The Obscurer

The Play's The Thing

I have just come across this article from this week’s Sunday Telegraph reporting the results of a survey of 100 primary schools across the country regarding which play, if any, they are putting on this Christmas. If true the results are pretty shocking, as they reveal that “only one in five schools are planning to perform a traditional nativity play this year” celebrating the birth of Jesus. Yes, that’s twenty percent.

Now, many people will respond to this news with understandable anger; for myself, I just find it very sad and disappointing. I’m no militant, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I really do think that it is in all of our interests if we can join together and try to promote the true meaning of Christmas.

I mean, it’s not difficult, the clue is in the word, isn’t it? Christmas? As in, err, Father Christmas? Heard of him? Now I’m not too sure who this Jesus bloke is, but I don’t see any reason why he should hijack our perfectly good celebration of commercialism, indulgence and the-telly’s-not-quite-as-good-as-it-used-to-be-when-we-were-kids-is-it that more or less keeps the economy spinning. We really must fight to get this massive 20% figure whittled down.

Perhaps this “Jesus” can get his own festival at some other time of the year, rather than gatecrash our party; just as long as it’s well away from our other great celebrations, like Halloween or Burns Night. Sometime in the Spring would be good, that is if the powers that be can actually get their heads together and nail down a single, definite annual date for the thing.

Anyway, for what it’s worth, here is my own survey, which I can absolutely guarantee you is a complete waste of your time. Enjoy.

Please select the one statement below that most closely corresponds with your point of view

Christmas just gets earlier and earlier every year. I mean, I saw a Christmas tree in Woolworths in September this year. September! What next? Well, August, presumably. It’s ridiculous.
Christmas has effectively been outlawed by the politically correct do-gooder liberal elite who run this country. I read in the Daily Mail that the police arrested someone for possession of tinsel the other week. It’s ridiculous.
I moan about both of the above points, despite the fact that they contradict each other. You may have seen me on BBC 2’s “Grumpy Old Christmas” which they broadcast in November, for God’s sake, and which is banned. I’m ridiculous.

Vision On

There appears to be something of a consensus in the air, that these are grim times indeed for Labour MPs; no doubt I’d feel the same if I were one, but I’m not so sure. As each new day seems to release a fresh embarrassment or disastrous development, it really must be the very best time to be a government minister embroiled in a scandal; before the ink has dried on the newspapers cataloguing your failings there seems an inevitability that there will be another mess along in a minute, appearing just around the corner and bumping you off the front page. Take Jacqui Smith for example; just a couple of weeks ago, during the furore over the 5000 illegal immigrants employed in security positions, she faced a welter of criticism and her job was on the line. By last week however, as she triumphantly announced a successful crackdown on firearms, the previous issue had been forgotten and her position seemed unassailable. Yes, these are surely great times to be a Labour MP; less so if you are the Labour PM.

It is also a great time to be a “political blogger” like that Guido Dale fellow, as your blog pretty much writes itself; why bother to flog a dead horse failing to raise the profile of some gossipy shite of no interest beyond your (impressive by blog standards, trivial in the grand scheme of things) readership? Now you can continue to undermine the monolithic MSM by fearlessly reporting the latest twist, turn or insider information the very minute you watch it on the Daily Politics or Newsnight. Sorted.

I know this isn’t a particularly fashionable view to hold, but I do feel a little bit sorry for Gordon Brown in this all. After all his reputation for being a Macavity figure always absent when things go awry, in the event all manner of disasters have dropped on his toes since day one, most of which I don’t think he can convincingly be blamed for (although in fairness, nor can he really take so much of the credit for the competent handling of the floods, foot and mouth, terrorism and so on, but he does, continually.) Some attempts to make him appear culpable for the Northern Rock and Child Benefit incidents seem to be wishful thinking on the part of some commentators, while the more accurate criticisms of Brown – that he lacks a “vision”, is an uncharismatic Commons performer, that he does not possess Blair’s seamless ability to spin in a lawyerly manner – aren’t bad qualities at all in my book. In truth the tipping point in the criticism of Brown was over his (perfectly sensible) decision not to hold an election; before that, in the eyes of the media and public opinion he could almost do no wrong whatever problems came his way, the focus was instead on David Cameron as he suffered over grammar schools and had the very nerve to fulfil an appointment in Rwanda while his constituency was flooded. After Brown’s non-election call it now appears he can do no right, and events have given him little option but to roll with the punches at every PMQs. It is a quite surreal turnaround.

