MPs' EXPENSES (2)
There has been a lot of talk in the U.K. press this weekend about how David Laws is an "honourable man" with oodles of "integrity". I have to say I think he is more than a bit of a dork.
A former banker, Mr. Laws is the economic brains of the Liberal Democrats and one of the main architects of the coalition agreement that has propelled his party into Government for the first time in more than a generation. His reward was to be made Chief Secretary to the Treasury, in effect deputy Finance Minister to the Conservative Chancellor George Osborne. The Chief Secretary's job is to control public spending by other Ministers, and so is a difficult one at the best of times. Since this government will have to make huge cuts in public spending, starting immediately, the job is even harder than normal.
However, it will not be Mr. Laws who will be doing it. After just 18 days in office, he resigned. It transpired that he had claimed up to £40,000 in expenses (paid for by the taxpayer) for renting a room in London while he attended Parliament. The problem was that the room was in a property owned by his partner of the past 9 years, James Lundie. Under the rules, that is not allowed.
Mr. Laws says that he never considered Mr. Lundie to be his partner, in part because they did not share bank accounts. This is unconvincing; I have been married to my wife for nearly 20 years, and we do not share bank accounts. He also said that he wanted to protect their privacy and not reveal his own sexuality (nether family nor friends knew of the relationship). Again, this is unconvincing. The easiest way to do that would be not to have made a claim. Mr. Laws - in effect - agrees that these reasons are unconvincing, since he has resigned, will be paying the money back, and has asked the Parliamentary Standards Commissioner to investigate. As he himself put it, he can't escape the conclusion that what he did was "in some way wrong".
Exactly how wrong must await the outcome of that investigation. But that is not what makes Mr. Laws a dork, it is something else. Every politician in the U.K. - indeed, every voter - has known for at least a year that the system of claiming for Parliamentary expenses was rotten. Nearly everybody in Parliament was affected, a large number of the biggest culprits were forced to stand down before the recent general election, five of the worst offenders were prosecuted. If there was even the tiniest doubt about the legitimacy or otherwise of Mr. Laws' actions - or even if there wasn't - then the time to have put his cards on the table was then. He might have run into trouble, he might not (others did things that were far worse). But at least the electorate, both local and national, would have known where he stood. And he would not have ended up in the position where people affected by his decisions to cut public expenditure could reply "why can't I get money from the state when you can?". Forget everything about privacy and sexuality, this was a colossal political misjudgement.
Nick Clegg promised that the Liberal Democrats represented a new kind of politics. Mr. Laws has succinctly demonstrated that they don't. If I were Mr. Clegg, I would be furious (despite his protestations of support). And more than a little worried. If he didn't know what one of his closest associates had been doing, then what else doesn't he know? That question might well gnaw more than usual, given that the original revelations came not from Mr. Laws himself but from the Daily Telegraph. The right-wing newspaper has been the honourable champion behind the expenses revelations, but it is also undoubtedly a supporter of "the Conservatives should rule alone" mentality. Will there now be a dripfeed of revelations about other politicians in order to put the coalition under pressure?
Walter Blotscher
Monday 31 May 2010
Sunday 30 May 2010
GIRO D'ITALIA (2)
After three weeks, 21 stages and roughly 3,500km of racing, Ivan Basso won this year's Giro d'Italia by a margin of just 111 seconds. It was the Italian's second victory in his home Grand Tour, but almost certainly a more satisfying one. In 2006 he simply blew his rivals away, leading one of them to say that he was not from this planet. That accusation acquired momentum when Basso was withdrawn at the last moment from the 2007 Tour de France - which he was favourite to win - after being caught up in the Spanish blood-doping inquiry Operation Puerto. After serving a 2-year suspension, he returned to the peleton at the beginning of 2009, but was not one of the top contenders at last year's Giro.
This year, however, was different, and he was clearly the strongest man in the high mountains of the final week. He also had the benefit of a powerful Liquigas team that not only convincingly won the team time-trial, but also managed to position more men around him when the gradients began to hurt. Once again, it underlined the importance in cycling of a supportive team; Basso still had to finish the job, but he wouldn't have been able to do it without their first having put him in the right position.
My earlier prediction that it would be Carlos Sastre turned out to be hopelessly wrong, as the Spaniard starting going backwards as soon as I had named him. Neither he nor his team were as strong as they needed to be. Neither could world champion Cadel Evans's titanic efforts make up for the fact that his BMC team is not even up to Pro Tour standard, but has a second-tier continental licence.
So, well done Basso. Here is my prediction for this year's Tour de France. It won't be Sastre or Evans, since they don't have the team. It won't be Basso, since it is almost impossible to win the Giro and the Tour in the same year (though another Liquigas rider might make the top five). It won't be Lance Armstrong, he is simply too old. It will instead boil down to a straight fight between two men not at the Giro, Astana's Alberto Contador and Saxo Bank's Andy Schleck. My heart is with Schleck, but my head says Contador.
Walter Blotscher
After three weeks, 21 stages and roughly 3,500km of racing, Ivan Basso won this year's Giro d'Italia by a margin of just 111 seconds. It was the Italian's second victory in his home Grand Tour, but almost certainly a more satisfying one. In 2006 he simply blew his rivals away, leading one of them to say that he was not from this planet. That accusation acquired momentum when Basso was withdrawn at the last moment from the 2007 Tour de France - which he was favourite to win - after being caught up in the Spanish blood-doping inquiry Operation Puerto. After serving a 2-year suspension, he returned to the peleton at the beginning of 2009, but was not one of the top contenders at last year's Giro.
This year, however, was different, and he was clearly the strongest man in the high mountains of the final week. He also had the benefit of a powerful Liquigas team that not only convincingly won the team time-trial, but also managed to position more men around him when the gradients began to hurt. Once again, it underlined the importance in cycling of a supportive team; Basso still had to finish the job, but he wouldn't have been able to do it without their first having put him in the right position.
My earlier prediction that it would be Carlos Sastre turned out to be hopelessly wrong, as the Spaniard starting going backwards as soon as I had named him. Neither he nor his team were as strong as they needed to be. Neither could world champion Cadel Evans's titanic efforts make up for the fact that his BMC team is not even up to Pro Tour standard, but has a second-tier continental licence.
So, well done Basso. Here is my prediction for this year's Tour de France. It won't be Sastre or Evans, since they don't have the team. It won't be Basso, since it is almost impossible to win the Giro and the Tour in the same year (though another Liquigas rider might make the top five). It won't be Lance Armstrong, he is simply too old. It will instead boil down to a straight fight between two men not at the Giro, Astana's Alberto Contador and Saxo Bank's Andy Schleck. My heart is with Schleck, but my head says Contador.
Walter Blotscher
Saturday 29 May 2010
THE EUROVISION SONG CONTEST
If a Martian (or an Asiatic for that matter) ever needed evidence that Europe is not a homogeneous place, then they would need to look no further than tonight's Eurovision song contest, held this year in Norway.
Some features of the contest are familiar from EU politics. Greece votes for Cyprus and vice versa, as do Spain and Portugal. The East Europeans support each other. The big nations (Germany, France, Spain and the U.K.) get special favours, earning a bye directly into the final, instead of having to go through one of the two semi-finals. English is the dominant language, with many countries choosing it in preference to their national tongue; while French continues to fight a desperate rearguard action, as evidenced by the obligatory bilingual hosts (well, trilingual, if you include Norwegian). And the key to winning is the lowest common denominator principle; the song which is least offensive to the most other countries.
I saw part of the second semi-final on Thursday, which was a useful way of weeding out some of the more egregious entries. Holland's song sounded like an out-of-key fairground wurlitzer. Slovenia had the odd idea of combining a rock anthem with a traditional folk song. The Lithuanian boy band all bizarrely dropped their trousers. And Croatia's plan of using three leggy blondes in short dresses went awry when they decided to sing in Croat. Not a good idea.
The 25 songs on the night were more varied than usual. There was a thoughtful solo guitar act in English from Belgium of all people. The French entry was a lingala number from Kinshasa. The Belarussians and Romanians sang with thick East European accents and a grand piano. Serbia and Greece were awful. Spain sang twice, after a spectator invaded the stage during their act (though it didn't make the song any better). There were a lot of muscular and scantily-clad, if somewhat redundant, male dancers. And there was a fantastic "half-time show", where 18,000 people (1,000 people in 18 countries) did live dancing to a song in the studio.
The contest also showed how things in Europe are changing. The three big rock numbers came not from the U.K., but from Bosnia, Ukraine and Turkey. And two of the best female power ballads were from Azerbaijan and Georgia. All five were in English. I suspect that their parents would be gobsmacked.
And the winner was? Somewhat surprisingly, but by some margin, Lena from Germany, which was my daughter's choice. Singing in English, she sounded a bit like a Cockney trader. I rather liked Manga, the Turkish rock band, who came second. The U.K. deservedly came last.
Walter Blotscher
If a Martian (or an Asiatic for that matter) ever needed evidence that Europe is not a homogeneous place, then they would need to look no further than tonight's Eurovision song contest, held this year in Norway.
Some features of the contest are familiar from EU politics. Greece votes for Cyprus and vice versa, as do Spain and Portugal. The East Europeans support each other. The big nations (Germany, France, Spain and the U.K.) get special favours, earning a bye directly into the final, instead of having to go through one of the two semi-finals. English is the dominant language, with many countries choosing it in preference to their national tongue; while French continues to fight a desperate rearguard action, as evidenced by the obligatory bilingual hosts (well, trilingual, if you include Norwegian). And the key to winning is the lowest common denominator principle; the song which is least offensive to the most other countries.
I saw part of the second semi-final on Thursday, which was a useful way of weeding out some of the more egregious entries. Holland's song sounded like an out-of-key fairground wurlitzer. Slovenia had the odd idea of combining a rock anthem with a traditional folk song. The Lithuanian boy band all bizarrely dropped their trousers. And Croatia's plan of using three leggy blondes in short dresses went awry when they decided to sing in Croat. Not a good idea.
The 25 songs on the night were more varied than usual. There was a thoughtful solo guitar act in English from Belgium of all people. The French entry was a lingala number from Kinshasa. The Belarussians and Romanians sang with thick East European accents and a grand piano. Serbia and Greece were awful. Spain sang twice, after a spectator invaded the stage during their act (though it didn't make the song any better). There were a lot of muscular and scantily-clad, if somewhat redundant, male dancers. And there was a fantastic "half-time show", where 18,000 people (1,000 people in 18 countries) did live dancing to a song in the studio.
The contest also showed how things in Europe are changing. The three big rock numbers came not from the U.K., but from Bosnia, Ukraine and Turkey. And two of the best female power ballads were from Azerbaijan and Georgia. All five were in English. I suspect that their parents would be gobsmacked.
And the winner was? Somewhat surprisingly, but by some margin, Lena from Germany, which was my daughter's choice. Singing in English, she sounded a bit like a Cockney trader. I rather liked Manga, the Turkish rock band, who came second. The U.K. deservedly came last.
Walter Blotscher
Friday 28 May 2010
WOMEN'S TENNIS DRESSES
There is a new style in women's tennis dresses this year. Well, dress is probably the wrong word. It is more of a frilly skirt, almost a tutu really, worn over leggings that go down to the knees. Preferably of a different colour. Nadia Petrova is the leading exponent, but there are others.
