Good and bad broadcasting

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My good friend Rob drew my attention to this year's Richard Dimbleby Lecture, which was given on Tuesday by Michael Morpurgo, the prolific children's author. It's entitled 'Set our Children free'. It touches on a number of issues which are dear to my heart, as readers of this blog will be aware. Sadly I can't find a script on line, and there are only two days left to hear it on iPlayer. But it's well worth the listen. I found myself cheered as I listened to such a creative man talking with great wisdom. 35th Dimbleby Lecture: 'Set our Children free'. Morpurgo talks, among other things, about asylum seekers, the Middle East, education, libraries - and even about educational farms. It's a good deal better broadcasting than 95% of the usual fare.    

Talking of which another friend, Sally Hitchiner, put this rather shocking fact up on Facebook yesterday: 'checked out the Newsround website to send links to the children leading prayers in our All Age service tomorrow and was surprised to find it's REALLY mindless... Lady Gaga, the Brits, Bieber Fever and at the bottom in "other news" (with "Polabear visits dentist") a small feature on the small trouble in Bahrain - 25% of which is about the possibility of it cancelling the grand prix!'     


Michael Morpurgo didn't comment on this, but he did in passing refer to the BBC's Mission, which is: "To enrich people's lives with programmes and services that inform, educate and entertain". As their flagship news programme for children, the sample of Newsround that Sally found seems to me simply to fail a generation. As she went on to comment: 'I remember it being great when I was a child - they sometimes had an element of "Something really bad happened today in the Middle East but our soldiers are trying their best to make sure everyone is ok" but at least they covered the issues that mattered... They're doing children a real disservice in suggesting that all they're interested in is celebrities and lollipop ladies!' (And I need to say, Sally's not some nostalgic middle-aged fuddy-duddy. She's young, and wonderfully hip.)

On a lighter note, I enjoyed this exchange by children of friends of ours:
Daughter : "You know when they are old and past it...."
Son : "Yes...."
Daughter : "Well, if I look after mum, you could look after dad."
Son : "That's not fair! How come you get the one that does the cleaning, the cooking and the shopping, while I get the useless one!"
You and me also, old pal!     

I've just found a summary of Michael Morpurgo's lecture here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/pressoffice/pressreleases/stories/2011/02_february/15/dimbleby.shtml

Words crack

Here’s a poem called “The Prayer”, by Carol Ann Duffy –

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer

Utters itself. So, a woman will lift

Her head from the sieve of her hands and stare

At the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.                 

     Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth

     Enters our hearts, that small familiar pain ;

     Then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth

     In the distant Latin chanting of a train.

          Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales

          Console the lodger looking out across

          A Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls

          A child’s name as though they named their loss.

                 Darkness outside. Inside, the radio’s prayer –

                 Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

I'm grateful to my friend, Martin Cavender, for pointing this out to me. As you may know, sometimes what Carol Ann Duffy calls the radio's prayer is my companion in the hours of darkness. 


I love that truth: "Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer utters itself." 
So thank you, Poet Laureate. (I hope you don't mind my quoting you.)

The Dilnot Commission

Yesterday I was contacted by the Guardian asking if I would like to do a piece for their Comment is free column. Sadly as you'll know I was out having a romantic lunch with my Valentine - not sad, I hasten to add, because of enjoying Jane's company, but merely because by the time I'd returned to my emails they'd found another blogger to write it instead! Fair enough: speed is all in the world of daily newspapers.

They'd wanted a piece following on from a crie de coeur piece headlined

'Life not worth living' for disabled people facing benefit cuts

Campaigners say government plans to end automatic right to state support for independent living is causing many to despair . Read full article                                                                                        

I was surprised on reading the article to discover that it was about the government's Commission on Funding for Care and Support, the Dilnot Commission for short, after its chairman, Andrew Dilnot, the former head of the IFS (Institute for Fiscal Studies), and that the consultation period was ending this week. Oh well, I thought, because by now my brain was running on overdrive, I can at least make a submission to the commission. So I was even more surprised on going to the Commission's website to discover, at the end of 22 pages, that in fact the deadline for submissions was midnight on 31st January. "Darnit!" I thought. "I don't remember that ever being publicised." So I googled it, and I couldn't find a mention of the deadline, nor even an invitation for submissions, in the news media. Clearly the disability and aged groups had been contacted. But were they really interested in what individuals thought? Not everyone is represented by a group. And ultimately, one hopes, it's about the care and support of individuals.

