Merry and bright

Since Mrs QO and I don't have children, and since we're fortunate enough to be close enough to walk to my sister's tomorrow to spend the day with the family, we haven't had too much to do today. Which is nice. There has been time to take the Aggravatingly Fit Elder Parent out for a beery lunch, to fit in an afternoon sleep, and to watch a soppy film tonight. And drink a little brandy.

And in a few days' time we will be heading into the north country to spend a week with Super-disreputable Friend and his appalling wife, with whom we've spent the last 25 New Years. And I fear that once again there will be far too much merriment and alcohol. An awful prospect, I'm sure you'll agree.

And so at two minutes till midnight (here on good old-fashioned Greeenwich Mean Time), I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, be blessed and peaceful, and all good things in the year to come.

Who really runs the world?

This is a question that many are asking in the light of the financial crisis. The 'Comment is Free' part of the Guardian website is particularly rich in speculation at the moment, with what seems to this Observer to be a preponderance of opinion in favour of a cartel of international financiers determined to bleed the ordinary working peasant dry so as to keep the financiers in private jets and yachts and other cool stuff.

My brain works at such a pace that I have to give it a couple of hours cooling-off time after lunch, and while preparing myself today for this inconvenient but necessary hiatus, settling into the old armchair in the study and pulling up the blanket, I dedicated the last 30 seconds or so of mental processing time to considering the question of who really runs the world. I hereby present the results.

In no particular order, let's ponder the chief candidates and award scores for likelihood.

1. God (singular, albeit in various flavours) – the obvious choice for many, but a moment's reflection questions the notion. A Creator capable of bringing into existence the Universe we see around us could not possibly do so bad a job of running just one tiny bit of it. For example, we know from various books written, translated and edited by men a long time ago that the Judeo-Christian God is perfect and omnipotent. However, a brief look at, say, Wolverhampton, suggests powerfully that there's no such divinity on the job. There is, though, an argument (also in the books written, translated and edited by men) that God is testing us through hardship to see what will happen. Wolverhampton is what has happened, so the theory is just barely tenable, and we will therefore, with a certain reluctance, put a positive score on this option: 3/10.

2. Gods (plural, various flavours, sizes and colour schemes) – Greek and Roman myths in particular offer a whole shedload of gods, mostly quarrelsome, arbitrary, illogical and downright unpredictable. They were known to favour some humans, pick on others, have fights with their sibling deities, sometimes even coming down to earth for a bit of trans-species naughty fun. In other words, just like us only more so (even the trans-species bit, but let's not drag the Welsh into it right now). This is indeed a tempting notion, but Occam's Razor says that if something like humans is running the world, the most likely candidate is humans. So despite having a rather rusty and blunt Occam's Razor, to diverse deities we award: 1/10.

3. A secret world organisation – well, as I said above, plenty of these are being suggested as candidates at the moment. Opus Dei, the Illuminati, Freemasons, the Bilderberg Group, SMERSH – take your pick. In every case, the secret organisation in question ('it is said... it is rumoured... some believe that...') meets from time to time, usually in a mountainous, remote region, and the members sit around smoking cigars, sipping expensive liquor, and making their fiendish plans to control all the world's money and keep everyone else working for a pittance to fund their insane plans for world domination. (Some of them are even said to stroke white long-haired cats while doing so, the evil bastards.) Now this idea really has some serious legs, though we do have to ask ourselves: 'If this bunch is running the world to make money which they want for themselves, how come they're doing such a crap job of it?' Presumably such a group would have to include top bankers, as they're the ones with their hands on the money at one point or another; if the world really is run by people like Sir Fred Goodwin, we might as bend over and kiss our arses goodbye, because we're seriously fucked. So I think we can discard this notion... excuse me a moment...

'Waiter! Another glass of the Hennessy Paradis Extra Rare Cognac, a hand-rolled Romeo y Julieta and a dish of caviare for Tiddles here. Oh, and pass the word... Goodwin is to be disposed of quietly by next Thursday. Off you go.'

So, as I was saying, we can put this ridiculous idea right out of our heads, not even worth considering. 0/10.

