May 022013
 

Voice’s Old Susannah takes a look over the past week’s events in the ‘Deen and beyond. By Suzanne Kelly.

Tally Ho!  This past week there was an astonishingly great fashion show by Gray’s School of Art second and third year fashion students, held in The Seven Incorporated Trades of Aberdeen.
It was professionally organised, smoothly and elegantly run (with a great reception), and the work on show was by any standard advanced beyond the expected level.  More on that elsewhere in Aberdeen Voice.

Let’s take a bit of a break from Mr Trump this week I think.  Besides which, he’s about to issue writs to the Scottish Government and I’m really scared!  If Donald doesn’t want windfarms, Donald will take us to court!

When a law abiding man like that takes legal action, you know he’s not doing it frivolously.  I’m sure he’s got a point:  hardly anyone’s signing up for golf at Balmedie, and it’s almost as if the 6,000 jobs that were created might be in peril. 

This lack of golfers could be due to the sandstorms, hailstorms, rain and cold weather, but far more likely people are staying away in case they’d have to see a wind farm offshore.  If I’m going to spend £195 for a round of golf, then have a £100 lunch for two consisting of a few burgers, fries and coffees, I don’t want to be looking at windfarms, either.  For that kind of money, I want Led Zeppelin performing live.

I hear the Mayday march might be cancelled this year.  Since all of the labour force is now doing so very well under the Coalition Government, the unions decided there is no need for any display.  Things are almost as great as when the entire town marched against Kate Dean.

There is also to be a party and events in Union Terrace Gardens that afternoon, but since it is so full of criminals and drug smugglers, I’m sure we’ll all be too afraid to go there.  If only we could have had the granite web.

The beautiful granite-clad concrete web may be toast now, but then again, we look set to get some very fetching, brand new glass-box office buildings soon.  Really, how do these trendy architects come up with these great designs?

These happening, nearly modern buildings will replace St Nicholas’ House.  The complex will blend right into the local architecture of Marischal College and won’t stick out like a dated pastiche predictable cheap sore thumb whatsoever.  No doubt these glass box office buildings will look absolutely state-of-the art near the Milne Triple Kirks glass box office buildings and won’t seem old dated and dirty in 3 years or less.

Given the seagull and pigeon populations, this may be a good time to open a window cleaning business.

Norwich decided to encourage some peregrines to nest in their city centre

Speaking of Triple Kirks, poor Stewart certainly has had his difficulties lately.  He may have failed to get Scottish football teams to vote with him despite his use of reasoned debate, but at least he showed the city centre wildlife he was boss.

You may remember how Stewart Milne, saviour of Scottish Football and tasteful developer arranged to have the long-settled peregrine falcons ‘discouraged’ from nesting in the Triple Kirks site when he took it over.  Well done Stewart.

Unlike clever, business-orientated Aberdeen, Norwich decided to encourage some peregrines to nest in their city centre.  The people of Norwich surprisingly find their rare peregrines and the newly-hatched chicks a source of interest, tourism, pride and education as they and the wider world watch the birds on cctv.  More info here:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-norfolk-22368516 .

The RSBP believes there are fewer than 1400 breeding pairs in the UK.  With as many as that around, it is no wonder the previous Aberdeen City Council administration didn’t discourage Milne from discouraging the birds.  We need more office buildings you see.

As there is clearly not enough building work going on to placate important local contractors, some still cling to the possibility of turning Union Terrace Gardens into a parking lot/shopping mall, which we so desperately need.  What other explanation is there for the continued existence of the limited company which is the Aberdeen City Gardens Trust?

They’re still listed as an active company at Companies House, with directors Tom Smith, Lavinia Massie and of course Colin Crosby.  (I wonder how they managed to get so much positive Granite Web coverage in Chamber of Commerce publications?  Perhaps as a board member, Colin could help field the answer to this mystery.)  Then again, Colin is also on the Aberdeen Harbour Board, which now seeks to expand into the remaining coastal greenbelt.

