Chlorine is good for you

Good to know that swimming will soon be free for the over 60s. According to Andy Burnham, the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport,

“Swimming has universal appeal for all ages and provides the opportunities for families to participate in healthy activity together. Our aim is to help as many areas as possible remove charges and provide some kind of free swimming proposition. All the evidence shows that it removes barriers to those who are inactive. It is for local authorities to decide just how far they want to go.”

Let’s hope that we don’t get fined if we don’t go swimming. The last thing I want to do is participate in healthy activity with anyone else!

The tyranny of time

One of the delights of being away from the office on holiday is the freedom it brings from the tyranny of the chargeable hour. Nonetheless I enjoyed Michael Skapinker’s column The jury is out on family life and the law in the FT on 22 April, in which he looked mainly at what he referred to as the 50:20 ‘scandal’, that 50% of law graduates are women but only about 20% of partners are female, but which began with the fees we lawyers charge, following Mr Justice Floyd’s remarks in the BlackBerry case.

Selling time is not what we should be doing, and things are changing. How quickly is another matter. The problem is that it is considerably easier to sell time than value, and when I have argued the matter with my partners (most of whom are wedded to the chargeable hour), their usual reply is that if it works, why change it. The point they are missing is that either we will have to change, or clients will change us.

But back to 50:20. Skapinker makes good points

In accounting for the failure of women lawyers to advance to partnership, I think we can largely discount sexism as a factor. No doubt there are misogynistic lawyers, and others who secretly doubt whether women can hack it, but for firms to be engaging in widespread rampant, or even subtle, discrimination would make no sense.

First, the level of attrition among women lawyers is ruinously wasteful. The cost of turning graduates into proper lawyers is high, and the 50:20 figure suggests that well over half of the expensively trained female recruits are dropping out along the way. No profit-minded law firm (and, as the BlackBerry case demonstrates, lawyers are intensely profit-minded) would deliberately fritter away investment on this scale.

Second, if some law firms were discriminating against women, others would surely have the nous to snap up these highly capable discards.

Everyone knows what the real problem is: much of law, as practised at the highest level, is incompatible with family life. The pressure to bill for thousands of hours of work, so evident in the BlackBerry case, helps see to that.

But is this all?

Add to this Susan Pinker’s argument, set out in The Sexual Paradox: Men, Women, and the Real Gender Gap, that the workplace gender gap is not the result of discrimination but of differences in brain structure, hormones, motivation, empathy and risk aversion, and choice. It may not play well with the sisters, and the argument is controversial, but the question needs to be asked.

So talking to yourself really does work

It is not April 1, so it must be true. According to a report in today’s Telegraph, talking to yourself is actually good for the brain and mental well being. According to Julie Henry, the Telegraph’s Education Correspondent,

Studies have found that “self-talking” can aid concentration, help solve problems and lift depressive moods.

I suppose it may depend upon what you say to yourself. Working in an open-plan office, I cannot but hear one of my partners, who is forever exhorting himself to “Get a grip” and “Come on, get on with it”. Talking to yourself may, as the psychiatrist Paul Horton is reported as having found when carrying out his survey, help to raise glum spirits. I just reckon that my next door neighbour is barking.

Who’s watching you?

Philip Pulman doesn’t like ID cards. In an aside in an interview in The Spectator this week,

Later, the conversation roams unsparingly through officialdom and encroaching regulation (especially in the national curriculum), crass sloganeering and political unspeak (‘Tony Blair was a great bullshitter’), and ID cards: ‘I’d go to jail rather than have an identity card.’

And so say most of us. For a short but excellent take on ID cards, read Grayling’s question in October’s Prospect, Are ID cards either philosophically or pragmatically justifiable? His answer,

Emphatically no. A requirement for every citizen to carry a device that enables the authorities to demand immediate information about them dramatically changes the relationship of individuals to the state, from being private citizens to being numbered conscripts. An ID card or device (technology will rapidly supplant plastic cards because the latter are too easily lost or stolen) is a surveillance instrument, a tracking device, like a car number plate or the kind of tag punched into a cow’s ear.

And to make the point,

The main pushers of an identity surveillance system—the biometric data companies who stand to gain billions—tell us that the iris and fingerprint details that will link you to the computer that stores your address, medical records and so on can be stored on a chip the size of a full stop. This can be implanted in your earlobe, ostensibly to protect against loss or theft, and read by a device similar to a barcode reader. I asked David Miliband what the difference is between this and a number branded on your arm. His furious response was proof that I cut close to a nerve.

Mind the gap?

Yesterday evening at the Business Leaders Forum at Exeter University, and an interesting take on Generation Y by Richard Wyatt-Haines (you can find more on Mind the gap: managing and retaining your graduate entrants on his website). Our table (and it seems much of the audience) was not entirely persuaded. Is Generation Y so very different to the previous one, or the one before that (see my post on Graduate Divas)? My next door neighbour and I (both the same generation) decided that it was not Generation Y that was so different: we thought they were quite like our generation, but the one in between. What is different is the context, how life appears to be, although is what is happening in Tibet as I write so very different to what happened in Hungary in 1956 (I was four) and what happened in Czechoslovakia in 1968 (when I was 16)?