Jeremy Hunt increases NHS winter fund

Saw this article today. Apparently there's to be a 75% increase in the NHS winter fund, compared with last year.
There must be a General Election coming up.

Oh! What a Lovely Ad... not

Yesterday at work my colleagues began talking about a new Christmas advert which had apparently just been released by Sainsbury's. Those who had seen it spoke in glowing terms about how very moving they had found it. Apparently it depicts the Christmas truce of 1914 when German and British soldiers came warily out of the trenches and met in no-man's-land to exchange greetings and play football together before being forced back into the trenches by the Generals. One of my colleagus asked me if I wanted to watch the advert on her i-tablet thingy. 'No thanks', I said, 'I don't watch adverts'.
'Neither do I, normally', she replied. 'But this one is different. It's just really... nice.'
I started to explain that in my opinion there is nothing 'nice' about a giant supermarket chain taking advantage of the current surge of emotion around the First World War centenary and remembrance events in order to boost their own profits. But before I had finished my first sentence my colleague cut in and told me, very sharply and in no uncertain terms, that she was not interested in my opinion. Apparently I had not shown the appropriate level of sentiment towards the advert in question and so my colleague felt justified in speaking to me as if I'd just disrespected her mother.
The more I thought about the idea of this commercial, the more offensive I found it. In the past week we have, as a nation, along with many other nations, been paying our respects to those who gave their lives in the wars of this, and the last, century. In particular we have remembered those who fell in World War 1, this being the centenary of the outbreak of that conflagration. And some clever advertising executive, seeing the mood of affection, sorrow and heartfelt gratitude that has swept the country and reached its peak in the past week with the remembrance ceremonies, must have thought to him/herself how great it would be to harness some of that raw emotion and channel it into brand recognition (or rather, positive brand-association) - and, hence, bigger profits - for his/her client and it's shareholders.
Because let's be clear; the purpose of this film is to encourage people to buy more groceries and to buy them at Sainsbury's. If the advert is as slick and we'll made as everyone is saying, it will have cost a fortune to make and Sainsbury's would not be throwing that kind of money away unless they were pretty sure of reaping rewards for their shareholders.
This morning, as on most weekday mornings, I lisened to the James O'Brien show on LBC radio. The presenter had apparently watched the ad last night and been deeply moved. Then this morning he had read an article in the Guardian (probably this one whose author had apparently experienced a similar uneasiness on watching the advert to that which I had on hearing about it. Mr O'Brien disagreed with the artcle and defended Sainsbury's by saying that the advert was promoting a chocolate bar, the proceeds from the sales of which would be donated to the Royal British Legion and not retained by Sainsbury's. Considering he used to work in retail, one would have thought he would understand the concept of a 'loss leader'. Sainsbury's as a brand will benefit enormously by piggy-backing on the depth of public feeling around the tragic events of 1914-18. Nevertheless, caller after caller to the show enthused about the advert and how beautiful and poignant they had found it. One caller even said that, as an employee of Sainsbury's, she was really proud of the advert and of her employer's commitment to 'humanitarianism and human equality'. The presenter repeatedly stated that the advert provided a timely reminder of the futility of war and of the similarity of the combatants on either side. Yet when the Christmas truce incident actually occured, the Generals on both sides forced the soldiers to return to their trenches and continue the fight. The Generals were, of course, only doing the bidding of their bosses, the politicians. And many would argue that the politicians, then as now, were only acting in the interests of their paymasters, the captains of industry and leading capitalists of their day - the early 20th Century equivalents of Sainsbury's and its shareholders.
Most of us, whether we know it or not, have some ancestor or relative who went through the hell of World War One and lost friends, loved ones or even their own lives. To have the memory of their sacrifice cynically exploited to boost the coffers of one of the biggest corporations in the country is frankly, to my mind, an insult.

Michael (a rhymography)

The following poem is not intended as an endorsement of the actions of those portrayed. I deplore violence and this post was motivated by historical, not polemical, interest in Ireland's past.

