The Apprentice

I cannot recommend strongly enough that you should be watching "The Apprentice" on BBC2. This is the only reality show you can watch without checking your brain at the door. Watching a bunch of cocky, business-bollocks talking muppets getting cut down to size by Sir Alan Sugar is one of the few highlights of modern television.

The concept is simple: 14 people are taking part in what is essentially one long interview process. Each week, the group is split in two and given a task. The losing team leader selects two people from that team that they feel should be fired, and the three of them each defend themselves against Sir Alan. One team member will be fired. The last man/woman standing gets a £100,000 per annum job.

So, a simple idea but endlessly entertaining. Watching these people fly apart under stress is car crash television: you simply can't look away, even when you can see what's going wrong.

To give an example, tonight saw two very different styles of management. As usual, the teams were divided according to gender, but with a team leader from the opposite gender. So each leader was dealing with a group of people he hadn't worked with before, and who were going to resent them. Fantastic!

The challenge was to run a food stall at the Thames Festival. Each stand had to be themed. Each team has a £2000 budget. The team bringing back the biggest profit wins. Easy as that.

Leading the boys team was Alexa. Alexa was nearly fired last week, and rapidly showed she had all the management skills of my left testicle. She was thoroughly overwhelmed by the egos on legs that form the boys team. Even when supposed restaurant expert Syed announced he'd accidently blown the budget by ordering far too much food, Alexa said nothing.

The team was aiming to make 500 pizzas. They made 90 pizza bases, leaving them with huge amounts of toppings they couldn't use.

Leading the girls was Mani. Frankly, a bit of a twat, but he did seem to have the right approach to this task. Despite complaints from Michelle that she was being ignored, Mani was in fact focusing on getting the job done, rather than wasting time listening to each persons opinion and making sure everyone knew exactly what he was doing. Of course, it didn't help that Michelle could only whine that she didn't like what was going on, without going into specifics. I also suspect that walking out of a business meeting with Sir Alan to go and have a bit of a cry wouldn't go down too well, so I suspect she may not be the winner of the contest.

So, who won? Mani's team spent about £1200, and made a profit of about £350. Alexa's team spent all their budget bar £6, and made a loss of around £1200. Bummer. Alexa took Syed and Tuan into the boardroom with her, and all three were roasted over the failure. Alexa went, but only because the rules don't allow more than one person to be fired at a time. And it was the right call. Yes, Syed and Tuan screwed up, but the total lack of any management compounded any bad decision made.

For example, Syed's over-ordering, and the team only producing 90 pizza bases, meant each slice of pizza would need to sell for about £4.70. Alexa was happy for them to start selling at £3 per slice. It doesn't take a maths genius to see you're not going to turn a profit. Personally, with the £6 left, I would have sent Syed out to buy as many bread rolls as he could, then use them with the surplus toppings to make sandwiches. Sure, it wouldn't have saved them, but it would have minimised the loss. Of course, I would also have got Syed to try and return a lot of the surplus to the wholesaler, and idea that didn't occur to these business geniuses.

Over with Mani's team, as mentioned, there was criticism of his leadership. The girls resented him leaving them to prepare the ingrediants whilst he went off to negotiate with drinks suppliers. The thing is, I agree with this decision. As the man in charge, he's responsible for any deals reached, so even if he sent someone else to do the dealing, they'd have to report back to him. It makes far more sense for the person who has to make the decisions to go do that whilst the staff get on with the tasks that need no management input. I think it made a pleasant change from the "everyone's input is valuable" pseudo-democratic approach that has seen the women's team lose twice before this.

Of course, what do I know? I'm just some monkey what flits from place to place, but it's scary to see how inept some of these people can be. Anyway, watch The Apprentice. If you haven't been watching it, go to the website, where you can watch all the episodes to date. Enjoy.

Embryos and the Right to Children

There's been a really quite interesting news story recently, or rather the continuation of one that's been floating around for a year or two. The latest installment of the sorry saga is on the BBC website here, and it raises some questions. For those who don't want to check the website, a brief summary:

Natalie Evans and her then partner, Howard Johnston, started IVF treatment in 2001. This resulted in embryos being created from their eggs and sperm. These embyos were frozen. Subsequently, the couple have split up, and Ms Evans has been left infertile by cancer. She wants to proceed with the treatment and become pregnant, but can only do so with these embryos. Mr Johnston does not wish to have a child/children with Ms Evans. Ms Evans has pursued the matter through the courts in Britain, and been denied, and has just been again denied by the European Court of Human Rights. She plans to appeal to the Grand Jury of the European Court, and also hopes Mr Johnston will change his mind. Furthermore, under UK law, the embryos will be destroyed in October, as Mr Johnston has withdrawn his consent for them to be used.

