alextheblue

MIND. It’s Okay To Not Be Okay. Until It’s Not!

Wellness. Mindfulness. Well-being. Wholeness. Words that are used a lot lately, but they all basically allude to the same thing. Mental Health. It’s the hot topic of the moment and you can hardly turn on the news here in the UK without it being mentioned at least once. Apparently, we are facing a mental health crisis with more people than ever addressing a problem of some kind. We are also being told that now more than ever, there is help in place and we should reach-out to access that help. We are told not to suffer in silence, not to suffer alone, there are people there to help. All sounds good right? So, what’s the problem.

I have vacillated back and forth whether or not to voice my opinion on this subject as I can only really convey my own experience. Plus, this blog was never meant to be about myself. Also, I want to make it clear that this is not meant as a device to evoke sympathy or elicit a reaction of concern. What I am now about to relay is purely a means to try and explain my experiences and relay events as they happened to me. If you think that I’m trying to set myself aside as being unique, or that no one else will be able to appreciate the things that I experience, then you’re wrong. You are wrong because we are all unique. All of us are different in our own way and we are all only able to experience life through our own eyes. It is this uniqueness that is our commonality. The thread that ties us all together.

I have always felt different from everyone else, slightly out of kilter, almost a half-step out of time with everyone else. I’ve never really dwelled on it, as I assumed that everyone feels this way. I also didn’t realise that the coping mechanisms that I put into place that help me deal with everyday life are different to how other people cope with their lives. That is until a few years ago.

To give some context, I am in my late fifties, and it wasn’t until about 10-years ago, that I realised that the way I experience the world, is very different to how most people experience it. Don’t get me wrong, I am certainly not alone in my world’s-eye view, but it has been by connecting with other people similar to myself that has helped me to realise just how different my view is. Let me elucidate.

I have always preferred my own company and have felt awkward in the company of others. Conversation and small talk that come easily to others, always seems just out of my grasp. I have always struggled with what to say, how to start a conversation and what to say next in order to keep the flow of conversation going. Instead, uncomfortable silences seem to be my go-to backup. As a child, my silence was always seen as shyness and whilst this was true to a degree, it was more down to the fact that I just didn’t know what to say. Instead, I chose to say nothing.

I have aways had a way of doing things, an order in which things must be done and if not done so, my world will feel extremely “off”, out of kilter. These are things not driven by superstition or some unexplainable compulsion, but by sense and reasoning. My sense and reasoning. And when explained to others, my reasoning sometimes seems to make sense to them as well. For example, when I wash up after a meal, the cutlery has to be washed first, followed by glasses and cups, then plates and finally pots, pans and baking trays. Done any other way and you may as well wash everything in mud. My rationale. The cutlery is what conveys the food from the plate into your mouth and hence needs to be the cleanest. Therefore, it is washed up first when the water is at its cleanest and hottest. And so, it continues. Glasses and cups touch your lips, so they are next. Plates and bowls however, whilst touching the food, do not come into contact with your person and therefore can come next. And so on. Oh, and I won’t use a dishwasher, but I have a totally different set of reasons for this!! Overthinking? Not to me.

This sense of order and reasoning permeates into all areas of my life and each and every thing I do can be explained and rationalised.

However, the biggest clue to indicate that I may perceive the world differently to others lies in the way that my senses work. Again, this is something that I wasn’t aware was different for me as again I had assumed that everyone’s senses worked the same.

When doing an activity such as reading a book, I am also able to hold a conversation, watch the telly and even listen to some music and I am able to pay equal attention to each activity. If you were to quiz me on any one single activity, I can accurately relay to you what transpired. I can tell you the song that was playing and even relay the lyrics, I can recount the plot of the program being broadcast on the telly, as well as keep up with the conversation being directed my way. I can also recount in detail the passage I had just read in my book. And this isn’t because I switch from one activity to the other, “stop-starting” as I go. I am able to engage in all activities simultaneously. My wife thinks nothing of starting a conversation in the middle of me reading a book and doesn’t question how I am able to ask her relevant questions, all the while maintaining my reading speed and comprehension.

At school, teachers would often chastise me for absent-mindedly gazing out the window and accuse me of not paying attention. When asked to relay back what the teacher had just said to the class, I would be able to do so with clarity and accuracy. On occasion, I would be asked to come to the front of the class and demonstrate on the board what the teacher had just taught to the class, clearly in an attempt to catch me out. Each time I was able to explain what had just been said, and in a maths class once, I was able to complete a problem that the teacher had begun to demonstrate on the board.

This ability to be able to multitask in such a way manifests itself in other areas of my life. I seem to be able to notice things that others miss. Little details here and there, things that may appear insignificant at first, but later on prove to be useful. On entering a building such as a bar or a restaurant, I can quickly work out where all the exits are, who is in the premises, which is the quickest way to leave should something happen and where any potential dangers lie.

I will notice things in TV programmes and films, small incidental things that appear in the background that seem to be of no consequence. I will very often notice things that go against the programme’s continuity – an actor will appear with a watch on from one camera angle, only for it to disappear when the camera angle changes. Pictures that suddenly disappear from a backdrop and extras in the background who are clean shaven one moment and then have a 5’o clock shadow the next. One of my “party tricks” is to be able to identify the make of a car by only its headrest. And the list goes on. My brain seems to be able to assimilate and retain lots of information and all at the same time.

At first glance, this appears to be a great asset, and I will admit, it does have its advantages. But, and this is a very big but, it does have huge disadvantages. I feel as though I can see, hear and smell everything all at once and at the same time. In a public space where there are lots of people, I can hear all of the conversations all at the same volume. Add to that things like background music, kids screaming and crying, incidental noises such as things being dropped, dragged and scrapped, traffic noise and the basic hum of everyday life and it can soon be an overwhelming cacophony of noise. But not a blended overall blaring noise. Each noise is individual and recognised on its own merit. Each noise registering with my brain and fighting for its place at the front.

As you can imagine, sometimes this can be overwhelming. Everything seems louder, brighter, more in focus and generally just more – well, present is the best way I can describe it. Whereas other people seem to be able to prioritise which conversation they will focus on and then mute the rest, my brain wants to hear them all equally at the same time. And this goes for everything else as well. Rather than focus on pertinent details, I focus on everything.

I recently read something by somebody who appears to “suffer” from the same thing, and he described his experiences in much the same way. He finished off by writing, “and I feel my sock all the time.” I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I don’t think I had ever really considered that what I feel and experience was different to everyone else, but here I was reading about someone who experiences almost the exact same things that I too experience. And yes, I feel my sock all the time as well.

So, what has any of this to do with mindfulness and wellbeing? Good question! Whist I have only recently become aware that my brain seems to process things in a different way to everyone else, I have always been aware that I don’t seem to be able to relate to the world around me and the people in it the same way that others do. As a result, I have implemented a number of coping mechanisms to help me navigate the world that is my everyday life. On the whole they seem to work very well, and I appear to be able to assimilate myself into everyday life almost seamlessly. However, these mechanisms can be lengthy and intricate and can also be very time consuming. As a result, they can also be very tiring and at the end of a particularly trying day, I can feel exhausted. String a number of these days together in succession and I feel ready to give up.