14/10/14

Many long years ago by the star-speckled light / Of a West Cork sky on an October night / A fine Irish mother gave birth to a son / Who would grow up no stranger to the sound of a gun

His five older sisters took care of him well / While his mother milked cows and churned butter to sell / And as soon as young Michael was able to stand / He'd be off with his father at work on the land

The old man would tell him of days long ago / When brave Irish soldiers resisted the foe / Of brutal repression, of cruel punishments / Of absentee landlords, extortionate rents

Listening to his father with love and with pride / Young Michael knew somehow, deep down inside / (Though for reasons he couldn't yet quite understand) / That some day he'd be called on to fight for his land

At the age of sixteen, with tears in his eyes / To his dearly loved family he said his goodbyes / And like many young Irish folk of his age / He headed for England in search of a wage

He stayed with his sister in old London town / The hub of the Empire, the seat of the Crown / In a GPO office he learned to keep books / (And many young girls there admired his looks)

At weekends he'd gather with other young men / To play Gaelic football and hurling and then / He'd be out on the town, enjoying the craic / A drink and a joke and a slap on the back

The occasional row (rarely coming to blows) / And Michael could often be found with his nose / Deep in a book, for he longed to discover / the ways of the land that he loved like no other

Its language, it's history, its heroes and kings / Its writers and poets, all manner of things / From the terrible famine that ravaged the land / To risings that never quite went off as planned

Then one day after work he's approached by a friend / I'm off to a meeting, would you like to attend? / You mustn't tell anyone, that's understood / But we'd like you to join our secret brotherhood

It's your solemn duty / We hope you'll agree / To work for the day when our land will be free / From rule by the English, their laws and their King / Pretty soon Michael was proudly sworn in

War came to Europe in nineteen-fourteen / 'Twas the bloodiest conflict that had ever been seen / But Michael refused to sign up for the war / There was only one country that he would fight for

So in nineteen-sixteen when conscription was planned / He boarded a ship back to his native land / Where once more he practised the book-keeper's art / This time for Count Plunkett, a wealthy upstart

The house of the Count stood on acres of land / Where an audacious rising was practised and planned / And in Dublin's post office that Easter weekend / Alongside his comrades, their dream to defend

While civilians hid in their homes, out of fright / As the rattle of Mauser-fire filled the spring night / Michael fought, while the smoke and flames rose on the breeze / 'Til the big British guns brought his men to their knees

The shame of surrender, the long year in gaol / But the freedom of Ireland was Mick's holy grail / He refused to be cowed by the pain of his plight / And when he got out he continued the fight

He'd joined a party that was known as Sinn Féin / An Irish republic was their stated aim / They were gaining support from all over the land / in spite of the fact that their meetings were banned

Then one day De Valera, who was Sinn Féin's top man / Was carted away in a police van / And thrown in an English jail to rot / For (alleged) involvement in a German plot

When the Great War was over, with peace in the land / An election for Britain and Ireland was planned / Michael decided to stand for Sinn Féin / He campaigned in South Cork until the day came

By their hundreds and thousands the people came out / To support independence, there was no room for doubt / So Sinn Féin decided, with so clear a mandate / That Irish MPs should decide Ireland's fate

We won't go London to take up our seats / As a national assembly in Dublin we'll meet / So with public support from Rosslare to the Foyle / They shunned Westminster's halls and they formed the first Dáil

For a national government it might seem strange / But their meetings in secret they had to arrange / The locations were usually chosen by Mick / For he knew who to trust and which places to pick

This was the cat and mouse game that they played / Always alert for the next police raid / And as head of finance Mick worked many a long hour / Raising the cash they would need to take power

De Valera, in prison, soon thought of a way / With the help of the Chaplain to shorten his stay / He'd 'borrowed' the key from the robe of the latter / (Whom his friends had distracted with 'spiritual' chatter)

Using wax from church candles 'Dev' made an imprint / Which he sent back to Ireland, where Mick took the hint / A copy was made of the Lincoln Gaol key / And Mick boarded a ferry to cross the cold sea

Under cover of darkness Mick cut through the wire fence / Then clambered through into the courtyard, from whence / He crept stealthily up to the door of the gaol / He had only one chance, he knew he must not fail