The European Court is quoted as saying: "The Court, like the national courts, had great sympathy for the plight of the applicant who, if implantation did not take place, would be deprived of the ability to give birth to her own child." However, they rule that the fact Mr Johnston has withdrawn consent takes precedence over Ms Evans being able to carry a child.

Ok, I think that summarises the sorry tale so far. Frankly, it raises so many issues, it's difficult to know where to start. Perhaps we should start with the creation of these embryos.

In the Beginning...
It has been argued by Josephine Quintavalle of the pro-life group Comment on Reproductive Ethics that Mr Johnston in fact became a father with the creation of the embryos. This strikes me as coming close to various arguments on abortion that center on when a human becomes a human and not a cluster of cells. I don't wish to seem harsh, but these are not humans we're talking about. They are potential humans. So are my sperm, and I've flushed quite a lot of those away without anyone campaigning outside my door. But I don't want to get into the abortion debate here.

The point is, the law requires the consent of both partners every step of the way, and rightly so. Imagine the outcry had the roles been reversed and it was Mr Johnston who had become sterile and was now insisting Ms Evans carry a child she doesn't want. Yes, I'm aware that women have to physically carry and bear the child, but there still remains the fact that no one should be forced to be a parent against their will. There are some rather strange arguments along the lines of "Well, what if she legally waives any responsibility he has to the child?" Firstly, I'm not sure that this can actually be done. Secondly, even if he had no legal responsibility, no man worth his salt could walk away from a child he knew was his. Men have feelings too, you know?

I'm fascinated that anyone would seriously consider making someone a parent against their will. We're not talking about a woman who's pregnant, we're talking about a woman who cannot become pregnant without this man becoming a father. A man who admits that he doesn't want a family at this time, and certainly not with a woman he's already seperated from. We're not talking about a foetus that will have to be aborted, we're talking about a few cells little more advanced than the stuff men and women regularly dispose of.

Of course, it's not just these two people who are affected. Under the bizarre way British law works, if Ms Evans were in fact granted permission to use these embryos, it would set a precendent that would affect any similar case in the future. Enough to make you think twice about IVF, lads?

The Right to Give Birth
The larger issue that strikes me is the whole point that Ms Evans feels she has a right to bear a child that is biologically "hers." This seems to be a common sentiment in the world, and one I totally disagree with. Given both the over-population problems we are beginning to face, and the already large number of children without parents for whatever reason, I can see no reason why Ms Evans isn't told to adopt if she wants a child that badly. Yes, it won't be "biologically hers," but sadly this happens in life. I don't understand this "right" to have children. Or rather, I do.

I understand the biological imperative to pass on our genes. It is what drives every animal, hell every living thing. It proves that we're not as superior to the rest of creation as we like to think. Personally, I like to think that if I ever have children, what I pass on won't be the concoction of DNA from generations of random breeding, mixed with someone else's equally random genetic structure. What I hope to pass on, whether to my children or to other's, are ideas, thoughts, a way of looking at the world. Isn't that just a bit more important than being able to say "Ooh, he's got my dad's eyes?"

I hope that this will spark some comment, as it's not really complete in itself, and I fully expect to return to the subject in the future.

Evolution vs. Health and Safety

Ok, the first part of this goes back to my (very) temporary job that provided the corporate bollocks day. After I'd been there about two weeks, a bunch of us newbies were taken to the other side of the building to receive our formal Health and Safety training. As I'd been there two weeks without injury, I wasn't quite sure what the point of this was, but I gather it was some legal bullshit. Anyhoo, it was a half hour off work, so I wasn't complaining.

As it turns out, the training consisted of watching a video. The video can be summarised in two main points:
1: Watch where you're going.
2: Don't leave stuff where people might trip over it.

That was it. Now, I hope this doesn't come across as smug or superior, but I've known that since I was about five years old. It's not rocket science. I would also add that if you haven't learned these lessons by the time you're 18, you don't deserve to know. You deserve to slip on a wet patch and plummet down the stairs. "Watch where you're going" is about the most basic lesson we learn. Hell, if you don't watch where you're going, you're probably not going to be at work to watch the video because you got hit by a car you didn't see. Surely, the fact I've made it to the age of 27 is proof enough I know to watch where I'm going?

"But what has this to do with evolution?" I imagine I hear you asking. It's quite simple. At it's most basic, evolution works by killing those least suited to survival. In the past, this meant that creatures with thin coats died in cold environments, whilst those with thick coats prospered. The fat and slow were eaten by the quick and agile. Bernand Manning was replace on television by comedians who were funny. You get the idea. But in the modern world, we've effectively removed ourselves from evolution.

