A Script About a Script

March 28th, 2009 by Eric

I have been wanting to tell you all something for a while, but it has been a struggle to find the way to do it…

Ezistopheles: No, No, NO! Too wimpy a start. You have to be bolder, more courageous, more confident.

Angelic Eric: Don’t listen to him, Eric. That’s a very good beginning. Humility is a virtue.

Ezistopheles: Forget false modesty. You rock! Don’t be afraid to tell them so.

I would, if you let me get on with it. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I was just saying…

Ezistopheles: Well, you’d better introduce us now, or everybody will be confused about who we are.

Okay. I suppose now you have butted in, I better had. Some of you readers may have met them previously, but for those who have not, let me introduce my two internal voices. First, there is my conscience, the ever gracious and considerate ‘Angelic Eric’…

Angelic Eric: Oh, thank you. You’re too kind.

… and then there is my inner git, ‘Ezistopheles’…

Ezistopheles: Thanks for nothing. I suppose that’s what you get for trying to do someone a favour.

They have been helping me, in their own inimitable fashion, to write today’s blog. What I wanted to tell you was…

Ezistopheles: Why don’t you show them a photo of us?

Angelic Eric: That might be rather jolly. It would also demonstrate that we’re not just figments of your deranged psyche.

I only have the one photo, and I have grown a beard since then.

Ezistopheles: They want to see us, not you.

Okay then. Here is the photo of the three of us.

A photo of Eric with his internal voices

Angelic Eric: Why do always pull a face whenever someone takes a photo? You should smile more.

Ezistopheles: Never mind his ugly mug. What about telling the readers which is which in the photo. I’m the one on the left, wearing the cool leathers.

I think they could have worked that out for themselves. May we continue now?

Ezistopheles: Get on with it then.

Angelic Eric: Please proceed.

I have been working on a script…

Ezistopheles: Is it better than this one?

Angelic Eric: It’s a lot better than this one.

I beg your pardon!?!?

Angelic Eric: Erm… not that there is anything wrong with this one. Erm… I just mean that you have spent months writing Cosmic Corridors whilst you banged this out in under an hour.

Ezistopheles: Heh heh heh. You gave away the title now. Heh heh.

Angelic Eric: Darn. Sorry about that.

Maybe I should start again…

Ezistopheles: Come on, we’ve got this far. Let’s not prolong this agony any longer than we have to.

You are right. I have been working on a script for a half-hour radio comedy.

Angelic Eric: Tell them what it’s about.

It is about two thirty-something losers…

Ezistopheles: It’s based on a true story.

Angelic Eric: Don’t be so mean!

… who discover their house has doorways to other planets.

Ezistopheles: Alright, that bit isn’t drawn from real life.

Angelic Eric: I’m still a teensy weensy bit worried that it sounds like it’s only for sci-fi buffs.

Well, you should not worry about that. I was going to say it is a mixture of Seinfeld, Doctor Who and the vintage Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road movies.

Angelic Eric: You mean like Road to Morocco? I love Dorothy Lamour in those movies.

Yes, exactly, but we are wandering off the point. The doorways lead to other planets because you cannot make comedies about going to Morocco and being chased by people trying to cut your head off any more. That would be culturally insensitive to Moroccans.

Ezistopheles: But I suppose it’s okay to make fun of Venusians, is it?

Now you are just being silly.

Angelic Eric: Will there be singing, like when Bing Crosby sings ‘Moonlight Becomes You’ to Dorothy?

Yes, there will be some singing, although it is more for laughs than anything else. We actually recorded the script ourselves, so people can listen to it and hear the dialogue, music, sound effects and everything. They can listen to it over the web or download it to their mp3 player, or even subscribe via iTunes.

Angelic Eric: Who wrote the music? You may be a wonderful writer, but you don’t know one end of a keyboard from the other.

My friend Matt wrote the music. Hence we called it Matt & Eric’s Cosmic Corridors.

Ezistopheles: I thought the characters were also called Matt and Eric. Isn’t that a bit confusing?

I do not see why it would be confusing. Most people can tell fiction from reality without too many problems.

Ezistopheles: I was more worried about you being able to tell fiction from reality. After all, this is you having a conversation with yourself.

Angelic Eric: So if it’s not just for sci-fi buffs, where does the humour come from?

Mostly the humour relates to the bickering between the characters.

Angelic Eric: You’re very good at writing bickering characters.

Ezistopheles: No he’s not.

Angelic Eric: Yes he is.

Ezistopheles: No he’s not.

We should let the audience decide whether it is funny or not.

Ezistopheles: Fair enough, but how do people listen to this so-called comedy? Sounds like it’s more of a farce, heh heh heh.

It is on the internet, at http://cosmic-corridors.com/.

Ezistopheles: Great, so what are the readers doing over here at Halfthoughts? They should be visiting Cosmic Corridors and enjoying the laugh riot of your new comedy.

Well, the website is not completely finished yet, but it seems silly to stop people from listening whilst we add a few minor final touches. So I suppose you are right, they should be over there and listening!

