An interesting, perhaps trying, day in the office beckons…

It’s been a long time now since I was in an office with other people, nearly a year and a half, in fact, since we were told not to come back to the office as the COVID-19 pandemic took off last March. 

I was a mite daunted to begin with, as the idea of working at home was not something I’d ever particularly felt attracted to. But, with the launch of the various financial support schemes, I was kept busy enough, and it was quite satisfying to be of real help to people in need.

Spring turned to summer, summer turned to autumn, and still there was no prospect of a return to normal working. I did go into the office once, to clear my desk by appointment, as we were scheduled to transfer to a new office and it was necessary to retrieve my personal possessions. Apart from the cleaner and the security guard, I was entirely alone.

And strangely, I began to grow used to being, for all intents and purposes, alone in my workspace. We’re lucky in that, when I moved in with Ros, we replaced an old wooden workshop with a purpose built office, so my working conditions were probably a step up on what I had in St Clare House. I can listen to music - mostly chamber music and early music -  whilst I work without disturbing anyone, I’m not distracted by colleagues - I’m quite easily distracted, I fear - and I can bat ideas around in my head whilst attempting to determine how best to solve a problem. I do talk to myself out loud from time to time…

There are some disadvantages - you can’t throw problems into the air to see if your colleagues have useful and relevant experiences to share, for example - and I do have a great deal of respect for them and their abilities. And there are some things that really can’t be done outside of the office for reasons of data security.

On the other hand, having to rely more on your own judgement can build a sense of confidence as long as things are going well, and I think that I’ve benefitted in that sense. It’s hard sometimes to judge whether or not you’re a good fit in a role, especially one which by its very nature is likely to be confrontational sometimes, but when you’re effectively operating without the usual “safety net”, the apparent absence of problems suggests that you might be doing something right.

But I do feel that I’m becoming slightly less of a social animal. Or, perhaps more accurately, that I am more relaxed about not seeing other people (apart from Ros). I find people fascinating, but it feels these days although it’s sometimes on an almost academic level. I don’t care any less, and my commitment to my various communities remains strong, but the horizons in which I effectively operate seem to have shrunk somewhat.

Which brings me to tomorrow. Our new building is open, and we are required to attend an induction day to collect our new building pass and be told where everything is and how it works. We can’t return to work until this is safely navigated though, and so I’ll be in Ipswich at lunchtime for my turn.

I’m not wholly enthusiastic. It’s not that I’m fearful, for I’m a naturally cautious soul anyway, and have tended to adhere to both the spirit and the letter of Government guidance. It’s just that I’ve benefitted from the freedom that comes from working at home, and actually think that I’m more effective working in an environment which is liberating rather than one encouraging rather more conformity.

In fairness, I’m not being pressured to return to the office. I expect to spend one day a week there from mid-September, and probably two days a week from some time in October. Eventually, that may stretch to three days a week, but it’s not expected to go beyond that if the mood music is to be believed.

So, wish me luck. It’s going to be interesting…

Boris wants me to return to my office... again. I'm sorry to have to disappoint him...

In September, I wrote about the Government's suggestion that I return to my office. Admittedly, I thought that it was humorous, but no more than that. But now, Boris suggests that I should stop slacking - I paraphrase, although not that much.

Well, I wish him the best of luck with that.

Admittedly, in my case, I don't really have an office to return to - my old office closed on 28 February, and its replacement isn't ready to be occupied yet - but now that I am expected to work no more than three days in an office even after things return to "normal" (whatever that is), I'm beginning to reconcile myself to a rather different work/life balance.

I've now been working from home for over a year and it has had some interesting impacts. The obvious ones - the reduction of my commuting costs from £2,000 per annum to... nil has been very nice. The improved access to snacks and drinks is certainly welcome, and I've even managed to lose a few pounds against the apparent trend.

I can also schedule my day to get in a little light exercise - a brisk walk mid-morning or mid-afternoon gives me the space to run a few thoughts through my mind in terms of case strategy and prevents me from squinting at my Surface Pro too much - we're advised that we should take short, regular breaks to maintain our health, both physical and mental.