It so happens that we know Andrew Dilnot. In fact one of our children had digs at the top of their house once. I can't think of anyone in whom I'd have more faith to head up that commission - brilliant, humane and understanding of needs. I gave a cheer when I heard he'd been appointed chairman. But his task is immense. Originally the government gave them a fourfold remit: sustainability, fairness, choice and affordability. The Commission negotiated a fifth: ease of use. If you've been following Michael Sandel's excellent series on Justice on BBC4, you'll recognise that these are all utilitarian considerations. Even "fairness" is defined as "for individuals, families, carers, and the wider society". In other words there's a calculus to be made between the stakeholders' interest and "the wider society", reinforced in two other criteria, sustainability and affordability. Which of course are very necessary considerations for the "state" to make. But there's a question to be asked first - which is, where do we place our priority in deciding what we can afford? Ultimately where's our value-base? What do we hold as non-negotiably good in our society? That is what should determine our spending/taxation priorities.

That does mean asking some very hard questions. Of course it does. For example, is the free market economy more important than the compassionate society? Is subsidising high art a priority? Free museum entry? Financing high profile sports events... Tax breaks for billionaires, hedge-fund managers... Protected pensions for MPs...? What does fairness mean? Does it mean everyone being treated the same by the state? No winter-fuel allowances and free bus passes for the elderly? No child-benefit for those feckless enough to have babies? No subsidised bars for MPs? No allowances for the disabled?

The oldest law code I'm familiar with sets the highest priority on protecting the vulnerable: "Cursed be anyone who perverts the justice due to the sojourner (alien), the fatherless, and the widow" (Deuteronomy from the Bible). "You judge a country, and its institutions, by the way it deals with the most vulnerable - hard to argue with that," said John Humphrys on the Today programme this morning. He was introducing a discussion about the report of the Health Service Ombudsman on bad examples of care for the elderly in the NHS. Later, Professor Raymond Tallis, once of Manchester University, warned against the business model that had permeated the caring professions, so that "people only value the things that can be counted". He went on to make this point, "There's a problem more broadly in society. What do we value in society? We value glamour. What is the least glamorous thing to do, but what is the most deeply important thing to do? It is actually hands-on care. I think that society at large devalues hands-on care, and I think that is another implicit pressure." I suspect I disagree with the professor on some things, but here I reckon he's on the mark.

"The most deeply important thing to do" ... is actually hands-on care. That's the opposite of letting the vulnerable sink or swim, while the rest of us in SS Great Britain head for secure financial ground, eventually. It's not hauling up the lifeboats and saving the life-rafts in case we might need them later. Neither is it thanking God that we have our own little (or considerable) life-rafts set aside should the worst ever happen to us. "You judge a country... by the way it deals with the most vulnerable." Let's not argue with that. And, Andrew, should you happen to be reading this, could you just make that the starting place for your policy-making?

St Valentine's Day

Valentinus, a Roman, according to one story, was executed on 14th February, 269 AD, for refusing to give up his Christian faith. He left a farewell note, the story relates, for the jailer's daughter, who had become his friend, signed "from your Valentine". That seems to me highly improbable and hardly a reason for making him a saint 200 years later. In fact he was honoured as one of those "... whose names are justly reverenced among men, but whose acts are known only to God." 


Anyway, poor man, he's now become the pretext for a celebration of human love which, of course, has been well and truly cashed in on (losing the "Saint" bit on the way). I have to admit I'm not immune from it. A couple of weeks ago I bought a tasteful card which told Jane just what I thought of her - and then to celebrate for lunch we drove out through the spring sunshine to Aston Pottery, and chomped through our massive baps gazing into each other's... opposite each other!