Imagine the cursing, the swearing, the shock / When Mick's carefully cut key simply broke in the lock / But Dev too had a key (smuggled in in a cake) / He inserted it - thankfully it didn't break

So away down the street the escapee was led / Disguised as a woman, a wig on his head / Then off in a taxi to Liverpool's port / And back home to Ireland without being caught

Now, at this point Dev felt the need for a pause / He went off to drum up support for the cause / While the 'Chief' was away across the Atlantic / The fight with the British was left to young Mick

Dublin Castle was the place / That the Dublin police force used as their base/ And the G Division (who worked undercover) / Were the boys whose job it was to discover

Every bit of information / About Mick and his rebel operation / Their shady network did comprise / Of double-agents, informants and spies

To find out just how much they knew / Mick paid a visit to British HQ / A friend on the inside showed him around / He was horrified at what he found

The Brits had files on all his men / Mick had a realisation then / The 'intelligence war' would be the key / To an Irish republican victory

Back at base Mick gave the nod / To his best group of men (they were known as 'the Squad') / And in the Castle post next morning / Was received a letter (by way of a warning)

Written, it was clear, in Michael's hand / It said that an early demise was planned / For any 'G Man' who did not stay away / From the business of the IRA

I'm afraid that this warning they chose to ignore / And for each one there soon came a knock at the door / Or a tap on the shoulder while out in the street / The crack of a gunshot then hurrying feet

In the crowd the assassins would soon disappear / As the streets were increasingly haunted by fear / The British hit back with their own murder gangs / Known as the 'Auxies' and the 'Black and Tans'

A new Special Branch group known as the Cairo Gang / Were sent in by the British as part of their plan / To destroy Michael's network and his power to fight / - Mick's 'Squad' took the lot of them out in one night

Next day in their anger a convoy of Tans / Headed to Croke Park where five-thousand fans / Were hoping the afternoon match would be good / - The Tans shot fourteen of them dead where they stood

Such a dark time for Ireland (and Britain as well) / As the streets and the fields became bloody as Hell / As police trucks were ambushed in town after town / The Tans plundered Cork City then burned the place down

In nineteen-twenty on Christmas Eve night / De Valera returned to take charge of the fight / And for the first time in his rebel career / Michael went out and drank far too much beer

Into the bar came a British patrol / To capture some 'shinners' their primary goal / One asked for Mick's papers then told him to stand / Compared him to a photo he held in his hand

Though Mick and his comrades would all soon be dead / Unless he held his nerve and maintained a cool head / He smiled and he joked and he played the buffoon / 'Til the squaddies gave up and they left the saloon

DeValera was eager to take charge again / He began hatching plans for Mick and his men / And the Chief was less than overjoyed / With the fighting methods Mick had employed

There's no honour in fighting an underground war / Of this point DeValera was sure / No need to keep our troops concealed / We'll meet the British in the field

A full-scale daylight attack was planned / Mick tried to make Dev understand / He didn't have the men to spare / For open, conventional warfare

(Work in progress)

Papers please

On Radio 4's Any Questions today, the matter of Government owned vans driving through areas with high levels of recent immigration, displaying messages designed to encourage illegal immigrants to return voluntarily to their countries of origin, was discussed. The vans are bearing posters with the following message on: "In this country illegally? Go home or face arrest." The questioner in the radio show audience compared this message to 1970s style racist graffiti. Some of the panel, such as Independent journalist Owen Jones, agreed, although former Tory Home Office minister Michael Howard expressed the view that to be against illegal immigration did not necessarily make one a racist.
The use of these vans is clearly a stunt on the part of the Conservative Party, aimed at impressing the Daily Mail reading, potential UKIP voting demographic.
However, another aspect of this populist PR campaign which was not even mentioned on Any Questions was the action taken by police at various railway and tube stations throughout London over the last few days, to stop passers by and ask them to produce identification to show they were legally entitled to be in the country. Even where this has been covered on TV and radio news programmes, the main disapproval expressed by commentators has been of the fact that the police have been focussing their attention on non-white members of the public. But while this racial profiling is obviously a very great cause for concern in itself, another worrying aspect is the fact that the police apparently now feel comfortable to stop ordinary law abiding citizens going about their daily business and ask them to produce identification papers. This is something that has always been anathema to the British way of thinking about the role of police; indeed, when the last Labour government attempted to bring in ID cards, they could not even get enough support within their own parliamentary party to get the bill through parliament.
I'm not sure how many of those that the police pulled aside to ask for ID actually obliged them by producing their passports, driving licences, immigration papers or whatever else was being asked for. They were all fully entitled to simply refuse and walk away, and unless the police had sufficient reason to suspect them of an offense, there would have been nothing the police could do to stop them. If people now believe that they are obliged to provide evidence of their right to be on the streets any time some over zealous copper decides they don't look British enough, that is perhaps the most worrying aspect of this whole sorry affair.