Ezistopheles: But you still intend to waste your time writing stuff over here at Halfthoughts, don’t you?

Yes I do, but I do not consider it a waste of time, thank you.

Angelic Eric: You forgot to mention that people should sign the guestbook at Cosmic Corridors and they should also tell all their friends to listen too.

Ezistopheles: They should tell their friends they like it even if they don’t.

Angelic Eric: That’s not very moral. They should only tell Eric they like it even if they don’t.

Excuse me?

Angelic Eric: That didn’t come out right.

Ezistopheles: Let’s hope the lines come out better in Cosmic Corridors than they did just then.

I think that is that. We did it, we told the readers. What a relief.

Ezistopheles: I don’t think they understood.

Why do you say that?

Ezistopheles: Because if they understood, they’d have gone to Cosmic Corridors already, instead of still being here reading this!

Posted in comedy | No Comments »

Privacy: Losing Our Virginity

March 21st, 2009 by Eric

If you type my postcode into Google maps, you see a lovely, flat, open field of grass. There is no house to be seen. Thankfully, Google’s modern equivalent of the Gestapo has yet to take an up to date photo of the locale. Instead of seeing my house at street view, the best you can get is a helicopter view of what the patch of ground that it was built on looked like more than five years ago. That is lucky for me, because the patch of ground is far prettier than my house. Imagine trying to sell your house if, instead of the cleverly-angled photos to give the best impression the day after you clipped the hedge, first impressions were based on Googlestapo’s street view. ‘Click’ goes the shutter, and your house is immortalized, whether you like it or not. Now anyone can see all those ugly signs that the council (always careful not to waste money, they assure us) finds necessary to erect immediately outside. For example, there is a very big sign, the purpose of which seems to be to inform the people living across the street to be careful because there is a cycle lane. There is no evidence of a cycle lane, unless the cycle lane is supposed to the strip of pavement that doubles up as being where people are supposed to walk. There was a time when the law said cyclists were supposed to cycle on the road, and leave the sidewalk so people could perambulate in peace. Nobody seems to take that law seriously any more, since cyclists were somehow elevated to saviours of the planet and hence in need of the tender loving care that only the state’s endless pot of borrowing can provide.

It is not like I have ever seen a cyclist riding along outside my house. My house is not on the way from anywhere to anywhere else, so the only people who might ride a bike outside my house are either starting or ending their journey very close by. It is beyond me how protecting their interests, by warning anyone who happens to look at the sign to be careful, is a public spending priority. For a start, any drivers may be better advised to keep their eyes on the road, instead of reading this ridiculous sign which only tells them to do what they should be doing anyway.

“How does the defendant plead?”

“Not guilty.”

“But we have video evidence and ten eyewitness accounts from bystanders, all saying your Range Rover piled into the Hatfield elderly ladies cycling club at 247 mph, killing eight and seriously injuring another thirty-seven, not to mention the substantial damage done to the bicycles, some of which were beyond repair.”

“Ah yes, but I contend that the council hadn’t erected a sign telling me not to do it.”

Then, you have to ask exactly how dangerous the road is anyway, for the few cyclists that might ever be using it. The speed limit is twenty miles per hour. It is a quiet back road, and not a rat run to anywhere in particular. A car may drive along it once every ten minutes, perhaps once every five minutes at peak time. There are speed bumps every few hundred yards. So how does the council decide to prioritize the spot outside my house as needing uglification in the cause of cycling safety?

What you would not see, if Googlestapo took an up to date photo of my house, is any evidence of a litter bin so people can throw their rubbish away. So what you would see, in just such a photo, is a lot of litter on the ground. There is an empty bottle of Lucozade lying on the ground next to the cycling safety sign, for instance. I do not know how you should measure the public need for cycle lanes and the public need for signs to protect people using cycle lanes and the public need for signs to protect people using cycle lanes even though there is no cycle lane. I also do not know how you compare these public needs with the public need to provide bins where people can throw away their rubbish. Even so, it seems to me that my community fairly obviously needs more litter bins and could have done without the cycling safety sign. Perhaps common sense is the only way to decide between spending on signs and spending on bins. Which is probably why the council struggles to measure it amongst their targets.

“We’re getting a lot of criticism that we don’t show enough common sense.”

“I can’t understand that. Nobody has shown us a report saying we’re falling short of our common sense targets. Isn’t common sense up 12% on the same quarter last year.”

“No sir. Erm, I don’t think we measure common sense. And I’m pretty sure we don’t have a target for it.”

“Well, that’s where we’re going wrong. How can we have more common sense unless we measure whether we have more common sense? We need a target for common sense. That makes sense to me.”

“Errr… how do we set a target for common sense, sir?”

“Do I have to do all the thinking for you? We set the common sense target the same way as we set all the other targets. Pay some consultants to do it for us. And then make the target 25% easier so we have some slack.”

So here I am, in a housing slump, when nobody can borrow the money or wants to buy a house, and the government has decided that what we need is another 15,000 new houses built nearby, right next to all the newly-built houses that have signs reading:


“House to let.
House is completely new and nobody can afford it.
Please take it off our hands at a greatly reduced price, even if it is just for a short while.
Yours faithfully,
The Builders.”

