Bloody, but unbowed

I remember clearly what I did on June 24th, 1995. It was a warm and sunny day in England and I was at a school fete, yet most of the parents at that fete spent two hours crowded into a marquee, watching the final of the Rugby World Cup. Against the odds and with the very public support of Nelson Mandela, South Africa won.

So when I saw that a film, Invictus, had been made describing that World Cup I was intrigued. The raw story was astonishing from many points of view. The South African team was not expected to do well. The newly-elected president was hardly expected to be interested in a game that is almost a religion to his political opponents, the Afrikaners. Both Mandela and the Springboks (as the SA rugby team is called) drew inspiration from a Victorian, yet Victorians treated both black and Afrikaner South Africans dreadfully.

On the other hand, South African films tend to be schmaltzy and I was sceptical that Morgan Freeman (Mandela) or Matt Damon (the South African rugby captain, Francois Pienaar) could do justice to their roles, or even do a reasonable accent. Too often, doing another country's accent ends up in caricature.

However, my curiousity won out and I went.

I am so glad I did. The film did a fine job of telling the story of South Africa's newly-won freedom from apartheid, the tensions and suspicions between white and black in the new South Africa, the abysmal state of SA rugby in the months leading up to the World Cup and a few of the many challenges faced by Mandela.

In its portrayal of the game of rugby this film is in its element, and this is why you should see it at the cinema rather than see it on TV. Unlike in American football, rugby offers no body armour to its players. Tackles by players are brutally hard: injuries not uncommon. The film makers created great feeling for this by a number of clever approaches, including filming the scrum from underneath.

There is a fairytale ending in which a match of two hours, drawn at full-time is won in extra time by a last minute drop kick at goal. This united a new nation in pride and seems the kind of thing that could only happen in fiction. Yet in all its essential elements this story is a true record of what happened. Morgan Freemen is an excellent and credible Mandela: Matt Damon plays Francois Pienaar superbly. My South African wife tells me that his Afrikaans accent is virtually perfect.

There are touching moments: there are harsh moments. There is hope and frustration. Finally, as happened on June 24th, there is incredible victory and exhilaration. It's a great film, and one of my rare recommendations. Go and see it now and get 2010 off to a great start.

Footnote: the Victorian who inspired both Mandela and Pienaar was English poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903). His poem gives the film its title.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Golfing for Cats

The late humorist Alan Coren had a deft way of dissecting his victims. In one particular article he depicted the Inland Revenue (the tax man for those not in the UK) as Nazi storm troopers, inflicting terror on small businesses. The reality behind the wit is that indeed the Inland Revenue has truly frightening powers under the law, but rarely uses them.

One has to wonder whether Alan Coren was prescient.

Since the tragic events of September 11th, 2001 (and 7th July 2005 bombings in London), Western governments have acted to preserve our liberty. Often it appears that they preserve our liberty by removing it:

• A woman was arrested under the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act and was convicted. Her crime was to read out a list of those soldiers killed in Iraq, while standing at the Cenotaph, which is itself a monument to those killed in the two World Wars.
  
• Harrassment of photographers has become routine, often as suspected terrorists. There are too many cases to mention here but one I read about yesterday shows hows the laws are being abused. His crime? Apparently at 5'11" and 168lbs weight, his size was threatening.
  
• The Regulation of Inspectory Powers Act (RIPA), designed to track criminals and terrorists, has been used frequently by local councils to track residents who are littering and commiting other minor offences.
  

Earlier this month, the government proposed to give power to a wide range of civil servants and council officials to spy on UK citizens by giving access to every phone call, email, text message and other electronic communication.

It's time to stop this assault on our liberty.

Hart District Council is one of the smallest councils in the country. Last night we discussed the extent to which existing powers have been abused and the extent to which proposed power might be. We voted overwhelmingly to direct our council officers not to use these powers except where they are obliged by law to do so.

It's a small step, but it represents an important change in direction in winning back our freedom, not from terrorists but from Government interference.

I hope Alan Coren would have approved (although he may well have poked fun at us while doing so).

Footnote: Why "Golfing for Cats"? Alan Coren explained simply he was choosing a book title to appeal to the widest possible audience. He is missed.

Who?

I am sure that across Europe today, people reading or hearing the news about the new European President and Foreign Affairs minister are wondering who on earth they are. I certainly am.

Now I am not someone who is violently anti-Europe. However, the way in which these posts were decided is exactly what makes Eurosceptics froth at the mouth. The selection of these people was patently undemocratic and chaotic, to the extent that Baroness Catherine Ashton did not even have an acceptance speech prepared.

This is bizarre. How can people chosen in such a way have any claim to legitimately represent Europe?

(The usual defence of the establishment in such cases is to pompously criticise anyone who asks such questions and point out how the winning candidates are utterly suitable for their new posts. If that's the case it begs the question: then why weren't they democratically elected?)

I feel like I have gone back to the Feudal Ages and just been presented with my new Lord and Master (and his Lady).

24 hours to save the NHS

In 1997, Labour famously campaigned that voters had "24 hours to save the National Health Service" (who knew Google would give so many hits when searching on this phrase?)

Today it has been revealed that

• up to a quarter of all patients in hospitals suffer from dementia
  
• half of these patients leave hospital ina worse state than they arrive
  
• in many cases nursing staff feel that don't have adequate training to deal with people with dementia
  

This is despite the NHS budget rising from £65bn in 2002-3 to 110bn in 2010-11, an increase about the same as the total budget for defence. The talk this year in the NHS has been about "cuts" and "shortfalls".

A simple calculation shows that NHS spending is approximately £1,800 for every man, woman and child. How can there be so many ongoing problems after so much has been spent? I hope that voters will remember Labour's 1997 slogan come the next election.

Make Pontificating History

Am I the only one to be annoyed by pointless and deceitful campaign slogans? Let's take just a few:

• Make Poverty History.
  
• Every Child Matters.
  
• Millenium Development Goals.
  
• Abolish Youth Unemployment.
  

All of these have good intentions, but all seem disconnected from reality.

Make Poverty History

Jesus himself said "The poor will always be with us". Now I am not making a case for abandoning the poor, but in reality throwing money at countries or organisations which have shown themselves quite incapable of handling it isn't going to help anyone, least of all the poor. The home page of MPH is full of loaded political terms and devoid of ideas that will solve poverty long term. In fact, some of the actions suggested are little more than a left-wing rant ("vulture funds" "climate debt"). The only way to have any chance of making poverty history is to build democratic and commercial systems where the rule of law drives government. Throwing funds at dysfunctional states will only serve to impoverish ourselves and encourage and enrich the corrupt.

Every Child Matters.
Of course every child matters. This programme seems to be mainly to do with "joined up government". Whenever I hear the words "joined up government" I know what it means: people doing only what's in the official procedure instead of using their God-given brains. Every Child Matters so children can't paddle in water. Every Child Matters so teachers can't put sunscreen on children in their care. Every Child Matters so don't let them learn about losing; rather let them learn that if they lose, then it must be somebody's fault.

If every child does matter, why don't we do more to teach children about the world as it is, full of opportunity but also subject to disappointment? If every child matters, why don't we do a better job of educating our children so they are better able to cope with life and succeed?