It has become conventional wisdom to say that if you don’t have a “vision” then you need to govern on competence. Now, I would have thought competence wasn’t an optional extra, and that in its absence a “vision” shouldn’t be suffiecient to paper over the cracks, but anyway competence has been in pretty short supply recently; in all fairness, though, I find it hard to lay the blame for incidents like the bizarre security practices at the HMRC directly at the door of Number 10. At least the most recent story over party funding can be clearly associated with the Labour party itself, but for me it is still not enough; these latest errors are more operational or administrative matters than policy matters, and it is the latter that I think we should concentrate on. To a large extent the Tories were kicked out in 1997 due to sleaze and Black Wednesday, but they were terrible reasons for voting in Labour; the Tories had provided far more damning evidence for a change of government during their period in office. So it is with Gordon Brown, that rather than criticise him for being buffeted by events largely beyond his control he should instead be in the firing line for his continued push for ID cards regardless, and his baseless proposal to extend the period for detaining suspected terrorists beyond the current 28 days.

But who cares about that rubbish when we have a scandal? Not the papers, that’s for sure, as they act in accordance with their bizarre sense of priorities; I dare say I’m not the first to notice that judging by the media’s reaction the very worst thing the Sudanese government has engaged in recently is to have gaoled a teacher for naming a teddy Mohammed. Is that all? I must give credit, mind, to the Sudanese judicial system whose actions have been admirably swift, if crazy; but then if you do insist on crazy laws then you can get crazy situations, both abroad and back at home. And the seemingly bizarre incident of Samina Malik and the legislation behind it is for me a far more valid criticism of this government than some of the more newsworthy recent incidents.

Regarding these recent disasters I actually think Gordon Brown is making the best of a bad job. In admitting wrongdoing and (so far) co-operating with the police over the funding issue he is acting very differently to the way Blair behaved and that is refreshing; although you could say he has little choice I’m not sure that’s true. If you do want to criticise Brown it should be over the stupid things he has actually said – such as the “British jobs for British workers” quote, whatever that means – rather than the fact that he lacks a sense of humour. Criticise his government for drift by all means, but not because of an “impression of drift”, as I have read numerous times; that is as nonsensical as the government’s assertion that we should create laws to “send a signal” to this, that or the other, when we should only create laws for a definite purpose. And again, the carefree and thoughtless way this government apporaches legislation is another, more important matter that we should be criticising them for more often.

Is there any chance we can debate genuine matters of policy and their effects anytime soon? Perhaps we will see a media wind-down up to Christmas and a new broom for the New Year; but while the funding row still seems to have legs, and God knows what other revelation are still to come out, I wouldn’t bet on it.

PostScript; this post has been sat in my drafts folder since Friday, when a trip to the pub, a shop at the Christmas markets, goddamn work and other things prevented me from giving it a final read through. So here – with a few minor amendments due to the intervening chronology, and in the spirit of the Labour party’s current “get the bad stuff out in the open” policy – it is. Now; let’s click “publish” and release the trackback spam.

Strange Kind Of Urgency

So. This morning we’re trying to get my son ready for school, and not unusually it seems to be taking ages; every time his mother or I turn our backs he stops putting on his jumper, or his socks, he stops fastening his shoes, and when we return we instead find him staring at the TV, or looking at a book, or fiddling with the In The Night Garden figures his sister received for her birthday (yes, one year old yesterday; isn’t that a pip!)