In the midst of this disaster which will depress my house price until 2020, by which time they will be spending public money on building houses on Mars, Googlestapo wants to show the whole world photos of my house and the neighbouring houses, and hence why they should not want to live there. Great. Just what I needed.

The thing about privacy is that it is one side of a zero-sum game with information. Somebody finds out some information they did not know before, but somebody else loses their privacy. Not all information is private, but in our legality-obsessed world, we are reducing all information to the black and white categories of public and private. There used to be more shades of grey about who could know what. Friends and family might have information that did not get shared with the world. Your neighbours might know the state of your garden, but your boss would not. The difficulty of gathering information was an effective way of filtering who got to know what. Now, as Google pursues its mission to make gathering information infinitely easier, we are left with no filters, no shades of grey - only the final defence of the ‘private’.

How far is going too far? It is a question many a young woman has had to struggle with. Where do you draw the line, and insist “no means no”? What can you say yes to, without suffering the accusation that you were “leading on” the other party? Google’s need to share pictures of our houses and streets, and of the people walking along them, is the information equivalent of heavy petting. We may enjoy it with some people, but most of us would be selective about who we share it with. It is not rape, but we know there is a danger if it gets out of hand, and we know we may be skirting closer to the line that has to be drawn. Of course, there are many information sluts. People who blog and twitter and tell you all sorts of things about themselves that you really did not want to know - like whether a public safety sign has been erected outside of their house. But even the sluts want to control what information they give away. Even the information whores might chose not to tell you everything about themselves. In the end, a prostitute might refuse to kiss a client. And even if there are information sluts, that does not mean we all choose to be so free with giving away our secrets.

Google’s mission to show the world at street level goes beyond the wholesome and dabbles with the voyeuristic. Just like a low-cut dress or a high-cut skirt is not an invitation, but it is a flirtation, people need to be realistic about the impact of what they show to the world. The effect, whether on strangers or on people they know, will not always be a good one. Doing the right thing would be easier if evil were black and white, like Google’s corporate philosophy suggests. In this case, Google are not clothing themselves in the heavy black of evil, they are dressed in the dark grey of being irresponsible. What one lady finds to be healthy attention may be deeply upsetting to another. To protect people, we must err on the side of caution. We do not lift up somebody’s skirts and wait to see if we get slapped, concluding that if no slap comes then no harm was done, and if slapped that we did wrong and will not raise the skirt of that lady again. Yet that is exactly the approach of the Googlestapo, as they catalogue and index the world at street level. If you have an objection to one of their photographs, then they will take it seriously and remove it from the internet. You might as well promise to say sorry to the girl whose skirt you lifted. It is too late then. Privacy is like virginity. Once lost, it stays lost. Once information is put in the public domain, it cannot be made private again. At best you can resurrect those greying filters, in the hope that the secret is not shared too quickly, with too many more people. But the nature of gossip tells us that the information people will least want shared is the information that people will expend most effort on sharing.

Google can hide behind public officials, who have sanctioned what they are doing. Google getting endorsement from the UK’s Information Commissioner to take photos of our houses is like Bill Clinton defining the meaning of “sex” with his lawyers. Whatever rule they come up with will be unsatisfactory for a myriad of reasons, not least because most of us will have our own personal reasons to question whether the lines were drawn in the right place. You would not rely on a public servant to protect your daughter’s chastity, so why expect them to protect your privacy? Ten years on from the UK’s Data Protection Act 1998, which set up the Commissioner’s office and which stipulated that personal information should be held securely, the UK is a country where personal information has repeatedly been lost and stolen. Nobody can measure how much has ended up in the wrong hands, or the damage that has caused. What we can measure is how successful the words of a bunch of lawyers were at stopping it: not at all. We can also measure how successful the public servants, including the Information Commissioner, were at stopping it: not at all.

Maybe within ten years time, we will be reading the story of somebody who was raped or murdered and how information about the victim was garnered by the assailant using Google’s intrusive photographs. At that time, we will also hear a lot of humbug from the Information Commissioner about how this will show the need for the Commissioner to have new powers, about how it is a very serious sign that the Commissioner needs a lot more resources, and about how nobody could have predicted what happened. Taking the last point first, of course it is predictable; I am predicting it now. It is as predictable as the countless predictions that the 1998 law to protect personal data would do nothing to reduce carelessness with people’s personal information, not least by the same government that passes these laws and employs these public servants. Government appointees get chosen not because they do the things that need to be done, but because they sound like they are doing the right things. In 1998, the government appointees were telling the country how they would be securing our data. Ten years later, they were demanding more power and more resources to do the same job. They should have said they lacked the powers and resources to do the job before it became public knowledge after people’s privacy had been violated over and over. I see the decisions about Googlestapo’s street photography as the start of a similar chain of events. A public appointee has negotiated with Google what it takes to secure someone’s privacy. The implication is that privacy can be reduced to a universal algorithm; that privacy can be delivered by code to blur a face or a number plate, thus rendering them unrecognizable. Some cars and some people will be recognizable even if blurred. People will be recognized by their clothes, people will recognize be their stature, people will be recognized by the simple fact that they live in the areas where there photographs are taken. The same will even apply to some cars; I know what Starsky’s car in the 70’s cop show Starsky & Hutch looks like, though I have no idea about the number on the plate. It is a travesty that a public official, whose role is to protect privacy, can agree that blurring makes people unrecognizable, and hence ensures their privacy is protected. At best, it protects the privacy of most, but obviously will not be fool-proof. Contrast this lackadaisical approach to securing our privacy with the advice the government gives on how we should protect our information assets. They do not tell us to share our passwords only with people we trust, because most of them can be relied upon, or not to bother shredding documents because most of the time nobody is rifling through our bins, yet they allow Google to adopt privacy-protecting measures that will work most of the time, but not all of the time.

