Travelling Post-Brexit

Ever since Brexit, I’ve had to have my passport stamped in and out of European countries. It’s like a reversion to the days when I got my first British passport. That was back in the late 70s.  It has a frighteningly youthful picture. Occupation – student.

I’m not so phased by the coming changes to European Union (EU) border controls. Naturally, it’s worth asking if Britian has become a more dangerous nation since the time before Brexit when we enjoyed freedom of movement. It’s a pity we didn’t value that freedom a lot more. It was thrown away far too easily.

Today, the electronic border controls expect us to stare at a camera. A securely held, I hope, database is used to check a list of biometric numbers against my image. I guess that’s a sure-fire way of saying that Mr Blogs is indeed someone who looks very much like Mr Blogs. Facial recognition technology has come a long way.

The next steps in tightening-up controls will be fingerprinting[1]. Not in the manner of Sherlock Holmes, with an ink pad. No, in the digital age an ominous machine will scan our fingers and check its records to see that not only does Mr Blogs look as he should but that he’s got the essential characteristics of Mr Blogs.

Certainly, in this new regime British citizens will not be able to overstay in European countries. Ones travel records will be a lot more quantifiable and precise than stamping a piece of paper. That is assuming such digital border control machines will be relatively error free.

One of the benefits of Brexit is that it will be easier to track the movements of British criminals in and out of the EU. The reciprocal will not be true. It will not be easier for British authorities to track continental European criminals in an out of the UK.

Ah the luxury of being a Third Country. Longer ques. More uncertainty. Less privileges.

What’s more is the introduction of the new EU border control systems will be “phased[2]”. This change will not be one big bang. So, different ports and airports will be doing different things at different times. Now, it doesn’t take a genius to see that confusion is most likely.

Travelling in 2025 is going to be more than the usual adventure.


[1] https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/the-eu-entry-exit-system-and-eu-travel-authorisation-system/

[2] https://www.independent.co.uk/travel/news-and-advice/eu-biometric-border-fingerprint-entry-delay-b2627645.html

Safety Defined

I found myself saying the words: “the fundamentals remain the same”. A nice phrase that promotes the idea that there are some bedrock ideas that are immune from the winds of change. It’s as easy as saying that 2 plus 2 will always equal 4. Except I wasn’t taking about a mathematical relationship. A traditional set of rules that are so established that it becomes incredibly difficult to think differently. That is unless I get terribly esoteric and argumentative about what do we mean by plus and equals.

Safety is freedom from harm. That’s one of the simplest definitions of “safety”. Simplicity has merit but there’s one or two weaknesses in that basic definition. Although, it’s one that I’m happy to use. It communicates well. Theres a lot to be said for brevity.

The human condition is such that we are never ever free from potential harm. Such is the sheer complexity of our situation that the combinations and permutations of stuff that can harm us is immense. Every tiny cell in our bodies is doing something that it needs to get right. Yet, we exist relatively healthily with a myriad of flaws. Unfortunately, or fortunately, our awareness of the flaws that can harm us is often non-existent. Perhaps we have the freedom of ignorance.

Safety is freedom from harm with these caveats. Generally, even invoking the word “safety” implies that the stuff that can harm us is substantial and tangible. It’s something we might know and understand. Likewise, the word “harm” in this context doesn’t mean trivial or non-consequential actions. It’s something undesirable where effort would be made to avoid.

To compound my kicking away at what seems like a perfectly reasonable simple definition, the well-known dictionaries who publish their wisdom each have different variations on a theme.

Each definition has at least two parts for the abstract noun “safety”. Yes, it doesn’t have a physical form, in of itself but “safety” is a condition. The negative stuff to be avoided comes up as harm, danger, hurt, damage, injury, death, loss, and even risk. The act of avoidance of a negative outcome comes up as a condition of being free or protected.

Another dimension not explicitly mentioned in the common definitions is the dynamic nature of safety. It is not a static condition. Theoretically, the transition from a safe to an unsafe condition can take an infinite number of paths. In reality, some pathways are more probable than others.