Millenium Development Goals

Among these are the goal to reduce maternal deaths by 75% by 2015. This is surely a worthy goal. But we need to understand that many or most of those deaths come about because of society and culture in poor countries. These issues include women having more children (and each pregnancy is a health risk), poor care before during and after birth, sexual violence and poor condom use. All of these will take a considerable time to fix: setting a goal of 2015 is unrealistic.

Abolish Youth Unemployment

The obvious question is: How? I don't know any country in the world where there is zero unemployment. Now of course, we could abolish youth unemployment by introducing some kind of national service but I suspect not too many people would find that acceptable (but who knows)?

...

The common problem with all of these is that they set out an aspiration that is unrealistic. When the goal is missed, as was bound to happen, this is often followed by a tirade against right wing politicians or capitalism or both which almost by definition are uncaring and therefore must be to blame.

And this is the biggest pity of all, because these aspirations are often worthy goals. If we could reject the rhetoric and set realistic goals we would achieve a great deal more for those who desperately need our help.

These matters are too important to fall prey to petty politics.

Education, education, uh ... and lying

A major item in the news today has been about parents who lie to get their children into popular schools. The essence of the news is whether it's "right" to do so.

It seems to me we are missing the point. Twelve years ago, Tony Blair said his three main priorities for government were "education, education, education".

The real reason parents lie to get their children into schools is that, after twelve years of Labour rule, they realise that some schools do a much better job of educating their children. Labour has spent huge sums on education and delivered some improvements but too many schools fall short and parents aren't prepared to wait: their childrens' education is too precious.

The debate shouldn't be about how to punish parents who lie, but how to fix the problem: too many schools just don't measure up.

WMMMs are a mass distraction

So it's easy to get selected as a Tory WMMM (White, Middle-aged, Middle-class Male) candidate for parliament then, is it?

I wonder. Here's a little tale.

1 May 2008: I win re-election for the second time in Hart, with the biggest majority in the district. Hubris whispers slyly in my ear that this is because of how wonderful I am: Truth forces me to admit I have two excellent fellow councillors in the ward and possibly the best constituency MP in the land.

3 May 2008: Still feeling good about myself, I email my local constituency chairman, asking how to apply to become a Conservative parliamentary candidate (PPC).

7 June 2008: Not having heard, I email again. Again I get no reply.

14 May 2009: It's 11 months later and we have a new constituency chairman. So I email him to ask how to become a PPC.

19 May 2009: The chairman replies apologetically that he has made enquiries and CCO (Conservative Central Office) has recently closed the lists and is not accepting any more applications.

19 May 2009: I write back, pointing out that I'd twice enquired in mid 2008, almost a year before lists closed.

19 May 2009: A somewhat dismissive email comes back from CCO, saying they have no record of me applying. Well, that's right, they don't because my email got either lost or ignored in the local office.

21 May 2009: Having slept on it for 2 nights because it is not necessarily wise to send an email while exasperated, I write to CCO politely pointing out (with attached evidence) that I had twice previously asked to be considered but that the request had somehow fallen through the cracks and would they kindly reconsider having closed their lists?

24 May 2009: David Cameron announces he is re-opening candidates lists.

26 May 2009: I write in and ask for an application form.

29 May 2009: I get a reply from Eric Pickles which says, among other things, "It is clear that our political system needs radical change if we are to restore public trust – and that change involves new people putting themselves forward as MPs." An application form is attached.

Early June 2009: I fill in the forms, get referees, submit the forms.

25 June 2009: I get a reply from CCO, part of which says "... because of the large number of applications, it will not be possible for us to enter into individual correspondence with you about your application, but you will hear from us, probably by the end of July."

15 Aug 2009: I am feeling a touch neurotic now but I don't want to appear too neurotic so I wait a couple of weeks after the end of July deadline before sending CCO an email asking "Have I missed your reply, or are things running slowly over the holiday period?"

20 Aug 2009: A reply arrives. The essence is "We will contact you should you be progressed to the next stage. You will, however, be advised either way."

13 Sep 2009: The Sunday Times runs a story on "A-List" outsiders who've applied when I did and now have completed the whole process. I wonder. I am just a local Tory councillor. Where in the alphabet does that put me? I hope it's not the Z-List.

Early October 2009: I am sadly getting used to being ignored by my party. I see that in Bracknell (where I work), the Tory party has interviewed a lot of candidates and drawn up a short list. I realise I might not have made the short list but it would have been nice to been given the opportunity.

Part of me hopes I make the list before I retire.

Part of me thinks that Bracknell is a pretty good constituency where I have worked for most of the last decade and where I have a large collection of friends.

Part of me wonders whether it wouldn't be easier to run as an independent candidate.

Many people believe that as a white middle-aged middle class man I will have received preferential treatment. I am still waiting for CCO to get back to me. If it's true that men get preference, I wonder how much longer I would have to wait if I were a woman.

Update:
My older son, who is flu'-ridden but whose judgement I respect unquestioningly, told me that what I have written above sounds bitter. I am sorry about this: I didn't intend to sound that way but I must admit to feeling let-down. What I had intended to write was more about getting more women Tory MPs until I got distracted into looking up dates. So, dear reader, having read this far please stay with me!

I have a very good friend who until recently was the UK CFO of one of the best known retailers in the world. She left them when they moved their offices to continental Europe, as she has children who are happily settled in schools and whom she did not want to move. I've tried to persuade her to become a Tory candidate on several occasions but she's been adamant that she feels Tories don't want people like her.

I've attempted to explain this isn't true, but I may be labouring in vain in this case. If we want to attract more high quality women candidates we need to make women feel that they will be welcome. I think all-women candidate lists do the opposite and are patronising. And if we get high quality women candidates to come forward, we'd better be prepared for them and not give them the run-around.

Little Miss Perfect

More than 25 years ago, a customer of mine and his wife were expecting their first child. This man was inherently cheerful: the kind of person you look forward to meeting in a business day. When I heard that the Big Day had come and the child been born, I popped into his office with happy congratulations which had left my lips as I entered. It was too late to register the grey and shocked expression which he could not hide. The child had been born healthy, but with Downs Syndrome. I have always been poor with words in such circumstances and all I could say was how sorry I was, and inwardly berate myself for not having checked if all had gone well before bursting in with a happy smile on my face.

It's something all expectant parents must worry about at least a little: what if Baby isn't perfect? For the vast majority, a counting of fingers and toes and a verbal thumbs up from the medical staff is a happy start to parenthood. The shock can therefore hit perhaps even harder when you learn later in life that Something is Wrong.

For Colleen and I, this happened with our second child Anthony. A bouncing baby and sturdy toddler (I nicknamed him Barrel, which given his adult wiry frame is ironic) he was a happy child who developed normally up to and including starting to talk. Then he went backwards and said less and less. Family and friends reassured us of famous people they knew who were late starters, but the worry started to grow. Cutting short a very long story of two years' worth of visits to specialists and speech therapists, at the age of four we were told he was autistic and enrolled him in the Key, the Johannesburg school for autistic children. His vocabulary at that age was less than a dozen words.