There is no point rifling through the reasons stated for why these compromises get nodded through, as the public words tell us nothing about the real reasons. Government is weak, and Google is strong. Government is worried about popularity, and Google is confident about theirs. Government is about making compromises to stay in power a little longer, and Google just needs to keep rolling in the money forever (whilst pretending it will never do so in an “evil” way). The only time the balance will change is when something goes horribly wrong and public sympathy shifts as a result, at which time the Information Commissioner will be demanding more to do the job he was supposedly doing before. No mention will be made about the culpability of his office in allowing our privacy to be violated. The real problem here is that part of the problem is posing as part of the solution. Relying on government to regulate our privacy is like relying on government to regulate our money. The will to impose rules will only be discovered after things go terribly wrong. Even then we should be pessimistic about the competence of the individuals tasked to impose those rules, who doubtless built their reputations by being a respected part of the flawed system. Asking some to rise through a career path and then, once they reach the top, to look down and fix what is wrong with the system is like asking someone to climb to the top floor and to build the stairs from the top down. Buildings are built from the bottom up. You need solid foundations to build a solid building, yet the government appointees will have reached the top precisely because they turned a blind eye to the inadequacies they saw as they climbed upward. Expecting the products of flawed systems to fix the flaws in systems is like asking a cowboy builder to build your house, or asking the council to spend more money on bins that are needed and less on safety signs that nobody will read. If governments cannot take care of your money, whether it is the money they spend or the money in the bank, what are the chances they will take care of your right to privacy?

So far the Googlestapo is telling the world I live on an open green field, with not a house nor a person for miles around. For the sake of my privacy, that is the safest place I could be, and at least it helps to keep the cyclists away.

Posted in privacy | No Comments »

Reasons to Recast

March 14th, 2009 by Eric

In films and television, people always get cast according to how they look. Short people are angry/pushy/talkative. Slim young women are feisty. People with kindly faces are kind. Old people of colour are wise. Attractive women are the reliable, trustworthy gals you would like to shag, or the double-crossing, duplicitous vixens you would like to shag. Take note of the clever way ‘creative’ people keep you on the edge of your seat in that last example: beautiful women are either very good or very bad, but not somewhere in between. Being an overly-avid watcher of Star Trek, I have observed how Hollywood can take this to its logical and ridiculous conclusion. In Star Trek, especially the later series, there are countless alien races who look much like people, except there is something stuck to their forehead or their ears or their nose. When a new alien race is introduced, you can pretty much tell how they will behave just from the way they look. If they look very human, with a few dabs of henna to represent tiger stripes running down the side of their neck, or only have altered ears, then that race will either be good, or the type that seems good but turns out to be devious and dangerous. Foreheads that look like armour plating and pointed teeth are sure signs of aggressive tendencies. Any make-up where you have no idea what the actor underneath looks like, and you can guarantee that race will be difficult, and before long somebody will be threatening to fire torpedoes if they do not get their way.

Real life, unlike television and the movies, has no casting filter to match a person’s qualities to their looks. Bad people may look kindly, and old people may be fools. Short people may be shy, and attractive women may be dull but harmless. Of course, we may be daft enough to allow how somebody looks to influence our judgment of people, so every time a redhead gets angry, it confirms our knowledge they are a temperamental lot, but every time a redhead turns the other cheek when provoked, we fail to notice. Thanks the halo effect, good-looking people will be assumed to be intelligent, even if they are not, and ugly people will be assumed to be stupid, even if they are brainier than Einstein.

Thinking of the conjunction of Star Trek and miscasting, I started wondering what television and movies would be like, if all casting logic was outlawed, or if actors were given jobs based on a lottery. Recasting every movie since the dawn of time would take longer than I have time to do here, so instead I will focus on a genre where characters tend to be heavily stylized: science fiction. Here, in no particular order, is my list of ideal recasts, and enjoyable miscasts, of major and minor science fiction characters from through the ages (plus a few other random characters to keep you on your toes). If you know your sci-fi, it may give you a few giggles. If not, then try recasting a few of your own favourite films and shows, and imagining what the results would be like.