And so, it was approximately two-years ago, I had a period of extremely trying days that lead me to the conclusion that I could no longer cope. Perhaps, no longer wanted to cope might be more accurate. Everything felt tiresome and forced. There was no joy in anything and things that I had once looked forward to no longer held any appeal.

But weren’t men supposed to ask for help now. Talk about things. Feelings and the like. So, ask for help it was then as the alternative didn’t bear thinking about, although I could barely think about anything else. With trepidation, I checked the doctor’s website and requested an appointment via email. That seemed a much better option, as I could now relay the reason for my appointment without having to speak to a human being. The form was more detailed than I had expected, but I realised that honesty was the only way if I had any hope of receiving help.

One question in particular had me pausing for rather a long time. “Have you had thoughts of harming yourself of ending your own life?” Two options, two tick-boxes. Yes. No. So binary. So, matter of fact. So, what! I answered honestly, hit send and waited.

I wasn’t sure how quickly I would receive a response, or whether I would receive one at all, but within the hour, my phone rang and it was indeed the doctor. I was asked some more questions, many similar to ones I had already filled out online. Upon completion, I was asked if it would be convenient if a doctor called me that morning, or if I preferred, I could visit the surgery and talk to someone in person. I confirmed that a call would be fine and thanking the disembodied voice at the end of the phone, I ended the call to await the “arrival” of the doctor. I only had to wait twenty minutes.

So began a series of calls and appointments that resulted in a course of counselling. Cognitive Behavioural Treatment – CBT. It was deemed that I was suffering from low mood, more commonly know as depression. The counselling would equip me with the tools and methods to be able to identify the triggers to these low moods and then implement techniques to be able to suppress and eventually beat them. Luckily, I was already familiar with CBT as I had previously done some extensive reading on the subject some years earlier. My mother was a counsellor, and my daughter has a psychology degree and in order to be able to assist both with their studies, I made it my place to familiarise myself with the subject matter (being very well informed is another of my coping techniques – I read a LOT!). Whilst I could see the benefit of CBT counselling, I had my reservations as to whether it would be of help to me. I didn’t feel that I was suffering from depression per se, my “low mood” was more caused by my inability to be able to cope with the world around me in the same way that others seemed to be able to do. My coping mechanisms were exhausting, and I no longer felt that they were sustainable.

The counselling sessions began and I embraced them with an open mind. I pushed any preconceptions that I may have had to one side and tackled each session and subsequent exercise with the goal that I would gain some benefit from it. Unfortunately, CBT wasn’t for me. Don’t get me wrong, for people whose depression is driven by extreme anxiety, or PTSD, or by catastrophising for example, I can see how it would be a great help and if the techniques are applied frequently and diligently, I can see it making a huge difference. Fake it to make it, right! However, my brain just ‘aint wired that way! The sessions, ended, I stopped using the supporting app and well, that was that. I had fallen off the conveyor belt that is NHS mental health services, and nobody seemed to know how to put me back on. My 9-question patient questionnaire “score” was still worryingly high (or should that be low), but the only help that I could now be offered was to extend my sick note.

Meanwhile, my employer was regularly checking in on me and whilst they were saying all the right things – “of, course we will support you”; “anything we can do to help”, etc., but at the same time these statements were interlaced with things like, “but you are letting the team down”; “other people are having to take up the slack”. But procedure was followed, Human Resources were engaged and an appointment with an external Occupational Health specialist was arranged.

Ironically, this appointment turned out to be a breakthrough moment for me, as the doctor I spoke to was extremely thorough and through her intelligent and probing questions, she seemed to have a good understanding of the problems I was experiencing. I was informed that I would receive her report the following day and this wouldn’t be shared with my employer until I had confirmed my approval. The report arrived as advised and I read through with trepidation. As I had suspected from my one-hour session with the doctor, her assessment was extremely insightful and at the risk of sounding extremely cliched, it was as though she had read my mind. But there was one phrase in particular that stopped me in my tracks and I had to re-read it three times before I realised what I was reading.

“There appears to be an underlying element of neurodiversity, and an assessment may help him to access tailored support”

A second session with the Occupational Health doctor was arranged and a second report recommended that my GP should refer me for an assessment, as in their opinion, my depression was as a result of a lifetime of managing these symptoms of neurodiverse behaviour without support.

For a moment I felt validated, I felt heard, but more importantly I felt relief. After a lifetime of struggle, I was going to receive help.

Then reality hit home.

My employer continued with their “support” and after two more meetings, I was offered a settlement package to exit the company. An extremely verbose legal document was sent to me, and I was advised to seek legal counsel. A derisory remuneration package was offered, but I was also told that I had the option to remain in their employ and I would be offered “continued support”.

It’s hard to feel supported when you are also being told that you’re letting the team down and your colleagues are struggling because of you. So, I sought legal advice, signed their severance agreement and accepted their payment without even a mention of a counteroffer. Money has very little relevance when you have no plans for the future.

And there I was. Back at square one. Actually, my square was in negative equity as in addition to everything else, I didn’t have any gainful employment.

Apologies, this has been a bit of a lengthy diatribe. You could also be forgiven if you feel that it has been a bit indulgent and self-pitying. I can assure you that this was never my intention. Quite the opposite in fact. As I mentioned at the start of this post, you can barely turn on the TV (please feel free to replace with, streaming device of your choice) without being told that we are in a mental heath crisis. Many charities and support organisations are doing their best to raise awareness and we are bombarded with the latest marketing speak – “it’s okay to not be okay”.

Is it really okay though? Really? I would argue that it isn’t. It’s easier to pay lip service to something than actually do anything real and meaningful. After having reached out myself, I now find myself no further forward. I reached out and asked for help and I did receive help – it just wasn’t right for me. I felt like a drowning man who had just been handed a tissue. Well, at least my nose isn’t running any more. That’s a comfort as I go under for a third time.

I opened up to the people around me and whilst I could feel their sympathy, nobody really knew what to do. After all, I was the dependable one, the problem solver, the fixer. Who fixes the fixer? I turned to my employers as I felt that I at least owed them honesty if nothing else. In return I was made to feel like a burden, weighing everyone else down. They too offered a solution, although, money is seldom the answer.

For the first time in my life, I tried to explain to others how I felt, how I try to cope and how it impacts on me. The reactions ranged from confusion to disbelief to rejection. Sometimes I could almost hear people’s eyes rolling into the back of their heads as they failed to conceal the frown on their foreheads. They may as well have had a neon sign over their heads. “Not another one claiming to be suffering from depression and anxiety”. In each case, the point I was trying to make was misunderstood and misconstrued.

But that’s okay. I can deal with myself. My real concern is just how many other people are in the same position. How many others have also been failed by their doctors, let down by their employers and most importantly, ignored by the people around them.