This is where the discussion moves away from grammar to the substantial experience of safety. It’s locked into our thinking, and not often expressed that the dynamic nature of the subject means that probabilities always come to bare.

Today, I may not be the least bit concerned that a meteor would crash through the roof of my house without warning and injure me. That is even if I am not entirely free of the possibility of such an event happening. I will take the possibility of tripping on a loose stair carpet much more seriously. Both safety jeopardising events are possible but one is more probable than the other.

Next, I come to what’s conceivable and what’s not. In a universe of an infinite number of possibilities there are lots that are just plain inconceivable. The meteor case above is conceivable. Governments take practical actions to monitor space rocks.

Even to speak of something that is inconceivable is stretching the boundaries of our imaginations. It’s often taken as obvious that certain threats are out of bounds. Yet, the inconceivable occasionally happens and our boundaries are thus expanded. A pilot chooses to fly a perfectly airworthy aircraft into a mountain. As we know it has happened.

I’ll stop here. What’s clear is that a simple definition isn’t simple at all.

Navigating Heights

If I were to explain, the reasoning would go like this. It’s good to have a vivid imagination. As an engineer, it’s essential to be able to create a mental picture of what’s happening. But there’s a downside. Looking at a situation and seeing more than is there, opens the door to imagining all sorts of scenarios that are unlikely.

I’m talking about that experience of peering over a cliff edge to see what’s there. Curiosity being a strong urge. Then pulling back in fright of falling. Often when the ground is solid and safe. Often when nothing more than a spark in the imagination creates an unreasonable fear of falling. The fleeting image I have in mind is looking down at Beachy Head Lighthouse[1].

I have a curious relationship with hights. No, I’m not terrified of heights. It’s just that now and then that fear of falling does kick in. This feeling could be embedded or learnt from an early age. My mother tells a story of me as a toddler being halfway up a ladder. Sacring her. Me being oblivious to any danger and coming to no harm. Growing up on a family farm there was innumerable hazards around every corner.

One of the riskier things was to climb up the haybarn roof. This was an open steel framed structure spanning several bays. Corrugated sheets made up its roof. In the UK, we call these buildings a Dutch barn. This mostly refers to the curved shape of the roof. From the top of the barn, it was possible to see the whole farmyard.

Last week, I hiked around the Caldera de Taburiente on La Palma. I learnt that the term caldera has Spanish origins. So, I was in the right place to assess any fear of hights that might linger in my psyche. The Caldera de Taburiente is more than 2000 m deep.

Even the roughly hewn paths, some restored from local landslides, didn’t phase me. It’s as if, because I was one of thousands who have passed the same way, the dangers where contained. In fact, there were not. Some of the well-worn slippery stones underfoot had to be approached with a great deal of caution. Loose rocks and sheer drops had to be navigated with care.

The Caldera de Taburiente National Park is a magical place. It has a Jurassic Park feel about the place. Given that it’s not much more than a few million years old the place is far to youthful for dinosaurs. It has its own special natural beauty.

My aging but persisting vivid imagination had plenty to occupy itself as we climbed and descended in and out of the park. The whole hike was about 16 km. This was the second time I’d taken this circular route. What surprised me was the hard parts of the climb and decent following a riverbed on the way out. That part I’d conveniently forgotten.

No, I’m not terrified of heights when there’s solid ground underfoot. They do however have the capacity to scare or at least summon up a lot of extra care. I hope that inbuild sense of self-preservation never fails me.


[1] https://www.beachyheadlighthouse.co.uk/

I’m Mandy

It’s something to ague about. My view is that pop songs don’t have to have “official” meanings. If you listen to a song and it means something to you then there’s no point in arguing with someone else about what it means. Well, not much point other than the pure fun of it.

That doesn’t stop an argument. It’s like answers to quiz questions. There’s that strong desire to be the one with the right answer. With a song it’s not so easy to be literally right or wrong. There may be clues left by the song writers or a generally excepted interpretation. It’s not a subject to place major bets on. There’s likely to be no definitive answer.

