The Hames Report

Emotional Ellipses

For increasing numbers of people today life can seem relentlessly challenging, confusing, raucous, fast and joyless. I am sure we all experience those moments where reality seems so sterile and engineered that it becomes a struggle to relax, idle the time of day in quiet reflection, or simply stand and stare in awe at some natural wonder. For some, including a majority of young people, not to be incessantly checking their current social status on a screen is unthinkable. Yet psychologists are now concerned that this altered state slowly corrodes any capacity to appreciate ambient aesthetics or sensations - potentially leading to disquiet, and ennui regarding the future, that can be spiritually destructive.

Naturally, in the process of coping with life’s complications, we often opt to leave out, or delay, perhaps fleetingly, stuff that might otherwise keep us engaged, happy and content. This is often done in an attempt to please others, avoid unnecessary quarrels, or ward off issues that are disturbing. It might be that we defer going to see a movie in order to stay at work and complete a task with the team. Or we might go along with the desires of our partner to have a night out on the town, rather than tinkering around at home.

In the end, though, we suffer if these emotional ellipses are used too much merely to help us get through the day. Their loss can be enervating. Eventually it wears us down. Holding back from being authentic, by thinking and acting in ways that do not make sense, do not feel sincere, fail to give us real joy, and do not revitalise our sense of well-being, is harmful to our physical health, state of mind, and our relations with family and friends. It also steels us in ways that must eventually erode our humanity – particularly our ability to empathise and to show compassion.

Avoiding solitude has become a modern quest. Held to be synonymous with loneliness by many, it has been given a bad press. Our ability to be free from associative distractions is one of the most precious gifts we have. Avoiding isolation means we risk drowning in the clamour of everyone else’s existence, without respite. When we allow this there is no room for self-examination, no chance to be alone with ourselves, to contemplate, to be creative, to listen to what moves in our hearts, and to reflect deeply on our affiliation with nature. There are numerous benefits to spending time alone. Used judiciously, solitude advances our emotional and spiritual states and matures human consciousness.

Likewise, daydreaming is commonly considered to be an extravagance we can ill-afford. Workers caught in a state of reverie are often reprimanded for wasting time. Little or no thought is given to the imaginative value that detachment from our direct surroundings can bring. Daydreaming allows us the chance to blur and escape reality - if only for a few moments - and to enter a state where congenial thoughts and possibilities are imagined and constraints fade away. This restores hope and nurtures optimism - qualities that are badly needed in a society depleted by the twin deities of mammon and materialism.

Shunning optimism is to live in a world of anxiety and pain by choice. Lacking any shred of hope, mutuality, or acts of benevolence, those inhabiting a world without optimism live in constant dread, invariably ascribing malicious motives to others and interpreting every twist and turn in the worst possible light. In this amazing world of ours, that generations before us helped shape, the confidence that comes from knowing that together we can cultivate still better futures is absolutely crucial. Without hope the truth will always appear dark and forbidding. On the other hand, habitual disassociation of our internal moods from external factors, no matter how oppressive, is also unwise. Recent research suggests that tempering a perpetually cheery disposition with a small dose of realism, or possibly even pessimism, might be the best way to grow resilience as we learn how to cope with the pressures of a society in transition.

In the cut and thrust world of competition based on scarcity, kindness is often considered an old-fashioned trait. A weakness rather than an instinctual quality requiring strength and courage. This is to be lamented. For without acts of generosity we are nothing more than sterile automata in a progressively inhospitable land. Our humanity shrinks when we shun love and kindness. Yet increasingly, or so it seems, a sense of entitlement gives those who claim to lead the option to act selfishly, cruelly, without one iota of compassion. Showing generosity, affection, warmth, and a concern for others, is a sign we comprehend there is more to life than money, work and hedonistic pleasures.

Silence is the canvas on which the variegated sounds of nature and the miracle of music emerge. In history silence was an important factor in many cultural rituals. But today there is no silence – our environment is contaminated by the urban racket of human activity and the pervasive hum of electrical energy. It is not simply that we have become frightened of silence, it is that we feel compelled to fill any void with extraneous sound – even pollution of the most prosaic kind. These days even the stillness and quiet of the night succumbs to the drone of distant traffic. If we avoid silence, allowing it to be drowned out by the din of our industrial existence, we will eventually become deaf to the quiet within - that divine mind of inner silence.

