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A Classic Evening

I invited Steve and Jo and Claudine and Jacques to eat this evening because of, rather than in spite of, the fact that they don't know each other. They should because Claudine and Jacques, who are from St Malo but have a summer residence here, are both very receptive to English and hearing English points of view. I hope that the evening may have made a lasting connection; it went on until after midnight so it may well have done.

Among the things we discussed during the evening were the apparent disappearance of common sense from everyday life (which I've discussed too often to enlarge upon here) and attitudes towards Europe. Jacques in particular seemed to feel that the English didn't appreciate enough the achievements that the EU had made. I think he's probably right; we don't often say publicly how important it is that a war between major European states now seems inconceivable nor how useful are inter-state reciprocity agreements on such matters as residence, free flow of labour, tax and access to medical facilities. What seems to separate us, to some extent, is the EU predilection to legislate everything, down to the shape of a banana or the milk used to make cheese. The French attitude to this seems roughly to be that you have to expect this of bureaucrats and you simply ignore it if you don't like it. The problem in the UK is that we implement the legislation whatever, which to me seems a problem to a large extent of our own making. As in my own first love, football, we have to realise that we don't own the game and have to learn to play it in a different way.

The intractable problem here seems to me to be that administrators will always find something to administer unless you stop them; after all, that is what they do and what their job security depends on. And that, irrespective of other effects, is an enormous cost. Telling them to stop, and create legislation only if absolutely necessary, threatens their very livelihood. But that is what someone, sometime, is going to have to do.

Even within the UK and within UK remits, we badly need some brave politician to say that new legislation can be created only if it removes more legislation than it creates. None has yet been able to do that.

One point that occurred to me subsequently, regarding the UK, had to do with ability to negotiate. In public ownership/privatisation discussions previously with French friends the friends have all insisted that their bureaucrats, maligned as they often are, are very tough negotiators when it comes to a deal with a private company. The UK bureaucrats are clearly not in the same league, as numerous rip-offs testify. The point occurred to me because Jo's daughter, chasing a passport application, had been unable to contact the (privatised) Passport Agency on the advertised number; the number was always engaged for an unacceptable time. It mirrored my experience in contacting privatised utilities after my mother's death. So why, as part of the contract, wasn't there a service agreement that stated, for instance, that all telephone enquiries had to be responded to by a person within, say, 30 seconds? As all such service numbers are only too eager to tell you, calls may be monitored for performance purposes. To me such a service agreement seems elementary, as it does that companies running privatised public services are saving significant costs by choosing to ignore customer service. But maybe it takes an experienced negotiator to spot that and plug the hole.

Service Wooden Spoon

I've already recounted the problems I have had over my mother's death in dealing with Southern Electricity. To add insult to injury, I today received a letter from them stating that they would be delighted to continue their service (?????.....) to me in my new home; in France, where they don't operate. I think I can safely decline their generous offer. But I am inclined to wonder what possible imbecile can be managing Southern Electricity's Customer Services.

Boules

Daniel persuaded me to enter the boules tournament being played in the village this afternoon so I duly went along for the 3.30pm start which, as I had suspected, didn't actually occur until 4.30pm. But I'm glad I let Daniel persuade me because I played well and ended runner-up and 20 euros richer. Hardly a king's ransom I have to admit but 20 euros and a light-weight jacket from my last two tournaments is not a bad return on afternoons spent pleasantly. Last time I won with Daniel, this time I had to beat him in the final game.