The Grumpy Old Blog

To those who know me, they are well-aware that mentioning HR (Human Resources) to me is the equivalent of holding a red rag in front of a bull. I don't just dislike HR. I detest it. With a vengeance. Had I the money, I would have it proscribed and banned. It is the business equivalent of ISIS or Hamas. Terrorism, just without the violence. I appreciate not everyone can get everything right all the time, and while HR people allegedly should have some sort of commitment to their employees, not just kowtowing to cowardly directors, it's not exactly life-threatening (although certainly nearly always job-threatening) should they mess things up, which they always seem to do with absolutely no effort. Now, the unfortunate thing is, I am not wrong. And I find this disturbing. And it's all based on my own experience of HR. I had a particular experience that I would rather forget. I can't go into detail, because it was so illegal, hurtful and downright dishonest that just...

It seems to be coming a regular feature of the British way of life. The banking chiefs (not the ordinary, customer-facing members of staff, you will note), not content with their huge and immoral remunerations and unwarranted honours from HM The Queen, continue to line their pockets unhindered and unconcerned. The banking chiefs get found out. The FSA (Financial Services Authority and not the Food Standards Agency, although I suspect given the use the former has been, the latter might in all probability be more effective in these matters) does nothing, having forgotten, once again, to put its teeth in that morning. Yes, read all about their tranche of successes in Private Eye magazine every fortnight! The banking chiefs get away with it. Already on hefty 7-figure salaries, through the kindness of their own hearts, and as a wonderful, thoughtful, empty and meaningless gesture, forgo their annual bonus because of the absolute hash they make of things. Big deal, as th...