So, at the end of the day, is it okay not to be okay. It isn’t – from my experience. At least, not for everyone.

The answer?

I don’t know.

Apologies, if you were expecting words or wisdom that came to me in an epiphany as a result of my experiences. Maybe, if you’re reading this and you have had the same, or a similar experience, you can cling onto a grain of solace in the fact that you are not alone. Sometimes, knowing that the path that we walk in life, we don’t walk alone, no matter how alone it feels at times, is enough to give us the strength to take that next step.

And what now for me.

My coping mechanisms are back in place, and I will carry on until they stop working again. I have learnt that it is foolish to plan beyond this.

Does this help?

Not really, but what else can you do.

Oh! I can still feel my sock all the time…..

Bloody Men!! Misogynists The Lot of ‘Em!

Now, before I start, I should declare that I am a man myself and this is not going to be a vehement attack on all the males of the species. No, that’s not one bandwagon that I will jumping onto the back of. Neither is this an argument in defence of men, or a rallying cry claiming that men are receiving an unfair press. Instead, I want to relay an event that happened to me recently that upset me deeply, but more importantly, worried me about the long-term effect that “men bashing” may have on our society as a whole.

Before I get into that, I want to clarify a couple of things. Firstly, I am certainly not trying to claim that there isn’t a problem with men’s attitudes towards women and girls. Neither will I suggest that more shouldn’t be done to educate men and boys in order to try and rectify these prevailing attitudes, especially where violence committed against women is concerned. What I want to try and convey, is why I think that the vilification and demonising of ALL men and boys isn’t the answer. By pointing the finger at a single demographic (and a very large one at that!), we are reducing the number of people that are able to help solve this problem.

Apologies, if you feel I am prevaricating somewhat, but please allow me to ramble a little further, as I want to try and paint a bit of a clearer picture as to who I am and what my background is, as I feel it will be relevant when I come to relaying my upsetting episode.

As I mentioned previously, I am a male of the species. I am also a husband, a father and a grandfather (I married young!). I am the extremely proud father of two beautifully intelligent women and the equally proud grandfather of two granddaughters that I dote on. I have been married to my long-suffering wife for thirty-seven years and we still tell each daily how much we love each other. More importantly, we mean it. Heck, even our dog is female! I’m surrounded, and I love it!

I was raised by a strong mother who wanted her little boy to grow up being respectful to women. To be respectful to all people. She taught me that there were many differences between men and women, but difference doesn’t mean weakness. The lessons that she taught me stuck with me and I have tried to pass these onto my daughters. I tried to explain to my daughters, that whilst I couldn’t fully comprehend some of the problems that they will encounter as I am not a woman myself, I am able to empathise, or I will at least try to. I explained to them how they will be perceived and treated by some men and how best to deal with these situations when they arise. I have always tried to reinforce to them that no man is better than them purely because they are male. However, one of my daughters was shocked one day when she realised that these preconceptions could work both ways. We were in the supermarket getting some bits we needed, and my wife had asked me to get her some tampons, which I duly did. To me, this is just another product in my basket, and I hadn’t given them a second thought. However, the young girl on the till thought differently and she tried her best to try and ridicule me by asking, “are you sure these are the right ones?”, with a condescending half-smile, half-sneer on her face, whilst holding them aloft. I smiled and nodded, “I think so”. My daughter was seething with indignation by the time we got back to car as she realised what had just happened, but I pointed out that what I had just experienced was a mere fraction of what she had to come!

One of the other values instilled into me by my parents was to try and always help other people. As a result, I consider myself a “run towards” person rather than a “run away” person. If I see someone in trouble, or someone who appears to need help, I will try to see if I can be of assistance in any way. One example of this was in the mid-1980s when I was a teenager. There is a large hospital near to where I lived, and in those days, some hospitals provided living accommodation for the nurses. A friend of mine’s sister worked at this hospital as a nurse and also lived there, and it was from her that we learned that there was a person waiting for the nurses after they had finished their shifts and they would harass them as they walked back to the accommodation block. This happened in late autumn and at a time of day when it was dark. The harassment came in the form of walking close to the nurses whilst making extremely lewd and suggestive comments. On a couple of occasions, this person tried to grab their intended victim, and whilst this in itself is horrendous, luckily it was no worse. The police were informed, and they did send officers to patrol the grounds at random times, but the person made themselves scarce as soon as the police were more visible. As you can imagine, the nurses were extremely scared, and my friend was very concerned for his sister’s welfare. And so, after a couple of beers in a local hostelry, my friend, myself and a couple of others decided we would get a small group together and draw up a rota to wait for the nurses at a particular exit and escort them back to the accommodation building. Within a short space of time, we had amassed quite a number of volunteers, rotas were drawn up and there were plenty of people to ensure that the nurses arrived back at their accommodation safely. The police didn’t exactly approve, but they advised us how best to protect both the nurses and ourselves. We never actually caught the creep who was carrying out the attacks, but he was spotted and chased on a couple of occasions. After approximately three months, the sightings of this person dwindled out completely and the nurses felt sufficiently “safe” to no longer require being escorted.

I hasten to add, that none of this was done because it was “poor defenseless women” that were being targeted. We felt that we needed to act because a group of people were made to feel vulnerable and frightened and we felt that we could help. I have also helped people that have collapsed in supermarkets, have broken down at the side of the road, have been attacked in the street and have just looked lost and lonely. Many of these people have been women, but just as many have been men. On one occasion, I intervened on a busy high street one Saturday morning when I saw a woman being grabbed by the throat by the man she was with. I “persuaded” the man to let her go, only to be met by a tirade of abuse from the woman, telling me to leave her boyfriend alone. Would I have intervened had I know her reaction in advance. Of course I would, you don’t grab someone around the throat in that manner, especially when the grabber is considerably bigger than the grabbee (is that even a word!). I have also been chastised by women for holding the door open for them, unbeknownst to them that I had performed the exact same action for a man earlier that day.

Apologies again, there is a point to my seemingly aimless meandering and that point is that I always try to help people. Especially if they seem vulnerable or afraid, regardless of gender. I always have and I thought I always would; but this gets me to the point of my story – that being the upsetting incident. At last, I hear you cry!

It was a non-descript midweek morning and I had an appointment which necessitated driving to a nearby town. The destination of my appointment was close to the high street, so I decided to park in the nearby multi-storied carpark. Once parked, I decided to take the stairs and as with most carparks of this type, the stairwell was concealed by heavy doors clad in metal kick-plates, their whereabouts hinted at by the “Shops This Way”, sign. I was on the third floor and each level was reached by a series of two opposing flights of steps, again typical of most carparks. Having reached the second floor, I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, so made sure that I kept to the left to ensure enough room for the person to pass. As the footsteps grew louder, I could see a woman approaching, of a similar age to myself and she clearly looked distressed. As the lady passed me and reached the top of the first flight of steps, halfway to the next floor, she hesitated slightly, so I took the chance to ask if everything was alright. She looked a little taken aback, but after a brief pause, she informed me that she wasn’t sure where she had parked her car. She was fairly certain that she had left it on Level 2, but there was no sign of it. As I was a regular visitor to this carpark, I had seen this happen before as each floor was split into two sub-levels, an A and a B, although this was not immediately clear from the signage. I explained that her car was probably on the next level up as this was level 2B and to make things even more confusing, each level looked very alike.

