Ed Miliband, Mr Boys and the Rising, Falling Bills

I don't think that I should be allowed to watch the news on TV too often. It can't be good for my blood pressure, really! The Labour Party has a new leader. Well that had to happen, and there is nothing really shocking about their choice of leader. As night follows day, Ed Miliband (lightweight, cheeky chappy) follows Gordon Brown (heavyweight, dour old goat).

It wasn't actually his appointment as leader that really got me thinking. There was a report on one of the news programmes highlighting the reasons why Labour voters switched, in droves, to Conservative in the last general election. We all know that the traditional Labour heartlands lie 'up in t' North' and so some intrepid reporter hiked up to Bacup, a little north of Manchester, to do some research.

Here we have a shot of a group of 'skilled manual workers' - builders in hardhats - displaying their natural behaviour. That is to say, drinking tea and reading the Sun newspaper with an almost painful level of concentration, given that said publication is little more than a comic. Anyway, our intrepid reporter enquires of one of the builders - or perhaps he was a plasterer - why he switched his vote from red to blue. The insightful answer was as follows. 'Me bills keep going up and Labour did nothing about it'.

OK, this guy is a working class foot soldier, by no means white collar so let's give him a break. Cut to Mr Boys (one of the brothers Boys who are the proprietors of the building firm in the spotlight). Again, the question of his changed loyalty is posed. Answer... 'Me bills keep going up and Labour did nothing about it'. Right. Did these guys rehearse the answer? Or is it just an illustration of why groups of blokes who down a few beers together in their local, are only a hairs breadth from saying 'baa'?

Now here's the thing. Let us just ignore the fact that basing the decision on where to cast your vote simply by the price of ready meals at Asda is a little narrow, perhaps even irresponsible -perish the thought the larger view might be taken into consideration - and look at the veracity of the statement. According to statistics (I just love those naughty numbers) the way in which UK households spend their hard-earned has changed enormously since 1957 when this particular kind of record keeping and analysing began. I think that Mr Boys of Bacup may be a little surprised were he to find these figures in tomorrows copy of his favourite red-top.

In 1957 the average household spent 6% on fuel - by 2008 that had fallen to 3%

Food and non-alcoholic drink in 1957 a staggering 33% - by 2008, 13%

Clothes and Shoes, 1957, 10% - by 2008 a measly 5%

I bet you can already guess which figure has risen in that period. Leisure - up from 2% to a whacking great big 14%.

I don't think it has occurred to Mr Boys or his plasterer for that matter, that nowadays people have lots more things to spend their money on. Gone are the days (as faithfully recounted by my wonderful, wise Nana) that her neighbours children had one pair of boots between them and took turns when going outside to play. Gone are the days, when I was a child, when kids asked each other 'Has your dad got a car?' - not everybody did in 1965. Watching that band of 'skilled manual workers', I just wanted to slap their ungrateful, short-sighted, selfish faces. Mr Boys' plasterer seemed to me to be sporting a pretty well advanced beer-belly, not, I would venture, a swollen liver, as many children of the developing world have, due to actual malnutrition.

Even more illuminating is the fact that, although we spend less on fuel, our houses are better insulated. Meaning that we actually get far more bang for our bucks. So, I have a suggestion for Mr Boys and his merry crew. In fact, I have a few.

Don't misunderstand. I'm not suggesting we go back to the 1950s, reposition our toilets outside and shiver in winter in completely uninsulated homes. No. My first suggestion would be that we actually appreciate how incredibly privileged we are in the western world. Secondly, how about we try and reduce the appalling 35% of edible food that is thrown away in the UK. That'd save you a couple of quid.

Oh, and maybe instead of lounging around the house in a tee-shirt in the middle of winter, why not turn down the thermostat just a degree or two, put on a jumper... because it's the MIDDLE OF WINTER!! Kerching, another couple quid saved. And the result is... you still have a better standard of living than most of the population of the world, your carbon footprint reduces and the world utters a little thank-you.

Better still, your bills will fall too, and not one politician had to do a single damned thing to make it happen, but - will wonders never cease - you did it for yourself!