An ambitious man, Colin; he’ll make us all rich yet.  Well, some of us rich anyway.

Between the ACGT, ACSEF, the Harbour Board, the Chamber of Commerce, Brewin Dolphin, and the board of Robert Gordon’s College, it’s a wonder Crosby hasn’t dropped any balls.

 we are all so weak-willed we’ll do whatever is made easy for us to do

For some reason I’m reminded of an episode of Dr Who in which invading aliens try to build monstrosities all over any green space they could all in the name of profit, although I can’t think why that should spring to mind just now.

Yes, it’s men like Colin who disprove the otherwise sound, logical government experiment in Nudge Theory.  I’m sure we all know what this important Nudge Theory is, but I’ll get onto it with a definition or two anyway.

Nudge Theory: (modern English jargon phrase) Behavioural theory that people are inherently lazy and need to be pushed into doing what is best for them.

The Nanny State lives on, and thank goodness for that.

It’s like this:  only the Colin Crosbys, Stewart Milnes and other rich businessmen aren’t lazy – the rest of us are.  Worse, we are all so weak-willed we’ll do whatever is made easy for us to do.  This highly-scientific theory is now a government triumph!  Result!  Not only is it part of the reason the country’s doing so well, but it’s also going to  be launched as an initiative!

And you thought there was no good news around.

The BBC covers this marvellous development, and supplies examples of what might otherwise sound like idiotic psychobabble.  For instance, if manufacturers put a label on a bottle of wine to the effect that the average person drinks one glass of wine a day, we’ll all follow suit and do just that.

School children will start eating healthier at lunchtimes too.  Why?  Because we’re going to put the tastier junk food items in locations that are more difficult to reach than healthier options.  This logic is brilliant!  You can see examples of how this works in the shops today.  Since lad’s mags, fags and booze are kept out of reach no one buys them because they’re too lazy to do so.

It’s clear this Nudge Theory is going to take off; it’s so easy to understand.

This scheme is going to make the government millions as well as make all of us safer and less stressed by having to think for ourselves.  I personally look forward to having my laziness used to steer me into good behaviour in this subtle manner.  It’s not at all Kafkaesque or Orwellian for the government to spend our time and our money on getting us to fall into line and be good.

But the really good news is that this will be a ….

Partnership Model: (modern English jargon) A business entity or company formed by government and private enterprise.

Well, since forming in 2010 the brains behind this great Nudge Theory scheme have really come together to ambitiously turn this scientific theory into a money-spinner.  Old Susannah has to wonder if people are inherently lazy, then what sets the people behind this Nudge Theory Partnership Model and their work to go into business with their scheme apart from the rest of us lazy, weak-willed populace.

I guess that they’re just smarter, better, brighter than we are.  Only to the worst kind of lazy cynic would this great humanitarian scheme look like a brazen wheeze and ploy to earn money for old and unnecessary rope.

Here’s what the BBC, lazy as they are, were able to find out:-

“It could become the first of “dozens” of elements of Whitehall to be spun out, as Cabinet Office Minister Francis Maude plans to shake-up the Civil Service.

“A spokesman for Mr Maude said: ‘We are in a global race for the jobs and opportunities of the future. To get Britain back on the rise we must find innovative ways to deliver better services more efficiently’. [Old Susannah wonders if Mr Maude was too lazy to make his own statement to the press, and had to be ‘nudged’ into releasing a statement by this spokesman]

“’It’s great news that the world-renowned ‘nudge’ unit is spinning out from central government. As a mutual they will combine the benefits of private sector experience and investment with the innovation and commitment from staff leadership.  This accelerates our drive to make public assets pay their way. We hope to support dozens more new spin outs over the next few years. This is a whole new growth area and Britain is leading the way.”

Well, I’m impressed.  We’re going to make money out of exploiting people’s natural fecklessness.

The government will join with a private company (no doubt one completely unrelated to any government ministers, tax avoiders or big business interests or lobbyists.  Then, they’ll sell the scheme back to the government, which will demand government offices buy into it.