Call me reactionary, but I have to say that I think they are ghastly. Not quite as ghastly as Svetlana Kuznetsova's shorts, which wouldn't look amiss on a prep-school boy; but nearly. I think it's the frills that get me, they just don't seem right for an activity that is designed to make you sweat.
The men, by contrast, are looking more elegant. Gone is the rather nasty "all-black" look of 5 years ago, now it is just baggy white shorts, and a simple coloured shirt. Roger Federer is looking particularly fetching in blue this year. But then, he doesn't ever really sweat.
Walter Blotscher
There is a new style in women's tennis dresses this year. Well, dress is probably the wrong word. It is more of a frilly skirt, almost a tutu really, worn over leggings that go down to the knees. Preferably of a different colour. Nadia Petrova is the leading exponent, but there are others.
Call me reactionary, but I have to say that I think they are ghastly. Not quite as ghastly as Svetlana Kuznetsova's shorts, which wouldn't look amiss on a prep-school boy; but nearly. I think it's the frills that get me, they just don't seem right for an activity that is designed to make you sweat.
The men, by contrast, are looking more elegant. Gone is the rather nasty "all-black" look of 5 years ago, now it is just baggy white shorts, and a simple coloured shirt. Roger Federer is looking particularly fetching in blue this year. But then, he doesn't ever really sweat.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday 27 May 2010
APPLE v. MICROSOFT
Apple has just overtaken Microsoft to become the world's most valuable technology company. This represents a remarkable turnaround for the former PC pioneer, which had a near-death experience during the 1990's, but which has surged back to financial health under the leadership of Steve Jobs and on the back of the range of savvy products (iPod, iPhone and iPad) that he has brought to market during the past decade. You have to go back to 1989 for the last time Apple was ahead of its rival.
This doesn't mean the end of Microsoft; with a market capitalisation of US$219 billion, it is still one of the largest and most valuable companies in the world, in any industry. Nevertheless, it should cause a few furrowed brows in Seattle. Microsoft currently has much greater sales (US$58.4 billion to US$36.5 billion) and net profits (US$14.6billion to US$5.7billion) than Apple. But Apple's value is higher because the market thinks that Apple has a greater potential to make money in the future. That should be worrying.
Yesterday's development reminds us that companies come and go, particularly in the technology field. When I first started work in 1980, the smartest companies all used Wang electric typewriters. Wang? Who now remembers WordPerfect, once the standard wordprocessing programme, and bought by Novell for a ludicrously high price in 1994? Indeed, who remembers Novell? Yes, companies come and companies go. Apple is one of the very few that have come, gone, and come back again.
Walter Blotscher
Apple has just overtaken Microsoft to become the world's most valuable technology company. This represents a remarkable turnaround for the former PC pioneer, which had a near-death experience during the 1990's, but which has surged back to financial health under the leadership of Steve Jobs and on the back of the range of savvy products (iPod, iPhone and iPad) that he has brought to market during the past decade. You have to go back to 1989 for the last time Apple was ahead of its rival.
This doesn't mean the end of Microsoft; with a market capitalisation of US$219 billion, it is still one of the largest and most valuable companies in the world, in any industry. Nevertheless, it should cause a few furrowed brows in Seattle. Microsoft currently has much greater sales (US$58.4 billion to US$36.5 billion) and net profits (US$14.6billion to US$5.7billion) than Apple. But Apple's value is higher because the market thinks that Apple has a greater potential to make money in the future. That should be worrying.
Yesterday's development reminds us that companies come and go, particularly in the technology field. When I first started work in 1980, the smartest companies all used Wang electric typewriters. Wang? Who now remembers WordPerfect, once the standard wordprocessing programme, and bought by Novell for a ludicrously high price in 1994? Indeed, who remembers Novell? Yes, companies come and companies go. Apple is one of the very few that have come, gone, and come back again.
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday 26 May 2010
LENTILS
I love lentils. Apart from the taste, I like their texture, midway between mushy and crunchy. They also make me feel good, allowing me to eat protein without having to eat water-and-other-resource-heavily-dependent-meat. That does not of course stop me from eating a juicy steak the very next day. But hey, who said I was consistent and non-hypocritical?
Each time I eat them, I find myself saying that I ought to eat them more often. The only difference this time is that I am saying it on my blog. And that is because I have just had two bowls of delicious lentil and bacon soup while watching Desperate Housewives with my daughter. One packet of bacon, one large onion, two carrots. Chop them all up and fry them in some oil, add lentils, water and seasoning, and simmer for 40 minutes. Wicked!
My daughter is now going to serve me tea and cake in bed. She has just started work at the local bakery, and got two strawberry cream tarts when the shop closed. Wicked again!
Walter Blotscher
I love lentils. Apart from the taste, I like their texture, midway between mushy and crunchy. They also make me feel good, allowing me to eat protein without having to eat water-and-other-resource-heavily-dependent-meat. That does not of course stop me from eating a juicy steak the very next day. But hey, who said I was consistent and non-hypocritical?
Each time I eat them, I find myself saying that I ought to eat them more often. The only difference this time is that I am saying it on my blog. And that is because I have just had two bowls of delicious lentil and bacon soup while watching Desperate Housewives with my daughter. One packet of bacon, one large onion, two carrots. Chop them all up and fry them in some oil, add lentils, water and seasoning, and simmer for 40 minutes. Wicked!
My daughter is now going to serve me tea and cake in bed. She has just started work at the local bakery, and got two strawberry cream tarts when the shop closed. Wicked again!
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday 25 May 2010
PILGRIMAGE
For the past few years my wife has gone on a "pilgrims' walk" at Whitsun. Over three days, they wander over nice parts of Fünen, the island in the middle of Denmark where we live, visiting and staying in old churches and ending up on the Monday evening with a service in Odense Cathedral. The trip apparently attracts all sorts; very religious, mildly religious, agnostic, even some professed heathens.
Because the Haj, the pilgrimage to Mecca that every Muslim is supposed to undertake at least once in their lives, is one of the five pillars of Islam, pilgrimage continues to thrive in the Muslim world. It is also big in Hinduism. Yet active pilgrimage, as opposed to tourism to places that have a religious history (eg Rome), is no longer a required part of Christianity. Pilgrims were common sights on the roads in mediaeval Europe, with secular leaders to the fore; but like modern-day hitchhikers, they seem to have disappeared.
By chance, my son was in Galicia at Whitsun, playing for the Great Britain national handball team. They visited a number of places, but failed to go to Santiago de Compostela, the shrine of St. James, and perhaps the second most important mediaeval pilgrimage site after Rome itself. That omission seemed to sum up the way the western world has changed.
Walter Blotscher
For the past few years my wife has gone on a "pilgrims' walk" at Whitsun. Over three days, they wander over nice parts of Fünen, the island in the middle of Denmark where we live, visiting and staying in old churches and ending up on the Monday evening with a service in Odense Cathedral. The trip apparently attracts all sorts; very religious, mildly religious, agnostic, even some professed heathens.
Because the Haj, the pilgrimage to Mecca that every Muslim is supposed to undertake at least once in their lives, is one of the five pillars of Islam, pilgrimage continues to thrive in the Muslim world. It is also big in Hinduism. Yet active pilgrimage, as opposed to tourism to places that have a religious history (eg Rome), is no longer a required part of Christianity. Pilgrims were common sights on the roads in mediaeval Europe, with secular leaders to the fore; but like modern-day hitchhikers, they seem to have disappeared.
By chance, my son was in Galicia at Whitsun, playing for the Great Britain national handball team. They visited a number of places, but failed to go to Santiago de Compostela, the shrine of St. James, and perhaps the second most important mediaeval pilgrimage site after Rome itself. That omission seemed to sum up the way the western world has changed.
Walter Blotscher
Monday 24 May 2010
ICE HOCKEY (3)
The Czech Republic unexpectedly won the world championships last night, beating Russia 2-1 in the final. It helped that they scored after just 20 seconds. But they then placed a smothering defence on the Big Red Machine, who didn't score their only goal until 35 seconds to go.
The result was surprising in many ways. Starting with the 2007 bronze medal play-off, the Russians had won 27 world championship games in a row, including the 2008 and 2009 titles. This year they had again bulldozed all before them, avenging the Olympic Games loss to Canada in the quarter-finals and a stubborn Germany in the semi-finals. With an array of NHL stars, they were the hot favourites to win. But against a Czech team battling for everything and content to rest on their early lead, they seemed to run out of ideas.
The Czechs, on the other hand, had been on nobody's list of potential winners, and had only beaten Finland in the quarter-finals and Sweden in the semi-finals on penalties. Against Sweden, with 20 seconds left of normal time and the Czech goalie out in order to give an extra man, the Swedes missed the empty net. A last face-off in the Swedish zone, and the Czechs equalised with 7 seconds left on the clock to send it into extra time! After those nerve-racking experiences, it is perhaps understandable that they handled the pressure of the final better than their opponents.
This is all on ice hockey on this blog for 2010. I know that the NHL Stanley Cup play-offs are still going on, but they don't grip me in the same way. I watched a bit of the Philadelphia-Montreal semi-final play-offs after the world championships, but - and this is going to annoy my North American readers - it was a bit like watching a fourth division football match after you have just seen the Premier League. One reason is that NHL ice rinks are quite a bit narrower than international ones. That makes it more difficult to skate past defencemen, which in turn leads to a "hit and chase" type of ice hockey. Good for generating fights, but not for the purists.
Walter Blotscher
The Czech Republic unexpectedly won the world championships last night, beating Russia 2-1 in the final. It helped that they scored after just 20 seconds. But they then placed a smothering defence on the Big Red Machine, who didn't score their only goal until 35 seconds to go.
The result was surprising in many ways. Starting with the 2007 bronze medal play-off, the Russians had won 27 world championship games in a row, including the 2008 and 2009 titles. This year they had again bulldozed all before them, avenging the Olympic Games loss to Canada in the quarter-finals and a stubborn Germany in the semi-finals. With an array of NHL stars, they were the hot favourites to win. But against a Czech team battling for everything and content to rest on their early lead, they seemed to run out of ideas.
The Czechs, on the other hand, had been on nobody's list of potential winners, and had only beaten Finland in the quarter-finals and Sweden in the semi-finals on penalties. Against Sweden, with 20 seconds left of normal time and the Czech goalie out in order to give an extra man, the Swedes missed the empty net. A last face-off in the Swedish zone, and the Czechs equalised with 7 seconds left on the clock to send it into extra time! After those nerve-racking experiences, it is perhaps understandable that they handled the pressure of the final better than their opponents.
This is all on ice hockey on this blog for 2010. I know that the NHL Stanley Cup play-offs are still going on, but they don't grip me in the same way. I watched a bit of the Philadelphia-Montreal semi-final play-offs after the world championships, but - and this is going to annoy my North American readers - it was a bit like watching a fourth division football match after you have just seen the Premier League. One reason is that NHL ice rinks are quite a bit narrower than international ones. That makes it more difficult to skate past defencemen, which in turn leads to a "hit and chase" type of ice hockey. Good for generating fights, but not for the purists.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday 23 May 2010
SEA MIST
The Baltic Sea, shallow in many places, is really just a big lake. As such, the water temperature is still cold after this year's hard winter. On warm evenings, mist forms above the surface near the shore.
Yesterday was one such evening. After a sunny day, the wind had dropped completely, ideal for a late evening (8.30pm) cycle ride. An hour later, coming over the crest of the last hill on my way home, I was confronted by a blood red sun dropping over the horizon. While down to my left, its last rays were reflected off the sea mist in the bay behind our house.
