Labour party conference causes chaos

Steve Ahearne 27/09/09

The Labour party conference asks more questions than it answers.

I live in the safest street in Britain. If you have been wondering where all the police officers have been this weekend, the answer is here. Brighton. My street to be precise.
I have the (mis)fortune to be able to witness how a police state really looks... and I can tell you that it is pretty scary.
Due to the Labour party conference held two minutes walk from my flat I have passed no less than thirty police officers between here and the shops. That's not counting the armed police, dog handler units, nondescript security personnel, constant helicopter fly-bys, police vans, cars, cycles and motorbikes. The smell of police issue shoe polish and public service (or is that bacon?) is near overwhelming. Many of the roads are blocked off, a covered bridge has been erected over the road between the two hotels the party are using (they have literally knocked a hole in the side of one hotel just to accommodate this one-weekend-only bridge, at great cost no doubt).

The sea front promenade is festooned with huge bollards erected on the walkways forcing casual pedestrians and cyclists to collide together with alarming regularity (A defence against Al-Queda suicide cyclists I presume).
A group of Guantanamo Bay protesters dressed in orange jumpsuits and clutching mega-phones shout their discontent at the first floor balcony of the hotel where Jack Straw and Peter Hain give television interviews. They artfully manage to pretend that the protesters aren't there, and given the elevated position of the balcony all the viewers at home can see is the idyllic setting of Brighton beach awash with glorious September sunshine in the background. Pan up to the next floor and two police marksmen scan the crowd with binoculars. Pan down to street level if you please Mr. Cameraman, the scene looks decidedly more ugly here.
I've already mentioned the massively OTT police presence, the bollards and the jumpsuited protesters but amongst this thrall of Brightonians and the long (long, long, long) arm of the law we find a further collection of decidedly under-represented pressure groups. A solitary man sits on a bench with a hand written plaque extolling the benefits of an independent England. Not one person pays the blindest bit of notice.
A beardy chap with a crudely drawn T-shirt emblazoned with 'UK USA = Torture' tries to force some equally crudely drawn literature into the sweaty palms of a disinterested public. Do these people really believe that Mr. Brown will walk past, see their plaques and exclaim in his famed Scottish brogue “That's it for me then! You have it all sussed, I'm off for a nice lie down, politics is boring anyway Jimmeh!”. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the effort, but can the trumpeting of a one man band ever compare to the full orchestra? Does this current government even have the ears to listen anyway?
A little further from the chaos outside Labours' favoured hotel (is it favoured because The Iron Lady nearly got her come-upance here when the IRA bombed the place? Had to wonder!) I come across six, yes six, police standing around guarding a post box. Your mail is safe Brighton.

So this is what a police state looks, feels and smells like; Terrifying, in a word. Why do even totally innocent law abiding types like myself always feel guilty of something when presented with a massed police force? The real villainous issue here can be summed up in question format; Who is paying for all this? We must be talking Millions of pounds we're told we don't actually have. I'm sure the cost of the policing for this conference alone could furnish every major high street across the country with a 'bobby-on-the-beat' for a clear year.
Could our spendthrift post-recession government be squandering the public coffers needlessly? It's not my place to say.
One plus point though is that I'm getting value for money on the policing portion of my council tax; if only for one weekend.

Unemployment and banking.

Steve Ahearne 29/09/09

Unemployment could be solved by the banks who created it.

Unemployment is becoming endemic and symptomatic of Britain's youth in recent times. Those under thirty are being hit hardest for multifarious reasons: a lack of experience, a lack of appropriate qualifications (even degrees are hugely devalued compared to our parents generation), not being ethnic enough, being too ethnic, the list could fill this entire article, so I shall refrain.

I find myself in the same predicament. Whilst a career as a writer would be the dream, the more realistic (and I keep telling myself short term) measure would be an administration role. Unfortunately there is such severe competition for these roles that I have bitten the bullet and started applying for anything. Bar work, cleaning jobs, part time roles, anything. Yet still no joy.