Lazy?  I guess you could say fecklessness is off and running as a way to make profits.  Or something like that.

Group Four changed to G4S, and did a splendid job running the Olympics

I wonder what this great wheeze will wind up earning for the taxpayer over the years?  Undoubtedly we’ll all be better off.  Otherwise, they’ll just tell us we’ll be better off, and we’ll be too lazy and/or too stupefied by our one glass of wine a day to bother to find out the real story.

If I could only motivate myself to do some work, or even to open another BrewDog.

Ages ago the Government started privatising everything, and look how well that’s turned out.  For instance, Group Four security started running various prison services.  These went so well, Group Four changed to G4S, and did a splendid job running the Olympics without any problems at all.  Could the government complain if things went wrong?

Not really – the contracts were sewn up very well, government and private sector overlaps tended to help each other out or at least look the other way if problems arose, and lobbyists were always on hand with sweeteners to keep the cogs well oiled.  And so it will be with the private/public money-spinning Partnership Model, which will industriously make money out of the fact we the people are lazy.

Nudge Nudge wink wink indeed.

With the Mayday march about to take place, I think we should extend an invitation to the brave, pioneering, hard-working men and women behind Nudge Theory and the Partnership Model to come and join in.  I have no doubt that if our teachers, carers, volunteers, firemen, etc. could meet the Nudge professionals, they’d understand just what real hard work is.

I was going to write about the latest in relation to the standoff between the press and the government over press regulation.  I was going to write something about Trump, windfarms, and golf, but I realise that I’m just too lazy to do so.

So it’s off to watch some television until I fall asleep, and hope the government will give me some clear pointers on what to do and what not to do, but without me having to even know I’m being steered to do the right thing, as decided by the Nudge Theory think-tank.  As long as I don’t have to think too much, or do much, that’ll suit me fine.

Time for my one glass of wine.

Next week – more fecklessness, or possibly some recklessness.

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Nov 082011
 

With Remembrance Sunday approaching fast and the wearing of a poppy being de rigueur for every stuffed shirt and empty suit on TV, Voice’s Dave Watt thinks about 11 November.  

11 November falls on a Friday this year, so the dead will have to wait until Sunday to be remembered, as the powers that be don’t seem to think that remembering them on the actual Armistice Day would be convenient.
I mean, businesses might lose a whole two minutes profit and think what a disaster that would be for our thriving economy. After all, big business interests shovel money into party funds and one and a quarter million dead servicemen and women don’t. So, balls to them.

Armistice Day on 11 November was originally meant to signal the end of The War to End Wars, back in a time when that phrase wouldn’t bring forth a cynical snigger.

In fact, on my grandfather’s medals, hanging in a frame in my hallway, it refers to The Great War For Civilisation which shows that there were politicians in the 1920s capable of coming out with the same kind of drivel as George W Bush did with his ludicrous War on Terror ten years ago.

Presumably, at some time in the future there will be a War For Straight Bananas or a War For Fashionable Sandals or something equally weird.

Hopefully, this year will not feature such irretrievable tat as the Royal British Legion inviting The Saturdays to frolic half-naked in a sea of poppies or getting the judges on X Factor to wear grotesque poppy fashion items – two tasteless frolics which inspired ex-SAS soldier Ben Griffin to describe them as ‘stunts to trivialise, normalise and satirise war’. Griffin, in fact, went on to state that remembrance has been turned into ‘a month long drum roll of support for current wars’, a point of view it is increasingly difficult to disagree with.

My grandfather joined up in 1914 in the surge of patriotism engendered by Germany illegally invading Belgium; my uncle joined up in 1939 when Hitler illegally subjugated Poland. Presumably, if Tony Blair had been Prime Minister in 1914, we’d have joined in the illegal invasion and attacked tiny Belgium as we did with impoverished third world Afghanistan, not one of whose citizens had previously done us the slightest harm.