And, if I need to do something during the regular workday, I can slip away for a little while to do it, as long as the hours are made up either at the beginning of the day or at the end.

My employers are still fairly conservative in terms of the workday - roughly what one might describe as usual office hours - and that is one thing that hasn't really developed yet. You see, I'm not really a frontline employee, in that customers seldom call, or even write, and that leads to the question "does it really matter when I work, as long as I'm contactable by customers and my scheduled hours are worked?".

And that's an interesting point. Previously, I worked the hours I worked because of the availability of public transport and because that's when the building was open. You couldn't really get in before 7 a.m. and you had to leave before 7 p.m. because the alarm system was turned on. Working from home, I could theoretically wake up at 3 a.m. having had a eureka moment, go downstairs, walk across the patio to my home office, crank up the Surface Pro and draft a letter to an accountant or customer. I'm not saying that I would - I suspect that Ros would be less than impressed - but I could.

I am an owl, rather than a lark, and it might suit me, and my employer, if I operated when my brain operated more efficiently, rather than obliging me to fit an arbitrary schedule of their design. And yes, that would mean occasionally making appointments with customers and accountants to speak on the telephone or via video link but flexibility potentially benefits everyone.

And it enables my employer to use office space rather more efficiently, whilst improving our environmental impact through reduced travel.

It's not for everyone - many of my colleagues organise their lives around family and caring commitments and a predicable work schedule is probably easier to manage - but if the only things that matters are staff satisfaction and outcome delivery (and I think that the two are closely interrelated) then offering staff a greater degree of freedom in how they managing their work is likely to be a good thing.

But, going forward, I could envisage getting to the gym midweek when it's relatively quiet, using the commuting time saved to better effect, or slotting in an eye test at a convenient time, rather than having to have it at lunchtime or at the weekend. My employers get the time that they pay for and a better motivated employee, I get a decent work/life balance and everybody wins.

So, Boris, lay off with the snide comments about my workrate and productivity and give some thought as to how you can increase freedom by liberating people from the nine to five box, rather than sacrificing us at the altar of your commercial property owning mates.

"Don't stand, don't stand, don't stand so close to me..."

So, here we are, ten months into the pandemic, ten months since my gallant employers decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and sent me home whilst the situation blew out. Well, so much for that - I'm not expecting to be back in an office with other people until at least the Autumn.

And that's going to present some challenges. Now I haven't got as far as associating other people with death, but my appetite for crowds have never been great, and I've grown accustomed to keeping others at something rather more than arms length. But, at some point, life is probably going to return to something resembling what was normal, and I'm going to have to reconcile myself to commuting to and from a large building full of people whose aversion to risk might well not match my own.

It'll probably be alright, with the vaccination programme rolling out, but it will be difficult at first. Like most modern workplaces, HMRC likes open-plan layouts, with staff tightly packed together - efficient in cost terms but not necessarily conducive to concentration - and hot-desking to get even more value out of that space. Getting used to that, after what may be up to two years of working from an office across the patio from our home, will need to be a gradual, measured process.

And, if Covid-19 becomes endemic, like the common cold, it may simply not be practical to expect a bunch of middle-aged people like myself to operate in that way, even if we wanted to.

What that probably means is a hybrid form of working, where I appear occasionally, booking a desk as I need it, but otherwise staying in the Creetings, operating as HMRC Creeting St Peter. Perhaps I'll hang out a shingle - in accordance with the Departmental style guide, obviously.

Luckily, technology has moved with the times. Due to hot-desking, we don't use fixed computers, operating with Surface Pros instead, which allowed most of a large Government Department to go from office-based to home-based overnight, our letters are received at a central point and scanned there, and any letters we issue ourselves are sent through the ether to a large shed somewhere in the West Midlands where they are printed, enveloped and posted (which also allows bulk postage savings).

All of our guidance is online, there are experts on the other end of a team call, we don't have telephones - calls are made via Microsoft Teams and automatically forwarded to our official iPhones if we're not able to access our Surface Pros, and whilst our managers adapt to remote management, the distractions of workplace life are replaced with the challenge of self-motivation and isolation.