4. Aliens – well, David Icke thinks so, which is a very strong argument against. Still, it's a big universe, there may be another species out there coveting Wolverhampton and its lovely womenfolk. And I was brought up on Captain Scarlet fighting the Mysterons, and I'm not entirely convinced they've gone away, so let's give this one: 4/10.























5. Our elected representatives – ha ha ha ha! Yes, I know, quite unthinkable, but I wanted an excuse to post that pic, to be honest: 0/10.

6. Happenstance and natural selection – by far my favourite option. Every time we consider a candidate for an agency actually running the world, we bump into the problem of 'well, why is it so crap and random, then?' I suspect what we take for organisation is no more than an emergent property of chaos (much like me trying to tidy my desk every January), and that all our attempts to ascribe purposed direction of the world are no more than a comforting rationalisation in the face of something entirely out of our control (much like my desk for eleven months of the year). We are no more in charge of the world than the prawns are in charge of the Atlantic. We are not rational, logical beings, we do what we do out of ancient instincts, and what seems to work, mostly, at the time, for most people, is what tends to be carried forward. Okay, this doesn't really explain Wolverhampton, and I'm minded to leave that to David Icke, but it's got the rest of it sewn up: 9/10.

So there you have it. No big conspiracy, but no comforting 'well, at least someone's in charge even if I know it's not me' either. Frightening, or liberating? You choose. It won't matter what you choose, but go ahead anyway.

Workplace parking levy

For those who don't live in Nottingham — or those who do live in Nottingham but haven't been paying attention — the good folk at Nottingham City Council are bringing in a 'workplace parking levy'. All businesses within the City administrative boundary must register all the parking places they provide; those providing more than 10 (excluding those for Blue Badge holders) have to cough up an estimated £279 per place as of April Fools Day, 2012. I say 'estimated', as the council don't seem quite sure yet, but they do seem sure that it will rise fairly sharply thereafter. (No surprises there, then.) The proceeds from the levy, say the council, "...must be invested into improving local transport for Nottingham. The WPL will provide funding for NET Phase Two, the extensions to the existing tram system, as well the redevelopment of Nottingham Railway Station (the Hub project) and is also intended to support the popular Link bus network. "

The employer is the one who has to cough up, and there will — of course — be council monitoring and enforcement. The employer also has to decide whether or not to pass the levy on to the employees, in full or in part. That's going to be a tricky decision.

Commuters approaching Trent Bridge from south of the city, followed by a Nottm City Council parking levy enforcement officer



I'm fascinated by how this is going to play out. As I don't live or work within the City boundary, it's not going to cost me diddly-squat, but I'm very far from disinterested. I've blogged before about cities being for people, not cars, and being all for public transport. And we're going to have to face it some time soon — most of us won't be able to afford to run cars for any distance on a regular basis, so we might do well to start rebalancing our economy towards a model in which people tend to live closer to work than they do at the moment, and ensuring that good public transport is available for them. And we know from experience that people won't give up their car unless they're hit in the pocket. So as far as all that goes, the WPL looks like A Good Thing. And, moreover, the plan was clearly laid out before the last council elections, so there's a democratic mandate for it.

And yet... and yet... unemployment in Nottingham is severe, and the last thing the city needs is for businesses to decide to move elsewhere, or for potential new employers to decide not to come after all. A Nottingham business with 50 employees for whom parking is provided is looking at a new tax of £15,000 a year unless they pass it on to the employees; many depressed areas are offering significant financial incentives to employers to move into their areas, and perhaps in some cases the WPL will prove the last straw and provoke a move out of the city. That would not be A Good Thing at all.

I suspect that whether or not the WPL is seen as a success or a failure will depend on two factors. Firstly, the ability of local employers to pass on the levy to their employees. If they can do this in full, or substantially, then it becomes something of an administrative headache, but no more, and probably won't result in many decamping. In these times of high unemployment, with people fearful for their jobs, employers are probably well placed to pass on the levy. If so, all might be well from a business point of view, albeit a pain in the arse for the employees concerned.

The other big factor is what will other local authorities do? If everyone followed Nottingham's lead promptly, there evidently wouldn't be any incentive for employers to move out to escape the levy here. But I bet everyone else is waiting to see what happens with great interest, but will let Nottingham take the initial brunt of complaints, bad publicity, challenges in domestic and European courts, etc.

