I wrote a very sternly worded letter today. This may come as no surprise to any of you, given that I am both opinionated and English. Of course, it is 2023, and we are well snuggled into the bosom of the age of the robot. So, it was not a letter, but an email. Still, there is a lovely sense of satisfaction in knowing the delicately enraged missive will pop up in somebody’s inbox the very moment you press “send”. Within seconds, you can easily pass your rage onto somebody else and then await their anger in return. Wonderfully efficient.
Today’s target? My workplace Facilities team. As I work at a University, postmodern posturing and grovelling is of the utmost importance. Tackling “Queerphobia” - yes, an actual word used by actual professional adults in an actual policy, destroying systemic racism by begging people of particular colours to apply for particular jobs, and of course, tackling the Climate Emergency (Climate Change didn’t make enough people sh*t their pants, clearly, so the Propaganda Level has had to be increased) are all high on the agenda.
On the 31st of August, we received an email from Facilities telling us that in order to “tackle the Climate Emergency”, car parking prices would increase, and Automatic Number Plate cameras would be used. Staff who purchase a set of paper tickets, known as “scratch cards”, which work out cheaper for most of us than an annual Staff Permit if you only work on campus once a week will not be allowed to park in the car park by our building. Our building sits on its own campus a 15-20 minute walk away from main campus. Guest passes will also be banned from our usually half-empty car park.
The unexplained idea wafting around the email, was that if the University makes it sufficiently difficult for us employees to park, we might be motivated to stop killing the planet, and we might take a bus, or even better, stay well away from our offices.
Never mind the often less than suitable bus provision, or the fact that most of us part-timers with scratch cards work those hours because we’re fitting it around raising kids, who we need to drop off at nurseries that may or may not be on the bus route, never mind that guests lecturers/course helpers will have to pay much more for parking.
Never mind that the Powers That Be asked us all to come back to campus as much as possible post-lockdowns because it’s bloody depressing when it’s a ghost town, and students don’t want to pay £9K and up to come to a campus with no life to it.
Never mind that we are essentially being slapped with either a financial penalty or a time/distance penalty for having the temerity to work part time and drive - the nearest car park we can still (for now) use with our dirty paper tickets is a good 10 minute walk uphill from the office. Alright, half the time it’s a 10 minute walk downhill, that’s not the point. Never mind the extra difficulty that places on people with mobility problems (we’re so inclusive, we’ve recently celebrated Disability Pride Month according to some she/theys in HR, so no extra thought is needed).
Never mind that the ANPR cameras are invasive and snooping. I visited a relative at hospital recently and found the car park there had ANPR> When you went to pay at a machine (of course, no people) you were treated to a lovely and surprisingly clear photograph of you arriving in your car. “Is this your car?” asks the machine. “Is that really your posture?” it asks, frowningly. “You should really sit up straighter, you shouldn’t slump like that.” The photograph only showed the bottom half of my face (the better half, in my view) and a fairly clear shot of my torso and arms. Thankfully, I’ve got pretty good breasts, so the photo didn’t look too bad, otherwise I’d have been really upset by the total violation of privacy when visiting a sick loved one. And all to make sure that a few people can’t get away with either not paying, or handing tickets to another visitor when there’s time left on it.
So, I wrote a rather displeased email, outlining my concerns, and expressing my lack of belief in the Uni Administration’s declared motivation, as did many others in my department. It may make a difference, it may not. I may end up blacklisted, rather annoying when one is working on a short-term project. Ah well.
Every day I look around and I see more digital surveillance creeping in, seemingly consented to by the simple act of our own compliance. Several miles of roads in my area have quickly and quietly been lined with tall, yellow, hideous average speed cameras. We were not asked about this. The Authorities decided that we must be watched along every inch of road, even on the country lanes. Children in my county, and I presume others too, are being made to use their fingerprints to log in to systems at school, their parents apparently accepting this as normal. More and more businesses are turning away cash in favour of digital payments - this is part of my workplace’s parking update too, day tickets can now only be purchase via app, and f*ck you if you can’t get a signal out here in the countryside.
What does it take? Where does it end? I’ve an awful feeling that it won’t end, and the screws will tighten until we’re nothing more than pulp. Either way, I suspect that more than strongly worded letters will be needed, although the English in me hates to think it. There are of course, a number of acts of civic disobedience that require no damage or violence. Use cash; demand businesses and banks continue to use cash. Talk to other parents, talk to your schools’ administrations about privacy concerns. Consider your educational options. Protest, make the people in charge uncomfortable. Don’t give them a free ride.
I need to learn to be braver. Perhaps we can learn together.
In the meantime, please accept Patsy Stone articulating my feelings every time I witness yet another encroachment on my privacy and autonomy:
Where will it end? Probably severe restrictions on movement. We all know something got let out of the bag during the fake pandemic. Groups of people who got their moment and could order us all about. They haven't went away and most work in the public sector.
They'll soon be scanning retinas, assuming you are even allowed out. Obviously if you've had too much gin or eaten too many chips this week you'll be confined to barracks. And if you use the wrong pronouns with your kids you'll get shot.
The one glimmer of hope is incompetence. Governments aren't very good at implementing anything.
That said, Londoners are making short work of the cameras around London. So there is hope.
I loved this!! 😂