I never thought I'd say this...

The Brits have the longest working hours of any western so-called civilisation. And yet we also have one of the lowest productivities per head in the same peer group. Therefore our productivity per hour is rock bottom.

So why does it appear that we're so busy?

My belief, having observed a number of companies both here and abroad, is that we are busy doing nothing much productive. We work on the wrong things. We do a lot of things for show rather than profit, we are allergic to good process and we're basically a nation of jobsworths.

Not us of course. Anyone who joins in here in massively productive and positively holding up the economy single-handedly. If a group of people can do something single-handedly, but I'm not sure what the right word is for 'group-handedly'.

While we continue to mock other economies for their obsessiveness about efficiency (Germany, Japan), their cost effectiveness (India, Eastern Europe) or their laissez-faire, if we are not going to be very productive let's at least make sure that we don't work long hours attitude (France, Italy) we will never compete with them. I think we should at least pick one of these to join in with. Efficiency and cost effectiveness are hard work.

Just for once, I suggest that we align ourselves shoulder to shoulder with the French and the Italians.

I feel sorry for Birmingham

Poor old Birmingham. It comes in for a lot of stick. Its post war architecture was first for the criticism. Then there's the accent - how many times have I heard people say that it's impossible to sound intelligent with it? And now the final blow - there are no pretty girls in Birmingham. None. Not a single one. Allegedly. According to the Miss Great Britain organizers anyway. And I guess they should know. Despite a number of fairly obvious lapses of judgement - like crowning Danielle Lloyd as Miss GB for example.

Just one question. Why, if you can't find a pretty girl in Birmingham, would you pick instead a chav-queen Colleen looky-likey from Stoke?

I mean Stoke, for goodness sake. What were they thinking?

Pikeys, pikeys, wherever you go...

Well I must say that they have a better class of pikey in Padstow.

I'd never been before. Despite my numerous trips to Cornwall, we usually zoom past all those "up-country" trendy parts and descend into the real vile extremity. So I was intrigued to see what it was going to be like. I can't help but be somewhat disappointed. I didn't see Rick Stein, I didn't see a statue of Chalky and I DID see lots of pikey Brits. They were the type of pikeys that clearly have money. Now a few years ago this would have ruled them out of the pikey classes altogether but I fear that the mere possession of a few quid isn't sufficient these days to become excluded. The evidence is all around you in Padstow.

The dress 'sense' is similar to downtown Stevenage only with designer labels instead of Primark anonymity. The language is similar to Harlow Town Centre but with a plummy accent. The cars are trashy BWMs and Mercs instead of trashy Fiestas and Subarus. But pikeys they are still.

The crowning moment was a conversation overheard by me between a father (fortysomething, kitted in designer shorts, t-shirt, deck shoes and sunglasses, plus earring) and his early teenage daughter (white lycra leggings with some logo across the butt and a navel exposing crop top with matching logo, highlighted hair and designer shades too) about the pubic nature of eyebrow hair, all in distinctly estuary accents. I recognise these easily having one myself!

Hey, but at least Padstow has Fish n Chip cafe's that give you a plate, knife and fork instead of forcing you and your young kids to struggle with a polystyrene tray and a wooden chip fork, as we had to endure in Wells last week. And that's despite Wells allegedly being the focal point for the Chelsea-on-Sea bit of North Norfolk just as Padstow is the centre of the equivalent movement in Cornwall. I suppose it's all just further evidence for my pikeys wherever you go theory.

Maybe I protest too much. Estuary accent - check. Fat Face clothing - check. Eating in a Fish n Chip cafe - check. Oh no, it must be true. I am a pikey myself. Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhh!!!

Pass the bottle...

Our attitudes to alcohol in this country leave me exasperated. So we have a new proposal for labelling the stuff so that people will be able to more accurately know when they are drinking too much. And this comes on top of the government changing their advice on drinking to pregnant women contrary to any evidence whatsoever, because they don't think people understand what "1 or 2" units once or twice a week actually means.

Are we all really that stupid as a nation? I'm not that stupid. Nor are a lot of the people I know. So are all the people I don't know (let's call them the pikeys for simplicity) that stupid.

Let's look at it. We are technically allowed to drink 3-4 units per day if we are a man or 2-3 units if we are a woman. If we drink so much that we forget whether we are a man or a woman, I'd suggest that 3 units is the right target as both targets have that in common, but it doesn't really matter because you'll be well over if you've drunk enough to forget anyway.

Now, whether I'm drinking high strength beer or normal strength wine, I know that I've had too much when I reach about that amount. I don't do it too often which may have something to do with my low tolerance levels. But I know that if I go beyond one glass of anything on any day, then it's probably too much and I'm not doing myself any good. I have a drink because I enjoy it, but that is exactly what I have - a drink - singular, lonely, one drink. And surely that's easy enough for anyone to count, even the most mathematically challenged pikey. One drink - OK, more than one - probably too much. DOes anyone not get that?

