There
was a wise old teacher who enjoyed his work even though his classroom
was small and dark. OK – It was a long time ago, there was no
Ofsted and this is my story! One hot Summer day he decided that he
needed a change so he came up with a plan to take his class outdoors.
He suggested to his students that he was prepared to conduct the
lesson in the shade of the old oak tree on the edge of the school
playing fields. He reasoned that the fresh air and change of scenery
would help them to concentrate. As an added incentive he was prepared
to buy them each an ice-cream but this offer could only take place if
they all agreed to the plan. A casual inspection of the damp
patches on many of my classmates shirts and their languid expressions
I felt sure that the suggestion would receive a good reception. Even
the class bully had given up flicking rubber bands at people’s ears
as he too wilted in the heat.
To
your average hormonally challenged teenager this proposal would be a
no brainer but as I said this was a long time ago. Half the class
immediately grabbed their books and headed for the door while others
whooped in joy. Even those that had fallen asleep were stirred to
investigate the commotion. We all ignored the one person who
remained at his desk, stoney faced, with his arms folded. As the
noise abated he announced to the world that ‘he did not like
ice-cream’. In most schools with classes of around 25 you will
usually find 1 or 2 pupils who will object to most things for no
other reason than to draw attention to themselves. Invariably these
pupils are soon tagged by their classmates and subjected to a mixture
of scorn, contempt and indifference appropriate to their action. But
this student was not one of the usual ‘troublemakers’ leaving the
teacher with little option but to withdraw his offer and send a
couple of us to retrieve the group that were already half way to the
playing field. Despite the fact that there were quite a few of us who
would have willingly eaten the spare ice-cream, we dutifully spent
the rest of the afternoon cooped up in our stuffy classroom listening
to the wonders of ancient Mesopotamia on account of one individual’s
obstinacy.
For
the past decade every month the MEPs tasked with running the European
Community up sticks from their Brussels HQ to attend a 4 day session
at their secondary base in Strasbourg. The cost of moving the 1000
MEPs plus equipment, translators, security teams, etc leaves the
European taxpayers with a bill estimated to be around £130m per
year. The cost of building the second parliamentary building in 1999
was £50m and there are 100 full time staff employed to maintain it
for the 12 monthly visits. None of the MEPs see the need to decamp
once a month and in a climate of economic austerity all are agreed
that this is an unnecessary expense and would like to see it scrapped
– except for the French, who have the power of veto on this
subject. This is not surprising given the financial boost and
prestige that it brings to the region whenever this circus comes to
town.
Once
again the wishes of the majority are scuppered by a lone objector.
Part
of the success and/or failure of the EU is tied into its desire to
appease everybody. Think how often a family sits in front of the TV
unable to agree on what to watch that evening; compare that to a
situation where representatives from 28 countries try to reach an
agreement on a single course of action. In my head I see 2
conflicting images, ‘He that pays the piper calls the tune’ and
‘giving turkeys a chance to vote on the future of Christmas’. My
head is full of conflicting images, but I am used to it and life goes
on no matter my state of confusion.
This
is not an article on the European Referendum, for which neither the
Remain or Brexit campaigners have put forward a sufficiently good
argument for their cause. I think most people will be aware of the
key arguments on the debate by now but I’m not sure that anyone
could explain the strategies that either camp would adopt were they
to win the vote.
In
the spirit of fairness I would point to another story that caught my
attention this week which demonstrates the UK’s capabilities as a
technological and economic power house. Only the British could build
an international airport on an exposed hilltop. The new airport on
the British dependency of St. Helena in the South Atlantic has taken
4 years to build at a cost of £285m to the taxpayer. Only upon
testing the runway was it learned that the crosswinds have posed such
a significant problem that it has been deemed unsafe and the opening
that was due to take place in May has now been delayed indefinitely.
Footage of a British Airways 737 attempting to land showed it
lurching from side to side and the wings flapping like a drunken
goose. My suspicion is that the preliminary testing was carried out
at the same wind tunnel laboratory where the labrats demonstrated
the inability of safety glass on high speed trains to survive the
impact in collision with a frozen chicken.
At
least the choice between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump is out of
our control. Unedifying as each of them is we Brits can do little
but sit back and await the outcome of the US elections in November.