And then the miracle occurred. Autism is not curable (as far as today's science knows) and yet within weeks Anthony's vocabulary came on at staggering speed. After a year's intense speech, occupational and music therapy his development had pretty much caught up with other children his age. Within the next year he was ready to attend mainstream school. Please forgive a brief boast that he graduated with an excellent degree from Bristol this summer and, equally important, he has a large group of friends. He clearly couldn't have been autistic, but the important point I'd like to make is that somehow the teaching and support he received in those two years at the Key changed his life unimaginably for the better.

These memories came back yesterday when I received a press release from Parliament. The Science and Technology committee is investigating two pretty fundamental elements of government policy (1) What actually is the policy? (2) On what evidence is the policy based? This may sound simple: actually it's radical, making the assumption that government policy should be based on things that have been shown to work, rather than (perhaps) political expedience.

The first investigation will look at reading difficulties and dyslexia and how these are addressed today by government policy. The committee is looking for evidence as to how well this works. I include the full press release below: if you feel you can contribute, please do so now: the closing date for submissions is 26th October, just nine days away as I write this.

Basing government policy on evidence seems obvious. Please help make it happen so that even when a child isn't born Little Miss Perfect (or Master Perfect) they still have a good chance in life.

SCIENCE & TECHNOLOGY COMMITTEE
Select Committee Announcement

Committee Office, House of Commons, 7 Millbank, London SW1P 3JA
Tel. No. 020 7219 2794 Fax. No. 020 7219 0896 Email: scitechcom@parliament.uk


No. 04 (08-09): 16 October 2009

NEW INQUIRY

EVIDENCE CHECK: LITERACY INTERVENTIONS

In preparation for the establishment of the Science and Technology Committee on 1 October, the former IUSS Committee commissioning work to assess the Government’s use of evidence in policy-making. The Committee wrote to the Government on a number of topics and asked two questions: (1) What is the policy? (2) On what evidence is the policy based? The Government has now replied and having considered the responses the Committee has selected Literacy Interventions for its first Evidence Check.

The first Evidence Check will consist of two sessions on 4th and 9th of November. The Committee invites short submissions by 26 October on the issues that the Committee will be exploring:
— the Government’s policy on literacy interventions for school children with reading difficulties
— the evidence base for the Every Child a Reader and Making Good Progress programmes
— the definition of dyslexia
— the evidence base for diagnosing dyslexia and teaching dyslexic children to read.

Each submission should:
a) be no more than 1,000 words in length
b) be in Word format (no later than 2003) with as little use of colour or logos as possible
c) have numbered paragraphs
d) include a declaration of interests.

A copy of the submission should be sent by e-mail to scitechcom@parliament.uk and marked “Evidence Check 1”. An additional paper copy should be sent to:
The Clerk
Science and Technology Committee House of Commons
7 Millbank
London SW1P 3JA

It would be helpful, for Data Protection purposes, if individuals submitting written evidence send their contact details separately in a covering letter. You should be aware that there may be circumstances in which the House of Commons will be required to communicate information to third parties on request, in order to comply with its obligations under the Freedom of Information Act 2000.

Please supply a postal address so a copy of the Committee’s report can be sent to you upon publication.

A guide for written submissions to Select Committees may be found on the parliamentary website at: www.parliament.uk/commons/selcom/witguide.htm

Please also note that:
— Material already published elsewhere should not form the basis of a submission, but may be referred to within a proposed memorandum, in which case a hard copy of the published work should be included.
— Memoranda submitted must be kept confidential until published by the Committee, unless publication by the person or organisation submitting it is specifically authorised.
— Once submitted, evidence is the property of the Committee. The Committee normally, though not always, chooses to make public the written evidence it receives, by publishing it on the internet (where it will be searchable), by printing it or by making it available through the Parliamentary Archives. If there is any information you believe to be sensitive you should highlight it and explain what harm you believe would result from its disclosure. The Committee will take this into account in deciding whether to publish or further disclose the evidence.
— Select Committees are unable to investigate individual cases.

Smooth

I am a notoriously fussy eater. I confess this, I am sorry, but that is just how I am and now having lived a good half century, I am unlikely to change.

I suspect that I must have driven my mother mad and that after having me as a fussy toddler it is a wonder that she went on and had two other children. The list of things I don’t like to eat is several times the length of those I do and includes most fruit and vegetables, almost all cheese and most jams.

Except one.

The problem is that this one jam is very hard to find.

I was reminded of this yesterday when staying at a hotel for a business conference. It was a Hilton, which is perfectly acceptable. The breakfast was none too bad, and I noticed this tray with five small jars of things you could spread on your toast or pastry, namely honey, raspberry jam, strawberry jam, peach jam and marmalade.

I loathe them all.

And yet, there is a perfectly harmless jam they could have put there. If they had, it would have been consumed by the gallon. It’s not even expensive. It’s called smooth apricot jam and the best example of it that I have come across in the UK is Hartley’s “No Bits“ apricot jam. It is the best jam in the world and the only one which delivers pure, unalloyed joy upon consuming it.

I looked around all the other tables. No-one had opened even one of their jars of jam. Well, of course not. If one considers the history of apricot jam, I can state for a fact that it led directly to the Treaty of Vienna, the Armistice ending the Great War and the overthrow of apartheid. Who can possibly think bad thoughts or do bad deeds when there is smooth apricot jam on the menu? No-one.

Looking at the world right now, it’s clear that we are going through hard times. Some people blame Gordon Brown, or President Bush, or Putin (what is he now? President? Prime Minister? Grand Panjandrum? I forget). Some blame climate change or bankers or Greenpeace.

I think we all know the truth.

Bring back smooth apricot jam and all will be well.

Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

Bankers still don't get it.

We're in possibly the worst financial crisis of modern history and yet

• Bankers are once again pulling in staggering bonuses
  
• While simultaneously threatening (blackmailing?) governments that if any action is taken to change this culture of greed, banks will move elsewhere.
  

The implication is that we can't afford to do without them. Recent history shows the opposite: they have brought unprecedented hardship to the richest economies of the world by their excessive risk-taking, for which they rewarded themselves handsomely with our money.

Bob Diamond from Barclays Capital was interviewed on BBC Radio4 on 15th September and said "banking is a risk business ... there is no banking without risk". That's fine, Mr Diamond, when you are risking your money. It's not when you are risking our economy. In this area, governments should legislate to reduce the risk to the country if a bank, or a series of banks in the kind of mass hysteria that we saw in recent years, acts foolishly. If banking involves risk (and I think we have to accept it does) then that risk must be qualified and understood at all times.

What about pay packets for bankers or other employees?

I think there is a simple answer here and it doesn't involve changing the law.

Let's start with what a million pounds in annual income buys you. With that much money, you can buy a large house in the best part of the country. A Porsche or two, replaced every year or two. Send your children to the best public schools. Travel first class on holiday. Enough left over to build up a fat pension pot. In other words, you are Extremely Well Off.

So why would anyone want more than £1m a year? The only answer can be bragging rights: a second or third holiday home, which would be empty almost all year. A boat, similarly unused. Maybe a small jet, if first class travel isn't comfortable enough.

Yet most of the money bankers make is our money. A few pounds every time we buy a tax-protected investment. A few pounds every time we buy or sell shares. A few pounds when we use foreign currencies on our holidays. A few pounds with every transaction on our pension plans. Most of these are things over which we have little or no choice because of the business of finance is essentially an oligopoly.

