Following the Science

 At the start of the pandemic the UK government made a lot of the claim that it was following the science in determining its course of action.  

The general feeling was that this was a Good Thing. After all, science had been quick off the mark in identifying the virus and cracking its genetic code so wasn’t it generally a good idea to hand the tiller over to the scientists and trust them to steer us through the pandemic? 

It is only on reflection that it becomes clear just how bad an idea this following the science is. In fact it isn’t even an idea - more a complete abdication of responsibility dressed up in a catch phrase.

Science, for all its potency, does not have a destination. How can we follow the science when the science has no idea where it is going? We might as well say we are following the law. 

Which is not to say that there is no role for science and engineering in planning for a post-pandemic world. While government is forced to respond to short-term imperatives, the resulting disruption to economic activity presents an opportunity to initiate all sorts of ambitious longer term goals: the green economy, universal basic income, localisation, lifewide education, integrated health and social care. 

Restructuring on this scale would call for significant levels of scientific and engineering input but the underlying vision is something that must be owned and initiated by a wide range of social institutions,  

As it is, the government’s only discernible long-term goal is the restoration of the familiar, pre-pandemic, service-based economy with the role of science confined to little more than regulating the pace at which we are allowed to return to our old, unsustainable ways. 

Crowds and Power

Crowds and Power by Elias Canetti is a book I have owned for longer than I can remember. I have never read it but, for some reason, it has always fascinated me. Maybe I will read it one day but, in any case, that is not what this piece is about. 

Neither is it about the Gamestop affair - the story of how a shoal of marauding, individual investors set out to beat and humiliate a bunch of major hedge funds. 

No, this post is about The Good Law Project and its attempt to call the government to account over its award of highly lucrative Covid-19-related contracts to private companies.  

There are all sort of concerns about the way in which these contracts were let. Procurement processes were either cursory or entirely absent; many of the companies concerned had links to Tory donors or friends of government ministers; many had little or no relevant expertise in the products or services they were contracted to provide. 

The Good Law Project, along with a cross-party group of opposition MPs, is asking the High Court to make a declaration that the government failed to comply with its legal obligations in declining to publish details of these contracts. That’s all. Right now, we are simply asking for openness and transparency. 

It is easy to think of the law as some sort of machine that kicks into action in response to unlawful acts. Nothing could be further from the truth however. The law only works when someone is prepared to bring a case before the courts - and this is an option that is becoming increasingly difficult due to the prohibitive costs involved. 

In the present case, the government has assembled a huge legal team, to defend what it has already admitted to be persistent and unlawful conduct. It is as if it is trying to scare off any form of scrutiny. And of course, when seeking how to fund this intimidatory behaviour they have only to look to the beneficiaries of their largesse. 

So maybe this is where those ‘crowds’ come in. The Good law Project is a not-for-profit organisation that is using the law in the service of truth and the common good. It is paid for entirely by individual contributions and through crowd-funding. 

I would ask everyone to consider making a contribution.

As history repeatedly reminds us: if we work together we can make a difference. 

All kinds of electric garlands

I have recently taken to leafing through the documentation accompanying the recent UK/EU trade deal. An odd choice of bedtime reading you might think, and to be honest, I felt the same way at first but that was before I came across the Harmonised Commodity Description and Coding System (or Harmonised System for short).  

On the face of it this is an inventory of every conceivable tradable commodity along with its corresponding numeric code. All that businesses are required to do when preparing goods for shipment is to look up the correct HS product code and enter it on the customs paperwork. 

Simple, you might think, but you’d be wrong, for a glance at the Harmonised System reveals it to be a very strange creation indeed. What follows is a sample set of categories:

Bells, gongs or the like
Wigs, false beards, eyebrows and eyelashes
Narwhal and wild boar tusks
Toys representing non-humans dressed as Father Christmas
Articles of Gut (other than Silkworm Gut), of Goldbeater's Skin, of Bladders or of Tendons
Braces, belts, bandoliers and wrist straps, but excluding watch straps
Father Christmases with or without a sledge 
Puzzles of all kinds.
Glass eyes other than prosthetic articles
Swordsticks, loaded walking sticks or the like
Swim rings with animal feature appendages
Frogmen’s and other goggles
Gimped horsehair yarn.
Imitation yule logs
Brooms brushes, mops and feather dusters.
Electric garlands of all kinds.

What kind of world is this? A world devoid of crash helmets, corkscrews and trombones but in which, nonetheless, there is a healthy international trade in false beards, frogmen’s goggles and imitation yule logs.

And what is it about toys representing non-humans that makes it necessary to define a special subcategory to distinguish those dressed as Father Christmas (with or without sledge)?

Slowly and with mounting horror I begin to understand the hell into which British manufacturers have been plunged. Picture, if you will, the following: 

In a West Midlands engineering company a call is put through to Dave Roberts, the sales manager: 

Roberts: Hello, sales. How can I help? 

Caller: Ah, good morning. This is Herman Meyer from the Electric Vehicle Research Institute in Stuttgart. I am told you manufacture a high-torque stepper motor?   

Roberts: Yes we do - it’s one of our best products. 

Caller: This is wonderful. If I place an order for 50, how soon can you deliver them?  

Roberts: Ah well, I’m afraid that might be difficult. We have them but we can’t find the right code to put on the customs form. 

Caller: Oh dear. Do you know how long it will take to resolve the problem?

Roberts: Sorry … but no, I can’t be sure. 

Caller: What a pity, but I don’t think this is going to work. Goodbye

Roberts: Wait, wait! Is there anything else I can interest you in? We have great line in  swordsticks and all kinds of electric garlands … 

Caller: <click>

Roberts: Damn, damn! 

Roberts: (calling over his shoulder to the warehouse manager) 
Jim! Those steppers - stick them on eBay. Let’s get what we can for them.