It was beautiful.
Walter Blotscher
The Baltic Sea, shallow in many places, is really just a big lake. As such, the water temperature is still cold after this year's hard winter. On warm evenings, mist forms above the surface near the shore.
Yesterday was one such evening. After a sunny day, the wind had dropped completely, ideal for a late evening (8.30pm) cycle ride. An hour later, coming over the crest of the last hill on my way home, I was confronted by a blood red sun dropping over the horizon. While down to my left, its last rays were reflected off the sea mist in the bay behind our house.
It was beautiful.
Walter Blotscher
Saturday 22 May 2010
CRUMBLE AND CREAM
Can you eat crumble with whipped cream? Well, of course you can, the question is more whether you should. Definitely not, in my view.
For those who don't know, a crumble is an English pudding. On top of a fruit base is a mix of fat, flour and sugar, mixed into a "crumbly" mixture; the whole thing is then baked in an oven. What makes it tasty is the contrast between the sweet topping and the tart fruit. So rhubarb is good, or cooking apples, or - my favourite - blackberries and apple mixed together. Next to the hot crumble you have custard, cold cream or ice cream. Or, if you are a bit piggy, a combination of them. When I go on my annual Lake District walking tour (more on that another time), we stay at a pub that allows you to have all three at once. That's very piggy; but a man is allowed to be piggy once a year with his mates, in my view.
But not whipped cream, that is simply too fluffy. You want a solid dairy product to match the slightly "school dinner" solidity of the crumble. My wife is Danish and so can be forgiven for getting it wrong, when she suggested the menu for dinner last night. But I soon put her right, when I made a rhubarb crumble with vanilla ice cream for her and her sisters.
There is only one thing better than hot crumble, and that is cold crumble leftovers. I hope you can hear me slurping, since it is what I am having, together with a cup of coffee, as I write this and watch the Sweden/Czech Republic ice-hockey semi-final at the same time. Mmm.
Walter Blotscher
Can you eat crumble with whipped cream? Well, of course you can, the question is more whether you should. Definitely not, in my view.
For those who don't know, a crumble is an English pudding. On top of a fruit base is a mix of fat, flour and sugar, mixed into a "crumbly" mixture; the whole thing is then baked in an oven. What makes it tasty is the contrast between the sweet topping and the tart fruit. So rhubarb is good, or cooking apples, or - my favourite - blackberries and apple mixed together. Next to the hot crumble you have custard, cold cream or ice cream. Or, if you are a bit piggy, a combination of them. When I go on my annual Lake District walking tour (more on that another time), we stay at a pub that allows you to have all three at once. That's very piggy; but a man is allowed to be piggy once a year with his mates, in my view.
But not whipped cream, that is simply too fluffy. You want a solid dairy product to match the slightly "school dinner" solidity of the crumble. My wife is Danish and so can be forgiven for getting it wrong, when she suggested the menu for dinner last night. But I soon put her right, when I made a rhubarb crumble with vanilla ice cream for her and her sisters.
There is only one thing better than hot crumble, and that is cold crumble leftovers. I hope you can hear me slurping, since it is what I am having, together with a cup of coffee, as I write this and watch the Sweden/Czech Republic ice-hockey semi-final at the same time. Mmm.
Walter Blotscher
Friday 21 May 2010
WHAT BANGED?
I had an interesting conversation with my daughter the other day. We were talking about religion and got onto the subject of the Big Bang.
I understand the idea behind the Big Bang, since I am a mathematician by training and my special subject at university was relativity. We can prove that the universe is expanding; so if we wind the clock back, it must at one point have been very small. Infinitessimally small, to use the jargon. Furthermore, since the universe is now very large, the bang that made it thus must have been pretty big. So, Big Bang is not an unreasonable description.
But, but, but. Although I could once (though no longer) "do the math", I have always had a somewhat more philosophical problem. Namely, what exactly was it that banged? I must admit that I have no idea.
Have you? Please post your answers below. The ten best ideas will go into the Walter Blotscher Big Bang prize draw. The winner will get a custom-made Hadron collider, which I promise to build in their garden, once the Smug Builder project is finished. Now there's an incentive.
Walter Blotscher
I had an interesting conversation with my daughter the other day. We were talking about religion and got onto the subject of the Big Bang.
I understand the idea behind the Big Bang, since I am a mathematician by training and my special subject at university was relativity. We can prove that the universe is expanding; so if we wind the clock back, it must at one point have been very small. Infinitessimally small, to use the jargon. Furthermore, since the universe is now very large, the bang that made it thus must have been pretty big. So, Big Bang is not an unreasonable description.
But, but, but. Although I could once (though no longer) "do the math", I have always had a somewhat more philosophical problem. Namely, what exactly was it that banged? I must admit that I have no idea.
Have you? Please post your answers below. The ten best ideas will go into the Walter Blotscher Big Bang prize draw. The winner will get a custom-made Hadron collider, which I promise to build in their garden, once the Smug Builder project is finished. Now there's an incentive.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday 20 May 2010
GIRO D'ITALIA
This year's Giro is turning out to be the most interesting Grand Tour stage race in years.
It started 10 days ago in Holland. Strong winds and narrow roads produced an array of crashes, which appeared to scupper the chances of Britain's Olympic pursuit champion Bradley Wiggins, who had won the opening time trial in Amsterdam. When the race moved to Italy, torrential rain turned the gravel roads south of Siena on stage 7 into a mudbath. A crash and the heavy conditions made life difficult for former Tour de France winner and pre-race favourite Carlos Sastre, who lost a lot of time. After a mountain-top finish the following day, where his bruises were still troubling him, the little Spaniard found himself 10 minutes adrift and seemingly out of the overall picture.
Until yesterday. On the Giro's longest stage for a decade, 262km to the earthquake hit town of L'Aquila, held in pouring rain, a group of riders got away after 20km. Normally the favourites' teams would have kept the group in check or chased it down. But the group had more than 50 riders in it, including both Sastre and Wiggins, and they covered the first hour at an incredible average speed of 56kmh! With some steep hills en route, it was not surprising that the breakaway group finished with more riders than the favourites' group, who eventually rolled in more than twelve and a half minutes adrift. Sastre and Wiggins had made up all of the lost time of the first week, and then some.
Starting on Sunday with the mountain-top finish on the Zoncolan, perhaps the toughest climb in Europe (10km at an average 11.5%), the last week in the Dolomites is widely regarded as one of the most difficult ever. That should suit Sastre, who is notorious for being strong in the last week of Grand Tours, and who is a natural climber. Furthermore, he is in the unusual position of starting the real climbing 3-6 minutes ahead of his rivals (Vinokourov, Evans, Basso, Nibali, Cunego and Scarponi) instead of having to attack from behind. If he has recovered from his earlier crashes and has any sort of form, then the Giro is his for the taking. True, he is still only in eighth place, seven minutes down on the surprising leader, rookie Australian Richie Porte; and he still has Wiggins lurking only a minute behind him. But I suspect that the men in front of him will wilt, once the roads start going seriously uphill; and Wiggins, although strong, is not as good a climber. Sastre is my tip.
Yesterday's rather freakish stage reconfirmed two things about cycling. First, it is one of the ultimate team sports; a team can't help you when you are alone on the way up to the summit, but you can't win a 3-week stage race without a good team. Secondly, a bike race is never over until it's over. A crash, a tactical mistake (like yesterday), a puncture, all things can happen. I was musing on this late yesterday afternoon as I went for a cycle ride on the first truly warm day of the year. The Giro riders did 262km in 8 degrees and pouring rain; I did about 30km in a dry and pleasant 20 degrees. But boy, was I strong, taking the final Soebo Loekker climb before the run down to my house in sixth gear on the little ring instead of the usual fifth. Perhaps I could give Sastre a run for his money?
Walter Blotscher
This year's Giro is turning out to be the most interesting Grand Tour stage race in years.
It started 10 days ago in Holland. Strong winds and narrow roads produced an array of crashes, which appeared to scupper the chances of Britain's Olympic pursuit champion Bradley Wiggins, who had won the opening time trial in Amsterdam. When the race moved to Italy, torrential rain turned the gravel roads south of Siena on stage 7 into a mudbath. A crash and the heavy conditions made life difficult for former Tour de France winner and pre-race favourite Carlos Sastre, who lost a lot of time. After a mountain-top finish the following day, where his bruises were still troubling him, the little Spaniard found himself 10 minutes adrift and seemingly out of the overall picture.
Until yesterday. On the Giro's longest stage for a decade, 262km to the earthquake hit town of L'Aquila, held in pouring rain, a group of riders got away after 20km. Normally the favourites' teams would have kept the group in check or chased it down. But the group had more than 50 riders in it, including both Sastre and Wiggins, and they covered the first hour at an incredible average speed of 56kmh! With some steep hills en route, it was not surprising that the breakaway group finished with more riders than the favourites' group, who eventually rolled in more than twelve and a half minutes adrift. Sastre and Wiggins had made up all of the lost time of the first week, and then some.
Starting on Sunday with the mountain-top finish on the Zoncolan, perhaps the toughest climb in Europe (10km at an average 11.5%), the last week in the Dolomites is widely regarded as one of the most difficult ever. That should suit Sastre, who is notorious for being strong in the last week of Grand Tours, and who is a natural climber. Furthermore, he is in the unusual position of starting the real climbing 3-6 minutes ahead of his rivals (Vinokourov, Evans, Basso, Nibali, Cunego and Scarponi) instead of having to attack from behind. If he has recovered from his earlier crashes and has any sort of form, then the Giro is his for the taking. True, he is still only in eighth place, seven minutes down on the surprising leader, rookie Australian Richie Porte; and he still has Wiggins lurking only a minute behind him. But I suspect that the men in front of him will wilt, once the roads start going seriously uphill; and Wiggins, although strong, is not as good a climber. Sastre is my tip.
Yesterday's rather freakish stage reconfirmed two things about cycling. First, it is one of the ultimate team sports; a team can't help you when you are alone on the way up to the summit, but you can't win a 3-week stage race without a good team. Secondly, a bike race is never over until it's over. A crash, a tactical mistake (like yesterday), a puncture, all things can happen. I was musing on this late yesterday afternoon as I went for a cycle ride on the first truly warm day of the year. The Giro riders did 262km in 8 degrees and pouring rain; I did about 30km in a dry and pleasant 20 degrees. But boy, was I strong, taking the final Soebo Loekker climb before the run down to my house in sixth gear on the little ring instead of the usual fifth. Perhaps I could give Sastre a run for his money?
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday 19 May 2010
THE DOWNSIDE OF LONG HAIR
I cleaned out the U-bend of the sink in our bathroom today. A tricky, rather than difficult, job (you have to unscrew it both vertically and horizontally to get it out).
But also a rather unpleasant one. It's amazing how much oil and grease gets stuck down there; shaving foam, soap, face oil, things I don't want to know about. No wonder B.P. is having so much trouble plugging that leak in the Gulf.
But the oily gunk still needs something to attach itself to, and that something is, it seems, long strands of hair. Long hair? Mm, methinks it is time I had a chat with the female side of the family.
Walter Blotscher
I cleaned out the U-bend of the sink in our bathroom today. A tricky, rather than difficult, job (you have to unscrew it both vertically and horizontally to get it out).
