Oink! Oink!

Aside from surprise at a quite staggering level of self regard, what struck me most in yesterday’s FT article Thames Water chief defends bonus amid plan for hefty bill increases (paywalled) was Chris Weston’s reported remark that ‘Thames “needed to be able to attract the best talent to the company”.’

I think most customers of Thames Water would be happier if what Thames really needed to do was its job properly. . .

. . . rather than find yet more little piggies.

A new world for the NHS

One of my favourite stories about my late and much loved mother-in-law involved her asking a CPSO (Community Police Support Officer) whether he was a “real policeman”?

Obviously no.

So reading about the government’s latest wheeze to address the entirely avoidable shortage of doctors (and nurses and NHS managers), I thought . . . Well, you’ll know what I thought.

Thank heavens for Boy (and Girl) Scouts . . .

O, wad Some power the gift gie us . . .

How we see ourselves takes up a lot of time and column inches. It is necessary – and occasionally challenging – to read the view of others.

Richard Wolffe in his piece in today’s Guardian, Oh, Britain: the chasm between myth and reality keeps on growing, nails it

Today the Brits are worried they look like Italians, with new prime ministers every few months or weeks.

In fact they should be worried they look like Austrians, sitting in a jewel-encrusted museum piece at the heart of a once-great empire, arguing among themselves about nationalists and immigrants.

British prime ministers used to come and go like vintage wines. Every few years there might be a classic. Now they come and go like utility bills: painful and entirely forgettable.