The sensory and emotional experience of pain is a symptom of an underlying condition. A life full of pain can be unbearable, while a life without pain is a life of numb blandness. Yet our contemporary obsession with the use of chemicals to eliminate, or at least alleviate, pain threatens any capacity to uncover the true causes of depression and sickness. Not all pain can be medicated. Using packs of pills to avoid pain allows us to bypass an important truth: the pain we suffer is not always a pathology; it can result from one or more exterior conditions: namely the way we feel and are treated by others. Pain is often a sign that our instinctive psychological needs are not being met. In that context, it is useful to reframe pain as a form of grief – for ourselves, our communities, and for the spiritual deterioration of the global technocracy into which we are born. Human beings have an innate need to be loved and to feel valued. If we sense these factors are missing, feel unduly constrained or manipulated, are filled with despair about the future, or are unable to find real meaning in how we choose to spend our time - whether that be work of play - we will surrender far more readily to depression and disease. The solution is to reconnect with our most basic needs that are not being sufficiently met within the commotion of modern life: a sense of community, of connectedness and being valued, true purpose, appreciation, and control over who we are and what we do.

One of the most disturbing trends of our time is the avoidance of compassion. Not in any individual sense, of course, but in the caring nature we are prepared to share with others as members of a single human family. For some reason, we downplay the importance of empathy and affiliation, preferring to value and reward more alpha male characteristics in a society punctuated by resolute metaphors - such as fierce competition, delivering the goods, mean business, dead wood, get the axe, sink or swim, buckle down, punch above one’s weight, hard cash, shape up, acid test, and tough love. In a commercially-orientated civilisation, caring for others has become optional, and conditional. Acts of compassion must make us feel good and look good. Above all else, those receiving our consideration must have something we covet in order to gain our attention and assistance. And even then, we will only afford them limited care. Altruism lies dying, and the soul of our humanity along with it.

 

[i] Depending on their context and placement [in a sentence] ellipses can indicate an unfinished thought, a leading statement, a slight pause, an echoing voice, or a nervous or awkward silence. I extend the meaning here to include emotional ellipses, which I define as qualities we ignore or leave out of our lives but which are essential to our spiritual and emotional well-being.

Reinventing Development

The Way It Is

In 1945, the year of my birth, there were around 1.8 billion people inhabiting the planet. This was not many more than the previous millenium. Today there are more than seven billion. Yet the sixth billionth child is only 13 years old! That gives us an idea of the exponential explosion of our species over the past century. The causes for such a remarkable surge in human fertility are various. Two stand out above all others…

1. Advances in health care, the elimination of many life-threatening diseases, new drugs, prosthetics, non-invasive surgery and, more recently, genetic modification, have all allowed us to live longer, healthier lives. That was fairly predictable. But the second had unforseen consequences.

2. A geo-engineering project by two scientists, Haber and Bosch, resulted in a method for extracting nitrogen from the air and synthesising it in ammonia that could then be used as a fertiliser. At scale the new fertilisers produced an abundance of food. Unpredictably they also signficantly altered the natural global nitrogen cycle - polluting groundwater, depleting the natural capacity of soil to grow food and increasing levels of atmospheric nitrogen dioxide - a potent "greenhouse" gas.

The overcrowding caused by seven billion people is resulting in consumption rates that are not sustainable – particularly given that many of the resources upon whichwe rely are finite or simply cannot be replenished overnight. This puts a premium on oil, gas and other petrochemicals, for example, raising the cost of staple foods, throwing even more people into poverty, and putting stress on myriad downstream systems and their associated practices.

Whether it is food, education, corrections, health care, energy or social development, most systems in use today were designed for a different era and a much smaller human family. Many are not working well today. Some, particularly a few life-critical systems concerned with energy, food and water, are in early stages of collapse. 

As systems begin to fail we blame each other and conflict increases. Meanwhile a sense of anxiety, and a concern for the future, has become pervasive - pushing many young people to the edge. Alienation, poverty, youth crime, substance abuse and suicide are becoming a disturbing feature of contemporary life under this existential shadow.