But also a rather unpleasant one. It's amazing how much oil and grease gets stuck down there; shaving foam, soap, face oil, things I don't want to know about. No wonder B.P. is having so much trouble plugging that leak in the Gulf.
But the oily gunk still needs something to attach itself to, and that something is, it seems, long strands of hair. Long hair? Mm, methinks it is time I had a chat with the female side of the family.
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday 18 May 2010
SCHOOL CHOICE AND SOLIDARITY
Brits are used to political discussions about the merits (or not) of public (i.e. privately financed and run) schools. Danes are not.
The key concept in Danish "folkeskoler" (state schools) is faelleskab, which means community. Amongst other things, this is reflected in the fact that children stay in the same class, with the same class teacher, from the ages of 7 to about 13. The idea is to build up strong social bonds in these years.
Not everybody goes to a folkeskole. There are also "friskoler", which are not free in monetary terms, but fee-paying (though heavily subsidised by the state) private schools. Many of these have recently sprung up in rural areas, as parents react to the closure of small state schools following the sharp reduction in the number of local authorities a couple of years ago. This is a reinforced version of faelleskab, at the village level. But friskoler have also been set up in big cities. There it is more a feeling that state schools provide a lower quality education, in delapidated buildings, and with "too many" immigrant children, who don't speak Danish properly.
The latest row concerns Mette Frederiksen, the young, telegenic rising star of the opposition Social Democrats. Five years ago she sharply criticised parents for taking their children out of state schools and putting them into a private school; they had a personal responsibility to back the communal provision of education. Now she has herself done just that, putting her own child into a private school in the Copenhagen suburbs. Cries of hypocrisy have rained down upon her.
I have never thought that politicians should be pure as the driven snow when it comes to education. After all, it is the politician's beliefs, yet the education of the child; as a parent, the politican has a duty to do their best for the latter, whatever they may think of the system. Moreover, in this particular case there are at least three people involved in the decision; Ms Frederiksen, her daughter and the child's father. It is quite possible that she was outvoted.
Nevertheless, the resulting row is significant. The concept of faelleskab is the glue that has bound Danish society together for a century or more, and not just in schools. But it is breaking down; Ms. Frederiksen's change of heart is merely the latest example. Talented and successful Danes no longer stay at home and pay (very) high taxes, but move to London (Janus Friis) or Monaco (Caroline Wozniacki). And the popularity of "efterskoler", 1-year boarding schools that children choose at the age of 15 or 16, shows a desire for change. My wife, who teaches at one, says that many young people arrive wishing to throw off the communal labels they have acquired over long years and to reinvent themselves as something else. Individualism is all the rage.
As I said in my blog last week about Freakonomics, resolution of the current economic crisis will put strains on countries' societies. It is pertinent that - at least in Denmark - at just the moment society needs more solidarity, it appears to be moving in the opposite direction.
Walter Blotscher
Brits are used to political discussions about the merits (or not) of public (i.e. privately financed and run) schools. Danes are not.
The key concept in Danish "folkeskoler" (state schools) is faelleskab, which means community. Amongst other things, this is reflected in the fact that children stay in the same class, with the same class teacher, from the ages of 7 to about 13. The idea is to build up strong social bonds in these years.
Not everybody goes to a folkeskole. There are also "friskoler", which are not free in monetary terms, but fee-paying (though heavily subsidised by the state) private schools. Many of these have recently sprung up in rural areas, as parents react to the closure of small state schools following the sharp reduction in the number of local authorities a couple of years ago. This is a reinforced version of faelleskab, at the village level. But friskoler have also been set up in big cities. There it is more a feeling that state schools provide a lower quality education, in delapidated buildings, and with "too many" immigrant children, who don't speak Danish properly.
The latest row concerns Mette Frederiksen, the young, telegenic rising star of the opposition Social Democrats. Five years ago she sharply criticised parents for taking their children out of state schools and putting them into a private school; they had a personal responsibility to back the communal provision of education. Now she has herself done just that, putting her own child into a private school in the Copenhagen suburbs. Cries of hypocrisy have rained down upon her.
I have never thought that politicians should be pure as the driven snow when it comes to education. After all, it is the politician's beliefs, yet the education of the child; as a parent, the politican has a duty to do their best for the latter, whatever they may think of the system. Moreover, in this particular case there are at least three people involved in the decision; Ms Frederiksen, her daughter and the child's father. It is quite possible that she was outvoted.
Nevertheless, the resulting row is significant. The concept of faelleskab is the glue that has bound Danish society together for a century or more, and not just in schools. But it is breaking down; Ms. Frederiksen's change of heart is merely the latest example. Talented and successful Danes no longer stay at home and pay (very) high taxes, but move to London (Janus Friis) or Monaco (Caroline Wozniacki). And the popularity of "efterskoler", 1-year boarding schools that children choose at the age of 15 or 16, shows a desire for change. My wife, who teaches at one, says that many young people arrive wishing to throw off the communal labels they have acquired over long years and to reinvent themselves as something else. Individualism is all the rage.
As I said in my blog last week about Freakonomics, resolution of the current economic crisis will put strains on countries' societies. It is pertinent that - at least in Denmark - at just the moment society needs more solidarity, it appears to be moving in the opposite direction.
Walter Blotscher
Monday 17 May 2010
20/20 CRICKET
The world 20/20 cricket championship has just finished in the Caribbean. England comfortably beat Australia in the final to win their first world title (at either 20/20 or the 50 over game), since limited overs cricket was introduced during the mid-1970's.
The 20/20 form of the game is undoubtedly exciting, with lots of fours and especially sixes. Cricket purists think it is a sort of agricultural slugfest, not much better than pub cricket on the village green. Yet it is worth remembering that those batsmen who did best in the tournament - Jayawardene, Gayle, Pietersen, Mike Hussey - are all established test cricketers with high batting averages. They just put a bit more oomph into it when time is in short supply. What really seems to have made the difference was tight bowling and excellent fielding, which are also required in test matches.
The crowds seem to have enjoyed themselves (though they would probably have been a good deal larger if the West Indies had made the semi-finals). And the tournament marked the debut on the international stage of Afghanistan. They lost both their two group matches and so went home early, but the miracle was that they were there at all.
Walter Blotscher
The world 20/20 cricket championship has just finished in the Caribbean. England comfortably beat Australia in the final to win their first world title (at either 20/20 or the 50 over game), since limited overs cricket was introduced during the mid-1970's.
The 20/20 form of the game is undoubtedly exciting, with lots of fours and especially sixes. Cricket purists think it is a sort of agricultural slugfest, not much better than pub cricket on the village green. Yet it is worth remembering that those batsmen who did best in the tournament - Jayawardene, Gayle, Pietersen, Mike Hussey - are all established test cricketers with high batting averages. They just put a bit more oomph into it when time is in short supply. What really seems to have made the difference was tight bowling and excellent fielding, which are also required in test matches.
The crowds seem to have enjoyed themselves (though they would probably have been a good deal larger if the West Indies had made the semi-finals). And the tournament marked the debut on the international stage of Afghanistan. They lost both their two group matches and so went home early, but the miracle was that they were there at all.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday 16 May 2010
Saturday 15 May 2010
FREAKONOMICS (AND MUSINGS THEREON)
I have just read Freakonomics, by Stephen Levitt and Stephen Dubner. Levitt is a very talented economist, who has won the John Bates Clark medal, often a step on the way to a Nobel prize, and who is interested in quirky aspects of life such as cheating, guns, and crime. Dubner is the New York Times journalist, who first brought Levitt to the attention of the general public.
Their collaboration, which I found both interesting and thought-provoking, is founded on four basic premises. First, incentives matter. People react to incentives, both monetary and non-monetary; and if you want to change behaviour, then you have to change the incentive structure. Secondly, there is no substitute for hard facts. Facts may be uncomfortable for people with axes to grind or interests to defend, but so be it. Thirdly, many economic situations involve an aysmmetry of information, where one party knows more than the other (or, at the least, the other party thinks that they do). This asymmetry means that there may not be optimal outcomes. And fourthly, whatever economics may say about the efficient use of resources, it says - and can say - nothing about the morality of that result. Slavery may be abhorrent, but it may quite possibly also be economically efficient.
To take but one example from the book. Crime rates fell sharply in all American cities during the 1990's. The received wisdom was that this was due to better policing, particularly in New York City, with its "no broken window" policy (i.e. show intolerance for small crimes, and this sends a strong message to criminals that they won't get away with big ones). Levitt showed that this was, in fact, rubbish. The drop was due to a combination of more police, tougher jail sentences, and the January 1973 Supreme Court decision Roe v. Wade, which legalised abortion in the U.S. The two biggest indicators of future criminality are being poor and/or the child of a single mother. Poor, single mothers were the women most likely to take advantage of Roe v. Wade, so giving them an alternative to an unwanted child reduced the number of unwanted children in situations highly likely to give rise to criminality. That duly reflected itself in the crime statistics 18+ years later.
A controversial finding. But it says nothing about Levitt's views on the morality of abortion.
This potential conflict between economic efficiency and morality has already started, and will - I believe - increase as the world works its way out of the current economic mess. Economic efficiency requires strong banks, which have duly been saved the world over by a combination of nationalisation, implicit or explicit state guarantees and vast dollops of liquidity at near-zero interest rates. Yet near-zero interest rates all but guarantee the banks fat profits, which in turn allow them to pay hefty bonusses to the very people who made the bad decisions that started the rot. This causes outrage, and not just to people who find themselves laid off or turfed out of their homes.
In most countries, the economic way forward is, or soon will be, clear. The great challenge for politicians and other leaders will be to deal with the moral and social conflicts that will inevitably occur as the pain is shared out in some way. Employed v unemployed, workers v. pensioners, taxpayers v. consumers, healthy people v. unhealthy people, rich v. poor, nationals v. immigrants. The fault lines will be many and difficult.
The last time the world faced a similar situation was in the 1930's. The social outcomes that resulted then in some countries were appalling. Let's hope that we have learned our lessons well.
Walter Blotscher
I have just read Freakonomics, by Stephen Levitt and Stephen Dubner. Levitt is a very talented economist, who has won the John Bates Clark medal, often a step on the way to a Nobel prize, and who is interested in quirky aspects of life such as cheating, guns, and crime. Dubner is the New York Times journalist, who first brought Levitt to the attention of the general public.
Their collaboration, which I found both interesting and thought-provoking, is founded on four basic premises. First, incentives matter. People react to incentives, both monetary and non-monetary; and if you want to change behaviour, then you have to change the incentive structure. Secondly, there is no substitute for hard facts. Facts may be uncomfortable for people with axes to grind or interests to defend, but so be it. Thirdly, many economic situations involve an aysmmetry of information, where one party knows more than the other (or, at the least, the other party thinks that they do). This asymmetry means that there may not be optimal outcomes. And fourthly, whatever economics may say about the efficient use of resources, it says - and can say - nothing about the morality of that result. Slavery may be abhorrent, but it may quite possibly also be economically efficient.
To take but one example from the book. Crime rates fell sharply in all American cities during the 1990's. The received wisdom was that this was due to better policing, particularly in New York City, with its "no broken window" policy (i.e. show intolerance for small crimes, and this sends a strong message to criminals that they won't get away with big ones). Levitt showed that this was, in fact, rubbish. The drop was due to a combination of more police, tougher jail sentences, and the January 1973 Supreme Court decision Roe v. Wade, which legalised abortion in the U.S. The two biggest indicators of future criminality are being poor and/or the child of a single mother. Poor, single mothers were the women most likely to take advantage of Roe v. Wade, so giving them an alternative to an unwanted child reduced the number of unwanted children in situations highly likely to give rise to criminality. That duly reflected itself in the crime statistics 18+ years later.
