Holocaust mockers are just kids being silly

October 30, 2009

I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for the Auckland Grammar students who have been psychologically hammered and publically shamed and humiliated to the point of tears for their thoughtless tomfoolery in mocking the Auckland Museum’s Nazi display.

On countless occasions through my life, and of course especially in my teenage and early adult life, I’ve been unable to resist poking fun at the good and bad, the silly and the serious, and just acting the goat among friends. I love satire. Without trying, it seems, I look at the funny or quirky side of any issue as well as its serious facet. Age hasn’t dulled my instinct to think satirically (even about some things I think are quite important) although perhaps it has given me wisdom to choose time and place a little better.

If on every occasion I’d been hauled up in front of stern Keepers of Morals and others who believe “serious things should only be taken seriously”, I would have had all enjoyment of the complexities and ironies of life well and truly beaten out of me by now, and I’d like to think society would have been the poorer for it.

Sure, those schoolboys acted in poor taste. Certainly they should have kept the photos of their mock adulation of the swastika off the internet. Likewise for the Lincoln University students at their bad-taste Nazi party. But they were not seriously trying to make a point about German Nazism or the Holocaust. They were having fun, as teenagers will and do, and just going a step too far by publicising it.

In good time, today’s and tomorrow’s young people will learn about the horrors of that part of World War 2, which for them now is a generations-past event, the same way that the Boer War was for me when I was young. They will learn and absorb it in a more holistic fashion through normal educational events and adult social activities.

They do NOT need the public humiliation and shame visited upon them by those of my WW2-remembering generation who have a limited sense of humour and lack generosity of spirit.

The Holocaust was a blight on the 20th Century, one of several (including Rwanda and Vietnam) which showed the absolute worst our “civilised” humanity is capable of. But I believe that if we’re ever to move totally past it (and I hazard to suggest that we absolutely must sooner or later) we must stop demonising and shaming people who offer any sort of light-hearted take on it. Especially ebullient young people who are yet to understand all the subtleties underlying such issues.

3 Comments | Media reporting, Uncategorized | Tagged: | Permalink
Posted by David Armstrong

Engagement with gangs is more useful than angry posturing

October 25, 2009

A lot of the usual fuss last week followed revelations that Pita Sharples last autumn entertained, at taxpayers’ expense, some Maori men who are leaders of gangs, to discuss recent government moves as they may affect Maori and/or gangs (precisely what was discussed has not to my knowledge been explained).

I wrote several months back about my belief that visceral reactions to such confrontational events (ie, events which confront mainstream, middle-class, Anglo-Saxon culture) rarely have positive results, and usually lead to further confrontation and less understanding down the line. In this case, the standard visceral reaction is: How dare Sharples talk with these scum! How dare he use our money to get them together! How dare he legitimise what gangs do to harm our communities and our country!!

I won’t go through my argument against chest-thumping posturing again. I just want to re-iterate that of the two options here – condemn all contact with gang members as wholly evil people, or engage with them to understand their perspective and seek avenues of inclusion – I’m pretty sure which is more likely to produce sustainable, positive results in the long run.

I may be wrong but . . . . engaging and talking open-mindedly with people whose way of life we cannot condone at least provides possibilities of change for the better, for all of us. Chest-beating, posturing, outright rejection and attributing only evil to this small but significant group in our society merely makes things worse.

I’m confident that if any change is to take place in the minds and attitudes of gang members and gang leadership, it is far more likely to take place through conversation, encouragement and inclusion than through being shouted at, excluded and condemned carte blanche.

I’m happy enough to see a bit of my tax money go toward maintaining inclusive dialogue and engagement between people who have widely different views on how society should operate. I’d rather that than seeing a majority of self-important mainstreamers refusing to talk with or accept, or even acknowledge any worth of, a small minority of angry margin-dwellers.

And if it so happens that gangs respect Pita Sharples for his willingness at least to listen to them and try to involve them in decision making and planning, then that can only be good.

Leave a Comment » | Maori issues, Race relations | Tagged: , , , | Permalink
Posted by David Armstrong

My very own outsourced Call Centre experience

October 14, 2009

Most of us by now have a tale to tell about an irritating experience with a faceless “customer service” representative of a big corporation talking from some outsourced call centre in an Asian country. I’ve had a few relatively minor ones – until last week when I experienced a beauty, “good” enough to share on this blog.

