The case of the nurse Lucy Letby, who was convicted of the mass murder of seven babies, and six cases of attempted murder at the Countess of Chester hospital in England, is sad and unspeakable. Distressing hardly covers it. Yet the tragedy itself and the coverage of it has revealed a great deal about our confused post-Christian society.

The inconsistency of our society's views on human life

Brendan O'Neill, in a profound and fascinating article in the online magazine Spiked, spoke of Letby's "calmness as she poisoned the feeblest individuals in society: frail babies on a neonatal ward." But he was wrong. Those babies are not the feeblest individuals in society. The babies in the womb are. And the same society that would rightly condemn a nurse for killing a baby born at 23 weeks, regards it as a human right for a mother to kill her own baby at that age.

A timeline of her crimes in the Guardian newspaper reveals that several of the babies were born prematurely – especially Child G.

"The most premature of all babies in the case, Child G was born 15 weeks early and weighed just over 450g (1lb). Letby tries to kill her three times over three weeks, the first time on the day of her 100th day alive. Child G, now eight, is severely disabled as a result of the attacks."

On the one hand we are outraged that a nurse attempted to kill a 23-week-old baby, but on the other hand, when Carla Foster was sentenced to jail for killing her 34-week-old baby, our progressives were outraged that she should be punished at all! Abortion has become such a secular sacrament that to point out this inconsistency is almost regarded as blasphemy in our 'progressive' society.

Spiked regularly publishes articles advocating abortion, including "the case for late abortion", "late abortion and the fallacy of foetal pain"; "a moral defence of late abortion" and "We need to decriminalise abortion once and for all". The latter article is subtitled "there should be no limit on a woman's right to choose". No limit?! Ann Furedi, the author of several of these articles, was formerly the chief executive for the British Pregnancy Advisory Service, the UK's largest independent abortion provider. Ironically for a magazine which prides itself on allowing different points of view, Spiked never allows the alternative point of view on abortion.

The problem when the reputation of organisations takes precedence over humans

There had been warnings about Letby by doctors and others who were concerned, but these were just dismissed. In fact, more than dismissed. The doctors were required by the CEO of the hospital, Tony Chambers, to sign a letter of apology to her. This letter stated "'Dear Lucy, we would like to apologise for any inappropriate comments that may have been made during this difficult period" ... "We are very sorry" for your "stress and upset". Two of the doctors were ordered to attend a mediation session with her. Two of the consultant paediatricians at the hospital have alleged that the hospital refused to contact the police because they were concerned about the hospital's reputation if it became a crime scene.

This is what happens when the organisational machine, concerned with productivity and reputation, overrides basic humanity. When Labour MSP Jackie Baillie tweeted, "There are parallels between the #LucyLetby case and the QEUH in Glasgow. Health bosses being more concerned about the reputation of the hospital than the lives of patients is simply wrong. Lessons need to be learned," she was met with outrage and called "evil" for making the comparison. But she was surely right? Baillie was not comparing the murder of the babies with the deaths caused by mismanagement, as though they were moral equivalents. But she was rightly pointing out that managerial inconsistencies, caused by those who were more concerned about reputations and targets, were responsible for people dying.

Let me share a small personal example of the dangers of that bureaucratic legalese. At one time I was in hospital and was 'fitting' (rigoring) on the bed with an extreme temperature. There was a student nurse sitting beside me calmly filling out a form. The other patients in the ward tried to get her attention – although she could clearly see what was going on. Eventually a doctor came over and started to treat me. Why did that nurse do nothing? Because she had been told to fill out a form and that was her job. She forgot that her primary duty of care was to her patient, not to the one task that she had been given.

The problem of evil

The Guardian timeline tells us of Child I.

"Murder of Child I 23 October 2015: A murder described in court as 'persistent, calculated and cold-blooded', Letby kills Child I on her fourth attempt after inserting air into the baby girl's stomach. The nurse later sent a sympathy card to Child I's parents on the day of her funeral."

How can this be described as anything other than evil? Letby seemed to recognise this. She wrote on a note in her house, "I am evil, I did this." But how do we deal with such evil?

Brendan O'Neill cites the atheist philosopher Terry Eagleton: "Evil has a 'natural affinity with the bureaucratic mind ... Flaws, loose ends and rough approximations are what evil cannot endure. Goodness, by contrast, is in love with the dappled, unfinished nature of things."

It's a neat observation. But it does not tell us how to deliver us from evil. Nor how to deal with the evil that each of us has in our own hearts. Our confused society can hardly define evil, let alone deal with it. The only answer to the problem of evil is the beauty, love and atoning sacrifice of Christ.