The key theories of human behaviour, together with the principles on which our world-system is predicated and which we assume to be enduring traits (like competition) are inceasingly unsustainable. Some are even irrelevant. Moreover systems that served us well in the past have become ineffective while others are actually detrimental to human health and well being. 

The solution stares us in the face. We must reinvent systems, institutions and practices we once thought permanent but no longer benefit us. Reinvention is the most urgent and compelling need of our time. It is also the most apposite developmental narrative.

A New Narrative

Reinvention is not some implausible theme from a science fiction movie. On the contrary reinvention is a natural part of evolution - a key element of what it means to be alive and human. It is no surprise we are immersed in processes of reinventing. But the new story, a narrative of social transformation, mutuality and co-creation, is rapidly moving into a higher gear. It has become crucial for the purposeful advancement of humanity.

Seemingly nothing is exempt, nothing quarantined from the need for reinvention. Through the convergence of human physiology, robotics and nanotechnology we are reinventing what defines our physical nature. We are reinventing how we connect with and relate to each other, through the new social media of Twitter and Facebook. We are reinventing how we learn, how we organise, and how we manage. We are reinventing business models.

We are even reinventing capitalism - moving away from focusing just on shareholder wealth to a model of co-creating shared value. This is being done through:

• Reconceiving products and markets [for example through initiatives like the Global Innovation Commons, open-source design and crowdsourced funding]
• Redefining productivity in the value chain [for example by reducing the use of energy, logistics and resources; investing in socially positive procurement and distribution practices; focusing on employee wellbeing; and establishing deep roots in the communities in which companies operate]
• Redesigning the links between companies and communities [for example via industrial ecosystems based upon symbiotic clusters in defined communities.

In all these examples an underlying leitmotif is apparent: they all aim to create wealth for those involved as well as having positive social impacts. In all of them, too, new values emphasising openness, cooperation, transparency, reciprocity, adaptiveness, generosity of spirit, empathy and collaboration are evident.

Four Stories

So what does the new story of reinvention hold for social development? Here are four cases that challenge how we have traditionally thought about aid and development.

1. Paul van Zyl was an eminent human rights lawyer until he transformed ethical markets previously dominated by the Oxfam model. His company occupies a position in luxury-end ready-to-wear fashion. Maiyet uses local niche artisans in Peru, India, Kenya and Columbia to produce highly sought-after clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry and other accessories which are sold through prestigious outlets in the major cities of the world. Through Van Zyls example we immediately grasp that human talent is both universal, refined, and not restricted to peasants weaving baskets or whittling bamboo whistles in perpetuity.

2. Meechai Viravaidya is known throughout his native Thailand as Mr Condom. He is the pioneer of business enterprises (like the Cabbages & Condoms restaurant chain) whose overriding purpose is to be profitable so as to support NGOs focused on tackling family planning, rural poverty and HIV/AIDS. These and other initiatives strive to put the power of informed action back into the hands of local communities, especially women and children.

3. Rob Smith is an entrepreneur from Navada. Starting life as a venture capitalist he has since become more concerned with human development. Chrysallis is the world's first behavioural change platform, enabling people to download personalized "Paths" that support the exact change they want to make in their lives. Paths are being created by thousands of experts, authors and researchers around the world looking for a fast and powerful way to deliver their expertise to millions of people through a real-time, adaptive learning application on mobile, desktop and slate computers.

4. Jan Owen is the CEO of the Foundation for Young Australians. She was recently voted by the Financial Review as the most influential woman in the country. Jan is responsible for a scheme that provides a structured journey into volunteering and global citizenship for young Australians aged between 13 and 20. After participating in up to five years of volunteering and social action opportunities, Young People Without Borders culminates in an extended one-year volunteering placement in Australia or the Asia-Pacific. This is seen as the launch pad for post-school life. Young People Without Borders is intended to transform a generation - embedding the notion of contribution and giving back to society into the DNA of all young Australians.

Some Lessons:

• From Information to Transformation

The traditional paradigm of development, with its delivery mechanisms based upon informational and instructional modes of communicative action (including gift-giving and donating) is becoming obsolete. Sadly it has too often resulted in co-dependent relationships twixt agency and beneficiary. This is probably unethical - especially when new skills and knowledge that would amputate such unhealthy relationships are not dispensed.