Then again, if Tony had been in charge in 1939 he’d surely have produced some shoddy dossiers to our gullible Parliament showing how those dastardly Poles were all set to attack peace-loving Nazi Germany and that they had weapons of mass destruction concealed in Cracow and Gdansk which could be deployed within 45 minutes.

Yes, if good old Tony had been on the case then, we could nowadays watch Wellington bombers joining the Stukas strafing the women and kids in Warsaw on World at War on Yesterday – with a suitably solemn voice-over courtesy of Laurence Olivier. God, wouldn’t that make us just so proud of ourselves?

No, the bottom line is that we’re not the Good Guys helping the Underdog against the Bully any more. We’re something quite different now.

If you were wondering what happened to my uncle and grandfather in their wars, my uncle died in Normandy in 1944 after fighting in North Africa, Italy and Sicily. My grandfather survived four years in the trenches but was wounded and mustard-gassed in 1918. The mustard gas steadily and horribly eroded his lungs over the years and he eventually died in 1955 aged 56, so the War for Civilisation got him in the end.

I also had a relative on board HMS Hood when the Bismarck sank her in the Denmark Straits in May 1941. He was not one of the three survivors.

It’s interesting to think that if my three relations had survived wars and lived until now that their reward from a grateful country would be to have some pampered ex-public schoolboy Tories and Lib Dems cutting their fuel allowances by £100 this winter.

I’ll have my own two minutes silence for my relations and all the rest – the ones who came back and the ones who didn’t.

On Friday.

Photo Credits –
Row Of Crosses © Mediaonela | Dreamstime.com  
Poppy At Newe July 2011 © Elaine Andrews

Sep 162011
 

Voice’s David Innes’ benchmark indicator of biographical literature quality is more or less, “Would I have a pint with this guy?” It was with some interest and not a little thirst that he approached the latest revelations from inside government, written by the man who achieved heady high office as President of the University of Aberdeen’s Student Representative Council in the mid-1970s and then went on to reputedly greater things.

Tabloid is a newspaper shape, although the term is now universally used to describe populist low-rent journalism. Not here at Voice where your screen size delineates layout and low-rent isn’t our way.
Tabloids’ views on Back From The Brink have been almost prurient in their seizing on the Darling-Brown relationship as their focus for summarising the book’s content and offering review.
Whilst this is interesting, and is probably welcome relief from the views of Debbie from Doncaster, 22, 38-22-36, on monetary policy within the Eurozone and its effect on Greek public expenditure, far more interesting is Darling’s take on the events and decisions forced upon him during his tenure in No 11, as the economic crisis of 2007 threatened to destroy global financial systems.

The former Chancellor’s view is that the Financial Services Authority (FSA) failed due to its never having had to deal with a financial crisis, as the regulatory system had only ever had to operate in good times.

When the chill economic breeze blew over the North Atlantic and the unregulated mortgage free-for-all was found not only to have been the preserve of US financial institutions, the UK banking system clammed up, investors panicked and the reliance on UK financial service companies for 25% of UK tax revenue was shown up for the short-term folly that it was. Not before those responsible had lined their own pockets, of course.

As banks pleaded poverty and our mortgages and pensions were put at risk, these self-same bankers, previously vocal in their demands to be left alone, free from governmental intervention, queued up at the Treasury door, looking for a bail-out, courtesy of Mr and Mrs Joseph Soap of Gullible-At-Sea, also demanding that the “toxic assets” (those’ll be debts which will never be paid, then) be taken on by taxpayers whilst the banks continued to rake off the top line from profit-making accounts.

It is to his credit that the Chancellor extracted significant pounds of flesh from these banks in charges for the liquidity handout they received.

Here’s a very interesting fact to ponder next time you’re trying to have a cheque cleared through our banking system, where processes move at the pace of traffic in King Street on a rainy Thursday night, the week before Christmas – $6bn was reputedly taken from the UK Lehman Brothers’ UK operation on a Friday evening so that it could be in the US operation’s empty coffers on the Monday morning. As the author observes, this

“demonstrates…how quickly money can be moved from one jurisdiction to another”.

