Cycling by numbers

In March this year I went cycling in Majorca. I rode 510 miles in eight days - an average of 63.75 miles or 102.5 kilometres.  One ride included 6525 ft of ascent, via the road from Port Calobra, which has 32 hairpins and took me 76 minutes to climb. It was 19 degrees and I burned 6000 calories that day.

Cyclists love numbers. It comes with the territory, so to speak.

As a youngster, the first pocket money accessory I bought was a cyclometer – click , click click… the miles totalling to and from school; all the lads had one.  Cheats would attach the device to their dad’s Black & Decker and spin up an extra hundred miles in a matter of minutes.

And still today, the first question I’m most often asked after a cycle trip, is, ‘How far did you go?’  I know of only a handful of cyclists who don’t use trip-computers; in Majorca, many wore heart rate monitors; some had GPS devices.  For decades Cycling Weekly used to publish charts each January to record weekly and monthly mileage for the year – it probably still does.

But cyclists’ love of numbers doesn’t stop at distance.  We like times too – many keep meticulous records of their performances over set distances - on courses that are named by numbers  (the U44, the B41). Some enthusiasts will happily travel the length of the country to ride ten miles of dual carriageway in the hope of shaving a second off their personal best.

And as for gear ratios…  do you have a spare hour or two? Did you know that dividing the number of cogs on the rear into the number on the front and multiplying by the diameter of the wheel gives you a number equivalent to the measurement of a penny-farthing’s front wheel’?  So a 12-cog rear into a 48  front, combined with a 27inch wheel amounts to 108, and we still measures gears this way today. 

If you didn’t follow that last paragraph it doesn’t matter – it’s just more numbers.

I could equally have mentioned the 21 bends on Alpe d’ Huez, the 3200 kilos in last year’s Tour de France, or the hundreds of thousands who’ve come to the sport through the new fangled ‘sportif’ rides, which are basically a way of adding numbers and targets to long day out on the bike.

This latter point has an interesting twist. 

For years cycling has been a minority sport – a mix of old farts (like me) trundling the lanes with their saddle-bags, and wiry testers, grinding big gears at the Sunday morning time-trial or riding in chain gangs for training. Today it’s mainstream – almost trendy: there’s a plethora of organised rides, charity challenges, medals to be won, standards to be achieved… and not surprisingly lots of numbers too. 

A friend who’s relatively new to cycling, wrote to me after completing a sportif, - he’d ridden 100 kilometres in just over three hours and achieved a silver standard for his age group.  Excellent, I said, and where exactly had he ridden? He couldn’t say – or at least not in any detail. But that wasn’t really the point, he explained– he was aiming for Gold on his next ride!

For all my light-hearted love of numbers, this approach seems rather sad. 

There’s a hugely popular but rather noxious mobile app called Starva, which feeds this new mindset.  You download it on your phone and it tracks your rides, recording your route, distance and speed. It even compares your performance to others, and in a very popular function allocates virtual awards for fastest time over a course the rider sets. Believe it or not, here now are thousands of riders chasing meaningless times over equally meaningless sections of road.|

And if you think I’m exaggerating, let me tell you of a bloke I met recently who told proudly me of his  Strava awards and how he loved being the fastest over a particular section of road – some of which began from his front door. Turned out he lived in a place (I’ll not reveal exactly where) in which there must be at most a dozen regular cyclists. Talk about the tallest dwarf!

 

I’m being unfair and a touch unkind in the paragraph above. He was a nice bloke, a good if mildly obsessive new wave cyclist, certainly much better than me – but boy does it show how easy it is to lose the plot.

The vast majority of the lifelong cyclists I know are not actually obsessed by numbers at all  - even my good friend Stuart, whom I had once considered beyond hope. Over the years, they’ve come to understand that whilst they serve a purpose, what matters most is something deeper, something more experiential.

If numbers matter at all, it’s the hours on the bike, the days we never forget, the years of friendship.

I can bring to mind hundreds of rides that punctuate my adult life: the smell of Leicestershire’s rape fields; the red- squirrels I disturbed near Keswick; the eagles over Mont Blanc; the descent of the Col de Tourmalet on a tandem; the time I froze myself senseless in a storm above Alston.