Hard to blame him, I suppose; I too would be taking things at my own sweet pace had I a choice, but the fact is that I don’t. The reason that my wife and I are rushing around while he ambles along is that he has no concept of time. While for us a glance at the clock spurs us on there is no such pressure on a child; while for us running late has real potential consequences, a child is unaware of any responsibility. For my son Mummy and Daddy are forever there to sort things out, and he always eventually gets dressed and to school (more or less) on time regardless. As a result, as my son is getting ready, and unlike his parents, he feels no sense of urgency.

No sense of urgency! Now I remember using that phrase recently in a different context, but when was it? Let me think now…mmm…now then… think, think, think…erm…of course! That’s it! I said it umpteen times last week to describe the attitude of the players as England were contriving to throw away that vital football match against Croatia that confirmed I will have to support another nation – probably Spain – in Euro 2008. Then I used the phrase a number of times the following day too, during the post-mortem at work and in the pub.

And now I remember another couple of things, from a few years back; of Razor “Neil” Ruddock describing how baffling real life seemed once his career as a professional footballer was over because the simplest things such as phoning his GP had previously been done for him; how David Beckham once explained that the reason his car’s tax disc was missing was because he expected someone else would have sorted it out. Are these I wonder examples of a sort of arrested development, a delayed adulthood on the part of our professional footballers? Could this extended childhood explain that lack of urgency on display last week, so that even when the spectators in the stands and on their settees where anxiously staring at the clock, our spoiled and pampered representatives on the pitch meandered on regardless, their lives devoid of any real consequence shy of losing a trip abroad next summer, safe as they were in the knowledge that it would be left to others to pay the price or pick up the pieces of their failure to qualify?

And if this “childishness” analogy is an accurate assessment of the evidence we have all witnessed, then I am left to ponder on that other frequently heard excuse for the poor performances of our teams abroad when they so often fail to bring home the spoils; that our footballers play far too many games, that the rigours of our domestic leagues wear out our talented players, and that you can clearly see from the way they play that our lads are simply too tired. Interesting; because as every parent knows when they offer an apology for their child’s behaviour, sometimes when we say “I think s/he’s a little bit tired” we are purely dealing in euphemism.

In The Lost And Found (Honky Bach)

A quick word about what is – at the time of writing – the Government’s latest utter balls up; which is to say the personal and banking details of all the recipients of Child Benefit getting lost in the post. It goes without saying that this business highlights some really lamentable security arrangements over at HMRC, but as just about everybody else already has said it there is little point in me piling in and echoing the point. But beyond the obvious I am interested in the statements made by the media and opposition MPs saying that those whose details have been lost are now living in the shadow of a fear of something scary and a wee bit fraudy; because as I am one of the 25 million involved I can say for sure that I’m certainly not that bothered.

Why? Simply because we have all given out our personal details to countless organisations in our time, and whenever we do so we increase the possibility that this data can fall into the hands of unscrupulous people and be used fraudulently. In one of my previous jobs I had everyday access to name and address details, dates of birth, bank account and credit card numbers and all manner of other personal information that our 8 million customers had entrusted to us. While I didn’t have the technical know how to download the entire contents of this database, and while trawling through the system actively searching for personal details could have left an incriminating audit trail, it would still have been child’s play to copy down personal information as and when I accessed it for a legitimate purpose, if I had so wished. I wouldn’t have been able to get 25 million records in a single shot, but I could easily have copied down twenty-odd a day which would have been quite enough to be going along with.

As such I feel that if my financial security has been further compromised by this latest breach I think it is only by a negligible amount; which doesn’t make it alright of course, or mean it doesn’t matter, but it does perhaps put things in perspective. If anything I feel a certain safety in numbers; were I to find out that mine were just one out of ten or so sets of banking details that had gone missing then perhaps I would now be checking my statements for suspiciously large payments to Mercedes Benz and British Airways and look into changing my account number. As it is, the fact that I am just one lost soul in a sea of millions of others makes it seem all the more unlikely that I will fall foul of some specific nefarious deception (he says, not so much tempting fate as tweaking its nose.)

