In the news lately is the revelation that employment law is to be changed to make it easier for bosses to fire their workers, the idea being to reduce costs of tribunals, mediation, and trade union intervention.

That's all very well, but if my experience is anything to go by, bosses are already well capable of getting workers they don't want out the door with little difficulty. I've seen employers resort to chicanery and dubious excuses succesfully for some years. Those talents aren't going to go away simply because the rules are relaxed.

I do realise these new laws are intended also to reduce certain abuses of the law. Fair enough. But it cuts both ways, and whilst I don't subscribe to the trade union movement, there is a case for their presence in the commercial sphere.

It is interesting that some time ago I predicted that our ever-generous labour government would recreate the dark satanic mills of old, with hordes of manual labourers doffing their caps as a company manager wafts by in an expensive limousine (hybrid powered of course). How remarkable that a coalition government from the opposition appears to be following the same trend. Are we heading back toward another period of strict class society? Has the permissive society started to decline in it's old age?

Eventually

My spot at the library computer was booked. I needed only wait patiently for the woman already logged on to finish her session. Time then to read the local paper and sigh at the grim folly of crime, anti-social behaviour, and lack of vacancy adverts. Not quite the hundreds of jobs the paper claims to advertise.

I heard a quiet ding!. Five minites left until she must log off, or have the computer dump her back into the real world whether she likes it or not. It's the same for me of course. The library lets you have two hours a day maximum.

She was busy. The phone rang and naturally she had to answer it. Her unfinished document was on the screen as those precious minutes ticked by. I idly wondered if she was going to get all stressed out if her work was lost.

"How do I print this?" She asked. The kindly gentleman in the next cubicle showed her how, but like any well intended technophobe, she asked me as well for confirmation and emotional support in her time of need. Yes, dear, click on that. Go on, do it!... Now!... No, not that one, this one... Yes, that one....

With the crisis heading for a mention on the evening news the librarian bounded across to assist the woman with a friendly offer to print her document from the administration account. So she walked away from the screen leaving behind a mountain of personal belongings heaped across the desk.

There we go. The computer logged her out without mercy as it inevitably does. My name appeared on the screen, declaring my ownership of the computer for the next two hours. Except all I could was stare at mass of stuff obscuring the desk.

The gentleman on the next computer probably noticed my exasperation. It doesn't do to touch other peoples belongings even in time of dire need. There such things as security cameras. "Are you going to use that computer"? He asked.

Eventually.