Imagine a universe where…

Jerry Seinfeld is Doctor Who
Thom Yorke is Wolverine
Jackie Chan is Chewbacca
Judi Dench is Laura Roslin
Daniel Craig is Buck Rogers
Oprah Winfrey is Wonder Woman
Christian Bale is Bender Bending Rodríguez
John Travolta is HAL9000
Cameron Diaz is Darth Maul
Sidney Poitier is Fox Mulder
Stephen Fry is Scruffy the Janitor
Victoria Beckham is Lady Penelope
Tom Cruise is Parker, Lady Penelope’s chauffeur
Richard Pryor is Colonel Tigh
Madonna is Arachnia, Queen of the Spider People
Gary Coleman is Mini-Me
Chuck D is Riddick
Lindsay Lohan is Number Six
Bob Hoskins is Bilbo Baggins
Humphrey Bogart is Rorschach
George W. Bush is Zapp Brannigan
Patrick Stewart is Agent Smith
Bette Davis is Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Gary Oldman is Captain Nemo
Hong Kong Phooey is the Kwisatz Haderach
Gordon Brown is ‘Crash’ Gordon
Patrick McGoohan is Gaius Baltar
Milla Jovovich is Turanga Leela
David Bowie is David Brent
Arnold Schwarzenegger is Lemmy Caution
Brangelina is a teleporter accident
David Duchovny is Commander John Koenig
Paris Hilton is Jabba the Hutt
Gérard Depardieu is Jean-Luc Picard
Diana Rigg is Lady Jessica Atreides
George Lucas is Guido
Ricky Gervais is The Blob
Tommy Lee Jones is Dixie Flatline
Ricardo Montalban is Commander William Adama
Hugh Grant is Doctor Manhattan
Natalie Portman is Servalan
Steve Martin is Ming the Merciless
Eva Green is Tank Girl
Isaac Asimov is Hari Seldon
Queen Latifah is Lieutenant Commander Uhura
Harrison Ford is Arnold Rimmer
Peter Sellars is James T. Kirk
Britney Spears is Kaylee Frye
Leonard Nimoy is Dr. Horrible
Bono is Roy Batty
Barack Obama is Harry Tuttle
Kathy Bates is Lieutenant Saavik
Richard Branson is J.F. Sebastian
Gwyneth Paltrow is Captain Mal ‘Tightpants’ Reynolds
Bill Shatner is Klaatu
Halle Berry is Dr. Susan Calvin
Timothy Olyphant is Jango Fett
Ian McKellen is Kerr Avon
Eleanor Roosevelt is Ellen Ripley
Salma Hayek is Princess Leia Organa
Burt Reynolds is Han Solo
Roseanne Barr is Barbarella
Nathan Fillion is Arthur Dent
Beyoncé Knowles is Zefram Cochrane
Elizabeth Taylor is Pris
Chris Rock is The Master
Sharon Stone is THX 1138

and…

Bill Hicks is President of the United Federation of Planets

It might take a lot of CGI, but that would be a movie I would gladly pay to see!

Posted in celebrity, comedy, flotsam & jetsam | No Comments »

Whose Problem is it Anyway?

March 6th, 2009 by Eric

Hmmm. Work. Hmmm. Life would be very smooth if we did not have to do it. It would still be pretty smooth if work did not involve working with other people. This week, I found myself doing what I get paid to do at work, which is rewriting the same things over and over despite the best efforts of MS Word to corrupt my output as quickly as I can type. My fingers were screaming RSI, but their sacrifice had placed a nose ahead of Bill Gates word processor from Hell. Then, my race with the Microsoft gremlins was rudely interrupted by the bickering of two middle-aged managers standing right behind me. They were engaged in a prolonged and very loud debate about how much work they had to do, who was at fault for this, that and the other, who was responsible for this, that and the other, and when they were both intending to do whatever. I was tempted to turn around and suggest that if they had used their time to just do this, that, the other, and maybe also whatever, they would have finished them all long before they were likely to reach the end of their interminable debate. What really struck me, though, is what, in the heat of the battle, one of the protagonists said. Like knights of old, the modern office combatant must know the tools and tricks of his warfare. The bolder, but slightly less bald assailant verbally rushed his opponent, only to bamboozle him with a classic business side-step: the NMP. Not only did he execute the technique flawlessly, he called it by its proper name. “Not My Problem”, he bellowed about this, or that, or possibly about whatever.

NMP, as phrases go, is a metaphorical sign at a fork in the road. Equivalent signs would read “I see where you’re going with this, but I’m not going with you!” or possibly even “it’s my way or the highway, sonny Jim!” When somebody signals an NMP, you either agree to let him go down his preferred path (the path of escape), or you end up in a row. NMP is the management version of a 12 year old refusing to eat her brussels sprouts. “Eat your sprouts!” “The sprouts are NOT MY PROBLEM!” Then imagine the 12 year old pointing out that sprout eating was not an implied term in the contract with their mother, had been left out of the job spec, was not part of the SLA, had not been acceded to even informally, was not discussed in the previous steering group meeting, and, in conclusion, could not be enforced because the 12 year old had never asked to be born in the first place. What delicious irony that these two bickering managers were not long returned from day two of an all-company, all-hands, team-building, morale-building, mission-confirming, vision-stating, and generally singing-from-the-same-song-sheet jamboree.