The lady smiled and I saw a momentary look of relief sweep across her face. This was almost immediately replaced by another expression, uncertainty, which then slowly morphed into fear. It was only slight, and the lady tried to hide her emotion as she thanked me for my help, but I noticed it nonetheless. Ordinarily, I would have offered to help look for the car as semi-dark, empty carparks aren’t the greatest places to be wondering around on your own. Also, if the worse-case scenario were to be happen and the car had been stolen, I would then be on hand to offer further assistance. Instead, sensing the lady’s apprehension, I tried to reassure here again that her car would more than likely turn-up and I wished her a good day. I hurriedly continued my descent of the stairwell.

It was later in the day, once my appointment had been concluded and I was back home, that I really had a chance to process what had just happened. It hadn’t crossed my mind for a moment that this woman might feel vulnerable or frightened just from my mere presence. But why wouldn’t she. After all, I was a complete stranger, she didn’t know me from the next person, and she had no way of knowing what my intentions were. I knew that I wanted to help this lady, but the pertinent point is that she didn’t.

And after all, what does this lady see in the press and media every day. Most men are bad. Misogynists. Violence against women is getting worse. Hate crime is increasing. Men and boys need educating on how to treat women and girls better. We are the enemy. Not to be trusted. Hell, even the police can’t be trusted to protect women anymore. Now, none of these statements are totally untrue and I don’t disagree with any of them. It’s just the number of men that are portrayed as “bad” that I have an issue with.

That day in the carpark, when I saw the look in that lady’s eyes, part of my soul died. I am still saddened by it even to this day. The realisation that I was the cause of this lady’s fear weighs heavy on my heart. As I have tried to outline in my ramblings, my intention has only ever been to try and help people. In the past, I have always done this without a second thought, no matter the danger I might be putting myself in. Now however, I will hesitate the next time I find myself in a similar situation. I will worry that that person perceives me as a threat and a danger and not a source of assistance.

I shared these feelings with my wife and her response shocked me. I explained that I was worried that if I found myself in a similar situation, I wouldn’t want anyone to feel that I was a threat. My wife’s advice was, should I find myself in a such a situation again, to walk on and carry about my day. It was her explanation that really shocked me. What if that lady had screamed and shouted out. Called for help as she thought I was about to mug or attack her. If she thought that this was genuinely about to happen to her, she would believe it to be true. And should anyone else get involved, who would believe me. After all, I am just a man. A misogynist. I need educating and it’s because of people like me that there is so much violence against women. It must be true because its in the news all the time.

Would I get involved again though, if someone was in trouble, clearly distressed and in need of help. If that person was a woman. Of course I would. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I am a man and I have known many, many, other men in my life and I know there are more good ones than bad. Most men, like myself, are appalled when they see and hear these cases of horrendous violence carried out against woman. Whilst there are many men that do perpetuate these attitudes and acts of violence, there is a larger number that want to help be part of the solution. To be part of the education process. To help build a better more equal society.

Problem is, that’s not the sort of thing that grabs headlines, sells newspapers, or increases viewing figures. Maybe there’s a whole different topic of education that needs to be discussed!

We’ve Lost Our Focus. The Reason Behind SHRINKFLATION

I read once that what we focus on is what we head towards. The deeper meaning didn’t register immediately, but I understood the basic premise of the saying. It was a while later whilst watching motorcycle racing on the television that the true meaning revealed itself to me. The event was a World Superbike race, and two riders were battling for the lead position. The viewing perspective changed to the onboard camera that was pointing at the rider, and you could see the rider’s helmet and visor as he approached a fast left-hand corner. As he leaned the bike into the corner, his head turned to the left at a more acute angle than the bike was turning. “He’s not looking where he’s going, isn’t that dangerous?”, commented my wife. As a lifelong motorcyclist myself, I explained that you always concentrated on the exit of a turn or a corner, as bikes don’t have steering wheels and you have to use your body weight and positioning to change the direction of the bike. It was then that the metaphoric light bulb over my head switched on and I truly understood the meaning of the saying. What you focus on is what you head towards.

To carry on with the motorcycling analogy, I realised that this saying was the underpinning basis of motorcycling safety. As part of learning defensive riding, you are taught to always look for your escape route or exit. If a vehicle pulls out in front of you, immediately look to see a path that will not only avoid the vehicle, but will also not put you in further danger. This is something that I was never taught when learning to drive a car, and I believe this is why so many people have crashes. Drivers tend to concentrate on the car that has just pulled out in front of them rather than trying to avoid it and inevitably the two collide. In the US, there is a famous stretch of straight road that goes for mile after mile across endless desert. The local state troopers are amazed at the constant stream of accidents they are called out to where drivers have embedded the front of their vehicle into a telegraph pole. With mile after mile of straight road and an unchanging view out of the windscreen, a telegraph pole can become fascinating. What you focus on is what you head towards!

I soon realised that this principle can be applied to all areas of your life and if adhered to diligently, it can make a world of difference. How many people make plans to do something, whether it’s to get a new job, or to lose weight, only to find that a few short weeks later they are no further forward with their plans. Sure, CVs were sent off, the gym was attended and in the first couple of weeks the enthusiasm was high. But when the results don’t materialise quite as quickly as we would like that enthusiasm starts to wan. We start to find excuses not to do that workout, or we persuade ourselves that we quite like our current job, and anyway, we might get that promotion after all. In short, we lose our focus. No matter how detailed our initial plans were to achieve our goals, without dedicated focus, our attention soon starts to drift.

Don’t worry, this isn’t some motivational diatribe aimed at pumping you up to change your life in ten easy steps! No, instead, what I want to explore is just how our focus can affect and change the outcomes of our actions. More importantly, it is when we examine the focus of those around us, that we start to see the true picture and understand what is going on. A short while ago, I wrote a piece on this blog about how I had the answer to all the world’s problems The Answer To The World’s Problems! ALL OF THEM!! – abolish money!

Now, on the basis that this is highly unlikely to happen anytime soon, perhaps we need to analyse our attitude towards money and especially where it relates to the world of commerce and industry. Once upon a time, a company would offer a product or service, and money was a by-product of offering these said products or services. A well-made product or well delivered service would result not only in the proffering of money in exchange, but also the promise of further revenue for the supply of more of the same products and services. The focus of the company would be to ensure that their products and services maintain the standards that their customers had come to expect, and this would be their reassurance to place repeat business in the future. Not only this, but the company would grow a reputation for supplying great quality products and services and this is how they would grow their customer base. Word would get around, the wheels of marketing would turn and slowly but surely the company would grow. More products and services would be sold and in turn the company’s revenue would increase. Happy days!! But should the quality decrease, so would the sales and ultimately the revenue, so the focus was always on maintaining the quality that company’s reputation was built on.