Listening to Desert Island Discs on Friday, I heard Howard Jacobson, winner of the 2010 Booker Mann prize, talking about why he liked being married (he's been married three times). I loved this part of his answer: “I think I need to be looked at with love to be certain I’m there. Maybe I need to see myself in the beloved’s eyes, to see a nicer version of myself than is either actually the case, or than I fear might be the case.” 
Kirsty Young “So it’s that idea that if there’s someone that you regard as a good person regarding you well then you can’t be all bad.”
“Absolutely that; it’s as if I can’t trust my own version of myself.”


It helps to know that God looks at us like that too - all the time.

I go on a sit-in!

"The very existence of libraries affords the best evidence that we may yet have hope for the future of man" 
— T.S. Eliot
"My education was the library. I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out"
- Dylan Thomas
"I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library" - Jorge Luis Borges 
"A library is a token of, nay, a trophy of grace" - Martin Luther 
I imagine our local county councillors, Mr Keith Mitchell, leader of the council and responsible for, inter al, community leadership, and Ms Judy Heathcoat, responsible for, inter al, libraries, adult education and social inclusion would say to these great men, "Yer wha'?" More specifically, perhaps they'd say: 
"Mr Eliot, I don't get your drift any more than I understand your poetry - what I've read of it."
"Pipe down, Mr Thomas; in our new world you'd be in danger of a Criminal Behaviour Order (new name for Asbo) the way you carried on."
"Senor Borges, there's no such thing as Paradise, but even if there were, we wouldn't have books, just Sky TV."
"Herr Luther, we do not live in a time of grace!"


I say this because sadly they've announced that our local library is up for the chop, and one suspects that no amount of rational argument or local pressure will change their minds. It is of course solely an economy measure. But as Dame Elisabeth Hoodless rather awkwardly pointed out - and she's not exactly a young radical, aged 69, and retiring as Head of Community Service Volunteers after 36 years - it is at odds with the PM's dream of the Big Society. "Once you close a library there is nowhere for a volunteer to help.... Few people want to be responsible for the library. Most people want to feel there's an expert on the premises. They are quite happy to issue and re-shelve the books, but taking the final responsibility is a bit more than most people want to do."

So I buzzed myself off the the Read-In on Saturday morning at Grove Library and signed to petition. Its closure does seem an odd proposal at a time of impending local development. Mr Mitchell, a hale and hearty fellow, tells us we can just pop on the bus to Wantage and use the library there. It will cost you nothing after 9 am, he tells us, if you're over 60. But what about if you're a mum or dad with young kids? What if you're unemployed as well? And what about if you're disabled or in a wheelchair, Councillor? Just "take the bus"?

When we moved here, one of our first outings was to the Library. Being Grove, getting there was straightforward and on the flat. The library itself was very disabled friendly. Here was one expedition I could easily make on my own - a little bit of independent living. While there on Saturday, I was reminded of the benefits for Disabled Borrowers, such as borrowing books, most dvds, audio books, music cds and language courses free of charge. Reserving books etc is cheaper; and you don't get fined if you overrun. A great facility for the disabled! I don't know how many disabled live in Grove. I read somewhere that over one in ten of the working population are disabled - and obviously the proportion among the elderly will be higher. The 2001 census gave Grove's population as 7845. 

There are plans to build 2,500 new homes here. The library's not huge, as you can see, but without doubt it's both an amenity for the present and an investment for the future. Closure would be both myopic and philistine. Once it was closed and bulldozed to the ground, like the building next door, would a new one ever be opened for Grove - no longer 'village', but a town-size? What do you reckon?

For three things and four...

This is not a grumble, you understand. Just some observations!

Why do broadcasters (eg. on BBC Radio 5 Live) say, "See you same time tomorrow", or "in 14 minutes", in the case of a recent trailer? No, you won't, Mr Campbell, Mr Livesey. That's just stupid. You won't see us. We might hear you. You could say, "I'll be back...," or, if you insist in being more chatty, "Till tomorrow, same time." We need an equivalent of the German "Auf wiederhören".