Education, Dylan and the Elephant in the Room

I watched a programme last night on TV. I'd seen the trailer for it - 'The Classroom Experiment' - and I thought it sounded interesting. And it was, but perhaps for some of the wrong reasons. The deputy director of the Institute for Education, Dylan Wiliam (left), tries out some 'radical' new ideas in a comprehensive school in Borehamwood. The school was described as typical and, no doubt, it's pupils are typical too.

I like radical and new and I'm interested in the way children are educated. So I settled down in front the of the TV ready to see these 'radical' techniques in action. I have to say, I was pretty disappointed. This guy from the Institute of Education, who is undoubtedly paid large sums to come up with new and radical ideas, tried to introduce the 'no hands up' idea to a group of 12 and 13 year olds. His theory being that teachers tend to ask the same old pupils over and over again to answer questions and the shyer pupils lose interest. Makes sense so far.

But hey, hang on a minute - radical? I don't think so. As far as I'm aware that sort of technique has been used since Victorian times to engage the whole class and try and prevent some pupils being left behind. I remember teachers addressing questions to individual pupils back in my school days as well as the 'raise your hands' method. It's hardly new. Our Dylan's ideas departed from the old in one sense. Lolly sticks in a jam jar with each child's name on it to be picked at random by the teacher.

And as for the exercise before lessons - a 10 minute mini PE lesson before school as a radical idea - I remember seeing old black and white footage from way back where kids were waving arms around madly dressed in their ordinary clothes, standing next to their desks in the classroom. I think it was called 'Drill'. Same sort of principle was espoused by the boy scouts. Healthy body, healthy mind and all that.

Then we have the 'radical' white boards - children in the 'experiment' write answers on a mini white board and wave it about so that everyone is joining in and the teacher can quickly scan the boards, presumably to check if the kids are keeping up. Erm... a bit like slates each school pupil had 150 years ago, so the teacher could, er, check to see if..... you get the picture

Now here's the thing. This guy is getting paid shed loads of money, and getting his 15 minutes of fame simply by re-introducing ideas that were old-hat even when I was in school back in the 60s and 70s. Not bad work if you can get it.

Don't misunderstand. It's not that I object to him as an individual making a few quid out of a set of re-jigged but nonetheless old ideas, or that I think, in principle that they don't work. I think for the average pupil they probably do. Statistics are a funny thing -they can show a picture, but, I'd like to bet, not always the whole picture. The head teacher of the school where the 'experiment' was carried out seems pleased as punch that his pupils are learning more quickly and effectively - the statistics appear to bear this out. But here's my question. How about the bright pupils, the ones who are getting to engage with the teacher on fewer occasions than they were before.

I think our Dylan made his position clear when he stated 'People don't start smart they get smart'. Well get you, Mr Wiliam. Very politically correct. I'm sure there are subtleties in his position which weren't covered in the programme, and I must say that in essence I agree with him. Better education surely leads to more knowledgeable students. But I also agree with the sentiments often voiced by my wise old Nana - 'You can't make a silk purse out of a sows ear'.

I felt sorry for the obviously bright kids highlighted in the programme. They wanted to race ahead, they were naturally engaged in the lessons without the need for lolly sticks, white boards and drill and yet they had to hold back and wait for other kids to catch up. The ethos of our education system is currently 'no child left behind' - a very good and worthy aim for sure. But how about 'no child held back'?

So now it's time for me to start sounding like a middle-aged reactionary. Grammar Schools! Why are we so afraid of hot-housing children. The UK is fast falling behind, in educational terms, when compared to other '1st world' countries. I'm not an expert. Just an ex-child. I knew some kids were brighter than me and also some were thicker than me. I knew that I would never, ever be picked for a school sports team - I was absolutely hopeless at PE. I also know for sure that the grammar school I went to enabled me to have an education my parents would never have been able to afford to buy. But nowadays, with the exception of the few grammar schools remaining, the only kids who are guaranteed to get a good education are those whose parents can afford to pay for it.

So comprehensive education means an equal opportunity for all, except if you're parents are minted, in which case you get lots of advantages.

If Dylan Wiliam has no problem bringing back old ideas into the classroom to improve the education of British children couldn't he just go the whole hog, recognise the elephant in the room, and suggest we bring back grammar schools too.

Some are more equal than others.....

How could anyone look at day old chicks and not say ahhh! I find it pretty hard to resist doing just that myself, but as most of these are destined to be 'table birds' I think it's a good idea not to let myself get sentimental about it.