Businessman standing in front of projection screen. Projector reflects dollar signs to screen and businessman’s back.

Change the focus though and the picture begins to change. Slowly, as the company grows and revenues increase, the things that were paramount in importance start to be replaced by new goals and directives. Things such as quality, value for money and high levels of service start to slip as they are replaced by gross margins, working capital and EBITDA. Financial metrics start to become the new focus. To some degree, it makes sense, as staff need to be paid, suppliers need paying and you need to ensure that you can keep the lights and heating on.

In the day-to-day hubbub of everyday business, it is easy to lose sight of the things that really contribute to these financial metrics. Namely, maintaining high standards of quality and ensuring that your customers are happy. Instead, the attention is drawn to the rising wages bill, how are we going to pay the suppliers on time and thoughts slip to how we can make savings instead.

In short, the focus shifts towards money. How many of us have been told by our boss, that, “it’s all about the bottom line”; “this is a business and not a charity; “it’s all about making money”. As money becomes the main focus, attention to quality and value for money shrink ever smaller. As revenue and profits start to plateau, companies look to other means to hold their profits. On one side of the equation, you have revenue and on the other you have costs. If one side isn’t going up, you need to reduce the other and this means, cutting staff, lowering wages, renegotiating purchasing contracts, or looking for alternative, cheaper suppliers. With the combination of less staff doing more work along with the quality of the raw materials dwindling, it doesn’t take long for the quality of the product to decline. However, the company has no intention of lowering their prices, so the result is the customer getting an inferior product and therefore less value for their money.

This is nothing new and we have all experienced this a lot over the years. However, real costs now being almost as low as they can go, companies are having to look to new areas in order make these savings and what I am talking about is a relatively new phenomenon – shrinkflation! At first it was quite surreptitious, and a lot of people didn’t notice. The size of things seemed to shrink. That chocolate bar that we remember as being huge as a kid now seems a tad smaller. “No, it’s not!”, the manufacturer cries, “It’s just that your hands were a lot smaller as a child!”. That must be it, we try and persuade ourselves, but deep down we know it’s not quite true.

Thinking they have got away with it, the shrinkflation continues. Products continue to get incrementally smaller, packets of biscuits now contain two or three less than before, multi-packs now have one less item, but in every case the price remains the same. The quality of the raw materials and ingredients used gets compromised and slowly we start to notice that things don’t last quite as long, or taste quite the same. Still, we continue to pay the same price.

In one case, a food manufacturer was accused of using horse meat in some of its products as a replacement for beef. And again, with no amendment to the price to take this into account – even if using horse meat had even been acceptable in the first place.

The other tactic to hoodwink us into thinking that lowering quality standards is acceptable is another new phenomenon – inbuilt obsolescence. No longer are products built to last as long as possible. Kitchen appliances last for mere moments in comparison to the lifetime that they seemed to last. Hell, I remember my mother using the same vacuum cleaner for my entire childhood and we had a fridge that lasted for well over twenty years. Not any longer. We are now told that it is better if we replace our electrical items and gadgets every couple of years, but no one can ever give a satisfactory reason to back this up. And just who does it benefit – us the consumers, the environment perhaps?? No, of course not. The only ones to benefit are the manufacturers.

And why? It is down to the all-consuming pursuit of the dollar (please substitute the currency appropriate to your own region! 😊). The focus is on money and nothing else. How can these companies make more for less. How can they maximise their profits. How can they placate their shareholders. How can they grab a larger share of the marketplace. How can they satiate their never-ending greed. And who pays the price? The real price?

You and me, of course.

If only there was an answer.

Well, there is. Change the focus. Remove it altogether.

Abolish money!!

I Blame Stephen King

I consider myself lucky on two counts. Firstly, I have always loved books and secondly, I was fortunate to have parents who encouraged me to read from a very young age. The third thing that I should also thank my lucky stars for was having a parent that believed that a child shouldn’t be constricted to reading material purely based on their age alone. If there was something that I wanted to read and as long as it was child appropriate, I was encouraged to read it. And so, at age nine, I learned about The Lord of the Rings and announced that I would like to read it. Rather than being discouraged and told that it was too difficult for a young child, my dad blew the dust from his old copy and together we embraced the long and winding journey through Middle Earth. Alas, the journey was short lived, and I barely made it out of the Shire. The language was beyond my understanding, some words and names were too complicated to “sound out” and the plot was a little too convoluted to follow with my limited life experience. My interest soon waned, and my attention wandered to other books on the shelves of my bookcase. However, my interest in all things hobbits and elves wasn’t diminished and if anything, my desire to complete the book had increased, although, at some level, I understood that it was beyond my reach as a nine-year-old. It would be another two years before I finished reading the book.

The years went by and my love of books and reading never abated. I progressed from Winnie the Pooh to Paddington bear and then onto Roald Dahl. However, the book that stood out for me, and I still re-read it occasionally, was Treasure Island. I still get a shiver when I imagine hiding in an apple barrel, holding my breath so as not to be discovered by cut-throat pirates. The boy’s-own adventure of the book was what enthralled me initially, but it was the slight frisson of fear that captured and held me.

I was twelve when I discovered the work of Stephen King. My friend’s older brother had a book which had a picture on the spine that mesmerised me. The picture was of a grotesquely twisted face, be-fanged and with piercing red eyes, the face of a vampire. I had to know what it was about and after promising to return it, my friend lent me the book. The book was Salem’s Lot by Stephen King. I was hooked and so began my forty-six-year adventure into the complexly beautiful world of a master storyteller.

I soon learnt that there was more than horror to the stories of Mr King. It was the characters that imprinted themselves on my memory long after the book was finished and returned to the bookshelf. I first discovered this whilst reading Christine. The story of a quiet, unassuming boy trying to navigate the turbulent waters of the ocean that is adolescence. Distracted by the opportunity to restore an old 1957 Plymouth Fury, the project soon becomes an obsession, and you are left wondering whether it is the car that is possessed or the boy as he is transformed into a sneering, maelstrom of rage and fury, far worse than the bullies and tormentors that he once feared and cowered from.

And so, my journey began. From The Shining to Pet Cemetery; from The Stand to Needful Things; from The Tommyknockers to Insomnia, my rapacious appetite never seemed to be truly sated. Every new book was eagerly anticipated and on finishing each one, my heart felt a heaviness as though saying farewell to an old friend.

For me, the real epiphany came with The Dark Tower series of novels. The first book, The Gunslinger introduces you to the initial two characters; a young boy named Jake, destined to a fate he could never begin to imagine, and a dusty, enigmatic cowboy named Roland who would become his reluctant mentor. The second book, The Drawing of the Three introduces Eddie and Odetta and the quest for the Dark Tower begins in earnest. There are five more books that take you on the most incredible journey to distant lands that lay nestled in alternative times and universes.