Things are never going to be the same again, are they?...

Is the urging back to our offices in any way altruistic?

I am a bureaucrat, thus my days are usually spent in an office, in a town centre location. I go for a walk at lunchtime every day, mostly to get my 10,000 steps a day, but occasionally to pick up the odd thing that I need - a loaf of bread, perhaps, or a birthday card, or a sandwich. At least, I did, until five months ago. I haven’t been back to my office since.

It has been an interesting time. Without the need to catch a community bus at about 7.45 every morning, I can sleep in a little and still start work at 8.30, and I can finish at 5 and make dinner, leaving time for an after dinner stroll around my village. I save a sizeable chunk by not having to commute, about 10% of my gross salary, some of which is spent on slightly higher utility bills, and extra groceries.

I can, if I prefer, work different patterns, depending on what I’m doing, or can break up the day into chunks, working say a four hour shift in the morning, taking a long lunch break, and working another four hour shift in the afternoon, if that suits. Think of it as an extended version of flexible working hours - my employer gets my time when I’m more motivated to work and I am thus, theoretically, more productive.

Richard Littlejohn and a bunch of other people whose views can usually be categorised as right-wing, believe that I should be “back at work”. Admittedly, most of us in the despised public sector never actually got furloughed - one of those nice tax officers helping people with their claims under the Job Retention Scheme and the Self-Employed Income Support Scheme is me, for example. His assumption, that if you’re not in the office, you’re not working, is pretty bloody offensive, if you ask me.

Of course, there are casualties. All of those outlets which exist to service office workers may well not survive and those that do will have to adjust. On the other hand, a lot of people working in the service sector can’t afford to live in, or even near, the inner city, and thus ironically are commuting to follow those working there. Potentially, that means that I might use a barber in Stowmarket or Needham Market instead of in Ipswich, or buy a sandwich there. Somebody will still need to cut my hair, or make my sandwich, but they won’t be commuting either and they can either reduce their prices to reflect their reduced overheads, or maintain prices and make greater profits.

And, if your livelihood depends on commercial property, you might have a bit of a problem. On the other hand, if you’re renting out office space by the hour, day or week, like WeWorks (for example), you might have more opportunities for business. Housing costs will be reduced if you really don’t need to live in expensive urban areas, and work-life balance is likely to be enhanced for many.

It isn’t a utopia. For some people, working from home is challenging. Creating a clear division between work and home is difficult if both are located in exactly the same space. Being in the same place as your loved ones all of the time can have an impact on relationships - we all need some personal space and time sometimes - and for those of whom see work as an escape from an otherwise dull or depressing life, the loss of that escape can lead to mental health issues.

Some will prefer the office existence, others will be happy to go in two or three days a week, varying on their personal circumstances. What it does offer is freedom and choice, two things that right-wing commentators are usually rather keen on. Clearly, it wasn’t the sort of choice and freedom they had in mind. Or, perhaps, the idea of freedom and choice was intended for them alone.

But, ultimately, a key decider of our working future is what is profitable or advantageous to our employers. If they see an advantage to having more staff working from home, be it in terms of reduced costs or higher productivity, they’ll probably encourage it, and all of the whining from the likes of Richard Littlejohn will have absolutely no effect.

[insert title here] - 20 October 2015

Happy anniversary, employer who shall not be named!

Amazing really, it's been twenty-nine years since I walked through the doors at [redacted] to start my first day as a [redacted]. Nowadays, of course, I'm not allowed to tell anyone what I do through the medium of this blog. However, I still enjoy what I do, even if the government would really rather wish I would expire before I can pick up my thoroughly deserved pension...


On this day... in 2010

I was discovering why Parish Councils seemed to be bound to cheques, rather than electronic banking, and actually being vaguely grateful to Grant Shapps. I must have been suffering from sunstroke at the time...


Perhaps it wasn't such a fluke after all...

Remember Ruth Ellen Brosseau? She was the assistant bar manager from Ottawa who managed to win a Quebec riding in the 2011 Canadian federal election for the New Democratic Party despite a) not speaking much French in an area where nearly 80% of the population don't speak English at all, b) not visiting the riding, c) spending nothing on her campaign and d) going on holiday to Las Vegas during the campaign.