Of course, when it suits the usurers.

It is to Darling’s credit that much of the technical content is made easy to understand, even to economic illiterates like your reviewer. He is also very clear on timescales, forensically-sharp on the decision-making processes and pays suitable tribute to a Treasury team worked to exhaustion putting measures in place to prevent meltdown.

He stints neither from taking credit for saving the banking sector – and by definition everything else in the economy – from collapse, nor shies away from admitting where errors were made.

Among those errors was the Prime Minister’s approach to the 2010 General Election. His “Tory cuts v Labour investment” was a line easily seen through, a false promise which the electorate didn’t buy. Darling’s view, over-ruled, was that voters could be persuaded that whilst cuts were to be made, they would accept that they did not need to be made to the degree and on the timescale gleefully endorsed and seized upon zealously by public sector-despising Tories and their Lib Dem patsies.

As sometimes sweet relief from the incessant round of IMF, G7 and G20 meetings, Spending Review speeches, Budget statements and Treasury late-night sessions, Darling writes affectionately about his family, the social and charitable aspect of life in No 11 and of his bolt hole in the Hebrides. He comes across as mild-mannered, thoughtful, loyal and reliable. He describes himself as “managerial”. That’s a fair self-assessment.

Of course, this insider account is one-sided, although credible. It will be interesting as others’ takes on the financial crisis are published and comparisons can be made.

So, would I have a pint with the former Chancellor? Yes, without a doubt, if only to point out that “the late Tommy Docherty” referred to on page 119, is very much alive.

Your round Alistair, just don’t put it on expenses.

Back From The brink. 1000 Days at No. 11
Alistair Darling
Atlantic Books.
ISBN 9 780 85789 279 9
337pp

£19.99

Jun 112011
 

Neil Cooney, Aberdeen City Councillor for Kincorth/Loirston, shares his Uncle’s life story with Voice readers.  Bob Cooney grew up all too familiar with loss and hardship during that period when the concept of Socialism was also growing up.  The saying goes, ‘Those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it.’  In the present day, Bob’s situation in the late 1920s has a powerful echo today:

“The traditional Treasury answer was that the problems would eventually sort themselves out; we simply had to weather the storm. In the meantime budgets had to balance and we had to save our way out of the crisis. This meant cuts in spending, cuts in benefits and cuts in public sector salaries”.

And so the story – in three parts – begins.

Bob Cooney was born in Sunderland in 1908, the seventh child of an ambitious Aberdeen family. His father, a cooper, had moved around the country chasing promotion. Less than two years previously the sixth child, George (Dod) had been born in Edinburgh.

Father was a fit man, an athlete, a champion swimmer, winner of the exhausting Dee to Don Swim, a water-polo player of some note, and good enough on the bowling green to win the Ushers Vaux Trophy in 1903.

It therefore came as a total shock when months later he died suddenly of pneumonia contracted on the way home from a funeral in Aberdeen.

His widow Jane had just turned 37; she was left with seven children, none of whom were of an age to earn. It was at a time when welfare was only beginning to be debated: it was still a case of all words and no action. The right of the governing Liberal Party and the Tory dominated House of Lords both shared the view that welfare would destroy the moral fibre.

She had little hope but take her brood back to Aberdeen where at least the support of relatives could tide her over the next few difficult weeks. They came by boat from Newcastle. Rooms had been found for them in Links Place: there they were soon to be burgled of what little they possessed. The children were enrolled at St Andrews Episcopal School. Jane got a job cleaning HM Theatre, with extra evening work as a dresser for the big shows. She was fiercely independent and ruled her brood with a rod of iron. Times were tough and she had to be tough to survive. Bob and Dod, in particular, often tasted the back end of the hairbrush.

