Blog 198: The Whistle Blower

“Compliments are received with all the enthusiasm of minnow accepting chocolates from a shark” Decca Aitkenhead [referencing talking to the actor Hugh Grant]

In 1987, I went to the cinema to see a movie called Maurice. The film was beautiful – as was the book it was based on, and although I have nothing in common with any of the elements that attracted me to it – it touched me deeply and I have an affectionate spot for all involved in the bringing it to the screen to this day.

The film brought to my attention a 25 year old British actor by the name of Hugh Grant. I have followed his career with the same interest as I have all involved with Maurice, though I never really counted myself as a fan of his until the redoubtably excellent ‘About a Boy’, which in my humble opinion remains his career best performance. When all is said and done though, the name Hugh Grant above the title of a film is not enough to drive me to a seat in the cinema.

However, empathy for Hugh Grant runs deep within me.

I hasten to add my path and his have never crossed. If, during my discourse through London glitterati /Fulham FC, we have been in the same place at the same time – I have been entirely unaware. My empathy with Mr Grant comes purely from what I observe third hand through the media and general tittle-tattle.

From what I can decipher, from such a tenuous way to form an opinion of someone, is that he is a person for whom a persona has been invented by persons with their own agenda. When he (in my opinion bravely) stood up to challenge that persona invented and expressed with such moral certitude by its creators, he has found himself cast as a bitter man, a hypocrite and a person who will bite the hand that undoubtedly fed him for years. The experience has left the self depreciating actor suffering from acute anxiety - he can bearly believe a compliment these days, he is always waiting for the other shoe to drop . His critics describe this as the arrogance of a talent-lite dilettante.

Regular readers of JaxWorld have probably worked out why my empathy for the actor runs so deep... whistle blowing.

I have always felt it is our duty as human beings to speak up, and speak out. It is very easy to live your life complicitly. Over all complying with the rules is what makes society work – I can see that, I even agree with that... but when something is pretending to be something it is not, especially when it is marketing itself as ‘for the good of the people’... one should question it. If you don’t then as the old saying goes, the success of evil depends not upon who promotes it, but upon those who say and do nothing in the presence of it. It is our moral duty to speak up...and speak out – as uneasy as that path may be.

I recall a good many years ago, the daughter of an acquaintance of mine was raped. The circumstances were unusual and while there was no doubt of the crime, the media could not contain their glee in covering the story. Eventually they broke the covenant that said the victim should never be revealed, and splashed the girls face all over the papers. In the end, someone whistle blew on the process in which the identity and photographs of the victim got into the media’s realm. Three cheers to the whistle blower and shame on you to the newspaper in question – but that is not the issue.

I do very much recall that when brought to book on this the media defence was “The public have a right to know”. To this day I cannot fathom what public service there was in exposing the identity of the victim of such a terrible crime.

This question is the big issue... Are the perpetrators still in touch with own principals?

Sometimes powerful people and organisations are so convinced that their way is the only way... they lose track of what it is the way even stands for. There is a line with any principal. And if you cross the line you have left what you stand for behind and should be prepared for questions to be asked.

Having the mentality that if someone does not find your conduct inline with your principals that they should be deconstructed and assailed - is quite simply Wrong. You and your beliefs/organisation are not under attack if someone highlights that sometimes the talk you are talking and the walk you are walking are not exactly in line... you are being questioned. That is all.

Take a pause, look at yourself and ask yourself honestly... “Am I still what I say I am?” You may be grateful of the whistleblowers intervention. Because if your principal was to give the public ‘the right to know’ in order to serve the Freedom of Information Act.... you HAVE to ask yourself what public rights are being served by publishing a photograph of a raped child, or the details of a private conversation between an A list actor and his girlfriend?

This is where action and intent have gone awry. And it is (in the UK at least) our RIGHT to whistle blow and call perpetrators to book.