This week, I popped into a small shop that is full of retro bric-a-brac. In one corner there’s a display of second-hand vinyl records. 45s and LPs nicely arranged in alphabetic order. I find it fascinating what’s fashionable, and thus pricy, and what’s not. This trendy little shop aims at a student market. What caught my eye is an album from the band 10cc[1] from 1976. It has a colourful fold-out album cover which is a story in of itself. It’s a real photographic artwork. And strangely profound in the age of the mobile phone. Lots of people holding telephone handsets.

“How Dare You![2]” is an immensely creative but almost incoherent jumble of wandering songs. It’s a kind of progressive rock music exposé but much more popular, in the sense of pop. And in its time, it did well for the band, giving them two charting singles from the album. It’s a 70s vinyl masterpiece that will not be entirely lost and forgotten.

10cc is part of my student history. From what I could see from the price, it’s not so fashionable with today’s students. In good condition, for £5, I was more than happy to spend my hard-earned cash. At the till, the young lad who was minding the shop took one look at the album cover and asked: do you mind if I take a photo of that? We both agreed that streaming music is fine but there’s something more satisfying about handing physical artwork like this album cover. It’s tangible. It’s real. It’s an artifact.

The most notable song on the album is “I’m Mandy, fly me”. What is known about 10cc and their song “I’m Mandy, fly me” is that it was kicked off by a National Airlines poster. Like so many American airlines, National got swallowed-up and those who swallowed them up suffered the same fate. But in the 70s they were going strong. What they will be remembered for is that one of their publicity stunts caused controversy. It’s the sort of situation that kicked-off protests and rightly so.

In the early 70s, to sell their long-haul seats National’s posters ran a slogan saying: “I’m (flight attendant’s name). Fly me.”. The sexist nature of the advertising slogan got heavily criticised. These airline posters must have been up in Manchester, UK. Enough for seeing them to inspire 10cc to write the song “I’m Mandy, fly me”[3].

What’s it about? I think it’s pure imagination. Wandering a street, seeing the poster and going off on a fanciful muse. In my view it’s not literal. There is no plane crash. The fantasy is that the flight attendant in the poster rescues the singer from the dullness of everyday Manchester. After a few moments he snaps out of it, realises that he’s been daydreaming, and life carries on.


[1] https://www.10cc.world/

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_Dare_You!_(album)

[3] https://genius.com/10cc-im-mandy-fly-me-lyrics

Ethics of Medication

I don’t know about you but the whole idea of medicating people to increase the prosperity of society has a terrible echo of the worst kind of politics. Now, if we change the “p” word to protection of society, a policy of medication might make some reasonable sense. The COVID pandemic taught use that individual freedoms are not absolute. We know that allowing people to spread infection, whenever their personal beliefs, can kill other people. Reckless actions did exposed people to danger. Big name politicians did some dam stupid stuff just because they wanted to side with those who believed irrational, unscientific nonsense.

A UK Labour Health Minister saying that obese people would benefit from a jab so that they can get back to work makes me feel uneasy. It’s one thing to recognise that society has a problem with obesity but it’s entity another for the States to impose medication on specific groups of citizens. Expensive new medication that that.

I know it can be argued that the cost of obesity to the National Health Service (NHS) is high so there’s no zero cost answer. Having hammered down smoking deaths over decades of work it’s now obesity that’s the great societal challenge. The line between personal freedoms and social demands can be a fuzzy one.

The jab in question may have become fashionable as a weight loss aid[1]. That doesn’t justify a UK Minister, with all the power of the State, suggesting that overweight people be put on a regime of injections. And if they say “no” to the regime then be penalised in some vague manner.

It’s known that these new weight loss drugs have side effects. No everyone can take them without consequences. These drugs should only be used under medical supervision. That said, many people do take them without recourse to advice from a doctor.