These memories are mine till I die or go senile.  

And yet I couldn’t tell you the time, the distance, the speed at which I rode those days. None of that matters; it never will and for all but a precious few elite athletes it never should. In a few months I’ll have forgotten the cold hard figures from Majorca – but not the softness of the breeze or the warmth of the sun.

Numbers - who needs them?

Encounters 6 - badger

An unlikely place to see a badger

Sometimes, if we see the most ordinary of things in an unexpected context it can jolt our senses. I was once transfixed for half the train journey to London by a woman flossing her teeth – she nonchalantly rinsed her mouth with spring water, spitting into a plastic bag whilst chatting to her friends! Another time - again on a train -  I was travelling through Germany and I remember being shocked by the workmen drinking steins of lager with their breakfast.

All of which is a contrived introduction to the unexpected context in which I last saw a badger.

It was shuffling across the scrubby cliffs on the approach to St David’s Head. I was there at midday and had passed Porth Melgan beach when I saw it - in truth the badger wasn’t so much shuffling as scurrying, covering the ground at a pace I’ve not seen one travel before.

Badgers are relatively common in Pembrokeshire. There are numerous setts in the lanes near my house, though a good sighting is still infrequent enough to make a comment if not exactly stop the car. Most times we spot a badger it’s caught in the headlights as we drive home – if we see one in the daylight it’s invariably road-kill.

One spring a young cub took to visiting our garden and we’d peek between the curtains to watch it sniffing for worms on the lawn. Lit by the glow of the street lamps it reminded me of those nature watch programmes that set up hidden cameras to film cubs feeding at night - badgers were considered special then, and in many ways they still are, though recent increases in numbers have led to fears of a link to bovine TB, and the threat of culls.

I don’t know about the science but I find the prospect of culls rather sad. We have so few wild mammals and these sturdy creatures seem to me to be symbolic of a widely held feeling that our countryside shouldn’t all be lost to industrial agriculture. How anyone could ever find sport in baiting them is beyond me – thankfully that’s been illegal for a long time.

Watching the badger scurry away, it looked rather comical – hunched and dwarfish, stubby legs racing to catch up with an elongated snout.  I learned recently that badgers are related to weasels. I’d not seen the resemblance before, but there's a vague familiarity in the head shape, though the gait of the one I saw didn’t suggest the cunning we associate with its smaller cousins.

Badgers have long been anthropomorphised in stories, often as trusty stalwarts, as in The Wind in the Willows. Ironically, in that book, the weasels and stoats are the bad guys, ending up on the wrong end of Badger’s cudgel!  But if I were writing in that fashion, my badgers would be rugby forwards: a touch dim on first impression, but single minded and built for their task – absolutely necessary too, for all that we don't notice or appreciate them enough.

Returning to my encounter, it had never occurred to me to look for badgers on the coastpath. I suspect the one I saw had wandered a little too far for comfort, hence its haste to reach the flatter ground. But why wouldn’t they be there?  Beyond the head is a wide expanse of moor, plenty of places for a deep sett, and a deal less interference from farmers or car headlights. 

The strange thing about these encounters is how they affect our returning.  Every time I pass through Didcott station I remember that woman flossing her teeth; I still have an entirely unreasonable preconception that all German workmen drink beer with their breakfast! And the next time I visit St David’s Head I shall look for badgers on the off chance – I doubt I’ll see any, but it won’t really matter. Sometimes, the knowledge they are there is enough.

The trouble with pensions - part 2 (public sector)

No review of UK pensions can be complete without a discussion of the divide between the private and public sector. Unfortunately that word 'discussion' is pretty rare in practice - instead we have, on the one hand, public sector unions screaming hysterically at any suggestion of change, and on the other, an ill-informed press, printing headlines that border on scaremongering.

The truth is somewhere between the two, and frankly, there isn't space here for detailed financial analysis.  But what is undeniable is that the public sector has seen comparatively little change over the last twenty years.  Meanwhile, as I described in my last post, successive governments have stood by and watched the wholesale dismantling of comparable schemes in the private sector.