The NMP, unlike so many other work dodges, at least has the merit of being clear, if a little confrontational. Most people, if you ask them to do something, say they will do it and then do not do it. You ask again, and they say they will do it but then do not do it. You ask again, and they say they will do it and then do not do it. Eventually, when you get to the twentieth time of asking, you will realize you have just been wasting your time and just do not bother asking again. That is how most things do not get done. HWP, or the hollow work promise, is the preferred technique for slopey-shouldered easy-lifers. HWP allows everyone to feel good about themselves whilst doing sod all of any worth. HWP is also a brilliant source of job creation. Half of the jobs in most companies go to people whose job is to elicit HWPs from other people. We all need to do this-and-that, bellows the CEO, or the board, or the executive team, or any other group of people that suddenly realizes they may be out of a job, lose their generous pension scheme, or better still end up in prison unless the company really does this-and-that (examples: train companies not killing customers by keeping their trains on the tracks, banks not defrauding their investors by actually investing the money they are given and not just using it pay off on the last round of promises). But how do you get everybody to do this-and-that, especially when they are (pretending to be) busy doing the specific things you recruited them to do, which made no mention of this-and-that? The universal answer is to employ somebody else, and to put number one on their specific list of things to do the job of chasing you to do things you should be doing. Sometimes this is known as compliance. Compliance is, after all, another word for doing what you are told to do, so it makes sense to employ someone to tell you to do it. The idea is to employ somebody to chase would-be complier and make them comply. Or rather, you get somebody to chase them and make them promise they will comply, and hence obtain a long series of HWPs from everybody in the business. At least then, when the CEO is dragged in front the SEC, or the Environmental Police or the Health & Safety Fascist Board of Repression, they can show their HWP slips and explain it was not really their fault that the staff, who were trained and warned, avoided the company’s diligent compliance procedures by not doing this-and-that during those spare minutes in the working day between 4.27am and 4.29am.

We all get steadily trained to behave the ‘right’ way at work. For example, being caught lying is bad, but always telling the truth will get you the sack even more quickly. If somebody comes at you and asks you to take health and safety seriously, then you should never, under any circumstances, NMP them. H&S is your problem by definition. HWP them instead. After all, they want to be HWP’d. If people did not HWP, and just did what they were told, then there would be no health or safety risks. That in turn would mean no need for a person to chase HWP’s about health and safety, and then they would be out of a job. I pick on H&S because it is so easy to pick on them, and because the people who work in that field so thoroughly deserve to be bullied in return for the relentless bullying they give people at work:

Do not drive tired!
Leave home five minutes earlier so you do not have to rush!
Leave work thirty minutes later so you make time for the mandatory health and safety online training module!
Keep a good work-life balance for the sake of your well being!
Kill the health and safety person for the greater good of your colleagues!
Wear a plastic sock in the showers at the gym so you do not get a verruca!

I only made up two of those Stalin-esque H&S exhortations, and the verruca-sock combo was not one of them.

For a long time, I was like some wild crazy bucking bronco at work, refusing to wear the saddle, reigns and noose that management had picked out for me. I completely misunderstood the purpose of my job spec, and of the NMP, with the consequence that I NMP’d all and sundry, not just the goon squad from H&S. Worse still, I did what it said in the job spec, including the bits that nobody expected you to do. Yes, I really was that foolish. The inverted pyramid of management, where there must be no fewer than twenty people managing every act performed by every single actual worker, was a constant source of confusion and bafflement. In my naivety, I was fond of saying how I did not like to work for more than one boss at a time! I must have been mad. Everybody has more than one boss, except perhaps God and people like Heather Mills-McCartney-as-was who ‘work’ for charity by sometimes giving small bits of their hard-earned divorce settlements. As I grew older, I realized everybody was my boss. The girlfriend, the customer, the government, the stakeholders, the landlord, the collective will of the Chinese nation, polite society, long-term benefits scroungers and adolescents who drink too much cider on a Friday night and seek to resolve their emotional issues with a spot of casual violence – all have a reasonable claim to be my boss. If I had a dog, it too would be my boss, expressed in demands for walks, tins of rancid meat and squeaky toys. The only person who is not my boss is me. But until I realized that, I was making life very difficult for myself, especially at work, where my bosses included my line manager, his line manager, her line manager, the CFO, the CEO, the Health & Safety guy, the project manager, the deputy project manager, the contractor filling-in for the deputy project manager whilst she is on maternity leave, the consultant telling the temp how to do her job and anybody else who fancied they had something to do which might possibly be better done if it somehow involved me. Mistakenly, I would NMP large swathes of these people. It was my way of telling people I would not do what they wanted me to do. Cue long arguments of the type that between the two middle-aged managers who stood behind me.