These chicks were the first we've ever hatched out ourselves, although we have had chickens before. For the uninitiated (and I was one of those only a couple of months ago) the theory goes; you put fertile eggs in the incubator and 21 days later chicks hatch out, and in their case 18 weeks after that they will be selected as layers, or not! So, you can imagine on Friday morning when I came down and looked into the incubator and saw that one of the shells had a tell-tale crack in it, I was all of a flutter.

It seemed like a good idea to watch the process from start to finish. What better way to learn than to watch. So I gathered around me the essentials for the process - ashtray, tobacco, note book, pencil, glasses, torch (it's pretty gloomily lit, that incubator) large bean bag cushion to sit on - and told Graham that I would be there until it was done.

I have to say that it was a fascinating process to watch, but the whole event took considerably longer than I expected. First pip (that is when a crack appears in the shell) to last viable chick out was a total of 36 hours. I did manage to grab a couple of hours sleep and missed two of the 10 hatchees hatching, but other than that I spent the time watching, writing things down in my normal OCD way and chomping on the occasional sandwich supplied by Graham.

Now here's the thing. Whilst watching the whole process unravel what struck me was how different each of the chicks was, one compared to the other. I've always been really fascinated by the nature / nurture question.

How much personality can a chick have? Well, in my opinion, not much in the real sense of 'personality' but their behaviour and perhaps even intelligence would seem to vary between individuals. Since all of the eggs went into the incubator on the same day, at the same time and have been turned (as eggs are by the hen) automatically for the duration I think we could say that the environment before they hatched was pretty much the same. Not so the way they hatched. Some pipped and then unzipped the egg in a matter of minutes and others took ages - as much as 27 hours - in between.

One particular chick - for the purposes of this blog it shall be known as speedy - found, within a hour or two of hatching that you could peck at drops of condensation in the incubator and drink it. The first time it did it it could have been an accident, but I don't think so. Chicks are left in the incubator for a while after they hatch - say 6 hours or so - while they dry out and fluff up. While waiting for his 'do' to dry, speedy repeatedly visited the corner of the incubator with what look like purpose and pecked at the droplets. I think that would be described as learning.

So, on Saturday evening all 10 of the chicks went into a brooder - basically a cardboard box with a big, warm light over it - and got their first crack at food and water. There are not prizes for guessing which chick got the hang of the feeders first. Yes, speedy.

Another surprise to me was that at a day old the chicks are establishing a pecking order. Despite being 'cute', the main, or perhaps even the only purpose a chick's behaviour serves is to ensure it's survival. Already there are jostles at the feeding station. Some back down and others peck at their rivals until they secure a place at the feeder. They are not quite cuckoos pushing their nest-mates out to certain death, but they are obviously quite prepared to dole out a sharp jab at any sib who gets in the way. Of course to ensure relative peace later on, a pecking order is essential, otherwise there would be constant, energy wasting battles. In other words some chicks just have to know their place from the outset in order that relative harmony can reign.

You see, in nature not all animals would seem to be born equal. Although we like to attribute human feelings and behaviours to animals something tells me that we are missing some valuable lessons from animals - even those as simple as chickens - by muddying the observational waters with sentiment.

We know that humans are not equal, although of course, every person should have the same opportunities as a human right. It's more complex issue for us than which of us gets to the ground cornmeal first, but perhaps there needs to be a stable hierarchy in order for any group of social animals to prosper. Those of us who grew up in the 60's and 70's will remember a lot of social change, and for sure, lots of great changes did happen at that time. Being gay stopped being illegal, being a woman, in the main, stopped meaning you were automatically a second class citizen. Although more could be done a lot a happened in the last 50 years to improve the opportunities people have in life to be well fed, educated, and respected for what they are. However, I do wonder if we've thrown that proverbial baby out with the bath water.

Don't misunderstand. I'm not suggesting that we go back to feudal times when the top guy got to live in luxury while the masses lived in hovels, doffing and forelock tugging to keep a livelihood. I think I'm talking about mentors. And by mentors I am not talking about WAGS, dubious celebrities and people famous only for being famous. So not the girl or boy next door. I think I would like to see authority figures that actually can be respected because they don't treat their jobs simply as a means to get their noses in the trough. If the people at the top are those who can be truly respected I think that might lend more stability to society as a whole.