The end result is what's been described as a pensions apartheid - with the vast majority of citizens now dependent on self invested funds (known as Direct Contribution schemes), whilst workers in the public sector continue to enjoy what are stratospherically better terms, underpinned by the tax payer, inflation linked, and often with early retirement thrown in...

To understand why this disparity has come about, it's important first to return to the old company schemes and specifically, the way they were funded.

In simple terms, company schemes were financed by contributions from members and the sponsoring employer. Over many years these contributions grow and are invested, typically in stocks and bonds, with the proceeds paying for the pensions of members.  There are strict rules to ensure the funds have enough cash and investments  to cover the projected future payments.  And CRUCIALLY, if there is a shortfall, the employer has to make up the difference!

What happened in the private sector - putting the whole issue in a nutshell - is that companies realised they could no longer afford to fund these schemes. As the population began to age the shortfalls (known as pension deficits) were becoming enormous - in may cases bigger than than the entire value of the sponsoring company.  Over a few years, virtually every large UK company closed their final salary schemes.

It's important also to understand - despite the hysteria of the TUC and the conspiracy theorists -  that most of them did this with a heavy heart. In the vast majority of cases, those making the decision would be directly affected and there was deep concern over the impact on long serving employees. But ultimately, it was not in anyone's interest to continue with what had become unsustainable schemes.

Last week I read an otherwise rather good paper which argued that public sector pensions should not be changed - two wrongs, it said, don't make a right!  But in this regard, the paper is missing the point - the companies were not 'wrong' to make these decisions; to have continued would  have bankrupted them and left pensioners in the lurch. Sure, there were some which took advantage, some were less scrupulous and generous than others - but the basic point is undeniable: companies could no longer afford to fund pensions schemes to the level we had all become used to!

So why was so little done in the public sector?

Well, here we have to get into generalities. But the key reason is that the majority of public sector schemes do not have accumulated funds - instead, the member contributions go directly to the government and the tax payer picks up all responsibility for future payments.  There are not the same rules for funding; not the same rules for how early retirement should be accounted for; not the same prospect of bankruptcy - in short, there is not the same incentive to change.

The result is an almost inestimable deficit, which continues to grow, and though not included in our calculation of public debt, it will soon (at a low end estimate) cost every single tax payer £1200 p.a.!  In my last post I described certain aspects of public sector pensions as 'verging on the immoral' -  it is largely this deficit I had in mind. The failure of successive governments (and the recent Hutton Report) to deal with this, is something future generations will pay very dearly for indeed. We are talking about trillions and trillions of pounds.

The trouble though, with any debate on public sector pensions is it depends where you stand - not surprisingly everyone I've met who works in the sector will defend their pension vigorously, but then they're hardly objective are they!  I believe I've demonstrated over many previous posts that I care deeply about pensions, that I want to see a better system in place for my children, that we lack vision and courage - that we have to stop the rot. And yet even I can't accept that what we have in the public sector is any way fair or good for society as a whole.

It's no doubt possible to present the figures above in a different way, to argue that we need to avoid a 'race for the bottom', to claim that certain parts of the public sector (the armed forces for example) are a special case. But ultimately, we have to answer one single question - why should the public sector have substantially better arrangements than that which the government deems right for everyone else?

And the honest truth is I can't answer that with any rigour.

The Government has recently introduced a quasi compulsory pension plan known as 'auto enrolment' - it has been lauded as a scheme that will ensure very worker has a decent pension. And to give you some idea, an average wage earner participating in that scheme for their entire working life, might just, if they are lucky, accrue a pension equivalent to 25% of their wage - almost certainly not index linked, and extremely limited in its guarantees and other benefits. A public sector worker on the same wage and working over the same period would enjoy a pension of upwards of 50%, index linked, spouses pensions, etc, etc.

I could go on about the unfairness of public sector pensions.  Why, when the minimum pension age was raised to 55, was the Police Service 'red circled' to allow their pensions to be taken from as low as age 48?  Why were so many public sector workers (estimated at millions of retirees) given enhanced packages that would never be justified in the commercial sector? Why do those 'funded schemes' such as exist local government not have to adhere to the same recovery schemes as the private sector?