So what should the government do?

Rather than bringing in laws, it could simply decline to do business or minimise business with any publicly-held company whose employees earn over £1m a year.

Which banks would this leave? The small ones. Putting government business through them would make the banking sector much more competitive.

What about things the government can't do without?

Mobile phones? Tell the key supplier that when next reviewed, business will either be moved to a smaller vendor with less plutocratic executives, or cut back or both.

Defence contractors? We'll sign for those planes / helicopters / guns / ships / supplies when your execs cut back their pay. Play one off against the other as part of the negotiating process. Our objective should be to buy security, not absurd levels of wealth for our suppliers.

The BBC? If it wants government support (ie the licence fee) then it better cut everyone's pay back below £1m.

Are there exceptions? Yes. If someone makes a great deal of money through his or her own endeavours with his or her own capital and is successful, then let them earn all they wish. James Dyson making a mint - well done: here's a real entrepreneur! We need more of them and fewer parasites.

Footnote: according to The Telegraph Steve Ballmer, the CEO of Microsoft, earned less than $1.3m (£800,000) last year.

I don't want to join the Labour Party

In April 2007 I joined Fujitsu-Siemens Computers, a company owned 50-50 by Fujitsu and Siemens (surprise, surprise). Last year, Siemens sold its 50% stake to Fujitsu and since then the company I joined has been merging with Fujitsu UK. (For reasons that don't matter here, it's been a fairly complex process.)

On July 22nd, I received an email from the trade union Unite, which it appears was sent to every employee of the old Fujitsu Siemens Computer company. It invited me to join Unite and attached a two page brochure explaining the benefits.

Now of course, you may be for or against trade unions in general or Unite in particular. I'm not trying to persuade you either way in this blog.

However, I was interested to read in the Independent recently that Unite gave £15m to the Labour Party last year. That's about £7 for every member of Unite. It's donated regardless of the political preference of the members.

To me this seems that joining Unite is equivalent to becoming a disenfranchised member of the Labour Party. I pay the money, but I don't get to vote on Labour Party policy (or anything else). Why would I want to do that, even if I were a Labour supporter? For that matter, who says that Labour is the best party for employed people? When Labour came to power in 1997, unemployment was rapidly shrinking. After 12 years of Labour rule, unemployment is rapidly rising and is higher than at any time since 1995.

I've asked Unite to justify their stance. I'll let you know what I hear.

Compassion for the criminals

I know this may seem an odd question, but why are we engrossed in showing compassion to out-and-out criminals?

According to the BBC website, the Foreign Secretary, David Miliband, didn't want Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi to die in prison. Why not? AAaM was almost 49 when in 2001 he was sentenced to life imprisonment for the worst terrorist atrocity in British history. There had to be every expectation that he would die in prison. Why would this invoke a moment's thought, even less compassion, on the part of David Miliband?

And then there's the case of Ronnie Biggs. Sentenced to 30 years' imprisonment for his part in the Great Train Robbery, he's spent a total of about 9 years inside before being released on compassionate grounds.

If we're going to show compassion - and there are many cases where we should - let's show it to people who can reasonably claim to be deserving of it. If we were to draw up a list of such cases, I suspect Biggs and al-Megrahi would be at the bottom of it.

You Guys Give up Yet? Or are you Thirsty for More?

There's been a bit of a stir in the military-political world this week. Somebody has been briefing against General Sir Richard Dannatt, the Chief of the General Staff in the UK. It would appear that General Dannatt has made the mistake of telling the truth about what the armed forces really need and someone, presumably in government, didn't really like it or the implied criticism. So they started a campaign of rumours against General Dannatt.

A blogger called Guido Fawkes identified the origin of the smear campaign as Kevan Jones. An awful lot of people are very supportive of our armed forces, and the revelation of the presumed source of the smear led to a torrent of anger in Guido's blog.

Now comes the interesting bit. Kevan has an entry on Wikipedia. And at this point, someone decided it needed updating. Some of the updates weren't complimentary. Wikipedia has an army of editors to "correct" such matters and they can even lock an entry to prevent "vandalism". However, they leave a trail of what was previously there. It makes interesting reading in Kevan's case.

The title of this blog entry is, by the way, from Kevin in the 1980s film Home Alone. Kevan would do well to think about it.

Sunday Photo of the Week

Yes, I know it's Tuesday. I spent Sunday making cookies.

Anyway, back to the photo. About 30 minutes south of Cape Town is the town of Fish Hoek. It has a gorgeous sandy beach which is extremely safe for swimming. The water in the bay is shallow and only gradually gets deeper, with gentle tides so it's a favourite with families.

There are also some fishermen who scrape a living by pulling their boats out into False Bay. In the olden days, fishing here was pretty much a hit-or-miss affair but since the coming of cheap mobile phones things have changed. They have a "spotter" who sits with binoculars on the rocky hill overlooking the bay. As soon as he spots a shoal of fish he phones the fishermen who are resting in the dunes and within a couple of minutes with a flurry of activity they have launched their rowing boat, just as they are doing in this photo.

Later in the day, you can eat their catch at the pleasant Beachcomber or Gallery restaurants a few hundred yards down the beach.

Sunday Photo Of the Week (SPOW)

I visited Las Vegas last year and, having flown in from London, was pretty jet-lagged. So on the first morning I woke very early. As I walked out of my hotel, I saw this view of New York.

The pre-dawn sky was exactly this gorgeous shade of deep blue and it looked as though the hotel had been built to look its best when viewed from an inconspicuous entry to the MGM Grand.

This being Vegas, there were still plenty of people around at 5am although to be fair a good number of them were joggers. It made me decide to take up early-morning jogging and I only gave up on this resolution once I'd actually tried it.

Power to the People

By 2015, Britain will run out of electrical power.

This is a statement of fact, based on our expected power consumption and the way power stations will gradually be shut down. We take it for granted today that when we turn on a light switch or plug in an electrical device it will work. Over the next few years that will start changing.

On May 27th, 2008, hundreds of thousands of houses in England lost power when two power stations failed by coincidence within minutes of each other. This was a shock, mainly because Britain's power grid has been so reliable in the past. However, it will become more common, not by accident but by inaction unless we act fast (and even then it may be too late.)

The problem is that ... well the problem comes from a number of causes.

• Power requirements keep increasing as we get wealthier and as use of technology increases. Newspapers and books cost very little electrical power to produce; the Internet is a lot more power-hungry.
  
• Britain is running out of natural gas. Production peaked in the last decade and is rapidly decreasing. The biggest alternative source of gas, Russia, has shown itself to be unreliable.
  
• Nuclear power plants have a limited life. Although the radiation is kept within the plant, it slowly causes the plant to decay which is why after a few decades, plants have to be retired. Four of Britain's ten nuclear power plants will close in the next decade, with no current plan to replace them.
  
• EU regulations on carbon emissions mean that Britain's coal-fired plants will not meet standards, without expensive and uneconomic modifications.
  
• Planning regulations, local opposition and the inefficiency of wind-power have limited its adoption.
  

So take a moment to think about this.