In time, the family moved first to Northfield Place, then to Rosemount Viaduct where Jane, although very frail but would not admit it, was employed as a caretaker of the five blocks of flats. This entailed a lot of scrubbing and polishing, helped by the children as they grew up. The family stayed in Rosemount Viaduct until the 1950s when medical needs provided them with a move to Manor Drive; by then her daughter Minnie was virtually immobile.

Schooling at St Andrews Episcopal was fairly basic, but the children gained the necessary skills of literacy and numeracy to fit them for future life. Bob and Dod were both clever enough to reach the top of the class at eleven: there they remained until they left school at 14. The boys cleaned the school before and after classes. Each of them also served in the choir, as reluctant volunteers.

Bob took over Dod’s Watt and Milne job at the age of twelve, fitting it in before and after school

They were not alone in their poverty. One fellow pupil was tempted to steal a sausage from a Justice Street butcher’s display. Unfortunately, for him, it was but the end of a huge link of sausages: he was quickly caught and brought to justice – some six lusty strokes of the birch: he bore the scars for the rest of his life.

A young girl classmate remained barefoot even in the height of winter. A teacher bought her sturdy boots, which were later thrown at her by an angry father who declared that if his daughter needed boots, then he would provide them. Schooling was never boring. Bob, being younger, was let out of school before Dod, but had to wait for him to escort him home. Bob even in his youngest days was adventurous enough to prove his own capacity to see himself home: his early homecoming was enough to get them both a hiding.

The children were all given a trade. Matthew never qualified: he died in his teens. Young Jean went into service before training as a nurse: she provided the younger children with the tender loving care that her mother was unable to do. She never married, neither did Minnie who became a seamstress and spent much of her life cruelly crippled.

Tom was a carpenter; he was to die very young, leaving a young family. Sandy was a French polisher in the shipyards, he remained a bachelor, he spent his weekends cycling and hostelling, and he loved books and music and was an expert in Esperanto.

Dod spent a few months as an errand boy for Watt and Milne before becoming an apprentice watchmaker with Gill’s of Bridge Street before moving on to the Northern Coop, where he worked until he retired.

Bob took over Dod’s Watt and Milne job at the age of twelve, fitting it in before and after school. His early morning job consisted of cleaning the plush carpets, usually on his hands and knees; after school he was the delivery boy carrying hatboxes to the West End. On leaving school, Bob was apprenticed to a pawnbroker.

He never believed that the ruling class would give in to mere arguments

The pawnshop was an alternative to debt. It provided the coppers required to see you through the week. Men’s suits would go in on a Monday morning and be redeemed on Saturday morning, still in the neat brown paper parcel.

If the suit was needed through the week for a funeral, then the neat parcel was filled with old newspapers. Bob allowed himself to be easily deceived. He had many a laugh with the customers but he hated the pawnshop system.

Poverty was beginning to anger him. He was listening to the debates at the Castlegate; it was his finishing school. He became a Socialist, and then he took the next step by becoming a Communist. He never believed that the ruling class would give in to mere arguments. It needed a revolution and that required the active participation of the people.

Stubborn, Strong and Single Minded

Bob became a speaker out of necessity – there was no one else around to do the job. He became a speaker in his teens, honing his technique over the years. His mother didn’t like his political involvement, and firmly drew the line at his ambitions as a speaker. He had to stop or get out of her home – he got out for a while to escape the unbearable tension. His antics, as she saw them, were taking away from her the respectability that she had earned the hard way. She had already followed his route through the streets, scrubbing the slogans he had chalked on the pavements. How could he let her down like this?

In many ways, Bob took after his mother. Both could be stubborn, strong and single-minded. Both set themselves very high standards. Jane was perplexed that Bob had gone down the route that Sandy and Dod had already chosen. Dod was receiving letters from the House of Commons, and although he managed to intercept some by following the postie, much to her horror she discovered his dark secret.

She worried that if her employers found out, she could lose her job and become homeless.

The TUC leadership lost touch with the rank and file. It was a huge disappointment to the Aberdeen Socialists

Why, after the hard years of struggle to bring them up, did they disgrace her in this way?