My own family reading this blog may wince (they include three teachers, all early retired; one policeman soon to retire; my brothers are a teacher and a nurse; my late father was a policeman retired age 50).  I'm not saying they don't deserve their pensions - but I am saying they would never have got them in the private sector today, and that at some point this disparity has to stop. For my close family also has eight children and young adults - we have to also think about them.

Of course it could be argued (to some extent it was by Lord Hutton) that the State should set an example - and that by doing so it encourages best practice in the commercial sector. If I thought this were true, I'd support it - but, sadly, there is not a scrap of evidence to show that companies will change course.  What's more, the recent Government changes to pension funding makes it almost impossible for them to do so. The truth is, the old company schemes are dead and they will not be replaced. And this is why I passionately believe public sector pensions must change too. For only then will we see the creativity and vision needed to improve pensions for everyone.

If you want me to pin my colours to the mast, I'd like to see a system that is broadly universal - that makes saving compulsory regardless of earnings - that pays out near to 35% of salary by retirement age - that is capped at roughly £50,000 p.a. so very high earners can't use it as tax haven - that is index linked and not eroded by means tested benefits - that can be calculated with a high degree of certainty - that can be bequeathed in the event of deaths.  In other words, a system that lies somewhere between the public and private sector norms - a half way house that is fairer for everyone.

All that is possible, but only if we pool our resources and not if we continue to over-egg schemes for 20% of the population whilst constantly cutting those which apply to the rest. It is not a matter of reducing what we pay for pensions as a whole, nor is it a matter of racing to the bottom - rather, it is a matter of paying more ( a great deal more if necessary)  but spreading that cost and its benefits more evenly.

And above all of this, there is simply a question about the kind of society we want to live in. I want one that offers the prospect of a decent retirement for all, not one that's riven by envy and division in old age  - nor, at the other end of life's spectrum, one in which young people are forced to make career choices  based on a fear of old age.  I want one that is shaped by neither hysteria nor scaremongering, but by an understanding that whilst we need to make some unpalatable changes, those are best achieved if apply the same rules to all.

I rest my case.

I wait comments with interest and can almost feel the icy blast of those in the public sector - my challenge to them is to answer the question I posed in italics many paragraphs above. We can all contrive to defend our self interest - the harder task is to show, in the greater scheme of things, how that self interest sits comfortably with the legitimate interests of others. 

The trouble with pensions - part 1

A couple of posts previous to this, Mark in Mayenne commented that he could weep for what has happened to education in Britain. I'm not so sure, but I could certainly weep for what's happened to our pension system. In a little under twenty years we've destroyed (or at least allowed to die) one the most tangible aspects of social progress since the creation of the Welfare State - the prospect of a decent and secure retirement.

The reasons for this are largely the preserve of experts. Of the general population, even the well educated and financially savvy don't understand pensions; most folk are simply bemused, confused and mistrusting.  Younger people have all but given up hope - they'll 'work till they drop they' say, in a tone that's half humour and half resentment.

I don't blame them.

Successive Governments have made the system so complex it is now way beyond the layman. The recent announcement of a 'new simplified state pension' is a classic example of political spin sneaking through a measure through which ought to have caused an outcry.  In case you didn't know, it's effect for the vast majority will be they work longer, receive less and have fewer means to provide a cushion should they wish to save for it. 

It's true that pensions are a complex business - and there's no single reason for the demise of the UK system. We have an ageing population; successive governments (and New Labour in particular) have made some stupendously bad decisions on the tax treatment of pension funds; politicians have run scared of tough decisions for fear of electoral backlash...  I could go on.

But instead I want to give you a slightly different perspective. It comes from years of being a trustee of two very large funds, and many more spent caring about and planning for retirement. I am, perhaps sadly, one of the few who (broadly) understands pensions; who takes a very close interest in how they are structured, how policy affects them, and how in turn it will impact future generations.

I'm going to offer you three very different reasons for their demise.

The first is you and me.  I don't mean that literally, but if the changes in pension provision have shown one thing, it is that if you require people to take personal responsibility, huge numbers will choose to spend today rather than save for tomorrow.