We must now make conscious attempts to direct our energy within transformational modes of empowerment in which beneficiaries of development are encouraged to contribute to society in ways that do not result in disadvantage or cause them to lose their dignity and self-respect. In the process we must appreciate that sophisticated talent exists everywhere. It is not confined to the so-called developed world.

• The new literacy of development

In transformational mode, the capacity to deliver (any service whatsoever) applies equally to both agency and beneficiary. All parties must engage in the evolution of a new literacy - involving the application of design thinking and language - able to include and transcend any tensions and dilemmas that previously manifested as impediments to effectiveness.

This will require us to change many of our assumptions about our own roles and responsibilities in the unending quest for human advancement, equality and justice. It necessitates a shift in the conversation from our comfortable exterior world of budgets and measurable goals to one of deeper forensic interrogation of our interior values, belies and assumptions concerning what really matters.

• Redesigning systems

Any dynamically complex system - including our current world-system – can only create what it has been designed to create. If we view the state of any system, or the outcomes the system produces, as unsatisfactory, we need to redesign the system – or at least our intentions and the constraints embedded within the system that cause it to behave in the only way it can. If we really want to eliminate poverty, for example, we can do that. But we will need to fundamentally alter our methods of distribution (of food, learning, technology, health care, etc) for that to happen. Anything else is self-deception.

•  The “feel good” factor

If innovation of our world-system is required in order for development to advance, then possibly the most vital target for innovation relates to the “missionary" mindset. This invariably interprets human development purely in terms of helping those less fortunate than ourselves as a means to our own salvation. Whether this means giving a couple of coins to a beggar on the street, “adopting” a child growing up in an exotic land far away, or serious involvement in social enterprise, the return on our “investment” is too often a feel good factor that allows us to tick the box, convinced we have done all we can to assist, thus absolving us from the guilt we would otherwise feel. We can then conveniently ignore the problems, convinced we have done all that we can do and just hoping they will go away.

•  Rapid prototyping

Results matter. As does speed. Combine both and it is far easier to attract capital whose stewards are usually impatient for a return on their investment. Unfortunately most traditional enterprises in this space, international NGOs, state governments and corporations alike, are more caught up with obsolete notions of corporate social responsibility on the one hand, and reporting their activities to make them look better (in order to attract even more funding for their obsolete mission) on the other.

In the traditional domains of aid and development the pace of actual change is glacial. Most modern initiatives that actually change people’s lives for the better, engage on the ground, speedily and without making matters worse. Fast-moving enterprises that are not weighed down by the burden of bureaucracy are able to cut through excessive red tape that causes many well-intended programs to wilt in their impact and significance.

• Provisioning for change

Focusing on money and budgets is the dead hand of social development. The obsessive need for funding constrains us, requires sustained effort from everyone concerned, and enervates new ventures. It is time for notions of scarcity to give way to an ethos of abundance. In that context, provisioning for success requires much more than just funding. It embraces what we have in abundance - ranging from entrepreneurial ideas and energy, to influential networks, partners, technologies, and passions. All of these matter just as much as funding. And if we apply the principles of impact investing, by focusing on getting results - fast and with the least disruption – the funding will appear.

• Beliefs really do matter

Traditional boundaries between sectors and activities, especially those which simply reinforce hierarchy, are rapidly disintegrating. In their place a more fluid and flexible array of alliances and partnerships are emerging in which aligned beliefs and values count for more than what is actually made. The why rather than the what becomes the ruler of success.

Take Apple, for example. Led by Steve Jobs, this company has become the most profitable company in the history of the world and one of the most admired and coveted of global brands. Apple differs fundamentally from companies like Dell. The reason is simple. Every decision taken by Apple is the result of knowing why it exists. The company’s core ethos is ingrained in the beliefs of people intent on providing us with aesthetic experiences. By contrast, Dell and Acer know only what they do. It is a profound and striking strategic difference.

Final Thoughts:

In order to be sure that social and economic development becomes sustainable we must find ways of creating shared value. Shared value arises when we comprehend the human condition in all its richness and respond in ways that recognise the need for mutuality and parity in everything we do.