So to summarise: Nottingham City Council's move is certainly brave. Whether it's wise remains to be seen. Meanwhile, here's a few predictions.

• Businesses currently providing 10 parking spaces, and wanting to employ more people, will be paying far more attention to the 'address' bit on job applications. "Well, Ms Smith hasn't got quite the qualifications, but obviously she could get here on the bus..."

• There will be job opportunities at the Council for those who would enjoy spending their day waving their badges at people and taking photographs of who's parking where.

• The market in forged Blue Badges (which I happen to know is already healthy) is going to explode. It would be nice to think that the job market for genuine Blue Badge holders would improve, but let's not be silly.

Gloomy thoughts on a dark evening

Friday evening isn't the best time to do any sort of analysis of the state of the country. Too tired, one too many glasses of wine. But then this isn't the best blog in the world, so I'm just going to go for it, but don't you be expecting any sharp insights, OK?

It used to be the case that parents would cajole their children into staying with education, and more or less behaving themselves, by way of the promise of a good job if you stayed the course through school, and ideally go on to get your A-levels and perhaps even a degree. Hang on in there, they would say, and the good times will follow. You can get a car, a house, enough income to enjoy a good standard of living and money quietly going away into a pension fund that would grow substantially. A long-term deal which was demonstrably paying off for those parents, who'd followed exactly that course.

I have no idea of the average age of the three regular readers of this blog, but let's all imagine that we're in our teens or early 20s. What prospects do we see? That's right - sod all. While the Observer generation is now hitting a wall of unemployment, at least in most cases the deal paid off pretty well for 30 years, and early retirement is at least partially successful for many. But for the young?

You can, if you wish, take on a debt amounting to several tens of thousands of pounds to get a degree. When you finish, there will be enormous competition for a job, and graduates - complete with huge debt - may get work stacking shelves or training to serve burgers. Even the 'better' jobs will be in sectors very vulnerable to economic ups and downs, and difficult to build into a life-long career. Buying a house will be out of the question. Pension contributions will be terribly difficult to make, and will buy very little even over the long term.

And whose fault is all this? Mum & Dad, that's who. Or your Uncle Observer, or whatever other twat repeatedly voted for the politicians that allowed - encouraged - this country to rack up such enormous debts payable by the next generation.

"They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do."

I've no idea how this will play out. At the moment we see young people protesting against the establishment by way of pitching tents in public spaces and being touchingly earnest and well behaved. This is of course going to have zero effect on the establishment, other than a few meaningless resignations among the clergy, who don't, let's face it, have much impact on the running of the economy.

I suspect it may be that our young people eventually read up on how young French people did it in 1968, and then things will get a bit sweaty.

A modest proposal

For some time now, I've been looking at the lunacies of the world and thinking about how we might mitigate them somewhat.

You may have heard of the 17th century Witchfinder General? If not, have a quick refresher here.

I propose that we institute a new office of Bollocks-Finder General. A carefully selected body of men and women will be employed by we, the people, to wander round the country investigating anything that catches their eye. I have in mind the sort of people who you'd find as senior NCOs, old-style hospital matrons, experienced construction engineers, passenger liner captains and the like - the sort of people accustomed to taking on huge responsibilities, getting big things done and making life-and-death decisions. (But not, please note, so high in any corporate structure that they get too far up their own arse.) Where appropriate - and it will surely be often - they will cry: "Hang on, this is bollocks!"

Our Bollocks-Finders General will have rather extensive powers, much as you might expect senior military types to have in wartime. (Let's face it, the War against Terror is never going to be won, but we might make headway in the War against Bollocks.) They will be able to issue summary commands to all and sundry, backed up by civil and military authorities where required. They will have administrative and judicial powers, and may well be armed. There will be no appeal, other than by way of an outraged populace stringing them up if they get it wrong too often. I suspect that, on the contrary, they will be well loved by ordinary people, though hated by bureaucrats, corporate bandits, politicians and other lowlives.

Here are some examples of where the Bollocks-Finder General might usefully step in, along with the actions that might well be taken.