To some extent this is a result of confusion and mistrust - the reason so many people joined the old company salary schemes is that they were very simple to understand - but it is also because our culture and attitude has changed; I'd argue for the worse.

I've long ago lost count of the number of middle earning people who tell me they can't afford to save for a personal pension. The operative phrase here is 'middle earning'. There has always been a section of society that struggles to afford a private pension, but middle earners (austerity aside) are rarely in that bracket. Of course, I understand they don't use the phrase 'afford' in an absolute sense, but as a general population we continue to make active choices to spend on houses, cars holidays, whatever...  rather than save for retirement.

And it's important to recognise that we've been under-saving for twenty years - not just in times of austerity; indeed, the supposed boom saw some of the biggest reductions in pension provision. In part this was because of a widely adopted mantra that 'my house will be my pension' - but it was also, frankly, because attitudes to saving for retirement changed.

As a whole you'll pick up that I regard the demise of pensions as a national disgrace - but at the risk of some controversy, if there is one section of society I will have little sympathy for in years to come, it is those who clearly have the means to save but demonstrably choose not to.

The second is public sector pensions, or rather the failure of consecutive governments to tackle the issue. It might seem counter to my position to say that public sector pensions are unsustainable  - I'd go so far as to say they are verging on the immoral - but in fact I believe they are central to the lack of progress in the private sector.

As a rule I don't like conspiracy theories, but my deeply held belief is that one of the chief reasons the private sector system has been allowed to die, is that those in power have not been affected. Public sector pensions are such a huge issue that I plan to discuss them separately in a follow up post (can you wait) - but for now I would just register that until we are all in the same boat, there will not be the political drive and thought leadership necessary for our rescue.

Which brings me neatly to the third reason - that there is no political vision for retirement.  The policy makers have come to see pensions entirely in terms of cost and risk and future debt projections; they run scared from the figures and even more so from the electorate.  No politician wants to lose votes for a decision that will bring benefit after they've gone - and this is perhaps the biggest trouble of all.

But if ever there were a case for re-framing a debate, this is surely it. I happen to be passionate about pensions, but it's not the financial instruments I care about; it is ensuring I and my family - and millions of others like us - have a secure and fulfilling retirement.

Everyone understands the days of pay-offs and feet-up in your fifties have all but gone - but that doesn't mean we can't still have an ambitious political vision which, for example: recognises that winding down from full time employment is going to be necessary for millions; incentivises companies to offer more than minimum pension contributions; legislates for more flexible and age appropriate employment contracts for workers who've given years of service; acknowledges a better balance between the private and public sector would be a social good.

I could easily add to that list - and perhaps I should.  But the tragedy is that our politicians do not do it for me. Most don't understand, many don't much care, some are wilfully blind. It is an absolute tragedy and a one we all will pay for.

As I said at the start, I really could weep.

A new take on Valentine's day

The white tower, top right - title of one of the essays from my book

Forgive the self promotion, but for a new take on Valentines Day I will be reading from my book at Pages Bookshop, Hackney.

I'd be delighted if any of you wanted to come along, cheer me on, buy a book or two...

Joining me will be Jeremy Worman, author of the excellent, Fragmented, a city-scape collection that contrasts, and I'd like to think complements, my interest in landscape, fatherhood and nature.

If you can't make it then perhaps you could forward this to any writerly friends, mention it on your blog, post it on Facebook, tweet it to the world...

That or wish me well.

Enjoy your Valentine's Day, whatever it is you're doing.

Pages Bookshop

Thursday February 14^th 7.00 p.m.

70 Lower Clapton Road Hackney London E5 0RN

The trouble with speeding - and a perversion of justice

Image stolen from the web!

The recent publicity surrounding the guilty plea of Chris Huhne, and the tragic consequences for both him and his family have been playing on my mind. It's not that I care especially for Mr Huhne, or condone any of his actions (be they personal, political or perjurous) - it's that I'm left deeply uneasy at the thought such a trivial matter could lead, as if by some unstoppable logic, to such extreme an outcome.