A controversial finding. But it says nothing about Levitt's views on the morality of abortion.
This potential conflict between economic efficiency and morality has already started, and will - I believe - increase as the world works its way out of the current economic mess. Economic efficiency requires strong banks, which have duly been saved the world over by a combination of nationalisation, implicit or explicit state guarantees and vast dollops of liquidity at near-zero interest rates. Yet near-zero interest rates all but guarantee the banks fat profits, which in turn allow them to pay hefty bonusses to the very people who made the bad decisions that started the rot. This causes outrage, and not just to people who find themselves laid off or turfed out of their homes.
In most countries, the economic way forward is, or soon will be, clear. The great challenge for politicians and other leaders will be to deal with the moral and social conflicts that will inevitably occur as the pain is shared out in some way. Employed v unemployed, workers v. pensioners, taxpayers v. consumers, healthy people v. unhealthy people, rich v. poor, nationals v. immigrants. The fault lines will be many and difficult.
The last time the world faced a similar situation was in the 1930's. The social outcomes that resulted then in some countries were appalling. Let's hope that we have learned our lessons well.
Walter Blotscher
Friday 14 May 2010
SHOWERS
I love a good shower. Whatever the season or temperature, it must be very hot and very strong. I hate those piddly things you have to hold above your head, where the water sort of dribbles out. The ultimate shower is one where the water drums on your scalp.
One of the best decisions I have ever made in my life was to buy a big showerhead back in 2002 for our new bathroom. It is about the size of my head. And with the hot water tank almost directly above me in the loft, the water just dumps on top of me. It is wonderful.
As you can guess from this blog, I have just had a - very hot and very strong - shower. And very nice it was too.
Walter Blotscher
I love a good shower. Whatever the season or temperature, it must be very hot and very strong. I hate those piddly things you have to hold above your head, where the water sort of dribbles out. The ultimate shower is one where the water drums on your scalp.
One of the best decisions I have ever made in my life was to buy a big showerhead back in 2002 for our new bathroom. It is about the size of my head. And with the hot water tank almost directly above me in the loft, the water just dumps on top of me. It is wonderful.
As you can guess from this blog, I have just had a - very hot and very strong - shower. And very nice it was too.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday 13 May 2010
IGNORANCE
Some things I know a lot about. Like, for instance, the number of current test cricketers with a batting average of more than 50. Answer; surprisingly few and none of them English (in descending order, Tendulkar, Ponting, Sangakkara, Gambhir, Kallis, Jayawardene, Dravid, Sehwag, Yousuf, Hussey, Clarke, Samaraweera and Younis Khan, and some of them may never play test cricket again). Yet there are also lots of other things where I am completely ignorant. Not "oh, I am sure you're exaggerating, you must know a little bit" ignorant, but "crikey, don't you know that?, everybody knows that" ignorant. Niks, nada, zilch.
Two examples suffice. The first is flowers. They are things you see every day, and they are very nice to look at; but despite living in the country, I only know the names of about half a dozen flowers. Rose, tulip, daffodil, daisy, buttercup. That's about it; plus dandelion (but that's a weed, really). And even if I got a flower I knew the name of, I wouldn't know what to do with it in order to keep it alive. I am very good at pulling things out of the ground, but making them grow and flourish is another matter entirely.
Is this the sort of knowledge you learn from your mother, in the same way as you learn fishing from your father? My wife and her sisters know all about these sorts of things, and so does their mother. And so does my own mother. Would I have learned it by her side, if I hadn't gone away to boarding school aged 7? I sometimes think so. We had a Scottish matron at my prep school, but I can't remember her teaching me anything about plants. Indeed, my one abiding memory is of her making us eat porridge with salt (yuk!).
The other example is poetry. I studied English literature up to 'O' level, and I am an avid reader, of both fiction and non-fiction. Yet I can honestly say that I can count the number of poems I have read in my life on the fingers of one hand. Indeed, I have probably read more poems in French, since we had to do literary criticism for French 'A' level. I can quote bits of poems, but that is more from having done crosswords for 30 years. A whole world which has given so many people inspiration, joy and solace has been closed to me.
Is this also something you learn from your parents? I have a good friend who has always read poetry, and continues to do so today. He is an only child of bookish parents, perhaps he acquired the taste early in life? For whatever reason, I didn't. At boarding school, I read lots of history, and played lots of sport, passions that remain with me. I learned lots of petty rules, and endured lots of petty punishments. Cleaning 40 pairs of leather shoes, for instance. Aah, cleaning shoes; now that is something I do know a lot about.
Walter Blotscher
Some things I know a lot about. Like, for instance, the number of current test cricketers with a batting average of more than 50. Answer; surprisingly few and none of them English (in descending order, Tendulkar, Ponting, Sangakkara, Gambhir, Kallis, Jayawardene, Dravid, Sehwag, Yousuf, Hussey, Clarke, Samaraweera and Younis Khan, and some of them may never play test cricket again). Yet there are also lots of other things where I am completely ignorant. Not "oh, I am sure you're exaggerating, you must know a little bit" ignorant, but "crikey, don't you know that?, everybody knows that" ignorant. Niks, nada, zilch.
Two examples suffice. The first is flowers. They are things you see every day, and they are very nice to look at; but despite living in the country, I only know the names of about half a dozen flowers. Rose, tulip, daffodil, daisy, buttercup. That's about it; plus dandelion (but that's a weed, really). And even if I got a flower I knew the name of, I wouldn't know what to do with it in order to keep it alive. I am very good at pulling things out of the ground, but making them grow and flourish is another matter entirely.
Is this the sort of knowledge you learn from your mother, in the same way as you learn fishing from your father? My wife and her sisters know all about these sorts of things, and so does their mother. And so does my own mother. Would I have learned it by her side, if I hadn't gone away to boarding school aged 7? I sometimes think so. We had a Scottish matron at my prep school, but I can't remember her teaching me anything about plants. Indeed, my one abiding memory is of her making us eat porridge with salt (yuk!).
The other example is poetry. I studied English literature up to 'O' level, and I am an avid reader, of both fiction and non-fiction. Yet I can honestly say that I can count the number of poems I have read in my life on the fingers of one hand. Indeed, I have probably read more poems in French, since we had to do literary criticism for French 'A' level. I can quote bits of poems, but that is more from having done crosswords for 30 years. A whole world which has given so many people inspiration, joy and solace has been closed to me.
Is this also something you learn from your parents? I have a good friend who has always read poetry, and continues to do so today. He is an only child of bookish parents, perhaps he acquired the taste early in life? For whatever reason, I didn't. At boarding school, I read lots of history, and played lots of sport, passions that remain with me. I learned lots of petty rules, and endured lots of petty punishments. Cleaning 40 pairs of leather shoes, for instance. Aah, cleaning shoes; now that is something I do know a lot about.
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday 12 May 2010
THE U.K. GENERAL ELECTION (2)
Three last thoughts on last week's general election, which has now brought about the first formal coalition in the U.K. since the national unity Government during the second world war, and the youngest Prime Minister since Lord Liverpool at the beginning of the 19th century.
First, nothing became Gordon Brown more than his departure speech, which was dignified and personal, the latter something he very rarely manages to achieve.
Secondly, rather lost in all of the constitutional speculations of the past week is the recollection that Gordon Brown never had an electoral mandate. I always thought that his premiership would be shortlived, and I put the beginning of the end down to his decision not to go to the country and get one in the autumn of 2007, shortly after he had become leader of the Labour Party (and thereby automatic Prime Minister). It was always going to be uphill after that. Whatever the precise details of his deal with Tony Blair (and we shall never really know them), whereby one would replace the other in Number 10 after a specified period of time, the office is not like any normal job. However talented, you can't just "shotgun" it, as my children would say. Not least because 45m outsiders, namely the electorate, also have an interest in it.
Thirdly, there is the wonderful comment from former Labour Minister Kim Howells, that the Liberal Democrats are "opportunistic toerags". Well, yes they are. But who can blame them? Being a Liberal MP or leader has been a soul-destroying exercise for at least the last 40 years. Against that background, if you get a chance, then you should take it. They still have to make it work, of course, which is a different matter entirely, Government always is. However, it would appear that to date, Nick Clegg has played his weakish hand to perfection.
Walter Blotscher
Three last thoughts on last week's general election, which has now brought about the first formal coalition in the U.K. since the national unity Government during the second world war, and the youngest Prime Minister since Lord Liverpool at the beginning of the 19th century.
First, nothing became Gordon Brown more than his departure speech, which was dignified and personal, the latter something he very rarely manages to achieve.
Secondly, rather lost in all of the constitutional speculations of the past week is the recollection that Gordon Brown never had an electoral mandate. I always thought that his premiership would be shortlived, and I put the beginning of the end down to his decision not to go to the country and get one in the autumn of 2007, shortly after he had become leader of the Labour Party (and thereby automatic Prime Minister). It was always going to be uphill after that. Whatever the precise details of his deal with Tony Blair (and we shall never really know them), whereby one would replace the other in Number 10 after a specified period of time, the office is not like any normal job. However talented, you can't just "shotgun" it, as my children would say. Not least because 45m outsiders, namely the electorate, also have an interest in it.
Thirdly, there is the wonderful comment from former Labour Minister Kim Howells, that the Liberal Democrats are "opportunistic toerags". Well, yes they are. But who can blame them? Being a Liberal MP or leader has been a soul-destroying exercise for at least the last 40 years. Against that background, if you get a chance, then you should take it. They still have to make it work, of course, which is a different matter entirely, Government always is. However, it would appear that to date, Nick Clegg has played his weakish hand to perfection.
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday 11 May 2010
ICE HOCKEY (2)
Unbelievable! Yesterday Denmark beat the U.S. 2-1 in overtime, thereby qualifying for the latter stages of a world championship for the very first time. The Danes were up against an all-NHL team, but played out of their skins, and deservedly earned a draw in normal time. In sudden death overtime, it could have gone either way; but they held their nerve and scored to win a famous victory.
It also means that if the U.S. don't win against Finland tomorrow, then they could be out. That really would be a surprise.
Walter Blotscher
Unbelievable! Yesterday Denmark beat the U.S. 2-1 in overtime, thereby qualifying for the latter stages of a world championship for the very first time. The Danes were up against an all-NHL team, but played out of their skins, and deservedly earned a draw in normal time. In sudden death overtime, it could have gone either way; but they held their nerve and scored to win a famous victory.
It also means that if the U.S. don't win against Finland tomorrow, then they could be out. That really would be a surprise.
Walter Blotscher
Monday 10 May 2010
UMARU YAR'ADUA
The death last week after a long illness of Nigeria's President Umaru Yar'Adua leaves the country in a state of flux. Not because of his absence; Mr Yar'Adua had been seriously ill, even before he assumed office in 2007, and has not been at the helm since leaving Nigeria last year for medical treatment abroad. But because it dishes the "buggins' turn" system of presidents.