Now, having lots of spare time on my hands may sound quite nice to many of you, and for many unemployment is not just a temporary set back but a way of life. There are huge swathes of the population happily claiming all the benefits they can lay their hands on (I know this first hand having previously worked in a jobcentre – oh the irony!) with no intention of ever finding work. There are even generations of unemployed people who dutifully pass on the tricks and tips necessary to evade employment to their children.

I am not one of these people.

Given my current circumstances I would love nothing more than to sit idly by and wait for the chime of the cash register as I clock up yet more benefits: housing benefit, council tax benefit, jobseekers allowance, disability benefit, child benefit and crisis loans to name but a brief selection.

My problem however is this; I can't get any. At all.

Due to having been foolish enough to try to improve my lot through University study and living with a partner who has the downright gall to work at all, the government has deemed it fitting that I should be left to rot. The bills keep coming, the banks keep charging and everybody wants to get paid. “But how shall I pay?” I ask. “Would you accept my teeth? Maybe my hair or my internal organs would suffice?”. Sadly ones own body is not deemed acceptable as payment.

The most galling aspect of this farce for me is the behaviour of the banks. They have single handedly managed to near bankrupt one of the richest countries in the world, been bailed out via the public coffers of said country and show not one ounce of compassion for the predicament many thousands like myself find ourselves in.

When attempting to obtain a payment break from a personal loan repayment obligation I currently have with one high street bank (not naming names so I shall substitute their moniker for one of my own devising, lets say 'HSBB') under the pretence of literally having no money to pay them I was told “We would be happy to restructure your loan repayments, when can you pay?”,

“I don't know” I said “I don't have a job, but as soon as I do I will do my best to pay you promptly”.

“I'm sorry but until you can tell us when you can pay you will have to pay.”

“But that's ridiculous, I can't pay because I don't have any money”

“Sorry about that”

“So what you're saying is; if I had the money to pay then you would help me?”

“Yes”

“So how do you help people who can't pay?”

“We don't”.

“Could you then, please not charge me a penalty fine for the missed payments over the next couple of months”

“No”

“But those penalty fines on top of the actual missed payments mean I'm even further from being able to pay you back!” I exclaimed aghast.

“Get a job.”

Get a job. The advice of an Indian call centre worker working the phone lines exclusively for British banking. Why are these jobs not in Britain? There are thousands, nay hundreds of thousands of call centre jobs outsourced from the British Isles with the express purpose of serving people in the British Isles. Since the banking institutions are the reason for this mass unemployment, could the government not force them to re-source the jobs back here (is the opposite of outsourcing insourcing or re-sourcing? hmm).

Hundreds of thousands of people would immediately be able to work again, unemployment would be slashed by a significant number and because these new British call centre agents would have a wage, they would be taxed, they would spend money (on repaying bank loans amongst other things no doubt), they would be contributing to the National Insurance pot thus helping to ease the financial burden on the other tax payers. They would need shops to purchase all manner of goods leading to further employment for even more people.

There would be unemployment in India which is a shame, but if things continue like they are here there won't be anybody left with a bank account to facilitate the need for someone to answer the bleedin' phone in the first place. Either here or in India.

Come on Big Gord! If I can fashion a workable idea in a twenty minute article such as this then why can't you do something?

Every single bank that was bailed out or even borrowed so much as a shiny penny from the public coffers should be forced to move their call centres and all other outsourced departments back here. If their business abroad is set up to deal with British banking and British people then what right do they have to snub the people of Britain? The same people they are so willing to rip-off with scandalous bank charges, the same people they refuse to help through these troubled times, the same people they fail to actually employ themselves.

At the end of the day the banks owe us, big time.

As for me I guess I'll just have to hope that Big Gord Brown manages to come up with something before the cupboard runs empty and before those penalty charges start rolling in.

Now how do I go about acquiring a one-way ticket to Delhi...?