In that context it is evident collaboration through partnering, fuelled by a spirit of mutuality, is becoming the most effective canvas on which social enterprise can grow. We are also witnessing similar dynamics in innovative forms of conscious investment, based upon values-aligned inputs, which are now transforming philanthropy.

That said, the gravitational pull of the past is exceptionally strong – especially in the few intergovernmental agencies whose entire ethos is bound up with helping people - and we still have much learning to do. Much that we need to let go. I am reminded of an indigenous Australian woman who, facing a task force of well-intended public servants from Canberra said: If you have come to help us, then please go away. If, however, your salvation is bound up with ours, please stay and we will work together.

This piece is reconstructed from a keynote address to a cross-sectoral conference convened by the UNDP in Bangkok, Thailand, earlier this week.

It Started With A Kiss...

So goes the first line of a popular song by the group Hot Chocolate - music dating from the early eighties. Let me assure you that this post has nothing to do with kissing or sex – or even hot chocolate come to that. Its just a teasing title. My saga actually started with a visa! But (like it says in the song) I never thought it would come to this!

I spend a great deal of my time working with governments, trying to navigate around bureaucratic blockages. Public servants cutely refer to the garbage they create as due process. From experience I have become acutely aware of how this management factory can slow things down, especially when bureaucracy is held up to be an art form. But I've also become surprisingly adept at figuring out how to take legitimate shortcuts. Or so I thought...

So it came as no surprise when it took me a little longer than expected to renew my Indian visa. Little did I realize, however, that the process upon which I was about to embark would be so inflexible and frustrating. I had a couple of weeks to go before I needed to be in Chennai for one of my clients. Plenty of time. I easily located the Indian Consulate in Bangkok. It was just down the road from where I live. What could be more convenient?

When I arrived at the security gate I learned they had recently outsourced the visa service to a third party. No problems. The new office was only a short motorbike taxi ride away. But here I encountered my first tiny glitch. As it turned out this was a sign of bigger and better things to come.

Thai nationals, you see, can process their visa within a day. Very efficient. Foreigners, however, need a minimum of five working days. There was no express facility. No under-the-table service. Fine. No stress. Clearly organizing my visa in Bangkok was out of the question. I would need to revise my plans. Again, no worries. I was travelling to Melbourne in three days. I would get it done there where, as an Australian citizen, I would presumably be able to get the visa within the three days I would be in town.

I arrived in Melbourne on Sunday evening late. Early the following morning I went online to locate the Indian Consulate in Melbourne. It was in Coburg. I would need a taxi. I tried calling the designated number to ascertain office hours. After all I didn’t want to make the journey only to discover they were closed. I tried several times but in  vain. The line seemed to be permanently diverted. I would need to take a punt on the office being open.

I was staying with friends. Charles was dropping Veronica in the city and offered to drive me to Coburg. I accepted. I had just three hours to get this task over and done with. I would leave my passport at the Consulate and pick it up again on Wednesday afternoon when I had only one appointment. I was flying out to Singapore that evening.

I took a ticket, grabbed a visa application form and awaited my turn in the queue. My number was 521. The light box flashed 497. I waited. And waited. Number 502 must have been a student of philosophy as he was questioning every clause in agonising detail. 503. 504. 505 - an entire family. 506. 507. By this time I had been waiting about half an hour and was getting slightly tetchy.

Twenty eight minutes later my number was called. I leapt to the counter eager to lodge my application and get to my first appointment of the day.

I am so sorry sir. You have come to the wrong office. We recently outsourced our visa service. You need to go to Docklands. This information was conveyed with the usual Indian charm and much nodding of the head. I smiled through gritted teeth. Okay. If I could hail a taxi on the street I could get to Docklands, which was back in the city, and lodge my application. I might just get to my appointment on time.

As luck would have it a mother with two young children in tow was just alighting from a cab at the entrance to the Consulate. Perfect. I hopped in and gave instructions to the driver. Within a few minutes my new acquaintance, coincidentally one of the many Indian students in Melbourne, had managed to manoeuvre his way into the only traffic jam in the entire city. We weren’t moving. We were well and truly stuck. The minutes ticked by…

Patiently I explained an alternative route to the driver who, judging from the gist of the conversation, had now adopted me as his new best buddy. He was born in Mumbai, had three brothers, studied business at RMIT, had a girlfriend back in India and another one here…. By the time we reached Docklands I had enough information to produce an entire cautionary tale on this young man’s life.