Nigeria is roughly evenly divided between a Muslim north and a Christian south. Tensions between the communities can, and have, run high, as the recent unrest in the central state of Jos has shown. The tacit agreement within the ruling People's Democratic Party is that Muslim and Christian presidents alternate after every two four-year terms. After the Christian President Obasanjo had served two terms, the Muslim Mr Yar'Adua was halfway through his first term. That cosy arrangement has now been abruptly brought to an end, since his deputy Goodluck Jonathan is a southern Christian. Mr Jonathan had already become acting President in February, and has now been sworn in as President. He will undoubtedly pick a Muslim northerner as his deputy, who would have aspirations to become the PDP's candidate in next year's election. But what if Mr Jonathan decides to run himself?
Nigeria matters. It is Africa's most populous country, and a regional and continental heavyweight. It also has huge oil reserves, important for the West. But it has also been spectacularly misgoverned for virtually all of its post-Independence life; even within Africa, it is a byword for corruption. Buggins' turn is not a particularly grown-up way of dealing with the country's many problems; it would be much better, should Mr Jonathan decide to run, if the electorate had the opportunity to back him or sack him. However, that underestimates the power and strength of feeling in the north that it should be their turn. In former days, that power often manifested itself in a coup d'état. Coups are out of fashion these days, even in Africa, and it is to be hoped that Nigeria will be able to sort itself out without having to have another one. There is much at stake.
Walter Blotscher
The death last week after a long illness of Nigeria's President Umaru Yar'Adua leaves the country in a state of flux. Not because of his absence; Mr Yar'Adua had been seriously ill, even before he assumed office in 2007, and has not been at the helm since leaving Nigeria last year for medical treatment abroad. But because it dishes the "buggins' turn" system of presidents.
Nigeria is roughly evenly divided between a Muslim north and a Christian south. Tensions between the communities can, and have, run high, as the recent unrest in the central state of Jos has shown. The tacit agreement within the ruling People's Democratic Party is that Muslim and Christian presidents alternate after every two four-year terms. After the Christian President Obasanjo had served two terms, the Muslim Mr Yar'Adua was halfway through his first term. That cosy arrangement has now been abruptly brought to an end, since his deputy Goodluck Jonathan is a southern Christian. Mr Jonathan had already become acting President in February, and has now been sworn in as President. He will undoubtedly pick a Muslim northerner as his deputy, who would have aspirations to become the PDP's candidate in next year's election. But what if Mr Jonathan decides to run himself?
Nigeria matters. It is Africa's most populous country, and a regional and continental heavyweight. It also has huge oil reserves, important for the West. But it has also been spectacularly misgoverned for virtually all of its post-Independence life; even within Africa, it is a byword for corruption. Buggins' turn is not a particularly grown-up way of dealing with the country's many problems; it would be much better, should Mr Jonathan decide to run, if the electorate had the opportunity to back him or sack him. However, that underestimates the power and strength of feeling in the north that it should be their turn. In former days, that power often manifested itself in a coup d'état. Coups are out of fashion these days, even in Africa, and it is to be hoped that Nigeria will be able to sort itself out without having to have another one. There is much at stake.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday 9 May 2010
VOLCANOES AND ECONOMICS (2)
"I'm back". No, not Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 5, but the Eyjafjallajokull volcano in Iceland, which has started up again. The main difference from what happened in April is that the resulting ash cloud has been blown to different parts of the globe. Instead of sweeping across Scotland to Scandinavia and on down through Germany to Eastern Europe, it has taken a more westerly route, and then ended up in Spain, Southern France and Northern Italy. 19 Spanish airports were shut yesterday, along with Nice, Pisa and Florence. And transatlantic flights are having to take long detours to avoid the cloud sitting over the Atlantic.
Along with the above, six airports in Northern Scotland have also been closed. What must be worrying for the U.K. Government, long a supporter of air travel (and, in particular, of Heathrow's position as the world's leading international airport and key transatlantic hub) is the fact that Scotland has been hit both times. Sitting as it does south east of Iceland, Scotland is both on the direct route and the indirect (south followed by east) route. When Eyjafjallajokull erupted in December 1821, the eruptions continued, off and on, for more than a year. It is possible that this one could run for longer than the Terminator franchise. Then there really would be a need for Arnie ...
Walter Blotscher
"I'm back". No, not Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 5, but the Eyjafjallajokull volcano in Iceland, which has started up again. The main difference from what happened in April is that the resulting ash cloud has been blown to different parts of the globe. Instead of sweeping across Scotland to Scandinavia and on down through Germany to Eastern Europe, it has taken a more westerly route, and then ended up in Spain, Southern France and Northern Italy. 19 Spanish airports were shut yesterday, along with Nice, Pisa and Florence. And transatlantic flights are having to take long detours to avoid the cloud sitting over the Atlantic.
Along with the above, six airports in Northern Scotland have also been closed. What must be worrying for the U.K. Government, long a supporter of air travel (and, in particular, of Heathrow's position as the world's leading international airport and key transatlantic hub) is the fact that Scotland has been hit both times. Sitting as it does south east of Iceland, Scotland is both on the direct route and the indirect (south followed by east) route. When Eyjafjallajokull erupted in December 1821, the eruptions continued, off and on, for more than a year. It is possible that this one could run for longer than the Terminator franchise. Then there really would be a need for Arnie ...
Walter Blotscher
Saturday 8 May 2010
ICE HOCKEY
The ice hockey world championships have just started in Germany. Because of the ongoing NHL play-offs, some of the world's best players will not be there. But the tournament has already produced some surprises.
Last night's opening game between Germany and the U.S. was played in a special rink constructed in the middle of Schalke 04's football pitch in Gelsenkirchen before more than 77,000 spectators, a world record for an ice hockey match. And they were not disappointed, when the home side sensationally won 2-1 in overtime.
Even more sensationally, Denmark this evening have just beaten Finland 4-1 in the same group. Denmark are minnows at ice hockey, whereas Finland are one of the world heavyweights, and the current Olympic bronze medallists. But it was a deserved victory.
Denmark had never qualified for the world championships before 2003. But since then, a group of young players have come through, even making the big breakthrough to the NHL. Indeed, it was Frans Nielsen, the first Dane to play in the NHL with the New York Islanders, who led the way with two goals.
You would have got long odds on Germany and Denmark leading their group this weekend. I am already looking forward to next week.
Walter Blotscher
The ice hockey world championships have just started in Germany. Because of the ongoing NHL play-offs, some of the world's best players will not be there. But the tournament has already produced some surprises.
Last night's opening game between Germany and the U.S. was played in a special rink constructed in the middle of Schalke 04's football pitch in Gelsenkirchen before more than 77,000 spectators, a world record for an ice hockey match. And they were not disappointed, when the home side sensationally won 2-1 in overtime.
Even more sensationally, Denmark this evening have just beaten Finland 4-1 in the same group. Denmark are minnows at ice hockey, whereas Finland are one of the world heavyweights, and the current Olympic bronze medallists. But it was a deserved victory.
Denmark had never qualified for the world championships before 2003. But since then, a group of young players have come through, even making the big breakthrough to the NHL. Indeed, it was Frans Nielsen, the first Dane to play in the NHL with the New York Islanders, who led the way with two goals.
You would have got long odds on Germany and Denmark leading their group this weekend. I am already looking forward to next week.
Walter Blotscher
Friday 7 May 2010
THE U.K. GENERAL ELECTION
Well, that was a bit of a humdinger! I watched it live on DR1 (Denmark's BBC), which put on almost two hours of coverage last night, before handing over at 12.30am to the BBC's live feed for Danes to watch it throughout the night. In moments of boredom - notably when Jeremy Paxman was interviewing, why is his combative style so irritating these days? - I tried to work out the likelihood of the BBC's showing two hours of prime time coverage of the next Danish general election, and kept getting stuck on the word "nil". Anyway, thanks to DR for giving this expatriate the opportunity to renew acquaintance with the swingometer and such like.
Watching from afar certainly gives a different perspective on things. The first-past-the-post system doesn't seem so bad in theory and I am used to it in practice. But when a Danish journalist tries to explain it in Danish - particularly the fact that the votes for the losing candidates in a constituency have no value - then it seems almost absurd. No self-respecting continental would accept that a U.K. political party could in theory get 49.9% of the votes in every single constituency, and yet end up with no seats in Parliament. They also find it very difficult to accept that what happens in the event of a hung Parliament is governed not by fixed rules enshrined in the constitution, but by "conventions" worked out over time.
The message I got from the election this time around was that everybody lost. Labour lost in the literal sense, with fewer votes, and a lot less seats. The Conservatives lost, since they campaigned strongly on the need for them to obtain an overall majority, and they didn't get one. The Liberal Democrats lost, since although Nick Clegg greatly raised their national profile, they only got a 1% greater share of the vote than last time, which actually resulted in fewer seats. And the people lost; they wanted a strong Government to get them out of the current economic mess, yet ended up with no Government at all.
What happens now is going to be very interesting, since there are many possible permutations. Gordon Brown remains Prime Minister (one of the conventions) until he either resigns or loses a vote of confidence in the House of Commons. Labour and the Lib Dems together will have more seats than the Conservatives, so a coalition - with electoral reform the price of the Lib Dems' support - is a possibility. Knowing that, the Conservatives could themselves offer the Lib Dems electoral reform, thereby allowing a coalition with a working majority, with David Cameron as Prime Minister. But would the Conservative Party, the oldest and most successful political party in the world, accept the end of the electoral system they have always defended to the death? If neither of those possibilities works, could the Conservatives run a minority Government alone, with support from the Celtic fringe, and tacit support from the Opposition on the big issues?
Lost amongst the intricacies of game theory are some notable nuggets. The Green Party won its first ever seat in Brighton, well done them. Brighton is an unusual place, but it is still very hard for a minority party to win a Parliamentary seat. The racist British National Party lost in Barking, a seat they had targeted, also good news. And a number of former Ministers (eg Jacqui Smith, who put her husband's porn video rentals on her Parliamentary expenses claim) deservedly got booted out.
Finally, it appears that a fair number of people ended up not being able to vote. Third world countries habitually harangued about the benefits of free and fair elections are probably chuckling at the sight of the Mother of Parliaments making a mess of things. No way to run a whelk stall, as they say in Zimbabwe ......
Walter Blotscher
Well, that was a bit of a humdinger! I watched it live on DR1 (Denmark's BBC), which put on almost two hours of coverage last night, before handing over at 12.30am to the BBC's live feed for Danes to watch it throughout the night. In moments of boredom - notably when Jeremy Paxman was interviewing, why is his combative style so irritating these days? - I tried to work out the likelihood of the BBC's showing two hours of prime time coverage of the next Danish general election, and kept getting stuck on the word "nil". Anyway, thanks to DR for giving this expatriate the opportunity to renew acquaintance with the swingometer and such like.
Watching from afar certainly gives a different perspective on things. The first-past-the-post system doesn't seem so bad in theory and I am used to it in practice. But when a Danish journalist tries to explain it in Danish - particularly the fact that the votes for the losing candidates in a constituency have no value - then it seems almost absurd. No self-respecting continental would accept that a U.K. political party could in theory get 49.9% of the votes in every single constituency, and yet end up with no seats in Parliament. They also find it very difficult to accept that what happens in the event of a hung Parliament is governed not by fixed rules enshrined in the constitution, but by "conventions" worked out over time.
The message I got from the election this time around was that everybody lost. Labour lost in the literal sense, with fewer votes, and a lot less seats. The Conservatives lost, since they campaigned strongly on the need for them to obtain an overall majority, and they didn't get one. The Liberal Democrats lost, since although Nick Clegg greatly raised their national profile, they only got a 1% greater share of the vote than last time, which actually resulted in fewer seats. And the people lost; they wanted a strong Government to get them out of the current economic mess, yet ended up with no Government at all.
