraduates, received grants for foreign doctoral students, gained additional expertise and enjoyed international prestige. Independence from foreign politics was not an issue for most West German medical academics in the 1960s.

In its examination of American Medical Aid to Russia, this article shows how the best of intentions can have the potential to go horribly awry. It argues that the competing binary forces of international collaboration and goodwill versus political tensions and uncertainty combined to create an environment wherein actors and agents inhabited an ever changing and unpredictable international stage. Could American philanthropic organisations and individuals overcome political volatility, financial restrictions and ideological barriers? Just what would it take to establish an American hospital in Moscow, the Bolshevik seat of power? The attempt to establish the hospital proved to be an exercise in patience, persistence and prudence (although not always in equal measure). This article shows that international cooperation, while undoubtedly complicated, was certainly possible. The flow of information, materiel and personnel between the United States, Germany and Russia proved that good intentions, trust and a will to help others were valued. The history of American Medical Aid to Russia also demonstrates that the Quaker role of facilitator and interlocutor was vital in establishing a relationship of trust between Soviet Russia and the United States. This article discusses the difficulties that philanthropic organisations faced when navigating the choppy international waters of the early 1920s and highlights the rewards of successfully doing this. It argues that basic human relationships and trust were just as, if not sometimes more, important than ideology in determining the tenor of early US–Soviet relations.