As I bolted from the cab he shouted something after me. But it was pouring with rain. I waved a brusque farewell and escaped to the welcoming warmth of the foyer. Most of this new building was unoccupied so it was quite easy to find the Indian Visa Service. I rummaged around for my passport. Strange. I always keep it in my left jacket pocket when I am travelling. That is the only pocket that buttons up. But it wasn’t there.

I must have turned an ashen shade because two young women rushed to my side as though I was about to cark it. My passport, I heard myself intoning several times like some disturbed inmate from an asylum. I’ve lost my passport!

Are you sure it isn’t in your other pocket sir?

Now you must appreciate dear reader that a question of that nature, posed at that particular moment, was destined only to inflame the situation. Of course it isn’t in my other pocket, I snapped back.

No sir, it is here. My new best buddy had entered the room holding my passport triumphantly above his head. You left it in my taxi dear sir. I tried to call you but you did not hear me.

I didn’t have the heart to tell the poor guy the truth. Thanks. Thanks a lot, I croaked. He chuckled quietly to himself and waited. Thankyou, I said. More warmly this time. Will you be needing my services further dear sir? No that’s fine. I’ll manage, I heard myself stutter.

I turned around. There was no queue! I strode past the ticket dispenser right up to the counter. Good morning. I need a visa.

Now if you have been paying attention, dear reader, you will no doubt have guessed what comes next in my fable. The tall Indian gentleman on the other side of the counter started nodding his head from side to side. My heart sank. We need five working days sir…

I didn’t hear the remainder of what he said. I turned and slunk out of the office. Fortunately I had five days at home the following week. Theoretically I would be able to go back to the consulate in Bangkok and get the visa – two days before I left for Chennai. But there was no leeway for any further stuff ups!

Monday morning. Back in Bangkok. I was second in the queue - behind a German who wanted to go to Goa on the way back to Munich. I quickly filled in the application form, had my photograph taken and paid the fee required for a multiple entry visa. I was handed a receipt by a charming young Thai man with impeccable English who told me to return on Friday morning before 10am with my passport.

This I duly did. Then around 4pm I went back to the visa office to collect my passport complete with visa. Painless really. Except that I then did something really foolish. I sat down and worked out how much it had actually cost me, in time and money, to get this visa which I needed for a single day’s visit to Chennai.

The visa itself was 1,200 baht. Service charge 400 baht. All up around $55. Actually getting the visa was far more expensive. My new best buddy charged me $22.60 for one of the most memorable cab rides in history. I gave him a $10 tip from a visibly shaken yet grateful passenger for returning my passport. Petrol in Bangkok going to and from the consulate a total of three times? Minimal. Let’s just write that off.

But my time… I invoice my thinking time and offsite preparation time for clients at around $800 an hour – about half my normal per diem. I clocked up a total of 3 hours and 22 minutes before I had a visa stamped in my passport. A grand total of $2,753.60!

So I would like to thank all the government bureaucracies around the world for making life so complicated. A special thanks from those of us who constantly traverse your increasingly meaningless borders. You make the task of visiting your countries almost unfathomably crazy. Let’s be honest. Visas have absolutely nothing to do with national security or the prevention of terrorism. They are simply an archaic excuse for legalized extortion and should have no place in a globalized world. You know it and we know it.

By the way, does anyone know to whom I should send my invoice? Obviously I wish to claim compliance expenses to the tune of $2,698.60. Should I send it to the Indian Ambassador here do you think? Yes. I am sure that would be it. I’ll mail my invoice tomorrow.

Strange though. I never really thought it would come to this!

FOOTNOTE:
I have just had to deal with the French Consulate in Bangkok in order to get a Schengen Visa for my wife. In their wisdom the French bureaucracy now insists that all interaction with them be via email or their website. No telephone bookings are accepted. Nor do their security personnel speak French (or English come to that). My anguish is a more frustrating story than even my Indian visa saga! But as you probably wouldn't believe it I will leave this story for another time!