Imagine if we'd had a B-FG way back in 2002 when the Government announced the National Programme for IT for the NHS. This was, in theory, going to make patient records centrally available. There would, shortly after the announcement, have been an interview along these lines:

B-FG: "So exactly which doctors and hospitals have asked for this?"
Bureaucrat: "Ah... well, it's more of a government initiative."
B-FG: "So nobody who's looking after patients actually wants it?"
Bureaucrat: "Well, we're sure it will be jolly useful, and it won't cost more than £6.2 billion to have all the patient records in one place, accessible to all doctors and nurses everywhere."
B-FG: "So how often, exactly, would that be better than just picking up the telephone or sending an email? And how will it speed up patient care or save money?"
Bureaucrat: "Oh, well, we haven't looked into that in great detail... but it will be jolly good, we're quite sure..."
B-FG: "No. This is complete bollocks. You're fired. And so is whoever employed you."

See? That would have saved over £11 billion in the end.

Another example - the Millennium Dome.

Tony Blair: "So, we'll have this huge big tent and we'll fill it with all sorts of interesting stuff."
B-FG: "Like what?"
Tony Blair: "Erm... well, really interesting stuff. It'll be iconic."
B-FG: "So in other words you have no idea?"
Tony Blair: "Well, look, I think we should focus on the real point here..."
B-FG: "Bollocks. Not going to happen. Try and focus on not getting us into any more wars, eh?"

If only we'd had B-FGs here in Nottingham in the '60s. Imagine one of them wandering into the town planning meetings:

Town planners: "So, we're agreed. Get rid of the cobbled streets and Georgian buildings, and have a six-lane highway and lots of concrete high-rise buildings. That's what we'll do."
B-FG: "Will you bollocks. You're all fired."
Outraged Councillor: "You can't fire me - I was democratically elected!"
B-FG: "Good point. I'll just have to shoot you, then."

Think of the crass stupidity we could avoid. The Bollocks-Finders General would have plenty to say (and would probably use up a fair bit of ammunition) about such things as The X-Factor, Tescos in everybody's back garden, councils banning conker fights, CCTV on every streetlamp, Harriet Harman, alcopops, PCSOs, merchant bankers, travellers who don't, the European Agricultural Policy (and much else from Brussels), Graham Norton, the railways, wind turbines... the list is long.

You're probably thinking that I'd like to be a Bollocks-Finder General myself. Well, yes, I have to admit, I would, but I lack the self-control required. I'd shoot everyone instead of just firing them. A sense of perspective is required, after all.

Down on Dale Farm

I hesitate to comment on this, as I don't think I can add anything to the debate. But I need practice with this new Blogger system...

I will never take much satisfaction at the sight of riot police forcing people out of their homes. And I have a good deal of sympathy with the lot of the Roma. However, in the case of Dale Farm there has been, frankly, an awful lot of bollocks about "ethnic cleansing" and the like.

Fundamentally, it's quite simple. Even if you own a piece of land, you can't necessarily build on it. In the case of many of the Dale Farm plots now facing action, the land is owned by fairly wealthy absentee landlords from the Irish Travelling community. But it's Green Belt, and no planning permission has been granted for permanent buildings. Basildon Council are therefore entitled - in fact, obliged - to take action to clear illegal structures from the area. Those residents affected have been offered alternative accommodation, with some advantage over many already on the council housing waiting list, but have instead gambled on their media and legal campaign to see them through. That gamble has failed, and it was inevitable that the bailiffs and police would go in. And in my view it was right.

The whole point about a 'common law' is that it treats all people the same: without fear or favour, prejudice or ill-will. As soon as any minority is given special exemptions - because of their own chosen lifestyles - things break down very quickly. I could go on to discuss the distinction that might usefully be made between the Roma and the Irish Travellers, but that's a whole other can of worms which I feel too tired to open. To close, here's something that may reinforce some prejudices, or may cause some reappraisal. Either way, it's one of Ewan MacColl's finest songs, quite beautifully performed.

The challenge of change

Well, looky here. I take a little while out from blogging and come back to find lots of changes. Can't possibly work out what's going on after the red wine with supper, so the blog may look a little strange for a while. It may also look different from one minute to the next as I experiment with the new range of templates. When I say 'experiment' I do of course mean 'click on them at random and see what happens'. I'm sure we'll all settle down before long. In the meantime, here's just a few snapshots of what Mrs QO and I have been doing over the last few weeks.