To the Minister I say, don’t ague about the cost to the economy of obese people. Please ague for helping people to make weight management work for them as individuals. Obese people are not one amorphous mass of idle slobs who sit on the sofa all day. The Daily Mail characterisation of bludgeoning swarms of people burdening society with their indolent ways may chime with populists and the emerging Conservative Party. It’s no way for a Labour Minister to address a live challenge. 

National proposals to give unemployed obese people a jab to get them back to work has a ghastly ring to it. Yes, it’s not saying we (society) should send them down the salt mines but when the economic argument is the top one it does dehumanise the target audience.

Weight loss jabs may continue to have potential befits for many people. Let’s say that we are talking about health benefits, so that individuals can play their role in our society, whatever that role might be. State officials who attempt bring shame on people living with obesity, that’s just plain nasty.


[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c981044pgvyo

Art and Emotion

Daily writing prompt
Who are your favorite artists?

Nice question. I can’t put one artist above all others. It’s a ridiculous question to ask. Not only that but as the days go by my likes and dislikes shift like sand on a beach. It’s not as if I am wholly inconsistent. It’s that moods and emotions move. Intangible criteria are not fixed in time and space. Top that with constantly learning about works that are either new or previously mysteries to me. The questions are never ending.

For a start, my thoughts instantly go to the visual arts. What image has had such an impact on me that I want to keep going back to it? In going down that road I’ve not considered dance, music or literature. Is one medium more important than all the rest? Of course not.

Although, I cannot forget seeing German artist Katharina Fritsch big blue chicken (cock) in London, it’s her Mouse and Man[1] in Dusseldorf that sticks in my mind. Now that’s potent.

I think David Hockney[2] is oversold but I wish I could paint like him. His brush dances. Forget his portrayal of people it’s the forest, the trees, the country lanes that hit me the most.

Edward Hopper[3] is a master of scenes placing people in situation that are mundane but are far from dull. Transforming the ordinary into the exceptional.

I’d be mad if I didn’t mention Vincent van Gogh[4]. So many great images to choose from. In this case I’ll go to his Irises. I do enough gardening to spend time looking at flowers. Capturing the vibrance of nature so that the life force of the flower cascades off the painting, now that’s magic.

Caspar David Friedrich is on my list. I saw “Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog” on display at Hamburg’s Kunsthalle. It’s an often-used image. Put aside the corruptions, the original has a message that says to me – there’s always something beyond what you can see.

And that’s just a 10 minute list.


[1] https://www.iainmasterton.com/image/I00006p4TTPTNQtE

[2] https://www.hockney.com/index.php/works/digital/arrival-of-spring-woldgate

[3] https://www.gettyimages.fr/photos/edward-hopper-paintings

[4] https://www.vangoghgallery.com/painting/irisesindex.html

Illusion of Sovereignty

Desperate for something to say because their arguments have been shot down in flames, those who continue to support Brexit raise the subject of sovereignty. It’s as big a red herring as you are likely to find. That said, the notion of complete autonomy does have a resonance with one part of the political class.

One example of reality being different from political rhetoric is one I regularly see. I’m driving more than I have done in a while. Mostly, on the M4, M3 and M25 motorways. In this country some freight goes by rail, but the overwhelming amount of freight goes by road.

A sign of our times has been the construction of massive warehouses close to motorway junctions. Strategic non-motorway routes too. I do mean massive steel sheds. Counting the number of football fields covered by these structures doesn’t help. I’ll bet some of them can been seen from space.

Back to the British roads. 6-wheelers, 8-wheelers, 12-wheelers, big heavy trucks often showing the wear and tear from journeying great distances depend on the motorway system. A constant flow of heavy goods moves day and night.

Looking at the trucks, some have UK registration plates, some have UK registration plates thrown over their original plates. Most drive under the registration plates of a country of origin or wherever their commercial operations are based. Each plate tells a story. LT is Lithuania. PL is Poland. H is Hungary. NL is Netherlands. D is Germany.