Ripped and Torn

Everybody loves rules, right? Especially me. (Okay, okay. I knew I couldn’t get away with that one). But even I acknowledge some rules are necessary. They help to make our society what it is. Right? They create order and ensure that we don’t slide into utter chaos. Rules are fine! But is it not also true that rules were meant to be broken? If African-Americans hadn’t said ‘no’ to segregation, they would still be sitting at the back of the bus. If the Monty Python team hadn't said 'no' to political correctness, 'The Life of Brian' would never have made it onto our screens. And the history of scientific discoveries and technological innovation is littered with broken rules.

The point is that rules should not be rigidly set in stone. Many are temporary mechanisms that can and should change with the times. They can also occasionally be downright wrong! Right? So, let me just tell you about one rule I encountered recently. I’ll let you decide whether it should be broken or not.

During a recent trip to Singapore, my wife and I decided to have dinner at one of the city’s more in-vogue establishments. This was Suna’s first visit to Singapore and I thought we’d splash out a bit; do something different, something memorable. I bought her a new posh frock, yellow with white lace trimmings, and I wore my new Guess spectacles (metallic red with white embossed branding) for the occasion, together with a smart brown check jacket that had been tailored for me in Paris. We looked the part, if you know what I mean! Even the Beckhams would have been impressed! But we had no contingency plans for what happened next.

Having made a reservation from our hotel we turned up at the duly appointed time - only to be refused entry! I know, can you believe it, me Richard Hames, best-selling author, mentor to the stars and all-round nice guy, was refused entry. To a restaurant! This wasn’t London's Dorchester mind you. It wasn't Jamie Oliver's joint, or even Keith Floyd's new eatery in Phuket; just an upmarket spot in downtown Singapore.

Shocking isn’t it? And the reason for this unprecedented refusal of entry? I was wearing ripped jeans. I kid you not! And I don’t just mean old, really worn out, faded and tattered jeans. Oh dear me no. I was wearing expensive, fashionably ripped, Von Dutch jeans. (Okay, sometimes I am just too fashionable for my own good!)

Upon entering this swanky hotspot, we were greeted by a congenial waitress who, eyeing us up and down and keeping strictly to the rules she’d obviously learned by heart, politely informed me that I would not be allowed to enter the establishment dressed 'like that'. My wife was perfectly at liberty to dine there – but it would be without me! The waitress showed absolutely no interest whatsoever in confiscating my iPod, mind you. My immaculately messed up hair didn't rate a second glance. Even my slightly scuffed shoes escaped her attention. No. Her gaze was fixed on my torn, dark blue, perfectly fitted, designer jeans...

‘But these are not just any old ripped jeans’ I fumed, trying to contain my irritation. ‘They are designer ripped jeans. It costs a small fortune to get them looking like this!’ ‘Yes sir, I know. But rules are rules’ the humanoid sentinel replied, smiling.

Not to be outdone I looked around for a comparison. ‘Look at that guy over there’, I protested. ‘He’s wearing a dirty old tee shirt and daggy tracksuit pants’. She still wasn’t swayed. ‘And that young girl in the really short skirt and spaghetti strap top. She is showing more flesh than the sliver of skin you can barely see through my ripped jeans!’ The guardian of the restaurant’s honour remained unfazed. The smile had congealed to a waxen gaze. ‘Other customers may be offended by your attire’, she insisted. ‘But its darker in here than the other side of the moon, no one will notice’. She gave me a ‘listen mate, these are the rules, face it, you’re not coming in’ kind of stare and I reluctantly accepted defeat. Further confrontation would merely have upset my wife who, being a polite Thai woman, tries to avoid such confrontations at any cost.

Now don’t get me wrong. I do not expect special treatment (although I really should get it for being so amazingly awesome). However, having a rule stating that people wearing ripped designer jeans should be barred from entry but if you’re wearing luminous orange sweat pants and a purple dinner jacket you’re good to go, is a bit silly. Actually it’s the height of stupidity. Obviously for a place as exclusive as this one should expect some sort of dress code. But in the end it should surely be left to common sense and discretion.

As far as I know ripped jeans do not offend anyone other than fundamentalist shi’ite terrorists and a few bigoted mothers-in-law over the age of 100 (please do write and tell me if you are one of only a handful of out-of-touch, prudish, ignorant retards offended by ripped designer jeans) and as such I think its about time that someone changed the rules down there.