Well, she went away, learnt to speak French fluently, and became a pretty good MP. The result, an increase in her vote and easy re-election yesterday, despite her party's decline nationally. Just goes to show, doesn't it?...

Sometimes, the art of good bureaucracy is broadly defining just what isn't there...

Today has been, in turns, frustrating and mildly exhilarating (actually, can you be mildly exhilarated?). Frustrating because, courtesy of Liberal Democrat Voice, I have been reminded that younger people can be reactionary, ageist and intolerant just as convincingly as older people. I've also spent forty-five minutes waiting for British Airways to answer what seemed, on the face of it, to be a pretty simple request, only for it to be made to appear like the height of optimism.

On the other hand, people close to me have had good news regarding their careers and, perhaps most surprisingly, I appear to finally have a grasp on my new(ish) job.

It would be harsh to say that I haven't been entirely happy in my current role. Bemused and slightly unsettled, yes, unhappy, no. After many years of bureaucracy in an environment where certainty is hard-wired into process, and backed up with legislation, I had grown deeply comfortable with the idea that, confronted with a new situation, I could come up with a definitive answer. As a liberal bureaucrat, that feels right, in that a rules-based environment is one in which good administration can flourish, as long as those rules have built-in safeguards and offer everyone equality before the law.

My new job, however, which I can't actually talk about, is more of an evaluating one. I am presented with a lot of data, and a range of operational tools with which to analyse it. It may, or may not be, complete, it may, or may not be, accurate. There is, if you like, uncertainty - definitely not in my comfort zone.

And so, it has been necessary to adapt. That's easier said than done - I'm not as young as I was, and increasingly set in my slightly idiosyncratic ways, and I respond less well to direct philosophical challenges than perhaps I once did. It has not come easily. The challenge, if you like, has been to put it into a context which sits comfortably and yet allows me to be as effective as I can be.

But, this week, things have fallen into place. In our half-yearly performance assessment, my manager declared her puzzlement that I see my work as a logic problem, feeling as she does that there doesn't have to be an exact answer - often, there can't be. What you can achieve, she believes, is a position where you have an argument that stands up to rigorous, independent scrutiny if necessary.

That makes sense, I think, but appals my inner control freak. And so, I have dwelt on what she said, and carried out some analysis on some of the data sets requiring my attention as a means of developing a modus operandi that sits more comfortably. Interestingly, I'm not sure that I agree exactly with her analysis, but have realised that there is a way in which I can achieve a similar result.

You see, if I can establish all of the areas of certainty, I can then define the area of uncertainty in terms of a series of expressed doubts, which can then be queried by means of interrogation and, if necessary, testing of hypotheses. There is, if you like, an internal logic which might not provide for exactitude, but does produce an 'exactly about' outcome which feels fair and reasonable.

It was, if you like, that light bulb moment, a realisation that this feels right and good and philosophically sound, not something that most people would associate with bureaucracy, but then, perhaps, I'm not your typical bureaucrat...

The exquisite torture of exams is at an end...

I have, for more than a year now, been in training for my new role, the one I can't talk about here. It has been surprisingly stressful, with four sets of examinations to pass, a library of reading material to absorb and more homework exercises than I can remember. However, it is now pretty much over, as I received the news that I had passed the final set of exams on Friday.

It is a strange feeling having survived, having lived with the unnerving knowledge that, if any exam is failed twice, your promotion is withdrawn and you are returned to your old job - even more troubling in my case as mine was subsequently abolished.

I've been thrown together with a group of strangers for the duration of my studies, gathering every week or fortnight to pool our mutual bewilderment and confusion and to share the delight or dejection of individual exam passes or fails. Over the months, we've developed friendships, encouraged each other, even occasionally drowned our sorrows together. It's been fun - well, mostly - and I've learned from the experience.

And now, we go our separate ways, tasked with... Actually, I can't say, but I have every confidence that they will do my employers proud.

So, wish us luck - you'll want us to succeed!