So, every day we have tens of thousands of trucks maintained and operated to standards set by the European Union (EU) on our roads. They are left-hand-drive. Their speedometers are in kilometres per hour.

It occurs to me – what does “sovereignty” mean when everyday looks like a day driving?

For sure, no British inspector checks the condition of each one of these trucks on a regular basis. For sure, truck driver’s hours are only occasionally checked. For sure, maintenance records are locked away in a filing cabinet.

In the world of absolute sovereignty none of this should be allowed. In fact, much of the above-described transport operations are continuing as they did before Brexit but with extra paperwork attached. Extra costs.

It’s an observation. It’s easily made when stuck between a couple of heavy goods vehicles on the motorway. Pragmatism may have led to a blind eye being turned to reality. We shouldn’t delude ourselves that Brexit has delivered anything useful in this respect.

Rain and Life

Rain is inevitable. Rain is perpetual. Rain is ingrained in the fabric of life. Britain is a series of islands that’s buffeted by the winds that sweep across the Atlantic. Not always but mostly. 

We complain about it. We lament it when there’s not enough. We are shaped by it.  If ever there was a better sign of what’s called “small talk” it’s to talk about the weather. Having a conversational default like this one is deeply embedded in our culture.

The line to draw is one between the “normal” amount of rain and the periods when the torrents seem almost biblical. Record breaking is a talking point. Can’t ignore it.

According to the Met Office[1], Berkshire, where I am, received 3 times its average September rainfall. Southern England had its wettest September since 1918, and its 3rd wettest on record in a series from 1836.

Natural variations are to be expected. Afterall, what would there be to talk about if the only thing to say is that the weather is the same as yesterday, or last week. That is the fate of people in some parts of the world. No such predictability for our northern hemisphere islands. Up at above 50 degrees of latitude we see a moderate variation in almost everything.

The key word there being “moderate”. Months that are as wet as this past September, do impact the regular cycles of the seasons. Generally, it’s been warm too. I can’t help thinking it’s been a good year to be a tree. Roots have had a lot to soak up whenever the need arises.

Is what’s happening an indication of climate change? I’m not going to be the one to put my hand up on that one. I suspect that a greater degree of variation in the weather is a broader factor.

For the farming calendar this year has already been a strange one. Almanacks that tell you when to reap and sow might need revisiting. Whether cows will need to develop webbed feet or horded of ducks take over, I’ll leave that to the imagination.

For me, since January, living near a river has become a source of curiosity. Luckily our house is many meters above the worst-case scenario for a sustained flood. The river runs fast. It’s a chalk stream. What’s interesting is that its level is highly dependent upon the degree of soaking that the surrounding land has received. Just now, the green fields around are like sponges that are nearing their capacity. I’m sure, that’s unusual for early Autumn.


[1] https://www.metoffice.gov.uk/about-us/news-and-media/media-centre/weather-and-climate-news/2024/record-breaking-rainfall-for-some-this-september

Changing Political Landscapes

You can tell the type of person I am. I occasionally stop for a morning coffee in Gail’s[1]. Overall, I favour cafe Nero. Better coffee. An Italian vibe. That said, the expanding up-market bakery has a pleasant ambience. They are taking over and restoring the more regal old bank buildings of the High Street. Britain’s national banks have long since moved out.

In the last 9-months, I’ve moved from a town that had both, to a town that until recently had only one. It wasn’t my influence, but a Gail’s has opened a new shop in recent weeks. Post election, I might add. I’ve moved from a Conservative town to one that is no longer a Conservative town.

Anyway, there I was doing a bit of lunchtime shopping in Waitrose. It has a small cafe in one corner of the supermarket. Stopped for a ham, egg and chips and a flat white coffee. On a rack on the wall is a display of daily newspapers. I’m pleased to say that there’s a weekly local newspaper there too.

The Times and The Daily Mail are there for the delight of their customers. Two national newspapers that I am not going to spend my hard-earned cash on unless I’m desperate for something to read. Both tabloids aimed at a broadly conservative readership. 