Being a little slow-witted, it took me a long time to realize that, if I am a shirker, or just too busy, then NMP tends to backfire. Persistent people, with nothing better to do, will just bug you an awful lot in the hope they can nag you into conceding their authority to make you do whatever it is they want doing. HWP is far superior for ridding you of these people, as chances are they will be horribly disorganized and simply forget to chase you, plus an HWP will get rid of them in an instant. Boring people into submission with HWP is far more successful than goading their authority with NMP. However, HWP is not at all appropriate when dealing with someone who you consider to be your boss. Your boss is very likely to remember what you said you were going to do, and if you consistently fail to do what you promise, you will probably do your career more harm than if you simply resorted to flicking V’s at them every time they make eye contact. In contrast, NMPs are ideal when handling people who just think they are your boss. They tell you to do something, you say no, they insist, you NMP. Then they have to go get authority from somebody who really is your boss. If your boss is a wimp, and gives in, you may need to give in too, but at least you will have caused them a lot of trouble in the meantime, and proven the point they needed to go to your boss before they could get their way, which means they could not have been your boss after all.

Despite the previous paragraph, if your boss is a real big wimp, and agrees to everything to keep everyone happy, you must always HWP them, and never NMP them. If you NMP them, they will just hover over your desk until you promise to do whatever nonsense it is that they promised their boss they would do, but which they cannot begin to do because they have no idea how to do it. It makes no difference if you do not know how to do it either, because the main thing is that the boss wants to blame you for not doing it, hence getting them off the hook. So never ever NMP a boss like this. Much better that you HWP them. If you HWP them, they instantly will leave you alone, and will search out some other poor victim to do some other pointless work that does not need doing. Of course, the whole point with HWP is that you do not do it, which will eventually cause a little embarrassment for the boss, who could blame you but would still be stuck needing to do something they cannot do themselves. It is much more likely that they will be afraid of being found out as the useless nincompoop they are. When such a boss realizes you HWP’d them, they will typically attempt to cover up the whole forrago of their own incompetence and their team’s lack of respect by pestering someone more docile than you to do the dreaded task instead. If, on the other hand, you ever sort any problems for such a boss, he or she is bound to back to you with each and every other problem they are too stupid to solve for themselves. This is the fast track for guaranteeing you do all the work of your boss, barring one vital task they will inevitably keep for themselves: communication. Communication is, of course, a synonym for taking the credit. Much better that you HWP them and give them a few sleepless nights about how they will communicate their way out of that. One good solid HWP, if seen through to the bitter end, with consistent promised you will do whatever it is that you have not the slightest intention of doing, will secure your freedom for life, or at least until the next round of redundancies (and with any luck your boss will be made redundant before you do). But you have to stay solid with an HWP. Do not backslide and make a token effort. A token effort might make it seem like you genuinely intended to do it, and if it looks like you did a job badly, that might enable your boss to make it seem like you are the incompetent one. Never be caught doing a job badly. Not doing a job at all is far superior than doing a job badly, as you can always rely upon plausible deniability, like when US Presidents sell arms to terrorists then decide that is a bad idea then decide they forgot what they decided to do then decide they forgot what the question was, would you please not repeat it I am a busy man and have so many things to do like posing for this photo shoot, saluting this flag and kissing this baby here. One good solid HWP guarantees that a weak boss will just pick on somebody else from then on. With a bit of luck, the team will discover some solidarity, and everybody will successfully embargo the silly problems the boss should not have taken on, by applying a block HWP every time the boss attempts to sucker them. Over time, the boss will be trained to do one of two things. Either the boss will learn to solve the problems they agreed to solve, or the boss will learning not to agree to take insoluble problems on in the first place. Or they may just learn to NMP their own boss and be done with it. Whatever route your boss takes, once trained, they will be an inspiration for the team and help it get back to what it really should be doing, absolutely nothing else, and possibly not even that. And the best part is you will have more time to fill out those H&S forms.

NMP should, under no circumstances, be confused with the similar-sounding SEP. Like so many great ideas in my head, SEP was not first discovered in my head, but originated in the head of Douglas Adams, of Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy fame. In the universe of HHGTTG it was impossible to make something invisible. But stick a Somebody Else’s Problem field around it, and everybody would just pretend they could not see it. SEP is what you get when something really needs to be done, and nobody wants to do it and nobody in particular is expected to do it. Of course, you should never actually say a problem is SEP. SEP’s are implied. Better still, they are implied by everybody else - you did not hear or were out of the room and have no idea what everybody else is not talking about. If confronted about an SEP, you must not answer any questions about whether it is SEP, as this just makes you look shifty. Instead, you must explain it is NMP, without commenting on whether it is SEP. This approach works because, in the formal logic of work, that NMP is true does not imply that SEP is also true. It is perfectly possible for a problem to be nobody’s problem, in which case NMP is true, but SEP is false. The relationship is not symmetrical, as SEP does imply NMP. This is because when a problem is somebody else’s problem, you can be pretty sure there will be nobody who agrees that it is their problem. However, you should never admit a problem is SEP, as people will just assume you are saying that because it is really your problem and that you are just trying to pass the buck.