For me, Mr King’s skill is building and describing the characters in his books, and you don’t just feel like you know them, you feel part of the story. You care what happens to them. For me, the real skill comes in the empathy that you develop with these characters. Their hearts and minds are laid bare, and you get to share their every thought and emotion. You feel as though these are emotions that you yourself have had but have never shared with anyone and there they are laid bare on the pages of the book. It is though Stephen King has reached into your mind and is able to see into every dark recess and shadowy corner.

However, it is not my intention to write a review on the works of Stephen King. Plenty of these exist already, and I fear that any effort I might make would be inadequate in the extreme. Instead, my intention is to try and convey what an impact that art, and creative writing in particular can have on your life. My family and friends all know my love of books and I often get asked who my favourite books and authors are. If I had to list a “top 10”, some of the books that would make the list are Treasure Island (of course), 1984, Catcher in The Rye, Rebecca, Lord of the Rings and of course, The Dark Tower series. It is the mention of the latter that always seems to instigate the raising of eyebrows followed by, “what, Stephen King, the horror writer!” I used to feel compelled to point out that I bet some of their favourite films are The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, Stand By Me and did they realise these are based on Stephen King books. Now however, I just smile, nod and say, yeah, that’s the bloke.

I suppose that brings me full circle and back round to my love of reading and that I blame Mr King for being a big part of the reason as to just why I love reading. For me, great books always has one common denominator – great characters. Characters that you can identify with, that speak to you on a personal level and that live on in your heart long after the book is finished. I don’t imagine for a single moment that my inane ramblings will every reach the attention of Mr King, but if they should, I would like to say one thing to him.

Dear Constant Writer.

You have given me joy and laughter. You have given me solace in times of sorrow. You have provided me with sanctuary at times when all I have wanted is to withdraw from the world. You have filled me with wonder just when I thought cynicism would consume me. You have fed my imagination and taken me to places that I could never have thought to exist. I read once that in order to create anything of true worth, you have to give part of yourself to it, no matter how painful this may be. It is for this that I thank you the most.

Thank you.

The Answer To The World’s Problems! ALL OF THEM!!

Well, that’s a bold claim, I hear you cry, or is this just another clickbait title to entice me to read on. Okay, it may be a bold statement and a little tongue-in-cheek, but I believe the basic premise of my idea is sound in principle.

My idea to solve the world’s problems – abolish MONEY!!!! That’s right, you read that correctly, abolish money. But that’s crazy! What will we do instead, how will we manage! The world will descend into anarchy and madness as everyone will go on a massive looting rampage.

Before you dismiss my idea, let me try to rationalise it by analysing some of the main “problems” that blight our world, but first, exactly what are these problems, or at least what are the main categories these problems fall into –

Famine and hunger
Poverty
Disease and inadequate healthcare
War and conflict

And now, what are the main contributing factors that cause and help to perpetuate these problems –

Famine and hunger
- Lack of investment and funding by governments to maintain and sustain food production, from farming through to the manufacture and distribution of food.
Poverty
- Lack of investment and funding into social welfare issues, including providing a basic level of education for everyone to ensure a more level “playing field”.
Disease and inadequate healthcare
- Lack of investment and funding into providing a basic level of hygiene and health care for everyone regardless of your social or geographical position.
War and conflict
- Countries, groups or individuals looking to seize control of exterior territories or resources, either in the guise of defence, or beneficial gain.

How is abolishing money going to help I hear you cry, Surely the answer is to throw more money at these problems as that is the obvious fix. If that were true, then why isn’t this being done. Hardly a week goes by without some celeb appearing on our TVs from a war-torn, famine-stricken backdrop, imploring us to send some more money. And we do. Millions are raised, aid is sent, and yet the following year we get asked for even more money and then the following year for more still. The reason being, food, medication, clothing etc. all costs money and once the coffers are empty, there is no more aid. Remove money from the equation and we can provide as much food and medication as is required.

But I can hear the general outcry now, “Well, if I’m not getting paid, then I’m not working!”. Or alternatively, “Well, if everything is free, then I’m having it all and I’m just going to sit back, relax and enjoy it!”

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t work that way. If you want tech, TV and the latest fashions, we are still going to need people to make them. If you want food, then people will still need to work on farms and in factories in order to produce it all. These jobs will still need to be fulfilled as well as roles such as teachers, doctors, nurses, police officers, fire-fighters etc. We will still need people to work in factories and offices in order to manufacture and produce the things that we need and want. We will need to come together as a community, or rather a collection of communities and ensure that the jobs that need doing are done. If you want a new tablet, TV, or designer pair of shoes, you will need to ensure that you are making your contribution to society. That doesn’t mean that you will now have to work for Apple making iPads (other tablets are available), but you will need to ensure that you are contributing in some measurable way. If your skill is in education, then you will be required to teach. If caring for the sick is your vocation, then you will be a nurse or doctor. You get the idea.

Think of the benefit of not working for money because you must. Instead of doing a job that affords you to be able to pay your bills, you can do a job that you truly enjoy. How many of us would rather deliver the post, drive a bus, or work outside with our hands, rather than sit in front of a flickering screen doing meaningless tasks for ten hours a day. Instead, we can lead fulfilling lives, enjoying our work, knowing that we have contributed to our society. Worrying about paying bills, saving for trinkets and hollow rewards and just generally getting by will become things of the past. I truly believe that our values will change and rather than judging people by their jobs and possessions we will start to place an importance on their contributions to society. More importantly, we will start to enjoy our work and in turn take pride in our jobs as we will be doing something that we want to do as opposed to doing something we have to do.

However, I am not naive, and I understand that every solution brings its own problems. This will be a huge undertaking and it will need policing by the general population to ensure that everyone is contributing fairly. It will also require each communal group as well as society in general to ensure that no one individual or group is benefiting more than others. The usual yardstick for measuring power and wealth is money, so with this element removed, society will start to re-evaluate how it views groups and individuals.

Do I think this idealistic plan is achievable? Who knows? Probably not! But what is the alternative, carry on as we are, forever staggering on towards the abyss. The amount of money in the world is arguably more than it has ever been, but the number of people that share this wealth is smaller than ever before and getter smaller by the day. A handful of companies now turn over in excess of a trillion dollars a year each, whilst billions of people go without and struggle on a daily basis.

We are no longer staggering towards the abyss, but instead we are galloping headlong towards it. Grasping for the dollar bill that is dangling from a thread just beyond our grasp. We are told to try a bit harder, to reach a bit further to want it a bit more, but deep down we know it will always be just beyond the stretch of our fingertips.

So, do I think that abolishing money is achievable. I genuinely do as I believe that the majority of people want to do the right thing. They want to help their fellow man and see their communities flourish and grow. If they didn’t, these charities wouldn’t raise millions each time there was a new campaign to raise money for a worthy cause. How many times on TV do we see a community come together to help a family in need decorate or renovate their homes. I have faith in people’s compassion and kindness.