What happens now is going to be very interesting, since there are many possible permutations. Gordon Brown remains Prime Minister (one of the conventions) until he either resigns or loses a vote of confidence in the House of Commons. Labour and the Lib Dems together will have more seats than the Conservatives, so a coalition - with electoral reform the price of the Lib Dems' support - is a possibility. Knowing that, the Conservatives could themselves offer the Lib Dems electoral reform, thereby allowing a coalition with a working majority, with David Cameron as Prime Minister. But would the Conservative Party, the oldest and most successful political party in the world, accept the end of the electoral system they have always defended to the death? If neither of those possibilities works, could the Conservatives run a minority Government alone, with support from the Celtic fringe, and tacit support from the Opposition on the big issues?
Lost amongst the intricacies of game theory are some notable nuggets. The Green Party won its first ever seat in Brighton, well done them. Brighton is an unusual place, but it is still very hard for a minority party to win a Parliamentary seat. The racist British National Party lost in Barking, a seat they had targeted, also good news. And a number of former Ministers (eg Jacqui Smith, who put her husband's porn video rentals on her Parliamentary expenses claim) deservedly got booted out.
Finally, it appears that a fair number of people ended up not being able to vote. Third world countries habitually harangued about the benefits of free and fair elections are probably chuckling at the sight of the Mother of Parliaments making a mess of things. No way to run a whelk stall, as they say in Zimbabwe ......
Walter Blotscher
Thursday 6 May 2010
TEENAGE BOYS
I have two teenage sons, aged 18 and 20. They are charming and loveable and all that, but not all is sweetness and light in the Blotscher household.
1. They eat like crazy. No matter how often my wife and I fill it up, the most common refrain is "there is nothing in the fridge". Well, that's not really surprising, the way they go at it, before meals, after meals, during meals even. They are not at all fat, they just have a ginormous metabolic rate.
2. "There is nothing in the fridge" is in fact quite a long sentence, since for large parts of the day, they are monosyllabic or just communicate in grunts. It as if their digestive system has worked its way upwards and taken over their voicebox.
3. They sleep for incredibly long hours. Mornings at the weekend are out, afternoons are touch and go. "I'm so tired" is another long sentence. What do they expect, with all that eating?
All in all, I am reminded of the python outside the Tanzanian restaurant in Snakes As Pets (12/4/10). They mix long periods of docility with frenetic wriggling at feeding time.
4. The latest development is their sports kit. It STINKS. I thought that it was old men like me, who were supposed to smell. Handball jockstraps and box, ski underwear for football, socks like you wouldn't believe. Part of the problem comes from the fact that ...
5. The stuff lies in a kitbag in front of the front door, along with all of the other bags they don't put away in their rooms. By the time the kitbag is emptied and the contents put in the washing room, the clothes have mouldered away in a damp environment for days, weeks even, resulting in a swampy, sweaty smell that can be overpowering.
I said in Gylle (1/5/10) that I was getting used to the smell of pig slurry on the fields. Perhaps it is just the fact that the smell outside the house is less than the smell inside?
Walter Blotscher
I have two teenage sons, aged 18 and 20. They are charming and loveable and all that, but not all is sweetness and light in the Blotscher household.
1. They eat like crazy. No matter how often my wife and I fill it up, the most common refrain is "there is nothing in the fridge". Well, that's not really surprising, the way they go at it, before meals, after meals, during meals even. They are not at all fat, they just have a ginormous metabolic rate.
2. "There is nothing in the fridge" is in fact quite a long sentence, since for large parts of the day, they are monosyllabic or just communicate in grunts. It as if their digestive system has worked its way upwards and taken over their voicebox.
3. They sleep for incredibly long hours. Mornings at the weekend are out, afternoons are touch and go. "I'm so tired" is another long sentence. What do they expect, with all that eating?
All in all, I am reminded of the python outside the Tanzanian restaurant in Snakes As Pets (12/4/10). They mix long periods of docility with frenetic wriggling at feeding time.
4. The latest development is their sports kit. It STINKS. I thought that it was old men like me, who were supposed to smell. Handball jockstraps and box, ski underwear for football, socks like you wouldn't believe. Part of the problem comes from the fact that ...
5. The stuff lies in a kitbag in front of the front door, along with all of the other bags they don't put away in their rooms. By the time the kitbag is emptied and the contents put in the washing room, the clothes have mouldered away in a damp environment for days, weeks even, resulting in a swampy, sweaty smell that can be overpowering.
I said in Gylle (1/5/10) that I was getting used to the smell of pig slurry on the fields. Perhaps it is just the fact that the smell outside the house is less than the smell inside?
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday 5 May 2010
GREECE (2)
I can understand the feelings behind the general strike in Greece today. If I were Greek, I think I too would be seriously pissed off with the country's political classes.
But, but, but. Is it such a good idea in present circumstances? The main culprits are the previous Government, whom the citizens have already booted out. The current Government does at least have the twin merits of coming clean about the problems and trying to do something about them (even if the range of options is severely limited).
The more tricky issue is that the possible solution to Greece's problems - massive loans from other EU countries and the IMF - requires the approval of non-Greeks; in particular, that of the German Parliament. The Germans have long been sceptical about bailing out their wastrel fellow Europeans to the south. Might the sight of rampaging ungrateful Greeks give them an excuse to vote the package down? If that were to happen, then Greece really would be in a crisis.
Walter Blotscher
I can understand the feelings behind the general strike in Greece today. If I were Greek, I think I too would be seriously pissed off with the country's political classes.
But, but, but. Is it such a good idea in present circumstances? The main culprits are the previous Government, whom the citizens have already booted out. The current Government does at least have the twin merits of coming clean about the problems and trying to do something about them (even if the range of options is severely limited).
The more tricky issue is that the possible solution to Greece's problems - massive loans from other EU countries and the IMF - requires the approval of non-Greeks; in particular, that of the German Parliament. The Germans have long been sceptical about bailing out their wastrel fellow Europeans to the south. Might the sight of rampaging ungrateful Greeks give them an excuse to vote the package down? If that were to happen, then Greece really would be in a crisis.
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday 4 May 2010
GREECE
With respect to Greece, I have two thoughts. The first is the phrase "you can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time". The fooling relates to the country's national income statistics, which, if not completely made up, appear to have been severely massaged and manipulated in the past. And the people refer to the financial markets, who - despite the above - eventually managed to work out that the Greek economy is in fact a house of cards. Faced with a choice between buying euro bonds issued by Germany and euro bonds issued by Greece, they are choosing the German kind in droves. To be blunt, who can blame them?
The second is that in matters of finance, credibility matters. Greece's euro-partners originally cobbled together a Euro45 billion rescue package, to be used "if necessary". However, the Germans, notably the Chancellor Angela Merkel, faced with a key state election in Nordrhein-Westfalen on 9 May, did nothing to convince their own taxpayers that bailing out the profligate Greeks was in their own interests. The markets took the hint, and decided to test that "if necessary" phrase. The result, in the form of the rescue package announced over the weekend, is that the bill is now up to Euros110 billion. Even that might not be the final figure.
There are lessons to be learned here for politicians in both euro and non-euro countries. As regards the former, have Portugal and Spain really come clean on the extent of their problems? And in the latter, whoever wins the British election on Thursday had better have a credible deficit-reduction plan ready pretty soon.
Walter Blotscher
With respect to Greece, I have two thoughts. The first is the phrase "you can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time". The fooling relates to the country's national income statistics, which, if not completely made up, appear to have been severely massaged and manipulated in the past. And the people refer to the financial markets, who - despite the above - eventually managed to work out that the Greek economy is in fact a house of cards. Faced with a choice between buying euro bonds issued by Germany and euro bonds issued by Greece, they are choosing the German kind in droves. To be blunt, who can blame them?
The second is that in matters of finance, credibility matters. Greece's euro-partners originally cobbled together a Euro45 billion rescue package, to be used "if necessary". However, the Germans, notably the Chancellor Angela Merkel, faced with a key state election in Nordrhein-Westfalen on 9 May, did nothing to convince their own taxpayers that bailing out the profligate Greeks was in their own interests. The markets took the hint, and decided to test that "if necessary" phrase. The result, in the form of the rescue package announced over the weekend, is that the bill is now up to Euros110 billion. Even that might not be the final figure.
There are lessons to be learned here for politicians in both euro and non-euro countries. As regards the former, have Portugal and Spain really come clean on the extent of their problems? And in the latter, whoever wins the British election on Thursday had better have a credible deficit-reduction plan ready pretty soon.
Walter Blotscher
Monday 3 May 2010
MICHAEL MOORE
I like Michael Moore. As an American it must be difficult being what Europeans would consider to be a mild social democrat, but what Americans think is a rabid pinko liberal, communist even. It is also no fun being a pioneer. Moore has for years been urging the U.S. to provide health insurance for all, not least because he has seen at first hand the devastating effect it can have when people lose their jobs (which, in the U.S., usually means losing their health insurance as well). This is what Obamacare should now provide.
I have just read Moore's book Stupid White Men, and two things struck me. The first is that he is much, much better on film than in print. The films (eg Fahrenheit 9/11, Roger and Me) provide the forum to allow the people he is going after to skewer themselves, while Moore provides laconic commentary and judicious editing. In print, there is just Moore. And while some of the 260 pages have moments of humour, a lot of it is just rant. (I know that my blog is entitled "rant of the day", but I don't think I rant so much any more. Not as much as I did in my 20's, at any rate.)
The second is that although the book was published at the end of 2001, it all seems a very long time ago. The 2000 election fight between George W. Bush and Al Gore, and the subsequent Bush regime, already seem as far away as the 1980's. Why is that? Is it because Bush achieved nothing of significance, well, nothing positive? Or that we are very good at forgetting unpleasant times? Whatever the answer, it's troubling.
Walter Blotscher
I like Michael Moore. As an American it must be difficult being what Europeans would consider to be a mild social democrat, but what Americans think is a rabid pinko liberal, communist even. It is also no fun being a pioneer. Moore has for years been urging the U.S. to provide health insurance for all, not least because he has seen at first hand the devastating effect it can have when people lose their jobs (which, in the U.S., usually means losing their health insurance as well). This is what Obamacare should now provide.
I have just read Moore's book Stupid White Men, and two things struck me. The first is that he is much, much better on film than in print. The films (eg Fahrenheit 9/11, Roger and Me) provide the forum to allow the people he is going after to skewer themselves, while Moore provides laconic commentary and judicious editing. In print, there is just Moore. And while some of the 260 pages have moments of humour, a lot of it is just rant. (I know that my blog is entitled "rant of the day", but I don't think I rant so much any more. Not as much as I did in my 20's, at any rate.)
The second is that although the book was published at the end of 2001, it all seems a very long time ago. The 2000 election fight between George W. Bush and Al Gore, and the subsequent Bush regime, already seem as far away as the 1980's. Why is that? Is it because Bush achieved nothing of significance, well, nothing positive? Or that we are very good at forgetting unpleasant times? Whatever the answer, it's troubling.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday 2 May 2010
FIDEI DEFENSOR
Most people know that Henry VIII, king of England from 1509 to 1547, had six wives. "Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived" was the ditty we learned at school in order to remember what happened to them.
