Brand perception research for a hospice provider

A trusted care hospice only a few could name. We spoke with six stakeholder groups — patients, (bereaved) caregivers, staff, donors, volunteers, and the public — to show why the organisation was hard to know, and how to fix it.

ECG chart illustration with man holding the heart toward the flat line ECG chart illustration with man holding the heart toward the flat line

Consider what it means for a family at the hardest moment of its life to have someone arrive. A nurse who knows what to do. A number that answers at 3am. Care delivered at home, at no cost, so that the last weeks can be spent making memories rather than managing a crisis. For the people who had received this, there was nothing abstract about it. They spoke of fear that turned, slowly, into something closer to peace.

On the quality of that care, no one disagreed. Patients and caregivers described it with deep gratitude. The wider public who had encountered it held it in quiet regard. The staff who delivered it were proud to. Across every group we spoke to, the organisation was seen to do, faithfully, what it said it would do. The work was never in question.

“To see the whole picture, we listened from every side at once. Thirty-four in-depth interviews and 684 survey responses, across six groups — the patients and caregivers who lived it, the bereaved who had come out the other side, the staff who carried it, the donors and volunteers who sustained it, and the general public who might one day need it. An organisation like this looks different depending on where you stand, and we wanted all of those vantage points in the same study.”

What was in question was whether people knew the hospice.

Most people knew the organisation by its name, but no one knew its meaning. The organisation's own description of itself was accurate and quietly impressive, but it described its organisational scale rather than impact; which meant little to those receiving its care. Its long history, including its part in establishing hospice care in the country at all, went largely untold. An institution devoted to being present for people had been strangely difficult to know.

Beneath the awareness gap sat a deeper one. Hospice and palliative care were widely misunderstood — not only by the public, but by some healthcare professionals and even some of the organisation's own non-clinical staff. And misunderstanding here is not a marketing problem. When clinicians do not fully understand what hospice care offers, they refer patients late, and families arrive with less time than the care was built to give them. The cost of not being understood was measured in the one currency no one in this work can recover.

To see the whole picture, we listened from every side at once. Thirty-four in-depth interviews and 684 survey responses, across six groups — the patients and caregivers who lived it, the bereaved who had come out the other side, the staff who carried it, the donors and volunteers who sustained it, and the general public who might one day need it. An organisation like this looks different depending on where you stand, and we wanted all of those vantage points in the same study.

The staff rated the organisation more critically than anyone outside it did — across every dimension we measured. This was not a verdict on the care; everyone outside affirmed that. It was the signature of people who carry heavy work and feel its weight: the volume, the stretched resources, the quiet toll of being present for death, again and again. Read rightly, their lower scores were not a complaint about the mission but a measure of their devotion to it — and a clear signal of where the organisation most needed to look after its own. The people delivering the care were themselves part of the picture of care.

The problem was never the work, and it was never the values. It was the distance between the work and the words available to describe it — an organisation modest to the point of being hard to find, doing something most people only come to understand at the moment they need it most. Closing that distance was not a cosmetic exercise. Telling the history plainly, describing the care in human terms rather than in scale, reaching the clinicians whose referrals decide how much time a family gets, and tending to the well-being of the staff who hold all of it — these were not separate from the mission. Understanding, here, is how more people reach the care while there is still time to receive it.