Why do some radio forecasters emphasise odd unimportant words? "Winds gusting TO forty miles an hour in the South AND West..."

And why do so many journalists persist in demonstrating their paucity of vocabulary by using the word "iconic" - even after I mentioned it before on this blog? I was once told that people used bad language because they were too lazy to find a more vivid or accurate word. I'm inclined to think that "iconic" is the new swear word. "That's an iconic Torres goal!"

I suppose I'd better mention the Top Gear Mexican fiasco. Not that I watched it. I must say I have to agree with Steve Coogan's verdict on the lads' uncouth racial insults. 'There is a strong ethical dimension to the best comedy. Not only does it avoid reinforcing prejudices, it actively challenges them. Put simply, in comedy, as in life, we ought to think before we speak. This wasn't one of those occasions. In fact, the comments were about as funny as a cold sweat followed by shooting pains down the left arm. In fact, if I can borrow from the Wildean wit of Richard Hammond, the comic approach was "lazy", "feckless" and "flatulent".' Steve Coogan on Top Gear

Talking of cars, which Top Gear is supposed to be about, I see I could get some shares in our local Formula 1 team, Williams F1, on 2nd March. I'm not sure how good a short-term investment it would be, but at some point it must come good, surely...?

Weekend doings

What's the link?

Here we are again, out the other side of 'the sermon'. My audience nearly had to do without any visual aids, as another disaster befell my poor old laptop in the form of a sprinkling of elderflower cordial, resulting in the blanking of my screen before I'd put the powerpoint on my memory stick. However with a torch shining on the screen the transfer was eventually achieved. Phew! People seemed encouraged at the end. I talked about the deep link between Sunday worship and weekday life.

Before I rush on, however, I must go back to Saturday afternoon when we had the first MNDA meeting of the New Year at the Pear Tree Holiday Inn. What a good time! Sat next to my friendly 'herb farmer', David. First off we had a debrief on last year's International Symposium on MND/ALS (in Orlando) from the amazing Rachel Marsden, our local MND nurse coordinator, and heard about things like supra-glottal swallowing, compassion fatigue in carers and state-of-the-art green (environmentally) houses for independent living. After the break, his friend Dr Martin Turner gave us a presentation about Patrick Joyce, the incomparable optimist, who's an artist with MND. His aim is to paint 100 portraits of people who inspire him before he dies. Lovely young father, with an impish sense of humour and a gutsy determination. We were told that he's presenting an exhibition of his paintings in Oxford's beautiful Natural Science Museum in April. Made me feel a bit inadequate, if I'm honest.

http://www.mndoxfordshire.org/

The best thing about the meetings, as I've said before, is meeting folk. This time it was a new family, of whom their mum, Lorraine, was diagnosed with MND last year. Her son, Matt, and four friends are running the Reading Half Marathon in aid of MND care and research on 20th March. Here's the team. They can be sponsored on http://www.justgiving.com/TeamDiddy. 


Today's main decision was whether to replace my faithful friend, the laptop. Well, actually I made the decision last night and had second thoughts today. But now, "Alea iacta est," as Julius Caesar said, as he crossed the Rubicon. The die is cast. Norman tells me I've overused it - and he's probably right. I reckon a few more books are called for to merit the investment. So less waffle and more application.

I suppose that means less sport-watching. What a good thing we don't have Sky! Though Murray being walloped by Djokovic was on the BBC - I was spared that by my preaching engagement - phew! Big problem - the rugger starts again on Friday. Well, I suppose I am allowed weekends, aren't I?                      
Oh, I almost forgot, by way of light relief, a visit to my gentle dentist this morning, who painlessly patched up my carious teeth. A special needs dentist, she's worth her weight in gold. And talking of different special needs, I hope you didn't miss Countryfile on Sunday when Adam the farmer went to visit Pennyhooks Farm. It's a farm which works with young people, giving them life skills and education, and where Rachel does some of her work. If you didn't you can see it 14 minutes into this:  Countryfile including 'care farms'. I think it's impressive.

http://www.pennyhooks.com/