Speedy(perhaps a politician in another life), just goes for jabbing before getting his cute beak in the trough.

Happy versus Unhappy Meals, No Toy Included

Yesterday, Graham and I went to buy a Cockerel. We'd been told about the location of a farm in northern Mayenne where there are chickens, ducks and geese, amongst others, for sale. Great! We wanted to get a cockerel that's not related to our hens (the ones that are due to hatch on Sunday, and, we hope, will become hens). So off we go, following the directions kindly given to us by our friend Richard. The last line on the notes said, 'You will see the cages as you go up the slope'. And indeed we did.

Imagine the scene. We're driving along the back roads of 'France profond', the low autumn sun glinting on the leaves. It's warm and peaceful. Lovely. In my minds eye I'd imagined these cages, probably populated by happy chickens and ducks, clucking and quacking merrily, scratching around in the lazy autumn sunshine.

Erm, no! The sight that met our eyes when we drove up the last slope was not quite what I'd expected. Inside a huge green metal hangar were row upon row of cages, piled 6 or 7 high. If you were to imagine a plastic cat transporter, only sort of flattened, that would give you an idea. In each of these cages were birds - maybe 6 or 7 in each. White chickens, brown chickens, grey chickens, ducks in khaki and white and big grey geese that were sort of folded up to fit in. It was also really quiet in the hangar. No contented clucking there, oh no.

We asked the smiling, friendly french farmer if he had the breed we wanted, he answered yes, asked how many, grabbed two boxes and unceremoniously stuffed the two hens in one cardboard box and a young cockerel in another. Five minutes, tinkle of the till and we're back on the country roads on our way home.

Now here's the thing. In France, at least around where we live almost everyone who has a little space raises chickens and ducks. You see them waddling around all over the place. Usually in very large runs looking exactly like that idyllic picture. Our french neighbours do not give their chickens names and are quite happy to talk about the fineness of the flesh and their rapidity of growth. It might seem heartless to a Brit - and some expats here will exclaim quite firmly 'I would never eat MY chickens'.

Don't misunderstand. I'm not saying it is pleasant to see all those young birds crammed into cages ready for sale, but the ones I saw seemed healthy and well grown, if a little too quiet for my liking. However, most will be sold to people like me (Brit or French) who will raise them free-range, eat the eggs and the surplus birds. In France the percentage of chickens sold that are free-range or outdoor reared is around 80%. That is very high compared say to the UK or US. It's not because the French love animals more, but that they prize quality over quantity. An average chicken in the local supermarche is around 9 euros and the taste of the cooked bird is just wonderful. Sometimes, at the bottom of the chiller cabinet you might see a 'Bien Vu' (bargain) chicken for 4 euros but they certainly don't seem to be too popular with the locals.

We've been living in France for just under two years, and whilst I wouldn't describe myself as being blinded by Francophilia I certainly think that there are things the French do better than the Brits.

Putting aside the quality of the food, for which France is famous, I have noticed that the attitude the French have to the animals they rear for food is quite different to that in the UK. It's interesting that, unlike in the modern English language, French usually only has one word for both the animal and the meat that you get from said animal. Porc from a porc, boeuf from a boeuf, mouton from a mouton etc... whilst we Brits use a corruption of the French for the meat and the old English for the animal itself. Pork from pig, beef from a cow, mutton from a sheep. There's a distinct difference in the name and it seems, for most Brits a distinct difference between the pork you eat for your dinner and the cute little piggie starring in 'Babe'.

Perhaps it's this separation between animal and pre-packed supermarket meat that means that people in the UK are able to coo and ahhh over a fluffy easter chick and then eat chicken nuggets made from factory farmed birds whose life is valued at £2 a kilo. Personally I prefer the honesty of the French way. That's not to say that some practices couldn't and shouldn't be improved. Just that, at least here, people are fully aware of what they are eating and in many cases, due to the French obsession about knowing the origins of food, where and how it was raised and slaughtered. I think perhaps that separating ourselves from the unsentimental side of meat production may lead to at least two difficulties. Firstly that the farmers know that the Brits (and by all accounts urbanised Americans too) 'don't want to know' about the animal they're eating, and so, in some senses makes dubious animal husbandry all the easier to carry out. Secondly, I really feel it only adds to the infantilisation of adults in advanced cultures. Almost as if feelings must be spared in order that we can continue to live in a make believe world, ignoring the fact that most fluffy little chicks will never, ever see the autumn sunshine - but a ready to cook bird, on offer, can sell for a couple of quid.