I guess I should have backed off when my first inquiry of this computer manufacturer showed the operator didn’t know what GST was. But I shrugged it off and continued.

I won’t name names, but it was all to do with purchasing a new desktop computer. Until now I’d always bought from a local supplier, knowing there was someone to go back to if there were any problems. This time I was seduced by an advertisement that came in the post from one of the world’s leading PC makers which sells only (in New Zealand anyway) through an online shop. If you think you know which corporation I’m talking about, you’re probably right – rhymes with Hell.

The advertisement, and the company’s New Zealand website, showed nowhere whether the price included GST so I phoned the 0800 number to check. It took three customer service operators before I got the answer I needed, though part of the trouble may have been the inevitable difficulty on both sides in understanding our use of English.

The eventual answer was what I’d hoped for, so I went ahead with placing an order. The website was well constructed and user friendly and it took little effort to configure the machine with the required number of gigabytes, size of screen, storage, etc. The final step was to check out, which I did through successful entry of my debit card details.

Then the fun began, though initially without any real hint of trouble ahead.

Normally when buying online I get a printout of the final confirmation page, but my printer wasn’t connected, and the website told me that details of my order would be emailed to me. I completed the process – or at least I thought I did!

I waited for the promised email. An hour. A day. Two days. Nothing. OK, not a problem, I’ll phone the 0800 and find out what happened and what to do.

The first thing their Customer Support department wanted to know was my order number.

I don’t have one; I never received the email telling me what my number is.

We cannot track your order without an order number. Do you have a customer number?

No, I didn’t receive the email so cannot provide you with one.

Then you must complete the order.

How do I do that?

Enter the website and complete the order.

(I’ll break this dialogue for a theatrical aside to remind us that many of these questions and answers (and the ones to come later in this article) were spoken several times as neither of us could understand all the words spoken and the line was scratchy. My wife was amazed at how calmly I kept on saying with great deliberateness “I’m sorry, I cannot understand what you are saying. Please speak more slowly.”)

But how can I pick up the order so far so I can complete it?

Use the order number.

But …… etc. This little Catch-22 circle was spun out with three operators, after each said they would pass me on to a supervisor. Finally one asked me my name and email address, and soon said he had found my aborted order in the logs and gave me the associated customer number.

So what do I need to do to complete the order?

Just go into the website and place the order.

From scratch? What happens if my first order is processed?

That will not be a problem.

So I went back into the website, configured my new PC (and fortuitously got a better deal on the monitor for just a few extra dollars), and did the debit card thing. This time the order details came through on the promised email, and I thought it was all over bar the wait for the product, the arrival of which was promised within an acceptable 10 days.

Two days later I was checking my bank account online and …. ‘ello ‘ello ‘ello, what have we here? Two debit withdrawals, both for amounts around $2200 but not identical. I checked with my bank and they confirmed they were both executed by the computer maker, and that the bank could do nothing about it – I needed to sort it out with my supplier. They had charged me for both computer orders!! Lucky I happened to have enough cash in there to cover it without going into overdraft.

Back onto the 0800 number, and the start of a conversation (well actually somewhere between 8 and 12 conversations) that took a perspirational 45 minutes to complete.

Order number please?

Well, my problem is that you have charged me and deducted money for two PCs but I only ordered one. I want a refund on the first one for which the order was not processed.

Could you provide the order number for your purchase?

That was done.

Do you want a refund for this machine?

No, the refund is for the machine that I initially ordered but the order did not complete so I did it again. Someone in your workplace there told me to do that.

What was the order number?

I never received one because the email never arrived. I talked with one of your people and they gave me a customer number and told me to place the order again.

OK, what is your customer number?

Fortunately I’d written it down, so told her. That cannot be your customer number – that’s for Australian customers and you’re in New Zealand, right?

Steam starts to build up in the space between my ears. Hopefully you get the basic picture; I won’t repeat this to-and-fro for as many times as it happened – with about 8 to 12 operators (I wasn’t counting at the time). Each time it was getting too far from their working script and testing tempers, or if neither of us could understand each other’s accent, the operator said I would be transferred to someone else. A few times I was told specifically that I would be transferred to the “Refunds” department, but in most cases it was “One moment please sir, I’ll transfer you to someone who can help you.”

