A whistleblower is a) a lonely champion of truth and reform within closed societies; b) a treacherous team member who betrays colleagues’ trust; c) an extraordinarily complex blend of those options. Which is why last week’s report from Sir Robert Francis QC, chief interrogator of the horror in Mid-Staffordshire NHS trust, is long on denunciation of how the NHS treats whistleblowers within its ranks – the bullying, the threats, the rants, the deep career freezes – but rather shorter on policy answers.

What happens to health’s whistleblowers can be “shocking”, a tabloid word here used with serious force. Francis knows there’s a corrosive problem of fear. He wants an independent whistleblowing “guardian” designated in every trust, with a national independent officer on top of the network, ready to intervene, rule and deter. That, plus better training and some legal amendments, make the Francis package. But will it cheer those doctors and nurses who saw their lives ruined because they spoke out? Will it blow away future fear? No one can feel confident about that. This may be the best Francis can do, but it won’t – perhaps can’t – be good enough.

Who chooses, pays and supports the new guardians? Where are the investigative-cum-legal resources to decide which whistles are conclusively blown? And can a national superintendent – another retired QC or judge – provide the stalwart backing that lone whistleblowers need? And, of course, the NHS is not alone in the secrecy stakes. There’s education, prison regimes, army life, City bullying and much more. There’s the difficulty of permitting police to have any contact with journalists post-Leveson. There are ongoing trials, with whistleblowers in the dock. There is Edward Snowden.

Freedom of information, to publish and damn, is the greatest reassurance whistleblowers can hope for: freedom to name, shame and sack bullies. There’s the change of culture Francis seeks.