So, do I really think that abolishing money is the answer.

I’m really not sure – but I’m willing to give it a try. After all, when you have nothing, what have you got to lose.

Election Talk Again – Who Foots The Bill?

With the country being in disarray and the cost of living crisis being the hot topic of the moment, every politician is being asked how the policies on their manifestoes are going to be funded. Growth seems to be the answer for one or two of the parties, whilst this is a great idea in theory, it is a bit like telling your mortgage provider that your next payments are coming from your imminent lottery win! Good luck with that.

With this in mind, it gave me a chance to regurgitate another one of my older posts. Originally titled, Once Jesters Now Kings, it was my response to a news story of the time commenting on the high salaries of certain BBC presenters and personalities. Reading through the post again, I still believe that the basic premise is relevant and would provide a viable alternative to raise much needed funds for public services…

I’m sure that everyone has noticed the slight kafuffle in the news concerning the salaries of a number of BBC employees. Whilst I agree with what seems to be the overwhelming opinion that these salaries seem to be completely out of step compared to the average wage of your general BBC viewer, especially when it is said viewers that are funding these pay packets, my concern comes from a slightly different direction.

Let’s step back a few years to an age when entertainment came in a slightly more basic format. Back to a time when what was considered to be entertainment was watching someone dressed in bright coloured clothing, perhaps juggling or walking on their hands. Jesters in favour were rewarded with scraps of food, a place to sleep and maybe the odd coin or two if their antics and stories were funny enough. Jesters, or fools as they were commonly called, were considered to be no more than servants and were treated accordingly.

Fast forward a few hundred years and entertainment and more importantly, entertainers, are now viewed in a completely different light. Some are now the earning elite and command vastly inflated salaries for what appears to be the most perfunctory of roles. Whilst you could argue that newsreaders and the like perform a vital role bringing us the latest news and current affairs, does this really justify six and seven figure salaries. Especially when you consider that the average annual salary in the UK is approximately £26K. Basically, the lowest paid are helping to pay the wages of the top 1% of earners – that sounds fair! To look at it another way, if you were to relieve the top BBC earner of their salary, you would be able to give 440 nurses a £5K per annum pay rise.

And then it dawned on me. There is a solution to this problem. Are these people going to relinquish their salaries and take a huge pay cut? Of course not. Instead, what we should do, is re-categorise everyone’s job based on its usefulness and contribution to the rest of society. For example, jobs such as nurses, police officers, firefighters, teachers etc., would be seen as vital as their contribution is immense. As a result, these jobs would score relatively low. On the other hand, jobs such as actors, film stars, pop musicians, footballers (other sports are currently available) would be scored highly as their contribution to society would be seen to be comparatively low. Should the scoring system not be the other way around, I hear you cry! No, no, no. The reason being, the lower score a job carries, the lower tax that that person has to pay. Conversely, the higher the score, the higher the tax. Imagine an actor earning several millions for making a single movie paying 70 or 80% income tax, or a football player earning £500K per week paying a similar amount. All of a sudden, we would be in a position to lower the tax for everyone employed in one of these more “vital” roles, maybe even to the point that certain roles would actually be tax exempt. Writing off the income tax bill for a nurse is almost the equivalent of awarding them a 25% par rise.

I understand that there would be a huge resistance to such a scheme, but only from those top earners that are in that top 1% category. It would be down to the rest of us to ensure that the scheme was adhered to and people were accountable for what they owed. Incentive schemes could be set up, whereby discounts were applied for people that willingly “gave up” a percentage of their earnings. So, the footballer earning £500K per week could be liable for a £350K income tax bill, or alternatively they could “surrender” £250K of their salary into a government pot that then went to help fund health care, education, the police force etc.

On the other side of the coin, perhaps it would help encourage more people into jobs that were once seen as vocational rather than a career path to higher earnings. Am I being idealistic as well as unrealistic. Probably, but something has to be done to try and address the balance. And when all is said and done, if I were that footballer whose £500K per week was slashed to a mere £250K, could I survive. Possibly. It would be a struggle, but I’d give it a go!!

Election Time Again!

With election time almost upon us again, I thought this would be a relevant time to regurgitate an earlier post. As tactical voting is a hot topic of discussion with many media outlets currently, I thought this issue would be worth re-sharing…

Well, it’s that time again and we are beset with election fever; when I say fever, I mean more of a slight temperature and that scratchy feeling you get in the back of your throat. Now don’t worry, this isn’t going to be some typical rant berating one party in favour of another, but rather my view of the political “scene” as an overview. I know, I know, never discuss religion or politics, but how are we ever going to change things unless we engage in some form of meaningful dialogue.

I was flicking, or should I say, scrolling through some news stories on the internet the other day and saw a headline tearing into a certain soap actress for admitting that she had never voted in an election. The particular site that I was on didn’t seem particularly interested in covering the serious issues of the topic, but instead seemed more interested in the frills and frippery and so concerned itself on whether the actors outfit was de rigueur or not. I realised that the report didn’t give a reason as to why this particular actor hadn’t voted before, but it made me realise that there have been elections where I too have failed to register my mark in the necessary box. Now before you start lambasting me for not upholding my democratic right and pointing out that we have fought for our liberty in order to exercise this right. let me explain. Posed with the question, would you like to be stabbed in the face, or shot in the chest, I sincerely hope that your answer is, none of the above please. At this juncture, I would like to thank and apologise in equal measure to Rufus Hound, as I have stolen/paraphrased this question from some of his material – and damn funny it was too! (his material, not my question)!

The origin of the above material to one side, it does pose a very interesting question and that is, why should we feel compelled to vote, especially if we are left feeling as though we are picking the lesser of two evils (or many evils as is case in many constituencies). Surely this opinion is backed up when you consider just how many, or to put it more accurately, just how few people turn out to the ballot stations come election time. Whilst I don’t recall the exact figure, I believe that less than 40% of the electorate turned out for the last election and even those people couldn’t decide a definite majority. Surely with around a quarter of the electorate forming the “majority”, the result should be deemed null and void. I won’t labour the point (forgive the pun!), as many discussions have been had on this subject, but surely isn’t it time we had a “None of the Above” option on our ballot cards and we can then see what the real majority want. Then and only then can you truly berate myself, aforementioned soap actors and other abstainers for not exercising their constitutional rights.

That’s all well and good, I hear you cry, but what do we do if the none-of-the-above-ers achieve the majority. I should also make the distinction that “none of the above” isn’t the same as “I don’t know”. In my opinion, the “I don’t know” faction are people that the politicians have failed to engage in politics, rather than people that have weighed up all the options and have made a conscious decision that none of the political parties available to them are able to steer the country in the direction that they see fit. In my opinion, if the majority of the electorate tick, “none of the above” on their ballot papers, then the election should be suspended. The main parties involved should be given an opportunity to go away and re-group, even elect a new leader if needs be, within a pre-determined time span. You would hope that any necessary action taken would be driven by the actual numbers counted at the polling stations. If a particular party spectacularly under-performs in certain constituencies, hopefully this will then force them to make the necessary changes in order to win the voters on-side. Who knows, perhaps it will force the main political parties to draw-up manifestoes based on what the electorate wants as opposed to want they think we want to hear.