So are the labels going to help? I doubt it somehow. We have a pretty unhealthy attitude to alcohol in this country and have done for generations. When I think about what makes us British/English then binge drinking comes fairly high up the list. Ever since King Alfred drowned his sorrows with ale or mead after burning the cakes (or maybe even before that) we have been a nation of drunks. A few extra numbers on our bottles won't change that.

Maybe the absurd idea that pregnant pikey women shouldn't drink anything because they are too stupid to work out how much 1 or 2 units are is really the answer. Maybe the real issue is in utero alcohol addiction which then carries on through our entire lives. And maybe, just maybe, the government are right to suggest complete abstinence.

Short termism

Yet another example today of short termism in our society. In order to promote green spaces, you'd think that we would create a new green space, plant some trees, some grass. Return a piece of brownfield land to green space to show what to do.

But no, we instead put down some turf for 2 days - yes count them, one, two - in Trafalgar Square. So it's almost literally here today and gone tomorrow. The turf will be moved to other parks but I assume to replace existent green space rather than create new ones. I don't know about turf but I assume that being laid on concrete for two days can't do it much good - let's just hope that it takes in it's new location. Only tourists go to Trafalgar Square anyway so there's likely to be little impact on the good burghers of London Town.

I propose that instead, if we really want to promote green spaces we really make a new one. Take a street, close it, send the diggers in to remove the concrete and then plant some real grass and some real trees and then leave there for ever.

My suggestions? Whitehall would be good. However, Downing Street would be smaller but more impactful. Visiting ministers should arrive on a goat instead of in a chauffeur driven gas guzzler. Or a donkey for the PM for an added impact of biblical proportions. Of course when ministers are called to Number 10 to be sacked they will have to leave on the ride-on mower so that their final exit from the street (or now renamed Downing Field) will be of some use (biodiesel driven from left over chip fat, of course).

Confession time!

The 9 weeks is up. The end of phase 1 of the Moose's Fatfighters.

Weigh-in tonight shows that I lost 3kg in the 9 weeks, as opposed to the 12kg that was the target. I should be thinking that the result is pathetic. But you lot told me not to be too hard on myself. So let's focus first on the positives:

• I lost 3 kg!!!
• I'm at my lowest weight for about 5 years.
• My fat % has dropped significantly. That means I've put on c. 3kg of muscle since I started. Meaning I've lost 6kg of fat.
• I feel thinner and fitter than in a long while.
• The trousers I'm wearing now are 1 size smaller than 9 weeks ago and are feeling loose.
• I've had to add 2 holes to each of my favourite belts.
• I'm eating less. Even when I do binge the binges are smaller.
• I'm often not eating until I'm hungry rather than when it's a mealtime.
• I'm eating better. More veg and fruit. Less fried stuff.

So what went wrong?

• I didn't stick to the rules.

That's it really. There are so many of the rules I didn't stick to fully that detailed analysis is pointless.

What happens now? Phase 2 started today. Originally I had planned to give myself 4 weeks off now - not off completely but a month of keeping the weight stable rather than trying to reduce it. But the reality is that I lost the 3kg in the first 4 weeks so I've already been roughly constant for 5 weeks. So I'm going to plough on now. I've written a new target and renewed my desire to stick to my own rules. I'm going for a longer time but more weight loss. 20kg in 20 weeks this time. My spreadsheet has been drawn up, I'm ready to go, and as soon as this is posted I'm going to add up my calorie total for today.

Ding bat, wally and gold digger?

A report book designed to alert teachers to the special needs of pupils is found on a Kentish street containing some derogatory statements about some of these pupils and their parents. "Ding bat" and "wally" seem to be the media's favourites, while one mother is allegedly "a bit rough".

My reaction to the story was to laugh in a slightly embarrassed way. Sometimes the truth, while amusing, is better not uttered in exactly the way we might think it or indeed in a way that is easily and immediately understood. I feel for people in the situation of having to compile such reports. The expectations on them are that they are professional, factual and evidential in their treatment yet they should also use clear language. While "ding bat" cannot be claimed to be particularly professional it does convey a succinct truth which is hard to beat for clarity. As a casual reader I immediately had a vivid picture in my mind of what this particular child is like and how you might need to treat them. Sometimes you face a situation where you just have to call a spade a spade.

Reading the story seemed to highlight an important difference in the priorities. The school themselves was apparently most concerned with the report book having been left on the street while the local educational authority was most concerned with the language used and the loss of the book was relegated to second place. This reminded me of the time in one of my previous corporate lives when the information that finance analysts doing the same jobs in different divisions of the company had significantly different salaries. I was in the lower paid group. There was outrage among the analysts - the lower paid ones for being lower paid and the higher paid ones for it coming out. There was also outrage among the management - not for the inequality that had evolved but rather for the release of confidential information that exposed the inequality. Their first reaction was to start a witch hunt to determine who the source of the leak was.

Another interesting priority question surrounds the motivation for the finder of this report book. I would like to think that if I found something on the street my first reaction would be to think "Who does this belong to and how can I return it to them?" But not this lady - she was straight on to the BBC instead. Maybe I don't have the right nose for an opportunity.