I am tired of perpetrators confusing their right to defend themselves from accusations with being defensive. To recast someone’s character purely because they have highlighted that the principal that you hold dear may well gone astray (possibly without your knowledge) is plainly speaking... evil.

I find it appalling that because a person speaks out about something that is evidently open to be challenged, that they be pilloried. I find I even worse that those whose conduct and motivation should be the focus of attention have instead turned the tables and turned the focus of the debate to be upon the character of the accuser. To rubbish someone's charecter to the point where they cannot even take a compliment anymore because their self esteem has been cut to ribbons is unforgiveable.

I watched Maurice again last night. Hugh Grant was 25 years old! I wonder if the young actor could have had any idea of the path that lay ahead of him? Probably not... what do any of us know when we are 25!!!

I also watched the footage of the Leveson enquiry from November last year again. The actor, in his early 50’s, showed no sign of the invented media personality of a heartless, feather-brained lothario. What I saw was a thoughtful, articulate, brave man highlighting the gap between the principal of the organisations he was taking on and the actual conduct of the same organisations.

Without puppet masters creating his personality, I could clearly see the real person. This was NOT a bitter man looking for revenge because the hand that fed him didn’t suit him anymore... this was someone who had been hurt in real terms. And yet despite the hurt there he was, holding an olive branch proclaiming that if they could stop the hurt he would forgo any apologies and damages.

The council for the enquiry, Robert Jay said afterward to Mr Grant “You have been very fair...you bowled straight balls”. And yet the actor was still referred to in the press coverage as an aging lounge lizard of questionable morality and worth. Funny enough this month when interviewed, Grant was asked if he regretted whistle blowing, he said “Yes, of course. The backlash moments have been terrible. Traditionally, they will always have their revenge. It may be eaten cold, but there will be revenge.” And yet knowing that... he still spoke out... and spoke up.

The levenson enquiry continues, at the time publishing this blog. Whatever the final outcome may we all take from it a lesson:

No man, No woman, No organisation, No government is above having its culture, practice or ethics questioned. We are just people, and sometimes we drift away from what we set out to be at the start. We should not attack or diminish those who challenge our notion of where we are on the path.

Because sometimes...just sometimes... when we are on a path, we are blind to exactly where we are walking.

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter- @JaxWorldBlog

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success

Blog 197: Chris said....

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." Aldous Huxley

One of the joys about being properly educated is that I understand words. One of the great English exponants of words was the writer Aldous Huxley (most famed for being the author of Brave New World). Of course if I were a using today's logic I would have never read him or heard of him as he died when I was pre-school, but I am of the generation that was taught to look backways as well as foreways for I may learn something that may save me a trip. Aldous Huxley once said "Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored".

Yes Aldous... Yes.

The facts remain.

Someone else that knows words due to a good education would be Chris Martin (Younger readers of JaxWorld wake up! this happened during YOUR lifetime and we all know this is the ONLY part of history that counts to you).

Chris and three of his pals scribbled down something that described the conceited intransigence, the fake flexibility, the pride, the stubbornness, the indecision and the paranoia which once dressed up with some elaborate self-righteous defence mechanism, blameless blame games and the tangled mess of inconsistencies are all that we can grasp in the wake of misunderstandings.

But music succeeds where just words fail as Chris and pals attached the words to a guitar rift that tells of the tiredness, irritability, impatience, misunderstandings, crossed wires, inaction, fault and blindness that ultimately lead to destroying relationships through anger, laziness and insecurity.

I was blown away the first time I heard it ten years ago. Not much has changed in my reaction to it in the decade that has passed.