The Mail is serialising the writings of former Prime Minister Boris Johnson. No doubt he’s getting an astonishing amount of money for his latest scribblings. Journalism was his calling.

To sell a book about political life the book certainly mustn’t be boring. Charity shops are littered with shelves of books from long forgotten personalities. My observation is that Johnson has taken aim at an audience that still thinks of him as a worthy premier.

I couldn’t resist. Had to speed read the parts that spilled the beans. The parts that dug the dirt. The revelations. Except that’s not what I read in speech bubble paragraphs. First off, I was remined of The Beano[2]. The world’s longest-running comic for children. Johnson’s language assumed my reading age to be about 12-years old. A jolly wizard wheeze ticking-off those fancy pants or misery guts who haunted his days in power. Apart from saving the known universe his anecdotes were mostly to the detriment of the people mentioned. One exception being his dad.

In a moment of reflection, it’s astonishing that Johnson once led this great country. He led London too. What on earth were we thinking? How did it happen? One or two more serious books have gone down that road. I was recommended to read “Johnson at 10 by Anthony Seldon[3].” By the way, you can tell the type of person I am. Earlier in the year, that book suggestion came from the person standing next to me, wating to go into the BBC Proms at the Royal Albert Hall.


[1] https://gails.com/

[2] https://shop.beano.com/

[3] https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/may/24/johnson-at-10-by-anthony-seldon-and-raymond-newell-review-the-great-pretender

Why the UK Should Rejoin

Fine, I’m happy to admit that my march, with thousands of others, through the streets of London on Saturday was not everyone’s cup of tea. There are a lot of people who support the idea of a return to European Union (EU) membership but are reluctant to raise the issue just now.

Often cited is the wave of right-wing politicians who are gaining ground in Europe’s larger countries. It’s as if they are going through their own Brexit like political moment but without anyone of any consequence advocating throwing away their EU membership.

Maybe the UK is ahead in this respect. We’ve been through the confusion and turbulence of the political right-wing eccentrics moment in the sun. They were never mainstream. However, they did hold the reins of power for some disastrous years. Thank God they are now behind us.

I have marched year-after-year because it’s the right thing to do. Tens of thousands from all over the UK have done the same as me. Millions if the numbers added-up from 2016 onward. Our future can be based on cooperation and mutual interests. Ideologically driven conflict and disruption have brought nothing but a lose – lose outcome.

So, what are the arguments for the rejoin movement? It’s all very well to shout at the thing we don’t like. Now, is the time to make the sound solid arguments for the thing we favour.

Let’s take trade for a start. The last UK Government wallowed in gushes of self-praise every time they signed an agreement with any country that was not European. Conservative Members of Parliament wanted to tower over the world like imperial overseers. It was an illusion.

Most of the so called “new” deals that were signed were simply a rollover that meant no change. In fact, more was given away than was gained. All in a desperate attempt to show progress. British farming was effectively shafted by Ministers.

One of the most touted possible “streets paved with gold[1]” was the prospect of a super new trade deal with the United States (US). Under President Trump, the prospect of an advantageous UK-US trade deal was an illusion.

Ironically, a claimed success was the joining of a regional trade block. I know it’s crazy that leaving a gigantic trade block on the UK’s doorstep was followed by joining one covering the Pacific. Yes, the other side of the world. Not only that but the projected gains are minuscule.

EU membership offers, as it did before, access to enormous trade benefits by comparison with what has been achieved since 2016. The numbers speak for themselves.

If the new Labour Government continues with a form of the fibs told during the “Get Brexit Done” phase, then trouble lies ahead. Next door, the UK has the world’s largest trading block. The value to the British economy of Single Market membership exceeds a mishmash of remote and small deals. There’s a positive way forward and it’s staring us in the face.

POST: It’s worth noting that the 1960 European Free Trade Association (EFTA ) was created, to promote free trade and economic integration included: Austria, Denmark, Norway, Portugal, Sweden, Switzerland and the United Kingdom.


[1] https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/streets-are-paved-with-gold