How would you manage without your early morning cuppa? No street lights? No lifts or escalators? No power for your computer? (Yes, you may have a battery in your laptop, but I bet your broadband connection is plugged into a power socket). No lights. Or hot water - even if you have a gas boiler, chances are it's controlled by an electrical timer. And that's before we get to the important stuff, like hospitals, factories, banks (want to draw cash from a powered-down autobank?), shops, schools and many, many more.

The next election will see Brown out. Unless we act fast, brown-outs will become common in the economy too.

Keep Them Honest with Evidence

"Politicians! They're so transparent and cynical! They never do the right thing - they do what's best for them!"

Ever felt like that?

Then here's a chance to change things, just a bit.

The Innovation, Universities, Science and Skills Committee is looking for suggestions of areas of government policy that require an ‘evidence check’. In theory as a result of the hearings the government will be more likely to make sensible decisions, based on evidence.

So if you'd like them to investigate an area of government policy which you believe does not have a good basis in fact, read here and write to them.

And let's start making government better.

Sunday Photo Of the Week (SPOW)

Old Potbridge Road lies between Hook and Hartley Wintney in North East Hampshire. It's a very quiet country road, with just four or five homes built along it and it comes to a dead end in real life long before the map shows this.

However, it's a high point relative to the land to the west and so when we had a lovely sunset in the spring, I set off for the Old Potbridge Road to take some photos. I took several dozen, but most weren't keepers. One of the survivors is shown above; the remaining half dozen are in my online album.

Fine Weather We're Having

It's said that people are divided into three groups: those that can count and those that can't.

Similarly, when it comes to climate change, people seem to fall into one of three categories: the evangelists, who believe that man made climate change will do hard-to-imagine harm; the atheists who deny that mankind's activities have any significant impact on our climate; and the agnostics who can't make up their minds, despite all the evidence.

I'm an agnostic.

However, today I'd like to introduce an atheist, the Australian Professor Ian Plimer, who has just written Heaven And Earth: Global Warming - The Missing Science.

We've all heard to a greater or lesser extent about why man is causing global warming. Here' is an extract from The Spectator's review of Professor Plimer's book.

What Heaven And Earth sets out to do is restore a sense of scientific perspective to a debate which has been hijacked by ‘politicians, environmental activists and opportunists’. It points out, for example, that polar ice has been present on earth for less than 20 per cent of geological time; that extinctions of life are normal; that climate changes are cyclical and random; that the CO2 in the atmosphere — to which human activity contributes the tiniest fraction — is only 0.001 per cent of the total CO2 held in the oceans, surface rocks, air, soils and life; that CO2 is not a pollutant but a plant food; that the earth’s warmer periods — such as when the Romans grew grapes and citrus trees as far north as Hadrian’s Wall — were times of wealth and plenty.

In September, Colleen and I are off for a week's peace and quiet somewhere. I've put Heaven and Earth on my reading list for that week, together with an overdue read of the IPCC reports. (I'll have to squeeze in something lighter as well - perhaps re-reading of one of PG Wodehouse's Jeeves books).

Maybe, just maybe, I'll be converted. One way or the other.

Regarding Henry

Henry Allingham's funeral yesterday reminded me the time I briefly met him in April last year.

It was the 90th anniversary of the founding of the Royal Air Force and, together with some other local councillors, I was kindly invited to a ceremony at RAF Odiham. Nine trees, one for each decade, were planted at the base.

"Officially" planting a tree is a bit of a laugh. Someone else has done the hard work and, with the usual RAF meticulous organisation the soil was neatly piled beside the hole and the sapling placed inside, exactly vertical. So all I had to do was take the gleaming shovel (one per hole, handed over by perfectly presented personnel) and formally shovel in two or three spadefuls. I felt honoured and it was a bit of fun.

The real VIP was, of course, none of the councillors but Henry Allingham. He was 111 years old at the time, and wheelchair bound. It was a chilly spring day and he was wrapped up warmly. He was also a fund of cheerfulness and my abiding memory is what happened as he started shovelling soil onto the tree. We were all watching this World War I veteran with awe when he burst into tuneful song "I talk to the trees, but they don't listen to me."

If this was a cameo of his life, then what a remarkable life.

Dear Henry, you'll be missed.

Just the Facts, Ma'am

I heard recently that the amount of information in the world doubles every two years. I don't know if this is true, but it seems possible.

Faced with this, people often have difficulty in sorting the wheat from the chaff. What matters? What's true? What information can I trust?

Fortunately, there's a great source of simple information about scientific matters, including health. Sense About Science doesn't claim to cover everything but it does have good and easy-to-read information about Bird Flu, Detox, MMR, Radiation (mobile phones) and many other topics.

Just click the picture above to have a read - and make sense of the information deluge.

Sunday Photo Of the Week (SPOW)

When I turned 50, I had planned to play a couple of songs on the guitar at my party. However, I found it was just too difficult to rescue the skills I'd had 30 years earlier, even with the help of a good guitar instructor.

Russ Lane is a good friend who recently had a Significant Birthday. To my chagrin and envy, he achieved what I had failed to do, and played and sang half a dozen great rock 'n' roll numbers from his youth. Here he is, at the microphone, giving a short talk at the end to the assembled partygoers. My word, did he play well. It made me relieved, in retrospect, that I hadn't succeeded - my efforts would have paled in comparison.

I shot quite a few photos at his party. This one was one of the better ones, ironically taken when my flash failed and so it retained the great colours of the nightclub. 75mm, f1.6, 1/60, ISO 200. The original is here.

Major article on war injuries

In The Telegraph today Sir John Major has written a good article on how Britain treats its war wounded. One sentence jumped out at me

If we cannot afford to treat our wounded with generosity then we should not expose them to risk.

Exactly.

The government's approach to our military has been driven by evident contempt. Its treatment of our dead and wounded has been virtually inexplicable: politically foolish, intellectually indefensible and morally wrong.

Churchill lost the election after the war when returning soldiers turned to Labour. It's hard to imagine too many of our returning servicemen and women doing the same in the next election.

The Best Customer Service in the World

A man running a small business in the West Indies is losing money satisfying a happy customer in the UK.

The customer is me. The company makes a very spicy sauce. I bought a bottle of it when my wife and I visited Nevis in the West Indies for our 25th anniversary in 2007. Since you only use 2-3 drops at a time, it's lasted 2 1/2 years, but it's at an end. This was a case of great sadness for me: I cannot afford to travel to Nevis to buy another bottle but this is without doubt a superb sauce: the best I have come across in more than 50 years on Earth. Two to three drops blow your head off: I suspect a teaspoonful would be fatal.

I noticed that the label included an email address and, more in hope than expectation, I send off an email asking whether there was anyone in the UK who stocked the sauce. Back came the reply "my sister is going back to england next week give me your telephone # and i will give you a call on how to get some over to you glad you enjoyed it"

I emailed back my phone number and he called me from the West Indies and has indeed arranged for his sister to bring back two bottles of this sauce. This is spectacular service: the "deal" is just £10.

The man's name is Llewellyn Clarke and his sauce is shown in the photograph.

So if you are ever in Nevis, call in to the local supermarket and buy this sauce. It's just labelled "Hot Pepper and Thyme Sauce" with Llewellyn Clarke's name on it. You can buy it from Ram's supermarket, just outside Charlestown on Nevis. It's the best spicy sauce in the world and so is the after-sales service!