Yes, I know every so often you hear some idiot spout off about how we'll evolve to have no legs, or bigger thumbs, but it's nonsense. The only way that works is if the only people who reproduce are those born with no legs, or bigger thumbs. But that's a side issue.

You see, we no longer allow evolution to affect us because we protect those members of our society least suited to survive in it: the stupid. People who need to be told to look where they're going. People who need warnings that coffee is hot. People who need warnings that a bag of peanuts may contain traces of nuts. Every warning you see on an item you buy can be traced to some idiot who did that exact thing. Some prat who didn't realise that cruise control on a camper van DOES NOT mean you can go in the back and make coffee, leaving the van to drive itself at 70mph up the motorway. And we are protecting them, preventing stupidity being removed from the gene pool. By protecting morons, we're preventing the human race from growing.

I'm not advocating some kind of Nazi-esque extermination of people. I'm suggesting that maybe we should stop making so many laws that allow stupidity to continue. You wanna right a motorbike without a helmet? You go for it. Don't like seatbelts? Don't wear them! BUT, you and your family have no right to sue when you're injured or killed as a result. Let's all grow up a little, and start taking some responsibility for our own actions.

Corporate bollocks and team-building.

To open, I'd like to offer this rant that has been languishing on my hard drive for a while. To set the scene: at the time, I was working a temp job for... well, the company name doesn't matter. At this point, I was suffering from a really bad dose of the flu, and should really have been home in bed. I was encouraged to come in, as this afternoon of team-building would be really important. Yeah, right. Anyway, I struggled in, nostrils full of snot, head full of ache. I wish I hadn't...

One heart, one soul, yeah! One Vision!
We began with a talk by David. I have to this day no idea what he did, as the programme for the day’s activities neglected to include job titles. By his performance, I think David may have been a random shy man picked off the street to deliver a presentation for someone who couldn’t make it. He was all but inaudible to those of us sitting four rows back. This was unfortunate, as he was supposed to be imparting his "vision" to us. All I could make out was that our department was like a rolling pin. I have no idea why. I would have said our department was more like an office processing invoices, but I’d only been there a few weeks. The top management people in the department saw it as a rolling pin. Eventually, I think after about two years or half an hour (Einstein was so right with that relativity thing), David stopped talking. Or at least, he sat down. He may have continued talking, but given his volume level, I couldn’t say for certain if he had stopped talking.

At this point, I should say that this might be the reason the rest of the afternoon seemed nonsensical. Throughout the day, people would refer to David’s vision. As I have no idea what this vision is, it could explain why the afternoon seemed to be bollocks. But on with the show.

Silence is golden
After David’s gripping explanation of his vision, it was felt a warm-up exercise was required. Fearing fifteen minutes of aerobics, I shed my jacket with a heavy heart and a runny nose (flu, remember?). Luckily (for me, not the dimwits I was stuck with), it was to be more of a mental warm-up. Each group of about ten people had to put themselves in order of birth date (day and month only, not year). Simple, you may think. But we had to do this without speaking or writing. Hmm, how to achieve this pointless exercise?

Standard group politics were on my side. Before I was required to expend any thought on this, the obligatory loud-mouthed, empty-headed lad stepped forward to take charge. After some frankly appalling miming, counting and cheating, we were in order. The wrong order, as we found out when announcing our birth dates. Oh well, it’s the effort that counts. Strangely, another team complained we had cheated. Whilst this was accurate, I can’t see what the problem was, given we made a total Horlicks of it, thus embarassing ourselves far more than simple failure would have.

What did we learn from this? Well the summary, from manager Jo, was that we had trouble communicating without speech or writing. She is the great detective of Baker Street reborn in the form of a management prat. Who would have thought people might have trouble communicating without spoken or written words? I must say, I was shocked by this revelation.

Our five year mission
Next, Jo wanted us to devise a mission statement. Why, I don’t know. I should have thought that if you need a statement to tell people what you do, it would suggest you’re not doing anything worthwhile. No one looks at a street sweeper and asks what his mission statement is. We know he’s there to clean the street. But we needed a mission statement. So we were divided into small groups of four or five and told to come up with something.

Unfortunately, my group consisted of at least two temps. As we have no idea what the department does, we could make no real contribution. I think our official job description was "Turn up and do anything anyone tells you to." I did ask what we did, and was told this was a good question. I know, that’s why I asked it. The answer was not forthcoming.

From what I gathered, the department checks invoices for errors. My mission statement, therefore, would be along the lines of "To make sure the bastards aren’t screwing us." I kept this to myself.

