My background as a leader was unorthodox. My service role was such that I could tell the guys what to do, when to do it and maybe even venture into how to do it but, as investigators, once beyond my door their individual decisions had priority. Management was there expressed by reviewing the results of their work and debating if it could be improved and, if so, where and how.
My civilian being was much the same. The abilities needed from the post clerk through to the resident engineer in a large and complex office were so different that one managed 'x' individuals or small groups rather than the department as a whole.
The thing I did try to do was emphasis that they worked for me and not some knucklhead who accosted them on the stairs. Any mistake they made was my fault in that I had not foreseen what happened and managed it away. I would never accept the “I did not know what to do (so did nothing” mantra. At the very least, they were expected to contact me with the situation. Most mistakes would be dealt with inside the team but if they had done deserved some official disciplining or additional training, that is what happened.
This self-aggrandisement is to show what I mean by being in a leader in a management position. Firm, not very democratic, individuals responsible for earning the rewards one receives. Why is this latter-day Drucker emoting?
We have an Education Minister. Of all things that he might be tackling in the abysmal education system kids of today's Oliver Twist society, he decided to focus on faith schools. We have a significant number of these where parents may be comfortable that their off-spring are receiving training in the subjects and manner deemed appropriate to their religion. So, scattered around like berries in the bush of education, we have little knots of 100% Jewish or Muslim or Catholic or Protestant schools. Roaming in the undergrowth, we have pellets of those of no faith, really minority religions and those whose parents are not sufficiently committed as to care how their children are dragged up/raised. So, the bold Alun proposes that faith schools will have to have 25% of the school population made up of these minority or unaligned children. Good idea I hear you say. With the knowledge we have of the wider world today, what could be wrong with Jew alongside Muslim, (Belfast) Catholics singing from the same hymn sheet as (Belfast) Proddies. Buddhists alongside dreadlocked Rasta kids. There are such people as devil worshippers whose children have to have an education regardless. Thankfully, someone saw the light. I suspect it might have been the Junior crystal interpreter to the wide-mouthed frog that is POTUK's wife. Despite her penchant for using her legal training to defend wacky individuals and ideas, she feared that her highly lucrative gossip tours to America might be put under threat by pressure of work in her day job.
Here again we see the traits of our rush-to-legislate political masters. Do not bother with anything that might gather information to formulate a policy that works as it comes from the box. Pass a law. Being in a hurry will excuse flaws in the wording or impossibilities in the execution of the new rules. After the climb down comes the excuses. Here it seems the spin is that the law was really intended to bring all parties to the debating chamber where they would come to agreement on how to attain the government's aim. This against the background where the media has been full of reports about the tremendous objection by RC and Protestants. This brings us back neatly to the Machiavellian attitude of my opening words. The Army in Germany decreed that we all had to learn German to improve relationships with the locals. I volunteered to go on the first such course. I had no personal wish or professional cause to use any German and was challenged by my boss who knew of this. “Why volunteer for something you will hate?” Reason – “I'll certainly hate it but would hate it a damned sight more if actually ordered to attend”
We now have another Comedy of Errors on the running order. The Producer is Fcukwit Hewitt and the cast is self-selecting even as I write. She was telling Bedtime Stories aka Gobment policy and suggested that there be an extra tax on drink to deter the rise in binge drinking. Apart from the fact that the caravan-dragging imbecile is our Health Minister (no don't laugh. It is cruel to mock the afflicted), tax matters are very very much the preserve of Gordy Brown as Chancellor. With fine Scots "See You" manners, he has had his deparment administer a swift kicking to her bed pan area. Obviously, the far from fair Patricia has not learned to ensure that Brain is switched on before selection Drive. What else might one expect of a Health Minister? One has only to look at the state of our Mental Health Services.
As a method to deter binging, it stands even less chance of success than other moves against the demon drink. In the shurly sum mistook orficer arena, one has to remember just how desperately our horoes fought to introduce 24 hour access to booze. Never mind righ hand not knowing what left hand is doing - here we have disassociation between index and ring fingers of the same hand.
On the subject of brains, I have been cogitating on the equation that looks something like Politicians - brain power of :: Pointers short haired - brain power of. Answer is abysmal :: awesome.
Yesterday, I treated my dog to a new toy. Ended up with a squeaky toy something like a dachshund. We played with it for a bit and then I left her to it. I heard her trot out of the kitchen and then a rattling in her toy box. She then came to me with two toys in her mouth. The new one plus an almost identical red one she has had for some five years. It had lost the squeak and she had given up on it. She remembered exactly where the twin was though!
When she goes swimming, it sometimes happens that the stick thrown into the sea is waterlogged and sinks out of sight. This is a winter thing mainly. She used to swim out and then get upset because she could not retrieve for me. I either had to call her off - which she resented - or throw a stick that was sure to float. Today I threw the first stick - one I had doubts of. Sable stood at the water's edge and watched the splash area. Sure enough, a sinker. She looked at me and, I swear, laughed. You cannot catch me with that she was very clearly saying. The average politician would have sold the new toy for a pittance and drowned alongside the wet stick.
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