Swine flu and beer

So here I am at home with swine flu.

It's not a lot of fun but it is also boring. On Friday we had tickets to see Jude Law in Hamlet. Sorry I missed you, Jude. On Saturday we had tickets to an Army concert. The Dearly Beloved wasn't going to waste the tickets so she took a friend instead of me. I mean, I could have died. Today we had tickets to RIAT, the best air show in the world. Gave them to some friends. At least it was their anniversary.

Today I bleared into consciousness mid-morning. By lunch time I was zonked so I fell asleep. When I woke up about 4 o'clock I saw England were in danger of winning the Test. So I thought I would watch. This would be more fun if we had furniture in the lounge. The furniture is being re-upholstered so I am sitting on a garden chair.

This swine flu was very badly timed.

Now, I am a even-tempered man so I can adjust.

All I need is a beer.

I don't feel up to getting one from the kitchen fridge. My Younger Son refuses to get me a beer unless I can find something on the Internet that says it's OK to have a beer with swine flu.

The first Google hit is titled "swine flu: is it safe to drink beer?" Answers include "Of course beer is safe. Alcohol kills all the germs. ", "Acidity and alcohol will kill any virus that tries to live in beer" and "NonPork based beer only". MYS does not give due credence to these. As a recent graduate he is filled with an undue sense of the importance of his fatuous opinion.

So I look on the National Health Service website.

The top hits for "swine flu beer" include "Cancer-of-the-breast female" "cancer-of-the-testicle" (which I assume is male), "Herceptin", "chemotherapy" and "menopause". Now I am truly worried.

Then I come across a site that says alcohol causes swine flu. Scary.

A beer would take the edge off.

What is Love?

A few years ago I was contacted by a poor widow whose Nigerian husband had left her $10 million in cash. If I could just help her get it out of Nigeria using my bank account she would let me have $4 million. We had a pleasant email conversation for a few days before I let slip that I had given "her" details to the president@whitehouse.gov, after which she became terminally reticent.

So sad.

My family is spread around the world. We often keep in touch using Skype. Out of the blue, I've just been contacted on Skype by "Tonya". Here's how the conversation went.


I apologise for the grammar and the misquote from Twelfth Night, but I was so excited that I was on the verge of discovering love that my education failed me.

I don't know why Tonya isn't speaking to me any more.

The Man with the Melted Face

In the spring of 2008, I met a man with a melted face.

You probably think I am speaking metaphorically, but this is only partly true. To get an idea of what his face looked like, imagine it a copy of the original was made by Madame Tussauds waxworks and heat was applied. That's how his face looked except what had happened had affected a real face not a wax one. I think it's probably impossible to imagine the agony he must have endured to real his skin and flesh and blood.

He was a British soldier and he and I and another 40 people were guests at the launch of a fund-raising programme, Music on Fire. One of the stars of the show, Hayley Westonra, was at the launch and met and spoke to the soldier, as well as others who had been wounded in the course of duty. To her immense credit, she smiled and did not flinch when introduced and seeing his horrific injuries for the first time.

We can't do much for those soldiers who have lost their lives, other than to remember them with respect and support their families. For those who return grievously wounded, we ought to do our utmost to care for them. I remain incensed at how little the Government does and I hope the next Government will fix this.

In the mean time, we can do more ourselves. The leading charities are, of course, quite happy to accept cash donations but in addition they also organise events at which you can have fun while raising funds.

Help for Heroes helps the servicemen and women wounded in Britain's current conflicts.

The Army Benevolent Fund regularly holds fundraising events, as do the RAF Benevolent Fund and the Royal Navy Benevolent Fund Trust.

Don't wait for the government and bureaucracy to act - do something yourself now and let the man with the melted face know he and others like him won't be forgotten.

Who will defend the defenders of the realm?

I see that Lord Mandelson of Foy is leading Labour's spin on how to handle the recession. No "cuts" of course - only Conservatives do cuts, it would appear. Instead Labour's guiding light (if that is the phrase I need) talks of "constraints" and "efficiency". My word, are we sure he isn't a Tory?

Sadly, in one respect I find myself agreeing with him. In the second paragraph of the BBC report, he says that "sustained investment" in areas like healthcare and defence would continue.

It's the defence bit I'd like to focus on. The list of what the armed forces need is large and growing:

• More helicopters (and probably newer ones, too).
  
• More body armour.
  
• Better protected vehicles,
  
• More radios.
  
• Better transport to and from war zones: I am astonished that part of our transport fleet consists of aircraft (the Lockheed 1011) that civilian airlines got rid of in the last millenium.
  
• Back home, better treatment for the families of servicemen and women; at the current rate of expenditure, it will take decades to make their accommodation decent.
  
• Better care and rehab for the wounded.
  
• More money for ammunition and fuel: if we are to have armed forces, we need to train them properly.
  

Most of the above should be uncontentious. I am not raising here the matter of supersonic aircraft, nuclear deterrents or aircraft carriers.

Nor should we expect that we can avoid all deaths on duty. Any decision to take part in a conflict carries a real risk that our forces will die or be badly injured. However, we owe our soldiers a duty that their lives are not risked recklessly and that their home life, which will never be luxurious, is at least decent.

I hope that's what Lord Mandelson of Foy meant. Even more, I hope it's what the next Conservative government will do.

The true coward

According to today's Sunday Times, the Labour Government is in conflict with the Army about Afghanistan.

Labour's actions in sending our armed forces, especially (but not only) the Army, into battle underequipped and undermanned is appalling and shameful. When they were deployed to Helmand province in 2006, John Reid expected no shots would be fired in anger. Today, with more troops having lost their lives in Afghanistan than Iraq, we have an anonymous Labour minister quoted as saying "General Dannatt ... is playing a dangerous game."

This was in reaction to a report that General Dannatt had said at a dinner with Tory MPs that 2,000 more troops were needed in Afghanistan.

One can't help contrast General Dannatt's forthright speech with the cowardice of an anonymous briefing. The people playing the dangerous game are those politicians who callously risk our soldiers' lives.

It is utterly shameful.

Literally

I have a good friend in California. She works for Sun Microsystems and writes a blog on the subject of writing. Recently, she discovered that "factoid" meant something different from what she (and probably you) thought it does.

I must confess I'm a bit of a pedant. Leaving aside why this is (it's all about me, right?), the result is that I listen very carefully to what people say and wonder if it is true. Yesterday I was driving to a customer and listening to the BBC's programme In Our Time (this link will expire in mid-July), which is normally very interesting. The guest on the show was talking about the proliferation of life just before the Cambrian period. (If you are not familiar with the Cambrian period, look it up on Wikipedia. Suffice to say, the Cambrian period was quite a bit before Julius Caesar invaded Britain).

During this period in the Earth's history, there were life forms called Ediacara Biota which, in the absence of much competition, flourished. According to the presenter "the world was, literally, their oyster."

Really?

The world was an oyster? Literally?

My word. How we have come along.

So my request for the day - even the month - is this: please can we use "literally" only when we mean it?

Aviva - au revoir!

For many years my wife and I have insured our cars with Norwich Union. They weren't the cheapest but they weren't the most expensive either. Their prices were roughly competitive.