Idealistic and fanciful – maybe; impractical and unworkable – perhaps, but what’s the alternative, a constant round of being lied to and mis-represented. Surely, isn’t it worth a little bit of extra pain and hard work in order to get a government that is genuinely looking out for the well being of the majority, or in other words, a truer democracy than we have now.

So Brother and Sisters, when election day comes, join with me and demand a better future with a brighter outlook and vote for…….None of the Above!!!

Back From The Dead!

Okay, so I am not literally back from the dead, that really would be something to write about! It just feels like it, certainly in terms of my absence from posting on my site, as it has been almost three years now! And lets face it, there has certainly been plenty to comment about. Brexit, deathly pandemics, world leaders that make the Three Stooges look like the Brains Trust and not to mention the economic melt-down of the free world. Whatever next, war in Europe! Oh yeah, there’s that as well.

All in all, it has been quite a crappy time and it doesn’t look like getting better any time soon. Oh well, there is always emigrating to Mars to look forward to (and by that I mean the chocolate factory in Slough of course!!).

For those of you that have read any of my content here, you will know that I have opinions on such things and I’m not afraid to share them. I like to think that I apply a little common sense and rationale to my “solutions”, even if some of them are a little tongue in cheek. As we seem to be hurtling towards the abyss with Armageddon lurking like the grim reaper, the onus seems to be put more and more on the populace to sort things out. I have had a lot of thoughts on things such as climate change, pollution, economic disparity, social inequality and technology’s hand in the downturn of our society and over the weeks I will tackle each one individually.

Next week, I am hoping to start with a fairly small, innocuous topic – IT’S TIME TO ABOLISH MONEY!!!

A little ambitious and unworkable? Maybe not! Not so much down with capitalism, more, let’s see an end to consumerism.

Thanks as always for reading so far, and stay tuned for my thoughts on how abolishing money could instantly solve many of our current problems!

Don’t Ask for Whom The Bell Tolls. It Tolls For The BBC.

A while ago, the news channels ran a feature about the salaries that were being paid by the BBC. At the time, they were highlighting the disparity between what men were being paid, versus what women were receiving. I was more interested in the disparity between what “entertainers” were being paid, compared to the incomes of the rest of us mere mortals.

You can read my thoughts about the subject here.

Lo and behold and the topic is being revisited. This time though, the issue is in connection to the over-75’s being made to pay for their TV licenses. Understandably, there is an outcry as public feeling is very strong. After all, didn’t a very wise man once say, a society can be judged by how it looks after its children and the elderly.

General opinion is such that most people are advising the over-75’s to refuse to pay for their licenses. After all, the courts are unlikely to lock-up thousands and thousands of pensioners. A noble sentiment, but a tad scarier in practice. Especially if you are the one that is facing possible imprisonment. In actuality, there is a much simpler solution. Please bear with me.

We live in an age where the way we used to watch television has changed radically. No longer do we have to plan ahead, schedule watching our favourite programs and then wait days for them to come on. Only to miss half of the program, because we have forgotten that it is actually on! No, everything now is on demand. We pay to stream programs live onto our screens. And not just TV screens either. We watch TV on laptops, our tablets and our smartphones. No longer are we constrained to hunker down in the room that contains our telly in order to watch our preferred programs. Now we can pretty much watch them anywhere that we receive a WiFi signal.

So the answer then I hear you cry! We should all write to the BBC and give them notice of the cessation of our payment of the license fee. We should instruct them that we no longer wish to receive their signal as we have other means by which to watch TV. This way, it won’t just be the over-75’s that are refusing to pay the license fee, but all of us, and with a legitimate reason. We are not just refusing to pay, we have also given notice that we no longer wish to receive their service.

It would ring the death knell for the BBC. Overnight they would be crippled and their incoming revenue would be turned off like a tap. In turn, this would force them to re-think the whole way they are funded. But this would mean advertising on the BBC! Never! Sacrilege! Not necessarily, there are other ways. Fairer ways that would mean that those that can afford it would pay and not those that deserve to be looked after in the autumn of their life.

But that, as they say, is another story. One to which I may have inferred to earlier on!

The Cloud. The Sky Darkens.

I had an interesting conversation with someone the other day concerning my previous post, The Cloud. Virtual Computing Or Pie In The Sky. From their point of view, the cloud was a great idea. It gave them the opportunity to access their information from anywhere, plus, they could store huge amounts of data without having to go and buy expensive storage devices.

Point taken, you can’t argue with that. However, it’s important to understand just why the “cloud” was developed in the first place. In the good-old-days, IT companies used to manufacture hardware and this was the mainstay of their business. They weren’t too bothered about operating systems and software as this was someone else’s concern. Plus, all of the big “meaty” computers, such as mainframe and Unix based servers had their own operating environments. However, as PC’s that were once deemed as being for home use only, became faster and more reliable, companies started to turn to these instead.

As a result, computer server manufacturers started to see a squeeze on their margins. What were once their cash-cows, were now turning into money losers. As a result, the manufacturers turned to other avenues in order to generate revenue. They started to work closely with software integrators as well as develop their own in-house software. Maintenance and service plans were pushed with gusto. They soon started to realise that getting their customers to subscribe to products and services was the way forward.

The hardware became the loss-leader. The device to get a stranglehold on their customers in order to get them to sign up to an endless stream of products that were vital to the running of their everyday business. Software licenses, maintenance plans, disaster recovery services, asset management programs, etc., etc. The list goes on. If only they didn’t have to manufacture hardware at all! Genius!!

And so the cloud was born. One manufacturer in particular built huge data centres capable of housing and storing massive amounts of data. The investment was huge; millions and millions of dollars, but it didn’t matter. They were manufacturing the hardware anyway. The difference was, they would only have to do it the once. They could then sell “virtual computing” to their customers. All a company would need would be terminals on desks and a decent internet connection. You were then good to go.

What’s the problem then, I hear you ask. It’s the commercial world that are paying for these data-centres and we get to reap the benefits. Not quite. What happens when the data centres fill up, or it starts costing too much money to maintain them. Someone will have to pay. Imagine, all of your music, your films, your treasured photographs, not to mention your important data, all held remotely. Someone has the power to pull the plug on all your “stuff”, and guess what. It’s not you! If you get asked to pay, you’re not going to have too much of a choice.

If you think this won’t happen, then you’re wrong. It already is. There are a number of photo hosting sites that have scrapped their free option, or are at least looking at massively restricting how many photos you can store before you have to pay. You know how it works. Once one company gets away with it, they’ll all be doing it.

So, if your happy to keep your head in the clouds, then fine. Me, I keep everything backed up on hard drives, flash drives and USB sticks. I even have a ton of photos saved on DVD’s. Remember them!