Many people tell me that their biggest fears are feeling unseen, unheard or isolated as their health changes. Digital tools that allow symptoms to be logged easily, link people to trusted information, and give clinicians timely insight can help people feel more in control and better supported — especially when physical visits are limited. Early evidence suggests that such systems may help clinicians respond more quickly when support is needed most, and that it can reduce unnecessary unplanned admissions to hospital.

Yet there is something quietly jarring about placing the words digital and comfort side by side — one evokes circuitry and screens, the other warmth and human presence — and that tension deserves our attention.

However — and this is important — innovation should not come at the expense of presence.

We know that NHS services across the country are under significant pressure. Workforce shortages, rising demand, and a growing focus on digital transformation are reshaping how care is delivered. National plans aim to make healthcare more accessible through apps, shared records and remote tools, with digital approaches expected to reduce strain on frontline services.

Yet, for many people nearing the end of life, the human contact — the listening, the touch, the face‑to‑face conversation — matters in ways that technology simply can’t replicate. Digital systems can help relay symptom information or provide guidance, but they cannot sit beside someone as they take their last breaths, offer a reassuring presence, or share a cup of tea with a family in distress.

There is also an important question around digital inclusion. Although the NHS recognises the need to support people to use digital tools, there remains a significant divide: millions of people lack basic digital skills, don’t use smartphones or tablets, or simply prefer human interaction over apps. This is particularly true for older adults, those in socio‑economically deprived communities, or people with sensory and cognitive difficulties.

For some, remote monitoring feels empowering. For others, it can feel like yet another barrier between them and the care they want — especially when face‑to‑face home visits are harder to access than they once were.

So, yes, I welcome initiatives like the Digital Comfort Tracker. I appreciate the thoughtful design and the volunteer efforts that will help people feel heard and connected. What I hope for even more is that digital innovation complements, rather than replaces, the deeply human aspects of care.

In a climate where NHS services are stretched and technology is often positioned as the answer to workforce pressures, we must be careful not to lose sight of what matters most: being with people at the end of life, listening to their stories, holding their hands, and walking alongside them and their families.

Technology should be a tool, not a substitute for care.