More importantly, they were easy and pleasant to deal with. When we phoned them up, the phone was answered promptly. I could understand the person easily, and they could understand me. When something went wrong, they were quick to help.

Recently Norwich Union has been rebranded Aviva, apparently a "global brand". I don't know if that's really important to them (people quite happily buy Cape apples, Champagne and BMWs for example) but I didn't really care.

What I did care about was the sudden plummet in quality of service.

My wife tried to add our son to one of the car insurance policies last week. When she initially phoned, she was asked to complete the request online. Well, we both have degrees in computer science, so going online is no big deal. It took ages, however, to complete the form and just as that was done, the application crashed. Mmmmm. There goes half an hour.

So my wife called back.

They have these wonderful computer based telephone systems that you have to speak to. The problem is that they didn't understand my wife's accent. She was nearly driven crazy trying to enunciate in such a way that the computer would understand what she was saying.


Our surname "Haffey" for example, could not be recognised. We have been Norwich Union customers for more than 10 years and the policy had been found based on the policy number, but the voice recognition system could not tie up my wife's pronunciation of "Haffey" with the surname on the policy. Each of the three times she tried she got a maddening, patronising message saying something like "Here's some help. What we are looking for the last name of the policy holder. Please say this name now."

Eventually she got through. We added our son to the policy (which, incidentally, cost dramatically more than previously).

In the past, Norwich Union handled our insurance in one phone call of five to ten minutes. This time Aviva took over an hour of frustration. In the past Norwich Union was reasonably competitive on price. This time Aviva was expensive. In the past, when we renewed our policy Norwich Union had our loyalty because of good treatment. Next time it's likely to be "Aviva - au revoir."

Is the NHS really sacred?

Both Labour and Conservatives believe the NHS budget should remain inviolate. But is this right?

It's difficult to find accurate data on how much money is spent on alternative medicine by the NHS, although estimates are around £500m. But whether it's £50m, £500m or £5bn, the fact is that the money is wasted.

Complementary and Alternative Medicine is medicine that doesn't work. So why are we paying for it? And if we are wasting money here (and we are) how much else is being wasted in this enormous bureaucracy?

In the extraordinarily tough economic times in which we live, no government budget should be inviolate. And wasted money can't be afforded.

I have a complaint

A few years ago I was not happy with Crystal Holidays, so I wrote to them.

Dear Sir

May I apologise for not sending you a handwritten letter? Unfortunately I have a fractured wrist and am dictating this to my wife.

I have been a great supporter of Crystal Holidays since I took my family skiing in the USA in 1997. Determined to repeat this pleasant holiday, we recently picked up your latest ski brochure. After hours poring over it and arranging for a second mortgage, we decided to spend (spend being a key word here) 11 days at Mont Tremblant in Canada.

Fortunately you have telephone booking lines open over the weekend so my wife, Colleen, phoned this morning about 10.30. However, after the phone had rung for a considerable time without it being answered, we had to go to church.

On our return, I decided to read the Sunday Times. I settled down into an armchair, sitting sideways with one armrest supporting my back and my legs slung comfortably over the other. Colleen said she didn't want to spend ages holding on to the phone so I offered to phone your booking line instead.

The phone rang and rang. After a while it was answered by one of these machines. It assured me that calls were being answered in strict rotation, a phrase I've never quite understood. Does it mean your customers go around in circles? Perhaps they are dizzy blondes? However, I was assured I was the first caller in the queue.

So I waited with my neck cricked around the phone. I quite enjoyed the Tchaikovsky muzak your system plays. And many other musical numbers. I pretty nearly worked my way through the paper, including the main News, Sport, three magazines, Business, Travel and Money sections which is really not bad considering that in order to keep a hold on the phone I was reading everything sideways. I suppose the people ahead of me must have been booking very complicated holidays for me to wait so long but memories of happy days in 1997 kept me waiting.

Who knows? Perhaps I was on the very verge of being answered by a human being when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something moving. It was Gary, my son's pet guinea-pig. The funny angle of my neck had, I expect, precariously altered my centre of gravity. The movement of my eyes did the rest and before I knew what was happening, I found myself toppling out of the seat. Gary was in danger of being squashed and I frantically contorted my body to avoid him, catching my right arm on the tea table and smashing it as I fell.

Unfortunately, at this point I dropped the phone, cutting off the call. I didn't really notice however since there was clearly something painfully wrong with my wrist, which the emergency room staff told me later was a complicated fracture.

A friend said I should sue Crystal, but I've never thought suing anyone is a lot of fun, especially as I so much enjoyed holidaying with your company last time. However, it would be nice if you paid my phone bill when it arrives. And get more people answering your phones. You clearly need them.

Yours sincerely

Sean

PS I am sure you will be relieved to know that Gary the guinea-pig is physically fit, having better reactions than I do. Mentally, I can give no reassurance, as he did leave a small smelly stain on the lounge carpet.

I did not hold out much hope of hearing back. However, eight days letter a parcel arrived. It contained the following letter from Andy Perrin, the Managing Director.

Dear Mr Haffey

Thank you for your letter of 20th September regarding your unfortunate fall whilst endeavouring to reach us by phone and please accept my apologies for the delay in replying to you, following a period of absence from the office.

It is an unfortunate fact of life in the ski business that occasionally injuries do occur in the pursuit of sport. I had always thought that the gentleman who sprained his ankle tripping down the aircraft steps on arrival at Salzburg airport in 1983 was the most unfortunate customer I have ever met.

Until now that is.

To sustain a ski-holiday-related injury before so much as placing a booking is surely a record which will never be equalled. Please accept the enclosed in recognition of this truly remarkable feat. (But please remain seated, with both feet firmly on the ground while drinking it!)

With best wishes from all of us here for a full and speedy recovery (please also pass on to Gary) and my own thanks for bringing this matter to my attention.

The serious points of your letter have not been overlooked. I have investigated the telephone waiting time on the Sunday in question and can confirm that we had sufficient staff on duty to handle normal Sunday calls. Unfortunately a combination of an Air Canada strike and the impending hurricane in the Caribbean sent call volumes soaring - hence the delay. We are reviewing emergency staff back-up procedures as a result, and I have arranged for someone to call you to assist with your ski booking, should you still wish to pursue this. Please let me know the call cost when you have it.

Yours sincerely

Andy Perrin

And enclosed with the letter was a lovely bottle of wine. And his PA did call me to help book the holiday. What a fine businessman Mr Perrin is!

John Bercow's Body Language

I was very interested watching John Bercow's acceptance speech as Parliament's Speaker-Elect. This is partly covered on the BBC website (linked in the title above).

He spent most of his time talking to the government benches, with just brief glances at the Tories. Public speakers typically look for friendly faces in their audience and clearly he saw little comfort from the Conservatives. Indeed, he was "dragged" to the Speaker's Seat from within Labour benches.

An odd start for a Tory MP.

Critical Thinking Part 2

In the last couple of decades (and possibly before that) we have been fortunate to have a number of people who have written well about science. Some have just skirted the edge of being difficult for the public to understand, such as Stephen Hawking's Brief History of Time. Others are easy to read but might skirt controversy, such as Ben Goldacre's excellent Bad Science. (In my view, Ben gets away with using emotive language because behind the indignation is scrupulously researched information. If he calls you an idiot, chances are better than even that your age exceeds your IQ.)