Whenever we hand over our personal information the chances are that we are giving at least one person the opportunity to misuse it. A belief in most people’s inherent honesty, and the fact that when volunteering our details we usually benefit by receiving a good or service in exchange, makes it seem worth our while. Which brings me, somewhat inevitably, to the matter of ID cards. This latest fiasco appears to have just confirmed most people in their pre-existing view about the proposed scheme and the database associated with it, and I am no different; those in favour say that ID cards will protect against identity fraud, while those agin point out that we cannot trust our Government to keep this data safe in the first place. That latter view is the one I share and which is surely the right one; because whether it is mislaid through human error, compromised by poor security systems or quite legitimately accessed by Government employees just doing their job, there is nothing I can see to stop the information on a national database from potentially falling into the hands of the criminally minded. When we provide our bank details to a private company we only do so if we believe there is a good reason to; as the Government has yet to offer anything that bears even a passing resemblance to a good reason for collating all our disparate data into a convenient one-stop shop for the fraudster, for the time being they can fuck right off.

Terry’s All Gold

Yesterday Stephen Gerrard joined the fray in calling for some sort of quota system restricting the number of foreign players in the Premier League. What can have influenced his judgment? Could it be the sheer mediocrity of many of the foreigners he has played alongside at Liverpool that has blinded him to the valuable contribution many of the imports have made? Would he, I wonder, be as well disposed towards some sort of quota system should it scupper a future move to AC Milan or Real Madrid, were Italy and Spain to also introduce some measures to “protect” their national teams?

There certainly appears to be a groundswell of opinion growing surrounding the matter of imposing quotas on foreign players in football. This week Michel Platini and Steve Coppell joined Sepp Blatter, Alex Ferguson and others in supporting restrictions on foreigners in the game, mainly on the grounds that it will help the development of indigenous talent. This is bollocks, of course, and the matter shouldn’t need detain us for long. Do we really think that those English players who do break through to Premier League level are anything other than vastly improved by the fact that they play alongside and against superior foreign talent? It seems so blindingly obvious to me, but so it goes. Presumably those calling for quotas are sincere in believing that such moves will remove those foreigners currently blocking out our native talent and so allow more Wayne Rooneys to grace the top flight of the game, but that begs the question “why are the foreign players here in the first place?” I am equally as certain that such moves will just guarantee our teams are cluttered up with more Ben Thatchers and similar and so protect their exalted positions. Certainly, looking back to a time before the influx of foreigners into the game I can’t exactly remember a surplus of homegrown Rooneys; rather my memory is littered with grim visions of a legion of Thatchers, and sub-Thatchers. It seems clear to me that regarding the quality of the players – if not the entertainment – we are much better off these days (and incidentally, my antipathy towards Ben is purely down to his very average performances while playing for my club, and not because of his surname, although that probably didn’t engender my instant respect.)

Perhaps more complex is the whole matter of players’ wages, but there was a similar almost-consensus the other week when, with David Beckham now more or less out of sight and out of mind, John Terry assumed the mantel of being the footballer-most-likely to be used to criticise footballers’ salaries in the Premier League. Sports minister Gerry Sutcliffe apparently “slammed” the “obscene” salary of John Terry and others; although as is often the case when it is reported than someone “slams” something, rather than making an orchestrated attack on the subject Sutcliffe probably just fielded a reasonable question by providing a reasonable answer. What was the response from the very highly paid world of football to the question of whether John Terry and other footballers are too highly paid? Well, Gordon Taylor of the PFA said, “every labourer is worth his hire and Mr Abramovich thinks he’s worth it.” Chelsea boss Avram Grant countered, “everybody likes to speak about the money of the footballers. Why does nobody speak about singers who get more money in one year than any player?” Manchester United’s Alex Ferguson similarly said, “there are some tennis players and golfers earning enormous amounts of money. Is that wrong?” while Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger correctly pointed out that “we are in an economy where the company decides who pays who and how much and we have to respect that.” All is true, but all avoid the question of whether or not football players’ wages are obscene, and the simple answer to that is “yes, of course they are.” Or, if not exactly obscene, then certainly a bit daft.

