The Downfall of the JCCP

Dearest Practitioners,

It appears the theatre curtains are finally closing on the Joint Council for Cosmetic Practitioners, a name so grand it's almost ironic, considering it was never really a council for cosmetic practitioners at all.

As the JCCP Board of Trustees met on 18 September 2025, the minutes quietly revealed what we've all suspected:

"Succession planning in leadership."

The politest phrase in the bureaucratic dictionary for "pack your bags before the Charity Commission does it for you."

The Charity Commission has reportedly issued not one, but four separate reports. For context, one report means “you're being watched." Four means “we're bringing the clipboard, the audit trail, and possibly a locksmith."

So now we find "succession planning," "trustee appraisals," and "renewal cycles" in the minutes, the choreography of a very British downfall.

Expect the headline act, David Sines, to "retire" gracefully into an "advisory role." Translation: the polite fade-out before the encore of accountability.

The JCCP's foundations were never built for the public good; they were built for an agenda they didn't want you to catch wind of.

Eddie Hooker, notable for simultaneously funding, insuring, and governing the register, conveniently skipped that September meeting. So did Victor Ktorakis, the notorious licensing officer whose supposed mission to support businesses somehow got lost between power points and policy papers.

It was a closed-loop market capture, designed to feed a small circle while preaching "public safety." The register, the funding, the governance, all under one umbrella, held by the same few hands.

Efficient? Yes. Ethical? You decide.

When a charity becomes a fiefdom, the Charity Commission eventually notices. And they did.

Now, the JCCP must rebrand, restructure, and replace leadership before February 2026. It's a last-minute makeover, less about reform, more about survival.

Over the next few months, you'll hear words like "inclusivity" and "innovation" echoing through their press releases, freshly ironed virtue buzzwords, pressed and ready for a re-launch.

The story was never about medics against non-medics. Among the most disappointed were the graceful clinicians, those who entered aesthetics with care in their hands, only to find themselves equally disenchanted by the JCCP's theatre of control.

They, too, grew weary of hearing "public safety" recited like scripture while genuine unity and safety were discreetly removed from the dialogue.

In truth, the discontent ran deeper than titles. Whether by scalpel or syringe, the intention was always the same: to restore, to protect, to do good work. And in that, there is far more that unites us than divides us.

Have you noticed? The usual medical trolls, the ones who spent years policing every syringe on social media, have gone suspiciously quiet. It's funny how the loudest voices fall silent when the spotlight tilts.

Remember this: the NMC, the GMC, and so on are all charities. When they step out of line, the same rules apply. The Charity Commission is the adult in the room, clipboard and all.

So, dearest practitioners, pour yourself a coffee and watch the next act unfold.

The JCCP's stage lights are dimming, the actors are changing, and February 2026 will bring a whole new script.

Until then, keep your needles sharp and your observations sharper.

Yours faithfully,

The Injector's Quill