Fewer people know that he also had another title; Fidei Defensor, Defender of the Faith. In his youth, when he was still happily married to his first wife Catherine of Aragon, Henry was a sober, rather pious man. The papacy was having trouble in Germany with a revolutionary monk called Martin Luther. In 1521 Henry commissioned a team of eminent English theologians to help him write - in Latin - a refutation of Luther's works, The Assertion of the Seven Sacraments. This was rather successful, and the title Fidei Defensor was Henry's reward from a grateful Pope Leo X.
Fast forward a decade and things were rather different. Under pressure from the Emperor Charles V, who was Catherine's nephew, a different Pope refused to annul Henry's marriage so that he could remarry and obtain a male heir. So Henry broke with Rome, founding what became the Anglican Church, repudiated Catherine, married Anne Boleyn, dissolved the monasteries and nicked all of their property, and executed Sir Thomas More and others for not approving. Not surprisingly, the papacy became very angry with its former star pupil, excommunicating Henry in 1530 and withdrawing his title.
There matters might have rested if it had not been for that bolshy institution, the English Parliament. In 1544, they reauthorised the accolade as a formal royal title, a position it has retained ever since. Its importance is underlined by the fact that it appears on all British coins; the Queen's head is surrounded by Elizabeth II DG ("by the grace of God") Reg ("queen") FD ("defender of the faith") and the year of issue.
It may well seem odd for the head of the British monarchy and Anglican Church to retain a title designed to promote another religion; a religion, moreover, which her forebears spent a lot of effort trying to suppress (think Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, the Test Acts, the banning of Catholics from Parliament, universities and the succession, and much else). It certainly discomforts some people, notably the heir to the throne Prince Charles, who has suggested replacing the title with Defender of Faith, meaning of all faiths (including Islam, Hinduism and such like). That rather neat (too neat?) solution would have the decided advantage that no coins, ornaments, sculptures or paintings would have to be changed. But the wheels of royalty turn very slowly. Henry VIII claimed to be king of England, Ireland and France. The claim to France had existed for most of the Middle Ages, and resulted in the Hundred Years War. Despite being booted out of France by Joan of Arc in the 1430's and losing Calais, their last toehold on the continent in 1558, English kings continued to style themselves king of France until the Act of Union in 1801, by which time France was no longer a monarchy. Expect Fidei Defensor to be around for a while yet.
Walter Blotscher
Most people know that Henry VIII, king of England from 1509 to 1547, had six wives. "Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived" was the ditty we learned at school in order to remember what happened to them.
Fewer people know that he also had another title; Fidei Defensor, Defender of the Faith. In his youth, when he was still happily married to his first wife Catherine of Aragon, Henry was a sober, rather pious man. The papacy was having trouble in Germany with a revolutionary monk called Martin Luther. In 1521 Henry commissioned a team of eminent English theologians to help him write - in Latin - a refutation of Luther's works, The Assertion of the Seven Sacraments. This was rather successful, and the title Fidei Defensor was Henry's reward from a grateful Pope Leo X.
Fast forward a decade and things were rather different. Under pressure from the Emperor Charles V, who was Catherine's nephew, a different Pope refused to annul Henry's marriage so that he could remarry and obtain a male heir. So Henry broke with Rome, founding what became the Anglican Church, repudiated Catherine, married Anne Boleyn, dissolved the monasteries and nicked all of their property, and executed Sir Thomas More and others for not approving. Not surprisingly, the papacy became very angry with its former star pupil, excommunicating Henry in 1530 and withdrawing his title.
There matters might have rested if it had not been for that bolshy institution, the English Parliament. In 1544, they reauthorised the accolade as a formal royal title, a position it has retained ever since. Its importance is underlined by the fact that it appears on all British coins; the Queen's head is surrounded by Elizabeth II DG ("by the grace of God") Reg ("queen") FD ("defender of the faith") and the year of issue.
It may well seem odd for the head of the British monarchy and Anglican Church to retain a title designed to promote another religion; a religion, moreover, which her forebears spent a lot of effort trying to suppress (think Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, the Test Acts, the banning of Catholics from Parliament, universities and the succession, and much else). It certainly discomforts some people, notably the heir to the throne Prince Charles, who has suggested replacing the title with Defender of Faith, meaning of all faiths (including Islam, Hinduism and such like). That rather neat (too neat?) solution would have the decided advantage that no coins, ornaments, sculptures or paintings would have to be changed. But the wheels of royalty turn very slowly. Henry VIII claimed to be king of England, Ireland and France. The claim to France had existed for most of the Middle Ages, and resulted in the Hundred Years War. Despite being booted out of France by Joan of Arc in the 1430's and losing Calais, their last toehold on the continent in 1558, English kings continued to style themselves king of France until the Act of Union in 1801, by which time France was no longer a monarchy. Expect Fidei Defensor to be around for a while yet.
Walter Blotscher
Saturday 1 May 2010
GYLLE
The advantage of living in the Danish countryside in springtime is seeing the massive changes in nature. The disadvantage is having to put up with the smell of "gylle" (pig slurry) on the fields.
Let me say up-front that I like pigs a lot. When I first met my wife, she gave me a psychological test, which involved - inter alia - telling her my favourite animal. I said a pig, because it was friendly. I am not sure what the answer was supposed to signify about me; but it must have been OK, since I am still married to her (my wife, that is).
Pigs are a BIG deal in Denmark. There are 5.5m people, but 12.5m pigs, down from 14m a couple of years ago. To put that into perspective, that is more than two and a half times the pig population of the United Kingdom, which has 10 times as many people. In fact, the pig effect is even bigger than suggested, since breeding sows have 8-12 piglets, twice a year. In 2007, Denmark slaughtered 22.4m pigs, and exported a further 3.8m piglets. The EU overall has a perennial trade deficit with Japan, but Denmark is about the only country that has a trade surplus, thanks mainly to pork exports. I have visited Danish Crown's new factory in Horsens, which can supply 2% of the world's pork consumption with just 1,400 employees. It exports to over 130 countries.
In line with developments elsewhere in Europe, the number of farms in Denmark halved in the 20 years between 1986 and 2006. But the number of pig farms fell even faster, from a proportion of just under half to around a sixth, even as production was rising. That has led to a rapid increase in the average size of each farm. In 1986, over 65% of pig farms had less than 200 pigs, and only a handful had more than 5,000; by 2006, more than 15% of farms, representing half of total production, had more than 5,000 pigs. Farmers want to up the maximum to 25,000.
This "industrialisation" of the pork industry, 80% of which is on Jutland, where the land is often of poor quality and so not good for much else, has been great for Denmark's agricultural competitiveness and general economy. But there is a downside, and it is a big one; the average pig produces about twice as much waste as the average human. Do the math, as my son would say. Twice as much per porker multiplied by a throughput which is 4-5 times the human population, and you end up with a lot of pigshit, perhaps ten times the load on the public sewage system.
That has two consequences. The first is the gradual buying-up of spare agricultural land by pig farmers, not necessarily because they want to farm it, but because they need a place to spread all of that muck. The continual grumble of the local arable farmers is that they can't expand their farms to an economic size, because everything is being bought up by the pigmen. The field over the road from our house is a case in point; when sold, it went to the pig farm located - thankfully - out of sight over the hill rather than to the farmer who had the neighbouring piece of land.
The second is that smell. I am used to it now, but there is no doubt that there are times in the year, when it is really bad. Pig farms have huge "gylle" tanks for storing the stuff, and farmers drive around with massive "gylle" wagons, complete with a vast array of hoses; get stuck behind one of them on a main road and you'll notice it! Some years ago we nearly bought a house in the nearby village, where there are three pig farms. When we asked the estate agent "does it smell?", he was rather evasive and said "from time to time". I am very glad we didn't buy the house, since every time I cycle through that village, it stinks.
People are beginning to question whether the relentless increase in the size of pig farms is worth it. There is now a national association for "gylleramte" (people affected by gylle), who are active in questioning whether huge farms should get their environmental clearance certificates. And the tourist industry is worried. Although Germany is Denmark's biggest export market for pigs, German tourists are also one of the biggest contributors to the service sector. They are less likely to visit, if the whole place smells like a sewage works. However pretty the view.
Walter Blotscher
The advantage of living in the Danish countryside in springtime is seeing the massive changes in nature. The disadvantage is having to put up with the smell of "gylle" (pig slurry) on the fields.
Let me say up-front that I like pigs a lot. When I first met my wife, she gave me a psychological test, which involved - inter alia - telling her my favourite animal. I said a pig, because it was friendly. I am not sure what the answer was supposed to signify about me; but it must have been OK, since I am still married to her (my wife, that is).
Pigs are a BIG deal in Denmark. There are 5.5m people, but 12.5m pigs, down from 14m a couple of years ago. To put that into perspective, that is more than two and a half times the pig population of the United Kingdom, which has 10 times as many people. In fact, the pig effect is even bigger than suggested, since breeding sows have 8-12 piglets, twice a year. In 2007, Denmark slaughtered 22.4m pigs, and exported a further 3.8m piglets. The EU overall has a perennial trade deficit with Japan, but Denmark is about the only country that has a trade surplus, thanks mainly to pork exports. I have visited Danish Crown's new factory in Horsens, which can supply 2% of the world's pork consumption with just 1,400 employees. It exports to over 130 countries.
In line with developments elsewhere in Europe, the number of farms in Denmark halved in the 20 years between 1986 and 2006. But the number of pig farms fell even faster, from a proportion of just under half to around a sixth, even as production was rising. That has led to a rapid increase in the average size of each farm. In 1986, over 65% of pig farms had less than 200 pigs, and only a handful had more than 5,000; by 2006, more than 15% of farms, representing half of total production, had more than 5,000 pigs. Farmers want to up the maximum to 25,000.
This "industrialisation" of the pork industry, 80% of which is on Jutland, where the land is often of poor quality and so not good for much else, has been great for Denmark's agricultural competitiveness and general economy. But there is a downside, and it is a big one; the average pig produces about twice as much waste as the average human. Do the math, as my son would say. Twice as much per porker multiplied by a throughput which is 4-5 times the human population, and you end up with a lot of pigshit, perhaps ten times the load on the public sewage system.
That has two consequences. The first is the gradual buying-up of spare agricultural land by pig farmers, not necessarily because they want to farm it, but because they need a place to spread all of that muck. The continual grumble of the local arable farmers is that they can't expand their farms to an economic size, because everything is being bought up by the pigmen. The field over the road from our house is a case in point; when sold, it went to the pig farm located - thankfully - out of sight over the hill rather than to the farmer who had the neighbouring piece of land.
The second is that smell. I am used to it now, but there is no doubt that there are times in the year, when it is really bad. Pig farms have huge "gylle" tanks for storing the stuff, and farmers drive around with massive "gylle" wagons, complete with a vast array of hoses; get stuck behind one of them on a main road and you'll notice it! Some years ago we nearly bought a house in the nearby village, where there are three pig farms. When we asked the estate agent "does it smell?", he was rather evasive and said "from time to time". I am very glad we didn't buy the house, since every time I cycle through that village, it stinks.
People are beginning to question whether the relentless increase in the size of pig farms is worth it. There is now a national association for "gylleramte" (people affected by gylle), who are active in questioning whether huge farms should get their environmental clearance certificates. And the tourist industry is worried. Although Germany is Denmark's biggest export market for pigs, German tourists are also one of the biggest contributors to the service sector. They are less likely to visit, if the whole place smells like a sewage works. However pretty the view.
Walter Blotscher
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