Sense About Science is, in its own words, a charitable trust to promote good science and evidence for the public. If you want to know about detox, climate change, radiation, MMR or a host of other subjects, you will find a sensible description of the topic on their web site, which is why it appears in my Links on the right.

But there is danger here.

The Simon Singh and BCA controversy has received wide coverage and I don't plan to cover this ground again here. If you're not familiar with it, click on the link. In essence, he criticised the British Chiropractic Association and they sued.

Sense About Science has begun a campaign in support of Dr Singh.
I've read the preamble and I broadly support it and so I have signed. However, I feel there is a need for caution. While science must be open for rigorous debate if it is to advance, I am concerned that the approach taken by some may invite legal retribution. Ben Goldacre is breezy in style but thorough. He may spawn imitators. He probably already has. While Ben can pull this off, others may go beyond what is acceptable, either morally or legally. I don't believe Simon Singh did this, but it would be a great pity if others did, resulting in a series of court cases resulted which might stifle scientific debate.

Critical Thinking Part 1

I was fortunate to have several excellent lecturers at university. Best of these was Doctor Pat Terry, now a Professor, who taught me Applied Maths for two years. He's the extremely young looking doctor in my graduation photo opposite.

Applied Maths was a tough subject. Pat Terry made it entertaining. For example, when discussing vectors, he told us about a drunk student whose wobbly progress home one evening followed a particular formula. Did the student make it home unscathed, we were asked to calculate.

Equally important, Pat Terry taught us how to think critically. We needed to make sure we understood the question being discussed, how to break it down into sub problems and then make sure these fitted together. We shouldn't take things at face value but rather ask "Is that true?", "What does it mean?" and "How can we prove or disprove it?"

I am not sure Pat taught this deliberately. It was the way he thought and, being a great teacher, he made sure he passed on good techniques. It's made an enormous difference to my life: I'm sure the same is true of thousands of others he taught.

Thirty years later I thought I'd take the opportunity to say "Thank you, Prof."

A Sense of Proportion

It's hard to get away from the subject of MP's expenses nowadays, especially if you, like me, read The Telegraph. Many people I've heard discussing the matter over the last couple of weeks have said "They're even worse than bankers" - is this the ultimate insult?

So I started wondering if this were true.

Over the course of the last few hours, I've worked through a part of The Telegraph web site covering their review of expenses.

Now where you draw the line depends on your own moral judgement and the information available. Where I judged a claim "dodgy" I put it in my spreadsheet. There were many I couldn't make a call on, either because there was insufficient information on the cost or on the nature of the claim from the information on the Telegraph website (there's just one of me; they have dozens working on this).

But I came up with a total of just under £1.5m. I expect this is on the low side: probably two to three times this would be a truer figure.

Then I looked up just one dodgy banker's payment: Fred the Shred's £16m pension pot. And I put these figures into the chart below.

It seems to me that in the furore over MP's expenses, we've lost our sense of proportion. Let's make it clear: I am not making excuses for any of the MP's dodgy claims, but even if we doubled the amounts of MP's' dodgy claims, they would still be dwarfed by just this one banker. The sensible MPs have admitted they got it wrong and apologised and may face further sanction in some cases. The dodgy ones are in many cases still dodging.

But all the MPs' dodgy claims put together look like being well under what Fred the Shred snaffled quite legally. And he's just one banker. Take all the dodgy bankers (a small proportion, I know) and they've made off with staggering amounts of cash while ruining the western economies. The dodgy MPs have cost you and me each a few pennies. They are pennies that by rights ought to be yours and mine, but they are pennies. The dodgy bankers have cost you and me each tens of thousands of pounds.

Brain the size of a ...

I am lucky to live in a large village surrounded by woods and fields and so yesterday I went for a walk with the current Mrs Haffey. It was hot and humid and clearly the insects were loving it. There were lots of greenfly about (I use the term "greenfly" loosely; we're talking about something tiny and green that flies) and it suddenly struck me how astonishing it is that greenfly exists at all.

Somewhere in its tiny brain (and I hope I am not being too rude by describing it in this way) is everything needed for a full existence, if not one which I would regard as complete. I suspect it doesn't have much appreciation of the Arts and its Scientific and Literary achievements are minimal. Yet it leads a full life. It eats out most days, probably every day come to think of it. It gets to fly places, something we humans don't do very well. It reproduces.

All of this is managed with a brain so tiny it weighs a fraction of what just one hair from my head weighs. Now I don't think I am being unduly modest when I tell you that if I cut off a tiny bit of one of my hairs equal in weight to the brain of a greenfly - or even the whole greenfly itself - it wouldn't do much. I may be wrong, but I think the fragment of hair would just lie there.

Isn't nature astonishing?

Welcome home

The Royal Air Force squadrons of Chinook helicopters are based at Odiham. At any one time, a few hundred of the men and women in these squadrons are based overseas, most notably in Afghanistan. Conditions there are tougher than most people can imagine; often they are extremely dangerous. This is implicitly recognised in news programs. So often when you see footage of the war, it's of helicopter pilots dropping off soldiers or collecting the wounded while being fired at. I've met a few of these men and women and they are uniquely courteous, professional and cheerful.

In June last year, Odiham invited the RAF to parade through the village. It was a mostly sunny day, and a happy one. I think many who attended were surprised at how uplifting an occasion it was. Plenty of the servicemen and women were smiling as they marched along. Certainly all of the public were.

They will be parading through again on the morning of Saturday 13th June. If you live nearby, come along and welcome them home!

I hope I die before I get old

Let's play "Let's Pretend" for a moment.

Let's pretend you've retired. You get a state pension of about £95 a week at present, I believe, and on a regular basis this is increased. That's not a lot, but you've probably paid off your house and live frugally. You feel the cold in winter, but the government gives you extra fuel payments from time to time. You're getting frail, but the National Health Service is there to help you out. And so you may not live well, but you are able to survive in not too much discomfort.

This all works well unless you are a British citizen who has retired outside the EU and USA. In that case, things suddenly look a lot worse.

• Your pension is never increased. If you retired a few years ago on £50 a week, that's it for the rest of your life. Tough luck about inflation.
  
• You don't get any winter fuel payments. At this point, dear reader, you're probably thinking "You don't need winter fuel payments if you live in Australia or South Africa." You'd be wrong. In many of these sunny climes, night time temperatures drop to freezing in winter and since double glazing is rare, when it's freezing outside, it's pretty close to freezing inside. And if you've retired to Canada, it gets pretty chilly there too.
  
• There's no National Health Service to fall back on. So just as your health gets frail, you face steeply increasing costs.
  

For years the Government has refused to do anything about this.

Let's look simply at the matter of pensions. There are about 500,000 British pensioners affected by having a fixed pension under this policy. The Government claims that it would be unaffordable to keep increasing their pensions in line with pensions for those living in the UK.

Really? Just how much would it cost? I've seen estimates of less than 1% increase in the budget for the Department of Work and Pensions. How is that unaffordable?

The way we treat the most vulnerable in our society is a measure of our civilisation.

We are treating half a million British pensioners callously.

We should be ashamed.