The meaning of Clarkson

Jeremy Clarkson is not a name unfamiliar in Poland; his books and TV shows are available here in translation; Świat wedłu Clarksona (four volumes of the stuff) is a concept that many Poles will have come into contact with in their native language.

The man has made his name and his fortune driving expensive cars around public roads while pressing the loud pedal. His forthright views on matters unrelated to the ignition of fossil fuels in the pursuit of thrills are often hilarious. His ranty writing style inspires rank-and-file bloggers in a way that only Bill Bryson can better.

So. On Wednesday, Britain's public sector went out on strike (well, some of them). Jeremy Clarkson said on BBC television:

"Frankly, I'd have them all shot. I would take them outside and execute them in front of their families. I mean, how dare they go on strike when they have these gilt-edged pensions that are going to be guaranteed while the rest of us have to work for a living?"

Obvious uproar. Over 21,000 complaints to the BBC. The main public sector trade union has called for his sacking. Even the prime minister, David Cameron, said to be a personal friend of Clarkson's, was forced to comment ("a silly thing to say... I'm sure he didn't mean it").

It will blow over, but will not be forgotten. However, Clarkson (though he probably doesn't twig) does has a serious point. The British public sector has become an economic absurdity, and economic absurdities in the long run face correction. The bigger the absurdity, the bigger the correction.

Amid the outrage, that point has been lost. Over the Blair-Brown years, the UK's public sector has been silently bloating, soaking up the slack in the labour market caused by 1.7 million manufacturing jobs heading east. Paid for at first by GDP growth and windfalls such as the sale of 3G licences netting £23 billion in 2000, this scheme started becoming unworkable as recession struck in 2008/9; since then, these additional public sector jobs (and their attendant pension schemes) were increasingly paid for out of debt.

Now, many British public sector workers are living a life of entitlement ("I'm doing the public a service, so the taxpayer owes me"). Well, nie do końca. It's time to count the cost. In Poland, for example, the minister of administration, Michał Boni, has calculated that it costs 50 złotys to administer 50 złotys of state benefits. This will have to change if Poland is to escape the fate of Greece and Italy. Britain is much further down the road to ruin than Poland (which as least has plausible growth scenarios to keep investors interested). Britain's public sector workers need to wake up to that unpleasant reality.

Until relatively recently, Britain was a land of pubs full of laughter, informed conversation and cigarette smoke. Each pub would have its own Jeremy Clarkson holding forth at the bar after three pints of Old Nutkin and commenting wittily upon the affairs of the day. Today, Britain's pubs tend to be joyless, sterile and half-empty places; the nation instead imbibes Herr Lidl's 3-month-old 'Don Pedro' whisky-style beverage at home in front of 46" TV sets. This, I think, rather explains the Clarkson phenomenon - we still need our public house pundits.

Sadly though, Clarkson is outliving his usefulness. How much of Britain's economic woe is the result of consumers believing that they were entitled to purchase that car Clarkson drooled over on Top Gear. He should give up driving expensive cars; instead, he should go to his nearest adult education college and study for a Higher National Diploma in economics. Then, he'll be able to apply his ready wit to affairs of state with at least some underpinnings of theoretical knowledge. Instinctively he's right - but his lack of gravitas now sits uncomfortably upon a man of his age.

This time last year:
Today, not so good.

This time two years ago:
In which I walk to work

This time four years ago:
Act 1, Scene 1, a blasted heath