A warning sign
I missed the good part then I realised
That I started looking and the bubble burst
I started looking for excuses
Come on in, I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
I've got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so

A warning sign
You came back to haunt me and I realised
That you were an island and I passed you by
When you were an island to discover
Come on in, I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
I've got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

And the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
I miss you so
And I'm tired
I should not have let you go

So I crawl back into your open arms
Yes I crawl back into your open arms
And I crawl back into your open arms
Yes I crawl back into your open arms

Writer: GUY BERRYMAN, JON BUCKLAND, WILL CHAMPION, CHRIS MARTIN


... I think Aldous would approve... after all that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter- @JaxWorldBlog

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success

BLOG 196: Broadening Horizons

“Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind” Ernest Hemingway

I’m back! I put a little distance between me and my keyboard this week (about 1012 miles) and I will explain all the how’s and why’s in a moment, BUT... I had to tell you... I actually LEARNED something!! I have spent days, being just one of the guys (for reason I will explain) and I think I’ve cracked it as to why it is guys are sooooo much better than girls at having stress free relationships with each other.

• · Men like to keep things simple and focus on outcomes rather than analysis.
• · Good natured ribbing is an essential part of a healthy male relationship.
• · Guys never let petty disputes come between friends.
• · True loyalty is the essence of any good male friendship.

Basically... I became part of a party who got away from the day to day by taking off to Poland. Some of my girlie friends and about a dozen firemen of our acquaintance plus of course me, decided that we’d cure the winter blues by flying east for a few days.

Okay Poland not one of Europe’s famed winter hot spots ... [23ºC in the Canaries this weekend]... but in comparison to Blighty it had promise – sunny clear skies and not a rain drop to be had till the plane touched down in Stansted. Besides...you just have to hand it to the Polish Tourist Board. Given its easterly location, distinct lack of obvious attractions and chequered recent history, they do a great job romancing people to wander inside their borders. “Discover its rich and fascinating history, and the events which changed the shape of Europe in both ancient and modern times. Get to know acclaimed contemporary Polish artists, go crazy in clubs, and taste delicious dishes representing Polish cuisine. Follow the pure joy of a great adventure!” It proclaims. We chose to locate our ‘great adventure’ in the southerly city of Krakow – famed for being the former royal capital and being home to priceless historical monuments of culture and art. Not that any of that mattered as the plan was always to spend the majority of our trip being artistically cultured in ways of the city’s clubs, cafes, bars, wine cellars and restaurants.

Now the dynamics of our group raised more than a couple of eyebrows evenbefore we set off. We were not an even split in any category you wish to pull for inspection, but the obvious being we were couple free, and decidedly top heavy in male to female ratio. Then there were all sorts of odd dynamics, such as people who had never travelled with each other before, people who had never even met before, people who knew each other only too well and people who wished they never knew each other at all. It’s an ambitious thing to get any party of 16 to be anywhere at the same time, but given our dynamics it was quite an achievement that it happened at all.

But happen it did.

Any regular reader of JaxWorld would know that I really struggle with female to female relationships. Nothing in the world is stronger or more flimsy than the relationships between women. I find that women expect me to be a reflection of THEIR values to a tee, and while that works for them I am in the fold, but the moment that reflection is slightly transgressed I can find myself out in the cold and under a fatwa NEVER to bespoken to again. This is why trips such as this with the firemen suit me to the ground. The very fact that these trips are usually top heavy in the male to female ratio me and I can escape the slings and arrows of the female arena.

The dynamics of this particular trip suited me even better than prior ones, being that as this time there were only five girls and four of those were besties. Given that hotel rooms usually are designed to accommodate two people, and our party split evenly into eight rooms, I was billeted to bunk with one of the lads.

Now there it goes... that eyebrow again. (Yep I saw you!) I know! I know! Room arrangements involving males and females seem to have an unwritten rule - unrelated or unmarried or unintimate men and women should NOT be billeted together. If this rule is broken...then questions WILL and must be asked and of course eyebrows WILL and must be raised.