Why I don't like the EU

The following is an excerpt from an email I sent today, expressing my concerns about the threat to the sovereignty of the Westminster parliament, the elected representatives of the people of the United Kingdom, posed by our membership of the EU. The email was addressed to a radio phone-in show presenter who had claimed that everyone who called his show to express opposition to EU membership did so on the basis of a fear or dislike of foreigners:

I would describe myself as being against the EU and my reasons are, I think, entirely devoid of any xenophobic basis. The undemocratic nature of that institution is my only ground for opposition. There are two main reasons for my objection to the UK's membership of the European Union: the first (and lesser of the two) is the sheer size of the institution. In a democracy, the amount of power held by each member of the electorate is, obviously, inversely proportionate to the size of the electorate. The number of people that need to agree with me, if I am to succeed in getting my views represented at government level, increases by an order of magnitude when the government in question is a continent-wide one. Of course, one could argue that this disadvantage is outweighed by the increase in the power and reach of government. A Europe-wide government is able to exert far more control and to wield far more influence in the world than a mere national one. But then, one could counter this argument by citing the increase in inefficiency that inevitably comes with an increase in size and scale.
The second reason for my objection to UK membership of the EU is, in my view, by far the more salient one. It is to do with the huge diversity of native languages spoken by EU citizens. There is no unified language for the EU and, consequently, neither is there a coherent public debate about the issues on which the EU legislates and over which its policies hold sway. Debates take place within individual countries about these issues but, as a rule, if I write an article or a blog post espousing a particular political viewpoint, or if you run a campaign to try and publicise a political issue, our efforts to try and persuade our fellow citizens as to the rightness of our respective causes are unlikely to have any significant effect outside of the UK. This is even more true for citizens of countries that speak less widely understood languages than English. An individual, a political party, a pressure group or campaigning organisation in, say, Slovenia, has little chance of making an impact on the majority of the EU electorate (an impact which would then be reflected in the voting decisions of that electorate) because of the language barrier. You may feel that I am exaggerating the extent of the insularity of social and political debate within European nations, but I don't believe so. How often do you read an article, watch a TV show, listen to a radio programme or even read a blog post written in a language other than English, even in translation? Even with the translation technology available today (eg. Google Translate), there simply isn't the degree of mutual comprehension to enable the kind of trans-continental public conversation and debate which should underpin a viable and democratically healthy electorate.
The effect of this inability of the citizens of Europe to have a coherent debate on the social and political issues that affect them is that power is devolved away from the ordinary citizens, each one of whom lacks the linguistic means to persuade significant numbers to support his or her viewpoint on any particular issue, and into the hands of the political elite gathered in the debating chambers of Brussels and Strasbourg and their associated institutions. Hence the European Union is characterised by a 'top-down' style of governance, and this situation persists in spite of all attempts to enhance the level of democratic accountability of its institutions. Democracy should be a 'bottom up' affair in which the legitimacy of government arises from the prior deliberations of those who are governed. Without a linguistic basis for such electorate-wide deliberations, the legitimacy of the entire European Union project is, in my view, at the very least, questionable.
I have heard you on several occasions asking anti-EU callers to your radio show to explain just which EU laws are causing them such consternation. When they have difficulty in coming up with any dramatic examples of Brussels-inspired oppression, you triumphantly point out that they are actually getting themselves unneccessarily worked up over something that really doesn't matter that much since, after all, it only affects such unimportant things as post-office privatisation and the number of weekly domestic refuse collections. This is, in my opinion, extremely unfair and short-sighted. Imagine if we lived under a relatively benevolent dictatorship, one which, say, respected human rights, didn't over-tax us and didn't lead us into unneccessary wars. Would you take the view that anyone campaigning for the right to freely elect our own leader was some kind of reactionary nutcase? Yet this is precisely analagous to your stance towards Gerard Batten (a UKIP MEP) and various other callers who failed to impress you with smoking gun examples of EU tyranny.