The French know that it's worth looking after animals well in order to ensure a good eating experience - and they're prepared to pay for it. In 2005 the percentage of disposable income spent on food in the UK was around 11% whereas in France it was around 16%. The French know that happy meat tastes better but costs more - simple.

When the chicks hatch out on Sunday, I am going to take an Anglo-French approach. I will resist ahh-ing and they will be issued numbers, not names. However, watch out for the posted pictures on Facebook. It would provoke a gallic shrug and a small shake of the head from our French neighbours but what the hell - I'm no chickens mother, but I hope to be a proud hatcher!

Cameron and The Pope - Can you believe it?

Well, I enjoyed writing my first blog so much, I thought I'd do it again.... More greeny, eco, tree-huggy issues? I can almost hear my long-suffering friends ask. But no, not today! (Probably).

Now here's the thing. The prime minister of Britain loved having the Pope come to call. The 'farewell' speech he made was a triumph of style over accurate content, but it got me thinking nonetheless. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-11366518 to see it, or http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/news/2010/09/19/cameron-tells-pope-you-have-made-britain-sit-up-and-think/ to read it.

I mean we humans love religion don't we? In the sixties the Beatles may have claimed that they were more popular than Jesus, but take a poll over the last 4,000 years and I think we'll find that religious belief has been more popular than, well, almost anything else at all. It's pretty easy to see why. We humans do a lot of thinking, and once you start thinking about the fact you might actually die and stop being able to think at all, it's a neat idea, that if you behave yourself, you get to go to heaven (or the equivalent), reincarnate so you can come back and have another go, meet with your dead relatives and friends and sit around watching lions and lambs frolicking together. It certainly takes the fear out of death!

Also, if you believe we are hierarchical animals just like, say wolves and cute little meerkats, then we like to have someone at the top to take the strain out of decision making. We like hierarchy so much we even invent invisible 'top dogs' to plonk on the top of the pile. Not for nothing do we hear 'Our father', 'king of kings' - you get the idea. And, by golly, this religious thing has really worked.

It's a pretty powerful thing that will send Christians on crusades to hack Saracens to pieces and of course to have those Saracens do a fair bit of hacking themselves - not to mention flying into tall buildings in the name of an invisible top dog you've never actually heard bark, or to drown the woman who knows about herbal remedies in the village pond in the name of a boss you've never even glimpsed. It's true - faith is a powerful motivator.

But here is the problem those old religions have. I like to call it the update conundrum. I quite like the idea that religious beliefs are impervious, steadfast and unchanging. I don't suppose that all-knowing top dog would, say, go to the trouble of making rules on tablets of stone if he didn't expect them to last. Religions are full of texts telling us what we can and can't do, and evidentially people like to have rules to follow - I mean, nobody is going to be persuaded to drag a load of very heavy stones from Wales to Stonehenge if they didn't buy into the importance of it all. And then came modern life....

Suddenly, we humans can mostly all read, watch TV, 'stumble-upon', sign up to Amnesty International, enjoy the freedom of speech, sexual orientation and choice of holiday destination and all manner of things which by their very existence take us further away from accepting unquestioning faith. So here's the conundrum. Do the big religions of the world modernise, listen to the breakaway priests who want gays recognised in the church, allow women to lower their veils, knock celibacy on the head, open drive-in churches and lots of other ideas to make religions more appealing to the modern person. I don't like it.

You can only dilute something so much before you lose the taste altogether.

Here's a thought. Maybe these religions are obsolete! Oh no!!! What about our needs? What about the horrible fear of life being pointless, existential angst being assuaged by the promise of a fabulous hereafter? What about a world without a big Dad in the sky? We've tried to calm ourselves in the growing absence of a god by buying lots of things, drinking lots of shots, and making like the Romans as the empire collapsed. Not really working though.