To be honest ... the raised eyebrow is something I find more palatable than a ‘cot-bed’ pushed into a double room with the ‘girls’ for the sake of decency. The other girls were very close with each other; it made sense for them to share. Me... I’d rather bunk with a guy than be the cuckoo in the nest of a couple of besties. I don’t do the besties thing. I find female friendships... the intimacy that comes naturally to most women, all that talking, crying, sharing secrets together... is sooo not my bag. I have girls that are friends, sure... but I don’t bear my soul (none of my girl friends could give you a complete and accurate picture of what is going on with me as I limit information as a reflex). I’d rather just do stuff along side people. Men are all about doing stuff, they don't sit around sharing their deepest feelings, they save their energies for geting the beers in.

Which is what we went to Krakow for.

Driving through the dismal rain from Stansted back home I asked the girls to rate the trip out of ten. Eleven was the score. We started chatting about our favourite moments and some of the events that had occurred. And that’s when it dawned on me... I wasn’t on the same trip as them. Yep we were in the same hotel, the same bars, the same clubs and the same restaurants. We had stories involving the same people... and we certainly were on the same flights. However the room allocation did have a marked effect on the way my short break to Poland played out.

The difference started early on... we flew on a low budget airline. This meant our seats we not pre-allocated. This meant in the scrum to ‘just find somewhere to sit down’... I was looking for one seat...the bestie girls were looking for two. Therefore while the other girls sat in duos, I sat alone both flying out and flying home. Then the room allocation really kicked in. Without a female room mate, I did not have the extended female ritual of getting ready... my roomie would shower change and leave the room with a “see ya in the bar”. This meant that I had an accelerated ablutions programme resulting in my launch pad to group activities was via the bar with the lads. Thirdly, I was consultation free for the trip. As my roomie was a guy tenuously linked to me, the necessity to give constant updates of my movements was negated. I could return to my room at will and so did not have to leave or return to base with the girls. Therefore while the other girls experience was coloured by opportunities used for self disclosure and emotional expressiveness with each other ... Mine was coloured by being focused on activity based companionship with the larger party.

Nothing was more truer a reflection of this than the last night, walking back to the hotel from a nightclub.

You could clearly see that girls have a community responsibility and do by reflex things that even the best of male friends usually won’t do for each other. Worse for wear for drink is a polite way of describing most of the party... if a girl stumbled or fell, the others would stop and assist... hence their very slow progress... and why I ended up so far ahead. On arrival at the hotel, the mutual nurturing continued as the girls assisted each other in ensuring no injuries were sustained and that they were rested for the early start as we were flying home the next morning.

Which meant all the girls missed out completely on the party going on my room.

This was because walking with the guys only involved stopping to laugh at each other; if one fell it was entirely down to him to catch the party up. On arrival at the hotel, those worse for wear saluted the others on the way to their pits. Those still standing focused on working out who had the biggest room, the most alcohol and mixers... and moved the party there. We stayed up all night talking, drinking and doing dares, then caught a few zeds before our flight where we fell.

However, being an honorary guy does not mean you get privy to more information... for all the talking that was done while we were away. I was surprised to discover that despite the fact that over the trip the other girls had spent proportionately less time with the guys than I did, they’d uncovered loads of information that as an honorary guy never even passed my way. One of the guys’s had problems at work. Another was paying out a fortune for his daughter’s dream wedding. A third man had health problems. Interesting not one of those issues came up when I was hanging with the lads doing guy stuff.... probably just as well, as if I had been approached with the back story to any of this stuff I would have responded “Jeez mate! That’s terrible... Wanna try the Belvedere or Chopin vodka next?”

One of the girls asked me at the airport, what on earth we were all talking about in my room all night? Well... sad to say we did not leave the shallow end of the swimming pool... that is to say we were reassuredly NOT deep at all! There were endless jokes about each other, a ridiculous amount of sex talk... who does what/ fantasy talk most as they couldn’t let the other guy get one up on them (funny how that was implicitly understood), a little probing of me to get a woman’s perspective (are girls really more reserved or are they just more discreet or just great liars), but mainly it was ribbing each other, talking /comparing body functions and body parts and talking about women. It was light hearted, immensely silly, and a very companionable way to end a great trip.