The strict legal position is that Chris Huhne perverted the course of justice; that's a serious matter and as a consequence he should expect a custodial sentence - 6 months, possibly more. As a cyclist I have more reason than most to ensure speeding offences go punished. It's straightforward isn't it: he did the crime -  he should do the time!  So why I am so uneasy?

The clue, I think, is in the phrase 'perverted the course of justice'.

Really?

It was reported this week that an estimated 300,000 people have offloaded speeding points - do we genuinely regard all those as perverters of justice? Do we think that's how they viewed it when say 5 years ago (or more) they asked a wife or partner to avoid an increase in their car insurance?

It seems to me that to categorise the off loading of speeding points as a crime carrying up to a life sentence is clear case of mislabeling.  More than that, it's an aggrandisement of the issue by the prosecuting authorities and legal system.

Now before you think I've gone all soft, it's important to remember that we're not about to send Chris Huhne to prison because he's an MP, or because he left his wife, or because he wasted public time - it's because he lied to avoid speeding points.

If you're comfortable with that - if you feel the punishment fits the crime, then fine. But to be consistent you'd have to be equally comfortable with dishing out exactly the same punishment to the 300,000 other folk who've done precisely the same.

Imagine if, by the wave of some magic wand, we had the technology to prove all those cases beyond reasonable doubt - would you really be comfortable putting that many people away? Even if we assume the figure of 300,000 is grossly exaggerated (it probably is because the press reported it) -  there'd still be tens of thousands involved.

Almost any adult reading this will know someone who has off loaded penalty points - your sister perhaps, your uncle, a friend?  Six months for them too - does that seem like justice?  Indeed, if you know they did it, why aren't you ratting on them -  after all, perverting the course of justice is a serious crime; surely you're an accomplice if you don't tell?

The truth is we don't regard points dodgers as being in the same league as robbers and muggers. Most of us wouldn't want our friends or neighbours incarcerated for such a relatively trivial offence - that's not to say a substantial deterrent isn't needed. But surely a five year driving ban would be sufficient, rather than a criminal record, loss of job, ruination of their career and life prospects.

It occurred to me that a fair challenge to this view might lie in the word deterrent.

The problem with points dodging, a prosecutor would say, is that it's easy to do and hard to detect. In these circumstances we need a strong disincentive - and custodial sentences provide that. By their nature deterrent sentences are disproportionate; they are harsh on the individual, but justified by the wider context. That's why we use them for crimes such as drug trafficking, or in the corporate sphere, for breaches of competition law.

All very logical?

I suppose it is when you put it like that - indeed it almost convinced me - and yet I'm still uneasy.

And that's because points dodging isn't the same league as smuggling heroin or price fixing cartels. Drugs traffickers are few and far between, they peddle misery to millions and make a killing for themselves - what's more (and to my mind critically important) they know the consequences of getting caught.

That patently isn't a parallel to the off loading of penalty points - for a start we know that tens if not hundred of thousands have done it. Whilst the deception isn't to be condoned, I'd contend it doesn't directly peddle misery in a comparable way. And most important of all, I don't believe that when your sister or your friend or your colleague agreed to take those points they fully understood what that could mean.

But more than all this - sometimes we just need a sense of perspective.

As things stand we have hundreds of thousands of criminals in our midst, all of them hoping they don't have a row with their spouse; all of them hoping there's no magic wand; all of them sleeping uneasy. When you think of it, that's a sad state of affairs.

Call me an old softie if you wish, but in my view, it's also a perversion of justice.

I await comment from the lawyers who follow!

The trouble with posh boys

Preamble.

It's been a while since I've written about politics or ruffled a few feathers at the bike shed. Although I never quite reasoned it out, I think I've been concerned that readers of my book might be put off.  I've been anticipating a rush of visitors wanting beautiful words on family and landscape -  not me ranting about the wrongs of private education or the demise of the UK pension system. 

The assumption is flawed.  

Firstly, it presumes my book would attract readers here - a hope which the stat-counter confirms isn't happening, or at least not in volume. Secondly it's dried up my output so that even the regular visitors are tailing off.  And thirdly, I've a list of political issues clogging my head - and blocking the route of things less contentious.