The girls were good church-going Christians, but the boys were meddling in Left-wing politics. She was black affronted.

She was also scared: political tempers were running high in 1926, the year of the General Strike and Churchill’s “British Gazette” was deliberately playing the Red Menace card. “Reds under the beds?” she seemed to have a house full of them.

The General Strike was a let-down to the idealists of the Left. They felt that they had the potential for power — until the TUC chickened out and called off the strike. It drove a wedge between the Far Left and the Left; it was a defining moment that the broad kirk split apart.

Old comrades now put up candidates against each other. The TUC leadership lost touch with the rank and file. It was a huge disappointment to the Aberdeen Socialists who had completely controlled the city. Nothing moved without a permit or without the strikebreaking students being stopped. Aberdeen even produced its own strike newspaper. The Tory government controlled the national media with Churchill thundering about the ‘red menace’ in the “British Gazette”, and a procession of Cabinet ministers hogging the microphones of the BBC.

After the Strike collapsed, the jubilant Tories extracted every ounce of revenge. New anti-Trade Union legislation was rushed through. The Unions were to be further weakened by the Depression.

Unemployment had been high since the Great War; our heavy industries suffered badly from foreign competition. We couldn’t compete with the price of Polish coal, our factories were screaming for re-investment.  Even British companies chasing bargains abroad bypassed our shipyards. Chancellor Churchill’s 1925 decision to go back to the Gold Standard was a mistake of the highest order, making our exports far too expensive.

This meant cuts in spending, cuts in benefits and cuts in public sector salaries

The killer blow came with the shockwaves of the 1929 Wall Street Crash. Unemployment soared and the Insurance Scheme could no longer self-finance. The traditional Treasury answer was that the problems would eventually sort themselves out; we simply had to weather the storm.

In the meantime budgets had to balance and we had to save our way out of the crisis. This meant cuts in spending, cuts in benefits and cuts in public sector salaries.

In 1931, the Labour Cabinet split over a proposed cuts package and resigned, leaving the renegade Ramsay MacDonald (“Ramshackle Mac”) to hold on to power by forging an alliance with Baldwin’s Tories in the National Government. Bob slated Labour for abandoning the poor. The Communist candidate in Aberdeen North in 1931, Helen Crawford, gave Wedgewood Benn a torrid time in the ensuing election campaign that saw the largely anonymous Conservative Councillor Burnett of Powis romp home in Aberdeen North, a seat that had been a Labour stronghold for the last five elections.

The National Government produced a vicious cuts package that provoked a wave of anger that culminated in a rather polite naval mutiny at the Invergordon base. Among the 12,000 mutiny participants were Sam Wilde and Bill Johnstone, who later served with valour in Spain. The mutiny triggered a run on the banks and forced the Government, in panic, to come off the Gold Standard and devalue. It was the best piece of economic management that they ever produced.

Next week in Aberdeen Voice, Cllr. Neil Cooney  continues his account of Bob Cooney’s amazing and inspirational life. In part 2 we learn of Bob’s political education, encounters with Mosely’s Blackshirts, and the Spanish Civil War.

 

Apr 222011
 

By John Sangster.

I recently paid a visit to my local council to hand in a form for a Blue Badge. A Blue Badge is the notice you put on your windscreen if you are disabled and can therefore park for free, close to the shops and other amenities.
I am very active in my community, and I chair the Inverurie Community Council, recently chaired The Garioch Area Partnership and played an active role in setting up the Aberdeenshire Rural Partnerships Federation.

At some places I have arrived for a meeting only to find there is nowhere to park, and once I ended up about half a mile away, so a Blue Badge would be ideal.

I should describe my disability. I suffered from polio when I was a baby.  Polio is a muscle-wasting disease which has left me with a left leg with no muscle which is also over an inch shorter that the right one. Let’s just say I stick out in a crowd and you can see me coming.

I had filled in my form for the badge and went to the council headquarters to hand it in; this is an account of what happened, I handed in the form and the man said:-

“Thank you very much; we’ll get that off to your doctor.”