I may well have missed out on the fluffy stuff by not getting to the bottom of the issues they chose to mention only to the ‘proper girls’... but I did really enjoy being the only source of oestrogen left in testosterone land. While female friendships are pretty complex, male friendships are simple relationships, fuelled by the virtues of acceptance and loyalty. This ain’t news - these two things have remained the same guiding principles in man friendships throughout time.

I noticed was that the other girls had a completely different take on why the lads did certain things. They took some of the misbehaviour demonstrated by the guys as deeply immature and childish. I suppose from a female perspective it is hard to understand why men chose to express their strong bonds in such different and fairly odd ways.

I was privy to the closest of friends greeting each other with insults, and then announcing to the group that he did something terrible (sexual) to his friend’s mother, to which his friend reciprocated in kind. Obviously if passing acquaintance had said those things it would be no laughing matter, but insulting each other in an amusing (albeit childish) way is the acceptable way of showing the bonds they have with each other in testosterone land. From what I could make out from a male view; their mates have their back, and they have his. Their mates help define them, and they accept them unconditionally. “He’s my mate!” the guy who just was insulted by his friend said “He can call me anything!”

If that level of acceptance is befuddling to women, the relationship guys have with loyalty is even more so. To a man, loyalty means everything. To the guys loyalty is about putting in the time, about doing stuff together and about supporting each other in a conflict.

Conflict is dealt with in an uncomplicated way... if there is a departure from the code they just blurt it out. “Oi... have I upset you Mate , cause I can feel a bit of tension”. I can’t imagine that dialogue going down to well female to female, but I reckon guys generally just ain’t wired to keep burning angst bottled up inside, waiting to explode like women do. They discuss it, sometimes heatedly, and then move on.

To the guys, loyalty means you stick with your people, you don’t let any member of the ‘herd’ feel they don’t belong or are intruding. It's not easy to get in but once they are in, they are in for life, so they couldn’t quite understand why I was reticent to go knock on the doors of the two sets of besties rooms. Given there was no actual tension going on between me and the other girls, they found it odd that I was “cut adrift” so often during the trip and felt obliged to adopt me. In a male scenario apparently you go out as a unit, keep the unit together, and return as a unit.

This could be seen at Stansted when we got home. British airports are not designed to keep a group of 16 together. We all got split up by the various lifts, stairs, travelators and gateways. The girls got through customs and each pair of besties waited for the individuals in their duo... in two completely different places. I came through alone and went to say goodbye to the first set (who told me to ring them if I couldn’t find the second set). This was something I wouldn’t do and I told the first set that if I couldn’t find the second set I’d just jump on the train home. One of the lads overheard and insisted on getting me in on their arrangements but once we ‘d walked out of arrivals the second set of best mates were there waiting for me... bless. In the car park, the first set of besties bibbed us as they drove past. We waved and smiled as girlies do and hurried into our car out the rain. We’ll probably all meet up for coffee in the week... or a drink by end of month for sure.

By contrast... the lads ALL waited for each other at arrivals. Only when the whole unit was back together having completed the task of getting to the UK, did they move onto the next task of getting to their individual homes. The haphazard method we women employed to our group (smaller than half the size of theirs) was met with derision. It’s an absolute rule that men do not leave their friends hanging.

Over the time away I learnt that means always having your friend’s back, even if he’s about to do something criminally stupid. They aren’t each others critics, or mentors or parents. They are each others support – they are truly there for each other, Because, ultimately, that’s what friendship comes down to for men.

To the lads of the London Fire Brigade I would like to say thank you for a wicked short break – but above all thanks for the lesson. I know you think I yapp too much, drink too much and am way too crazy to have paid attention... but I did. And I now know for sure that what might seem like an impossible task to do alone, whether putting out fires in London or stopping a food fight in a restaurant in Krakow, becomes a hell of a lot easier when you have a good friend by your side.

You should know...“mam wielki czas w Polsce!”... Thanks!

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter- @JaxWorldBlog

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto: http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success