The hazy days of a summer long gone
Back in the day I once worked with Simon, my immediate boss who was something of a fish out of water – an unworldly accountant, debuting in the crazy world of television, who suffered a degree of difficulty in accepting the norms of an industry that didn’t really have any.
Because the programme-making department was a law unto itself it has been decreed that we would operate beyond the control of the central Personnel (in the 21st Century “Human Resources”) equivalent whose remit otherwise covered all employment matters for the rest of the organisation.
Industrial relations being a constant thorny issue the system required that we had to take advise from Personnel whenever conducting negotiations with the technicians union, a set-up that could have formed the basis of a surreal but hilarious “How To …” book, if not a film.
On one occasion, pay negotiations having reached an impasse, we were about to enter another series of talks against a background in which the CEO had decreed that any increase in pay must be self-financing.
A pre-meeting was arranged with Personnel to discuss and agree our strategy before we went into bat.
Simon, whose keen intelligence was neutralised somewhat by his lack of common sense, began it by outlining his strategy for the coming battle.
This boiled down to a departure from the convoluted way in which the company historically conducted its pay talks, a process which was funereally-slow and largely consisted of threat and counter-threat for months, punctuated by occasional trips to ACAS whenever talks stalled.
Instead (he announced) he was simply going to tell the union negotiators that they could have as big a percentage pay rise as they liked, but only on condition that in return they ‘gave up’ whatever number and nature of their infamous antediluvian working practices that – in terms of total cost savings – would provide us with the means to pay for it.
The collective body language and stunned ‘white as a sheet’ look of horror from the other side of the table upon the faces of our various personnel and industrial relations colleagues at Simon’s zany but dripping-with-inescapable-logic proposal had to be seen to be believed but, dear reader, will remain with me to my death bed. At the time it was all I could do to strain every sinew in my body to stop myself bursting out with hysterical laughter.
Once decorum had been restored, Simon and I were lectured at length about the ‘proper’ way to begin negotiations which would include us stating that our opening pay offer was also our final.
This was too much for Simon, who exploded into a rant that might have come direct from Joseph Heller’s classic novel Catch 22 or the original Airplane movie [what follows may not be entirely word-for-word accurate but it conveys the gist]:
“I’m sorry, there is no way I’m doing that. Look Peter [he being the head of personnel and industrial relations] – let’s be honest – this company’s record of industrial relations is pathetic and frankly unacceptable.
I’m going to try something different – and yes, it’s a bit left-field. Instead of proceeding as we’ve done in the past – and spending the best part of a year going nowhere – I’m going to tell them the truth. And why? I’ll tell you why.
If we tell them our first offer is our final one, it’s a lie. They know it’s not our final offer. WE know it’s not our final offer. Both sides know that it is just our first ‘final offer’ – and there’ll be many more to come. So let’s break that ridiculous cycle and just be honest. I know this might be an anathema to those of you who live in the past, and maybe to the unions too – but, take it or leave it, that’s what we’re going to do …”
As it happens, they didn’t take it.
Later that same week, Simon and I were summoned to see the CEO, who was not in a sunny mood.
Let’s just say that after a lively and animated conversation, the CEO laid the law down and told us to proceed as per the company’s historical procedure, whereupon Simon announced – I thought bravely but perhaps foolhardily – that he would have to ‘consider his position’:
“… You see, Tony – the thing is that I have both my good points and my bad points and, when you hire Simon, you get both …”
Poor Simon didn’t have long to consider his position. The CEO considered it for him. At the end of the month he departed the company and I was appointed to replace him.
It’s a funny old world.
On this still very early Christmas Day morning – it is pitch black outside as I type – for some reason I was reminded of the above episode.
I haven’t see Simon for over a quarter of a century but I wonder where he is today. With luck he’ll be enjoying a thumpingly-special festive season surrounded by his loving family.
I do hope so.