As for my wife and I, we had some spicy North Indian food in a small family restaurant just off Orchard Road. Let me know if you’d like the address – we would recommended it warmly to anyone looking for a relaxed evening out with great service and great food.

Of course you won’t find any smiling waitresses enforcing a silly dress code there. But then, like us, you’re probably not too fussed about that…

Get Me To A Hospital. Now!

It is generally accepted that medical practitioners, especially psychiatrists and dentists if the statistics are accurate, (and of course weirdos and eggheads) make for the worst patients. I fall into the latter category. Not the weirdo variety but the egghead type!

I hate getting ill. But when I succumb to the odd infirmity I know what is wrong with me. I do not need anyone else giving me morbid advice on how much longer I will need to suffer or the intricate details of possibly horrendous consequences. After all I will have spent hours researching every aspect of my condition on the Internet. I know my own body better than any busy physician. Come to think of it when would they find the time to keep up with all the new knowledge in their discipline? No, no, no. These days it is far better to rely on one’s own instincts and research (I invariably manage to convince myself).

As you might expect I rarely volunteer to see a doctor. Even the sight of a tongue spatula can freak me out. I much prefer to suffer in silence. I am not alone. Many people share that attitude. A recent Newspoll commissioned by the National Heart Foundation of Australia found that of the people surveyed in New South Wales, 56 per cent would not call an ambulance if they were suffering the warning signs of a heart attack. Presumably these people believe it is better not to know if they are just about to cark it! If one pretends it isn’t happening then perhaps, just perhaps, the pain will go away….  I know. That’s my logic too.

And if I’m coerced into hospital by a pitiless relative I quickly make it known that I need to approve every detail of my treatment before it happens, including what the young, pimply and obviously inexperienced doctor thinks is wrong with me, why that fearsome-looking instrument is being pointed in my direction, what the masked assistant intends doing with it, and what alternatives there are for my symptoms.

I am a doctor’s nightmare. If I am told to open my mouth I gag instantly. If I am told to swallow a pill I turn this simple task into a long drawn out epic. I leave nothing to chance. Armed with reams of information, much of which I will have committed to memory, I will obligingly counsel the attending physician about my symptomatology, suggesting quite forcefully the medication he should prescribe - and expecting nothing less than precise compliance with my wishes. I know what is wrong with me damn it!

At least, that was my view until recently. Out of nowhere I developed an ear infection and, much against my better judgment, was reluctantly persuaded to go to my local hospital for some antibiotics. Remember I live in a third world country and so this brave decision took on an element of recklessness that surprised even me. What I had failed to understand was that hospitals in Bangkok lead the world in patient care and service. Sounds like the beginning of an advertisement doesn’t it?  But I am serious. After this experience I knew, perhaps for the first time in my life, what is really meant by that overused phrase - excellent patient care.

When I entered the hospital, which was buzzing with activity, there was no queue to join and only one simple form to complete. More importantly I was made to feel like a guest, being greeted with broad smiles and a respectful ‘wai’ by everyone I encountered. Within minutes I had been personally escorted to the relevant department where my vital signs were recorded. I saw a specialist physician (a young woman) within eight minutes. Can you imagine!?

After some preliminary chat about Melbourne (my doctor had been trained at the Monash Medical Centre and was ‘homesick’ for a fair dinkum meat pie at game of footy!) I explained my symptoms and she keyed my details into her PC. After gently examining my ears she agreed with my diagnosis and wrote a prescription. This was conveyed to the pharmacy by a nurse on roller blades (I kid you not) who made it back to the lounge with my medication within four minutes.

I walked out of the hospital 30 minutes later with a course of antibiotics and expanding foam ear plugs which had been inserted to assist the spread of some additional ear drops. I also had a new plastic smartcard with my personal details embedded in it. More importantly I had felt no fear.

Bumrungrad International Hospital is what all hospitals should be like, I mused, as two nurses wished me a pleasant day, smiling and waving as I hopped into the waiting taxi. It was by far the best medical experience I have ever had. I can’t wait to get sick again! And I doubt that I will bother to research my symptoms ever again...