June
is usually such a genteel month; the sound of leather upon willow,
the trooping of the colour, the smell of the barbecue as thoughts
turn towards holidays. This year seems to be particularly busy for
all sorts of reasons.
I
must admit that the build up to the European Football Championship
has been far more entertaining than the political posturing on either
side of the pond. This is not simply because for once we have a
strong representation by the home countries but it is rarely that I
have felt that the English have had a squad with such potential –
not being given to bouts of over-enthusiasm it could be ‘the
Leicester effect’ or maybe I have OD’d on my hayfever medication.
This
weekend sees the climax (or yet another climax) to the Queen’s 90th
birthday celebrations as well as the funeral of Mohamed Ali.
Thankfully both stories have managed to force the political rhetoric
off the front pages, if only for a few hours. Arguably they are 2 of
the most recognised icons of the 20th century and it is
right that we should honour their contributions and achievements. As
role models go you can only admire the dignity with which they have
lived their lives.
In
the background there is also the build up to Wimbledon as well as the
Olympic Games in Rio starting in August. The England have already
demonstrated their usual inconsistency, doubtless the footballers
will follow suit and Andy Murray will put us all through the mental
wringer as he frequently has.
With
so much going on it would be easy to overlook a story that personally
I find quite alarming and significant. One that I feel will run for
some time to come – that is the fall out from British Home Stores.
The
department store has been a staple of the British High Street since
1928 but has been in decline for many years. Sadly, the company could
not live up to their slogan of ‘Modern living, made easy’ and in
April they were placed into administration with debts of £1.3bn,
which included a £571m pension fund liability and puts 11,000 jobs
at risk. With no buyer in sight it will almost certainly mean that
the remaining stores will disappear within weeks.
What
has emerged since the announcement for liquidation has been the
turmoil over the past couple of years that has brought down this
company.
Like
many department stores their fortunes had fluctuated over the decades
but since the start of this century their path had been plotted by
serial entrepreneur and City darling, Philip Green. Having bought the
company for £200m in May 2000 the then owners sold it in March 2015
to Retail Acquisitions for a nominal value of £1, shortly after
which it was announced that 51 of the 171 stores were at risk of
closure.
It
is only this week that a parliamentary committee has been able to ask
some of the questions that seem to have escaped anyone’s attention
during this period. Ultimately, responsibility for filling the
pension blackhole will fall on the taxpayer, which perhaps explains
the government’s belated interest.
What
has emerged this week is that Dominic Chappell, the owner of Retail
Acquisitions is a former racing driver and entrepreneur who has been
declared bankrupt on 3 occasions and had very little experience of
the retail sector.
BHS
chief executive, Darren Topp, described Dominic Chappell to the
parliamentary committee as a
"premier league liar" and "Sunday pub-league retailer"
who had his "fingers in the till". He went on to
explain to MPs that when he objected to a £1.5 million transfer to a
company owned by a friend and fellow board member of Dominic
Chappell, Mr Chappell threatened to kill him if he made the
information public.
Mr.
Chappell was quick to point the finger at Philip Green for the
failure of the company and Mr. Green is scheduled to give evidence to
the committee on Wednesday.
Philip
Green’s financial dealings could hardly be described as transparent
given that his Arcadia group, the former parent owner of BHS, is
owned by Taveta Investments, the company owned by his wife, Lady
Tina Green.
Into
the mix we can also add yet another billionaire pantomime villain,
Mike Ashley, whose efforts to rescue the company amounted to nothing.
Just days before, he had agreed to attend the same parliamentary
committee to answer concerns about some of the working practices at
his own firm, Sports Direct.
It
has not been a good week for British business, especially when Brexit
have been banging the drum for British industry.
Following
the exploits of Robert Maxwell in the 1980s pension rules were
changed to ring fence pension funds giving them more protection.
Asset
stripping has always been a tawdry part of business life, I am not
sure whether the BHS débâcle constitutes pantomime, farce or has
the makings of a suspense movie. There should be serious questions
about the role of the pensions regulator in this case as well as the
need to review a business system that allows someone with a poor
track record to take control of a company and devastate so many
people’s lives.