Personally I have no major objection to the top players earning such daft sums. There is a shed load of money in football at the moment, and when you get a unique talent like a Wayne Rooney being competed for by a number of clubs with pots of cash then there is only one way the price is going to go; that’s just the way it is. I’m actually much less comfortable with journeymen like the aforementioned Ben Thatcher who, while poorer than Rooney, is still mega-rich. Despite having played for many teams, I’ll bet no football fan has ever welcomed Thatcher on arrival at their club, or mourned his passing; his existence in the Premier League is seemingly more down to every team needing 11 players and the league needing 20 teams; and he’s not all that bad you know, I mean I suppose he’ll do. Quite why such a bog standard talent should benefit from being (theoretically) in the same market as someone like Rooney I’m not too sure, but it seems he does. This is something I think is more obscene, if obscene is the right word; Thatcher being quite rich, rather than Rooney or Terry being stupidly rich.

But even regarding top players like John Terry, I do think it is interesting to consider just what forces have led them to their massive income. There is hard work obviously, the drive and ambition to succeed that will have led other similarly gifted or more talented players to fall by the wayside, and that is to be applauded; however hard work is only a part of it. Putting in the same hours as a cricketer, or a chartered surveyor, would result in a far more meagre reward for Terry, no matter how hard he worked; part of the reason for Terry’s wealth is the good fortune that comes from being able in a field that has so much money swirling around it. To that stroke of luck you can add another other stoke of luck, that of Terry having a natural talent for football in the first place; no matter how hard I work at my football I will never be good enough to play anywhere other than my back garden, even the local rec is beyond me. And returning to all that hard work Terry must have put in to get where he is today, even then that “drive and ambition” I mentioned earlier must surely be part nature, part nurture. In summary, then, Terry’s salary is down to being blessed with a natural talent (luck), in a very well rewarded sport (luck) alongside his own efforts (partly luck). Well good luck to him I say.

What to do? Well in the first instance, nothing. I would much prefer for Terry and others to earn the money they do than for there to be some individual salary cap or maximum wage, either in sport or in the wider economy; but this is where taxation comes in, and where for me one of the better cases can be made for a redistributive – or at least a more progressive – tax system. Critics of income redistribution often deride their opponents as envious whingers who moan childishly about redressing society’s “unfairness”; in contrast it is said that taking from the hardworking and giving to the feckless is, well, “unfair”. But as I have said, being hard working is only one of the variables that has led John Terry to his riches, and I don’t think that footballers are a unique case; luck can come in many forms. It is worth saying at this point that I am far from convinced that tax should be used for redistributive purposes, to simply take from the rich to hand to the poor; rather I can see the sense in the rich paying proportionally more in tax than the poor simply because they can more easily afford to, although I concede that in practice they are probably pretty much the same thing.

Have we come all this way just to read a defence of progressive taxation? Well yes, I reckon, it certainly looks that way to me, that and as an excuse for me to make use of the title “Terry’s All Gold”; but sometimes I just feel that the self-evident needs to be evidenced, or something, and we’ve had fun along the way, haven’t we? All I guess I’m trying to say, if I’m even trying to say anything, is that while some people may complain about Premier League salaries, the alternative to footballers – yes, and singers, tennis players, golfers and others – earning vast sums seems to involve unpleasant things like dictatorship and authoritarianism; far better to happily let such people earn their silly money in the first place. But then, rather than bluster that they simply deserve their subsequent wealth, they should accept their good fortune and realise that it’s not unreasonable for them to pay back through taxation a share of what they owe the system that allowed them to earn such absurd amounts of money in the first place. Fair’s fair.

Oh, and as for the matter of quotas for foreigners; footballers – and all other workers while we’re at it – should pretty much be able to work wherever the hell they like; don’t you think?