Fortunately, no one else seemed to come up with a mission statement, either. Instead, Jo settled for collecting words that could be used in a mission statement. I refrained from shouting out suggestions such as "the," "and," and "horseshit." Instead, we collected the usual suspects of quality, excellence, precision, and somewhat bizarrely, equality. I’m not quite sure what this will relate to. Perhaps there is fear our department will start discriminating against foreign sounding companies. However, Jo promised to revisit the mission statement at the next team briefing in a week’s time. I can't quite recall if she did or not, as I tended to zone out during those meetings.

Just Gimme the Prize
Onto the meat of the afternoon. And a rancid, maggot-infested meat it was. Split into three teams, we were to run sweet distribution companies. The winner would be the company that showed the greatest profit at the end. We had ten orders to fill, more might arrive late, for which we could add charges. We had to order the sweets from the manufacturer, package them and send them out with a correctly filled out VAT invoice. The three teams came up with three approaches:
Team 1: Carefully analyse the situation, work out exactly what has to be done, and then assign people tasks.
Team 2: Similar to Team 1, but with a little more initial action.
Team 3: Allow the loudest member of the group to throw tasks at anyone who isn’t doing something. I was in Team 3.

Of course, management professionals will realise that Team 3 will descend into chaos. They did. About four people were constantly measuring, cutting, ordering and calculating, whilst the others sat about until someone asked them to do something. I made sarcastic comments. We stole another teams package from the "delivery depot" we all shared, and spent some of our profits on sweets for ourselves. We were, of course, doomed to failure, but didn’t care. We finished twenty minutes before anyone else, and arsed about in the unexpected interval. Then, with everyone else finished, we had another fifteen-minute break for coffee, tea, pastry and nicotine poisoning. Then it was straight back into the action.

Analysis, Mr Spock
The results of the contest weren’t in yet, so we had to explain what we had learned without knowing what had worked. This seemed flawed to me. Surely you need to know which approach worked before you start drawing lessons from the exercise? Again, I kept this to myself.

So everyone gave out the usual pap about needing teamwork, communication, planning, yadda yadda yadda. I allowed myself to doze at this point, as I’ve attended team-building sessions before (the ability to sleep with my eyes open is perhaps my most useful business skill). When I awoke, it was to find that the results of the competition were ready. Team 2 were announced as the winners. Then someone else pointed out they weren’t. The guy (no idea who, some kinda computer geek) checked again and realised Team 3 were the true victors. How, I have no idea. We graciously accepted our £5 WH Smith vouchers, as everyone else wondered how the hell this had happened. The lessons learnt from this were:
*Cheats prosper
*Crime pays
*Never plan
*Communication is overrated

I’m not quite sure what we were supposed to learn from this. I still can’t believe we weren’t disqualified over the whole cheating/theft issue. I suppose this is acceptable business practise.
We also discovered that one team had made quite a bad mistake on their invoices. They had neglected to mark up their prices. So they were charging the same price to their customers as they were paying to their supplier, effectively making no profit. Now, what makes this worse is that the amount they should have been charging was on the pre-printed invoice form filled in with each order. So this team, working in a department that processes invoices, didn’t or couldn’t read a very basic invoice form. They were unable to read this line:

Red sweets x6 @ £2 each =

And come up with the answer "12." I’d have taken this as identifying the weak links in the company and fired them on the spot. Instead, this was a source of humour. Go figure.

And now, the end is near
The close of the day was… dull. I listened to about an hour on what the department had done in the last year, and what it would do in the next year. As I wasn’t there last year and had no intention of remaining for the next year, I safely slept through this. There was also a brief quiz on acronyms commonly used in the department. Again, my three weeks with the company had not really given me the ability to help on this.

And so the day ended. I had hoped at the beginning of this to figure out what I could take away from the experience. But I’ve got nothing. As is usual with this kind of corporate shite, no one seems to gain from it. On the plus side, the management seemed to feel it had gone well. So I guess at least someone was happy. Personally, I think I would have gained more from having the afternoon off.

There endeth the rant. A few final notes. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. I left the job by mutual agreement a few weeks later. It was the second-worst job I've ever had. Moral of the story? Just let people get on with their jobs, and they'll be happier.

Begun, the blogging has

Well, er, gosh. Here I am. And here you are. Well well well. Isn't this exciting? The first post in the blog of Sledge. So, what do I want to say?

Well, I've set this blog up because I've increasingly felt a need to write stuff that doesn't really fit in on the forums I regularly frequent (take a bow Arnie's Airsoft and The Tommy Boyd Shrine). Some of it is too controversial, some of it is too boring. Whatever the reason, this is where I shall ramble on a variety of topics.

As this blog grows, you can expect a variety of serious and funny stuff, on any topic that catches my eye. Anyone familiar with me from my previous adventures in cyberspace will know that could be pretty much anything. So, here we go.