Michael Gove

I heard on the radio tonight that education secretary Michael Gove is proposing that children spend more time in school, with shorter holidays and longer school days. He claims this will particularly help 'poor' children, as it will enable them to increase their level of education. It is, in my view, designed to increase the role of schools as a form of childcare enabling parents to spend more time at work. In the case of 2-parent families it will increase the logic of both parents going out to work full time and in the case of single parent families it will mean there is no excuse for the parent not to be at work once the child/children are old enough to be in school.
Yet again, the government is bringing in measures to encourage stay-at-home Mums or Dads to enter the workplace (following recent tax breaks for working parents to help with child-care costs, not matched with any help for couples who choose to have one parent stay at home and look after the children). And since when have conservatives believed in increasing the amount of time that children spend in the care of the State? In fact, conservatives used to believe that the family was the bedrock of society but this bunch seem to have decided that the market should be awarded that role instead. Parents, it seems, should be enabled to spend as much of their time as possible creating wealth, while the children are prepared as thoroughly as possible for their own future roles as producers and consumers. Why not just cut out the middle man and send children back into the workplace, Dickensian style.
Having said all that, since we do live in a world where many parents do struggle to balance work with home life, there is an argument for making childcare less expensive and extending school hours does seem like an obvious way of tackling this issue. However, I do not think it should be compulsory, but it should be available for those children whose parents wish to take advantage of it. Indeed, many schools already run optional breakfast clubs and after school clubs.
As for Gove's proposal to shorten summer holidays, how typical of the current regime of millionaires to not appear to have any concerns about the fact that the cost of family holidays during the period when schools are closed would go up even higher than their current highly inflated levels.

Strike update

In my previous post I explained that I was not convinced that the public sector workers' strike over pensions was a good idea. In the end, however, I decided to take part in the strike, for two reasons:
(1) While I do not disagree with the need to reduce the deficit between what the government spends and the amount of money it raises through taxation, I think that targeting public sector pensions is unfair. Before attacking the conditions of employment of ordinary public sector workers, how about trying to recoup some revenue by taxing bankers' bonuses and increasing taxation on the financial sector generally (after all, they were the ones who benefited most directly from the recent bailouts) or by pulling the army out of afghanistan (perhaps we could have a referendum to decide whether or not the majority of voters support this expensive - and, many would say, pointless and unwinnable - war).
I also think that the NHS has far too many tiers of relatively highly paid managers (relative to my pay, anyway!) and I imagine a similar situation exists in other branches of the public sector. I would not be opposed to the government making some savings by cutting back on that area of spending.
Once some of these more appropriate (in my opinion) methods of reducing public spending have been looked at, then maybe we can talk about whether or not there is a need to reform public sector pensions (again! They have already been reformed in 2006).
(2) In spite of the above views, I was still not convinced that strike action was the way forward. In the end, my decision to strike was not really anything to do with the political issues involved. On the morning of the strike, I couldn't bring myself to go into work and help the management to defeat the efforts of those people (or, in the case of my workplace, person - only one of my colleagues took part in the strike) who were prepared to sacrifice a day's pay in order to stand up to our employer (which just happens to be the government) who was threatening to change our terms and conditions of employment for the worse. At 7.30am on the morning of 30th November I had to decide which side I was on and in the end it was not a hard decision to make.