So if you're new here and expecting something more on nature or landscape, bear with me  a while, or try clicking the sidebar - meanwhile I'll start with an anecdote that set me thinking.

The proper post starts here.

The other week my son related a story of a 'rich girl' at his school who'd blithely asserted, 'all of us have smartphones that our parents pay for'.  No we dont! was the firm response from her peers. 'Really? But I thought...'

Whilst the tale is not quite on the level of 'let them eat cake', it reminded me of how easy it is for the privileged to lose touch with the lives of those less flush. I'm sure I've been guilty of this - probably most of the middle classes have at some point. George Orwell, whose writings are currently being celebrated on Radio 4, argued it was impossible for the upper classes (of which I am distinctly not a member) to fully understand the realities of the working class.

My son's story also brought to mind the MP, Nadine Diorres' recent description of Cameron and Clegg as two arrogant posh boys. The country, she claimed, was being run by public school toffs with no understanding of those who can't afford to fill their kids' lunch boxes. What's more, she added, they dont care!'

I disagree with Diorres and (dare I say it) to some extent with Orwell. Aside from the occasional backbench rant I don't see any evidence that this Government is entirely ignorant or uncaring of those on low incomes. Indeed they overtly state that those with the broadest shoulders who should carry the biggest burden - and whilst we might argue about what constitues 'broad', most of their fiscal policies have reflected this. 

But what I think the annecdote illustrates is something more subtle - and it get's to the heart of the trouble with posh boys...

Drive through any middle class housing estate and you'll see rows of properties looking very much alike, cars on the drive, gravel round the plant pots. From outside appearance you might reasonably conclude the lives and incomes of the residents are much of a muchness. But you'd be very wrong.  

Scratch the surface, and you'll find that number 26 is mortgaged to the hilt; next door they're debt free but under threat of redundancy; the chap at number 32 has no pension and will be working till he drops; the bungalow at the end is being sold to pay for care home fees... The middle classes of the UK may all look alike - but the deeper reality is that their only commonality (quoting Orwell again) is a fear of becoming working class. 

And it seems to me that this hints at what posh boys fail to understand. It's not that Cameron and Clegg can't recognise and empathise with those on truly low incomes. Rather, it's that if you went to a school costing £12,000 a term, then it's hard to see a problem with university fees of £9000? If you're set to inherit millions and a mansion, then what's all the fuss about the demise of pensions? If your family is rolling in cash then surely the difference between individual and household earnings is just a technicality? 

Well no it isn't. 

Take, for example,  the patently unfair arrangements for removal of Child Benefit. This doesn't affect those on low or average incomes - but it is classic 'posh boy' to think there's no  difference between a household with three children and one earner on £61,000p.a. (entire benefit of circa £2,300 removed) and another with two adults earning a combined income of £98,000p.a. which retains all of the benefit.  For clarity, I'm not arguing here that benefits shouldn't be removed; I'm saying the way they have chosen to do it shows a  certain disregard of the difference £40,000 per year makes. 

And it's classic posh boy to argue the provision of bursaries to students from lower income families makes the system of fairer, and by implication more palatable. Of course, we need to encourage social mobility, that's obvious - but let's not be ignorant of the impact on a lower middle class teenager who wants to become a teacher and is facing the prospect of £50,000 debts. 

As an aside, one of the few truly 'fair' aspects of the university fees system is that students repay loans when they earn above a threshold. Ironically for the posh boys this means that subsidising students from low income families is potentially a gross injustice. Imagine a fully subsidised student who has no fees to repay but who then goes on to earn a multi-million salary (they become an investment banker perhaps).  Now imagine an average income student whose parents  struggle to support through university and whose career takes them to a socially valuable but middle income job (a policeman perhaps) - but who then has repay over £50,000 in fees and loans! That simply can't be fair. 

But then you see fairness is a tricky concept. And our view of it is highly dependent on the company we keep and how we experience the world around us. 

So next time you hear Cameron, Clegg and their chums promoting this Government's policies, ask yourself  how aware they are - not of the obvious income gaps, but of the subtleties that lie behind appearance. Ask whether their kids might think that parent funded smartphones are what everyone teenager enjoys.