Here's another thought. Maybe the druids had some stuff just right. Nature as a god? Stewardship of our planet and respect for life. It certainly ticks some of the boxes... do you think people might feel better with that as a purpose? I think so. I'm not talking about sacrificing small mammals at the foot of large oak trees. Just understanding that our future, as in the lives of our children and grandchildren, is in our hands. If we look after our planet that future has a chance. (Oh joy, I can slip in the tree-hugs now!!)

Being aware of our impact on the planet will not lead to an afterlife watching vegetarian crocodiles giving swimming lessons to ducklings, but it will mean we have a purpose - a purpose conceived in the modern world, from modern science and without any inbuilt contradictions. It's true we can't actually see or hear the overall effects of man's bad ecological behaviour on the planet - although we can see and feel some of it.

It's true, we don't actually know exactly what the future holds if we keep on doing the same. Uncertainty, and lack of definitive proof just about characterises old religions - religions people have been prepared to kill and die for. So doesn't that make eco-responsibility an ideal fresh and new candidate for us to throw the full weight of human faith behind. I don't like waste or conspicuous consumption, but in this case I say.... Chuck out those tired, old beliefs and LET'S JUST GET SOME NEW ONES!

Ailsa's iThink: Sustainable Americans, jams jars and me

The other day, there was an American guy in my kitchen. In fact he was one of many American guys and assorted others who have been to our place in France over the summer thanks to the heaven-sent http://www.helpx.net/ - an organisation that brings together people. We provide accommodation and food and the helpxers provide labour. It's a great deal!

Anyway, there we were in kitchen while this guy is talking about sustainability and telling us all the reasons why the 'American Way' is not a good way at all. He really talked a good game, his arguments articulate, heart-felt. As he talked, he walked to the bin and dropped in a just-emptied jam jar with an ominous clang.

"Can I just stop you there?"

Now here's the thing. Over the summer we've met some really great people about 50% of which came to us from the US. The surprising thing for me has been that, contrary to my prejudiced expectations, the kids (and I say kids, which means anyone up to the age of 30) who came to us from the states were not bullish, confident and self-assured. Not at all. In fact most, if not all, came across as apologetic, unsure, naive, nervous and pretty ignorant of the world outside of their own. Don't misunderstand! All of them were also helpful, polite and very willing which made them pretty great to be around.

Our kitchen has been full of chargers. iPod, iPad, iTouch, Lap Tops, Palm Tops and lots of other tech gadgets that I didn't even recognise. Everyone had to post to Facebook - and that's a great way to keep in touch - I like Facebook. So there it is, all that access to knowledge. All that potential. But despite all our wonderful 21st century communication system, the questions that were asked and statements made were pretty unexpected. Some examples....

"Can you eat that? " Looking at a pea plant in the veg garden

"Do you have bees here?"

"You don't wash your jeans every day?" On learning I wear my work jeans for 4 or 5 days before they go in the wash.

"Where is the AC?" When the temperature reached 30 degrees

"I didn't know cream was liquid to start with!"

"I don't like to eat anything that comes out of the dirt"

And so on... What struck me so forcibly was the extent to which these kids had been advertised at. The Americans seemed to have an almost pathological fear of dirt and the contents of their backpacks were testament to this. The cosmetic, soaps and deodorants outnumbered even the gadgets. Lever Bros have certainly made good returns on their ad campaigns. And yet, the theme each night at the dinner table was sustainability and these kids knew their theory. Only trouble is, like their disconnection from nature, they seemed also to suffer the same kind of disconnection between the theory of sustainability and the actual day to day reality.

When you understand nature, you understand the interconnected, interdependant way it works. Sustainability isn't a new thing, nature has been doing it brilliantly for a long time. It's the little things that add up to big changes. I like to campaign myself against soil being referred to as 'dirt'. It's not dirt - it's the substance from which almost all our food comes from. I'd like to suggest that it isn't bad that humans smell like humans - not that I'm suggesting we all have to smell rancid. That to wear an item of clothing twice or even THREE times will not bring down international governments or lead to rioting in the streets, but will cut your electricity bills and carbon emissions.

These kids knew about global water shortages and still wanted to shower twice a day. They understood that bee populations in the world are at risk and still wanted to zap them in case they might sting. I applaud their enthusiasm and genuine desire to learn and contribute - it makes me much more hopeful for the future. But please, DON'T PUT THE JAM JAR IN THE BIN. Recycle it!