“Why do you need to send it to my doctor?” I asked

“Because we have to ascertain if what you said on the form is what you are actually suffering from.”

“But I’m standing in front of you, you just watched me come up the stairs to get here”, I replied.

“Yes, but you have to go through the system, we can’t just hand out badges to anybody, thank very much we’ll be in touch.”

So off I went home, only to be phoned later in the day, and a man asked:

“You put on your form that you use the Inverurie Medical Practice, but you haven’t put the name of your doctor.”

“I didn’t know I had a doctor, it’s a practice I just use one that I can get” I answered.

“No” he said, “you need a doctor’s name or we cannot process your claim.”

So I jumped in my car, went down to the Health Centre and was told that the doctor I had registered with had died 9 years ago, and I was now registered with a Dr Allan. I returned home and phoned the council and told the man my doctor at Inverurie was Dr Allan.

The man at the council asked me:

“What’s his first name?”

After I picked myself off the floor, I just told him:

“Vic,”

.…and the man responded with:

“Thank you, we’ll be in touch.”

On Tuesday morning I was phoned by Dr Allan who had some questions; he had received the form although he pointed out the Council had sent it to Vic Allan, when his name was in fact Robert, but I digress. He had some questions:-

Q 1:   ‘Am I in pain when I walk?’  I answered “No, if I was I’d go to the doctor.”

Q 2:  ‘How far can you walk without feeling tired?’  I answered “It depends how tired I am when I start.”

Q 3:   ‘Can you walk further than 100 metres?’  I answered “Yes, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

I realised that these were in fact “loaded questions” and were designed to get me to withdraw my claim there and then. If I was in pain and could only walk a few metres, I may get a badge – but then if I was, I’d probably be in hospital and a badge would be no use to me, another one off the list – target achieved.

The truth is that a blind person would have ascertained that I am disabled, they would have said to me:

“you have one leg shorter than the other, I can tell by the vibrations.”

the sick and disabled don’t really matter as long as we give them a few hand-outs now and then

The Tory Government is beginning its purge on the sick and disabled, urged on by the land owners and other assorted Tory toffs in rural England.  The Government is proposing alterations and cuts to two of the most important benefits available to the sick and disabled, The Employment Support Allowance, (ESA) and the Disability Living Allowance (DLA).

The Department of Work and Pensions has given each Job Centre in the country a target, the object being to get as many people off the lists as possible.

For example, a friend of mine knows of a case in England where a  person with a  thalidomide related disabilty, having no arms or legs and who relies on a wheelchair to go anywhere, has had their disabled parking right removed.

The government have scrapped the DLA and replaced it with The Personal Independence Payment, (PIP), made up of two components, The Daily Living and The Mobility Component:  it is the former that we must resist. Under the new mobility component, the meaning of disability has been changed; for example, under the current DLA rules someone in a wheelchair is considered disabled, under the new rules this may be amended if you use a wheelchair but can leave the house, then under the planned changes you do not qualify as being disabled.

We could sit for a long time and not make up anything like this. It is draconian, it is brutal and it smacks of Thatcherism. We as a nation seem to be still worshipping at the altar of Margaret Thatcher with her notion that the free market economy is all that matters and that the sick and disabled don’t really matter as long as we give them a few hand-outs now and then.

Private consultation firms are now processing claims; these firms are only paid on a target-based system whereby they earn more if they reject people’s claims for benefit. You won’t find any of this in the news programmes, nor will you find it any of the Scottish election drivel that comes in your letter box daily. It is a “sweep under the carpet” subject that the politicians don’t want to talk about. It is being put forward by the Tories and their willing lackeys, The Liberal Democrats.

Coalition? What coalition?  They’re all Tories as far as I can see – shame on the lot of them.

Sangy

Photography credit – disabled parking, © Graksi | Dreamstime.com
http://www.dreamstime.com/free-stock-photo-invalid-parking-place2-rimagefree1358301-resi3350874