If somebody accidentally asks you about a problem which is SEP, just look around the room, talk about something else, and avoid the topic. Whoever is asking will soon take the hint and realize they were talking about SEP, or else they risk making it their own problem. If they do not take the hint, just start acting like Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver:

You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? Then who the hell else are you talking to… You talking to me? Well I’m the only one here. Who the fu*k do you think you’re talking to?

Then you should laugh and ask them if they liked Taxi Driver. Either they have seen the movie, will laugh and forget all about the SEP, or else they will not have seen the movie, will think you are a bit odd, and will forget all about the SEP. It does not matter if they think you are odd, because they never saw Taxi Driver and hence you do not care what they think. If you are under real pressure, and your Robert De Niro impersonation stinks, you might want to resort to the last-ditch tactic of saying the SEP is NAP (Not Anyone’s Problem). This implies a gap in the org chart and a need to recruit somebody new to own the SEP. However, never say this to someone who actually has the authority to recruit somebody new. Somebody with that level of authority will immediately pin the job on you and pat themselves on the back for keeping headcount down. When dealing with somebody who could recruit to solve a NAP, insinuate the problem is NMP for both you and them. If they do not get the hint, the listener’s only option is to conclude that finding out whose problem it is has effectively become their problem. Anybody who takes on the problem of finding out whose problem the problem is, is effectively setting themselves up for a fall, as they make themselves the default choice for taking ownership of the problem when it is discovered that the problem is currently NAP. When they realize this, they will quickly conclude that the problem must be SEP and that there is hence no need to establish precisely whose problem it is. Or they will recruit somebody else to do it and at least guarantee it was not their problem. It was probably that kind of thought process that inspired someone to create the job you currently do.

SEP is a powerful technique, especially when applied to problems that seem intractable and thankless. Never ever get stuck with a problem that everybody else thinks is SEP. Even if you do solve it, they will not thank you for it. Because they will all be ashamed that they pretended it was SEP, they will also pretend it was never a problem in the first place, so you still will find you get no thanks for solving it. Problems which are easy to solve and where the solution will earn a lot of credit, simply cannot be SEP’d. Everybody wants to own these problems. Make sure you do too. Speak often, and at length about the problem. Be upbeat about finding a solution. That way, when the problem is solved, some people may wrongly think you were part of the solution. If you want to enhance your credentials as owner of the problem, be sure to deride everyone else who claims to be owner, making a point of saying how they all NMP’d the problem, even if that is a blatant lie. In such cases, although people will know you are lying through your teeth, a lot of them will assume you are bitter because you did not get the credit you deserve, and will not stop and think long enough to realize you do not actually deserve any credit to begin with. Being thought of as bitter is not great, but it is a lot better than being thought of as irrelevant because somebody else is solving all the problems.

In the last resort, remember that all problems can be solved by a full-scale FTS. FTS is not a phrase invented by Douglas Adams, being rather too fruity for inclusion in a BBC Radio 4 pre-watershed comedy. FTS is an acronym invented by my friend James, who speaks several languages and has a very nice life and a gorgeous wife in San Francisco, so he must know what he is talking about. FTS is an acronym of three four-letter words, two of which are four-letter words. The other four-letter word is “that”. If somebody comes at you with a really bad problem, which simply cannot be solved, and will overwhelm you and knock all your problem management into the middle of next week, just tell them to Fu*k That Sh*t. It is your last line of defence. Really bad problems cannot be SEP’d or even NMP’d and certainly won’t be HWP’d away, as everyone will assume you have no clue to solve them (because you really do have no clue how to solve them) and will constantly be asking you about progress and insinuating you are a dunderhead for not making any progress with such an obviously important and pressing problem.

To be pedantic, it is not necessary to swear in order to tell people them you are FTS’ing the problem they brought to you. If you are worried about offending them (perhaps the problem is about rude language in the work place) then just look them straight in the eye, and say, in a commanding voice, “that’s a full-scale FTS”. Either they will know what FTS means, or they will not know. If they know, they will instantly leave you alone. If they do not know, chances are they will be slightly uncomfortable at the fact they do not know, and will hence avoid wanting to seem stupid by asking what it means. So they too will instantly leave you alone, afraid that you will continue to talk in acronyms they do not understand and hence confirm their ignorance and incompetence for their job. In the unlikely event they do ask what FTS stands for, just say “it’s not my problem to tell you what FTS stands for, but as you don’t know I don’t mind telling you that it means Fu*k That Sh*t. And you can take it from me, that’s a fact.” They will probably be so perplexed and awed at the same time that they will leave without saying another word. Many colleagues, upon hearing this instruction, will never risk talking to you again, which can only be a bonus in most jobs. And if the the full-scale FTS speech does not work, you must be at the wrong company. That nonsense works everywhere else in the world, so wherever you are now, they must be working you too hard and you can earn more and do less somewhere else, even when times are hard. Take it from me – you can start your new career by applying for a job at the place where I am working now. Just write a covering letter which begins “you should recruit me because I believe that the company’s problems are my problem.” Anyone reading that letter is going to love you and want to give you the job of the boldly baldy NMP man who stood behind me. After all, it means they will have somebody new to give all their problems to.

Posted in comedy | No Comments »