As it went on, it became apparent to this increasingly cynical soul that all these operators were in a big room with dozens, perhaps hundreds of colleagues each being paid to clear up issues as soon as possible. Complex issues take too long, and mine required too much off-script thought so they just shoved me onto the next colleague in the answering queue. This tactic became obvious because after every single transfer I heard the standard Customer Service introduction and had to start from scratch yet again.

You want to cancel your order number xxxxxx and obtain a refund?

Not that one; the other order that was never completed. You’ve withdrawn money from my bank account for two PCs but I only wanted one. I want to cancel the order for $2235.16.

The amount you have been charged for your order is $2247.58. Do you want to cancel that order and be refunded?

No, that machine I want. I was charged for that plus the other order that was never completed.

What was that order number sir?

You will be pleased to know that in the end – after about 45 minutes – I was placed with someone who (a) spoke reasonable English and (b) took a few more seconds to listen to me and check through the logic and sequence of the transaction logs. He quickly spotted the problem and initiated the process which, a few nerve-wracking hours later, resulted in an email confirming the cancellation of my initial order and the in-writing promise of a full refund.

Which happened a few days later.

Soon after, I took possession of a fine Dell computer that’s been humming ever since. So … no damage in the end, but perhaps I aged a few extra months in the process.

5 Comments | Business | Tagged: , | Permalink
Posted by David Armstrong

New life within a sustainable community – my move to Motueka

October 6, 2009

This blog site has been on idle for a few weeks because we’ve moved house and town and there have been more pressing domestic tasks to attend to than typing out my rambling thoughts. But I’m taking time out to mark the relocation from city to town with some early impressions about life in smaller communities.

I’ve lived for several decades in Christchurch (population about 400,000) but have now moved to Motueka (pop said to be around 7000). Apart from the obvious attractions of a milder and softer climate, a more vibrant, greener landscape, proximity to the sea, and the ability to walk or bike safely to most local destinations, plus the desire to pre-retire in a more laid-back setting, it was the philosophy of community that led my wife and me here.

I may be wrong but …… as Western society’s blinkered march to an unsustainable future – in both economic and environmental terms – steadily becomes the reality this country faces, I have become more convinced than ever that the only sensible answer is living within communities.

I don’t mean communes or small, isolated groups of dropouts.  I mean communities which are:

  • large enough to provide all the basics for a good standard of living and entertainment and a productive future for coming generations,
  • but small enough for its participants to be able to exist without dependency on large amounts of resources outside the community,
  • and small enough for the whole of the area to be available and reachable by members without the absolute need for cars (or gumboots),
  • and (crucially important to me) small enough that willing individuals can make a difference to the well-being of the whole community, rather than being just a tiny tadpole in a vast lake.

So with this idea at the back of our mind, my wife and I chose Motueka as our new home. Wonderful climate and environment, friendly people and, crucially, everything we’ll really need within a few square kilometres, to share with the other 6998 residents.

The fourth factor in the list – being able to make a real difference – was reinforced to me a few days ago when exploring some of the parks and walking areas of our new home town. We came upon a wetland park near the estuary, a lovely tranquil setting with pukekos, ducks and tuis enjoying natural-looking ponds and large native trees.

A visitor information board within the park told of its history – how it remained a swamp while the town grew, but a resident named Mr Bensemann (doubtless with a bit of money, but more importantly with a generous community spirit) gradually reclaimed and fashioned it, planted it out, and left it for public use (along with some adjacent sports fields).

And I considered how this is made possible within a town this size, and how such gestures make thriving communities what they are. Within real communities, people value other people’s contributions.

In Christchurch there are some much appreciated reserve areas gifted for public use by early owners, but the bulk of the amenities that I used and was aware of were council owned and maintained; nice but anonymous. They were small parts of the city, which some residents knew about but most never frequented. When a community gets to that size (I suggest perhaps bigger than about 50,000 people) then much of what is contributed by members is lost in the urban spread and the busy commerce that makes up city living.

This verbal ramble is not meant to belittle cities and the work of people who live within them. I did my best while I was a city dweller for all those years, but I doubt that many people noticed or benefited. It will be interesting to see if living in a smaller integrated community will provide more ultimate satisfaction and worthwhile participation. At least it should provide a more sustainable way of life.

7 Comments | Community living | Tagged: , | Permalink
Posted by David Armstrong