Curse of the Little Hitlers

This story has been doing the rounds over the past couple of days. It is worthy of comment because in the great ID cards debate, it is the little things that get overlooked and Carol Sarler brings the matter neatly back to Earth with a satisfying bump.

“No. It is not Big Brother who should alarm us; it is that ubiquitously chippy runt-of-a-litter Little Brother, already in waiting by the million for his reincarnation as, for instance, my wine merchant above, so he can dedicate himself to making the rest of us miserable for no other reason than that he likes it and he can.

No matter how they puff their chests, these really are the little people. Little in heart, little in soul. ‘It’s company policy’ may well be their most regularly cited excuse – and, to be sure, managements do make rules – but when it comes to the interpretation of those rules, the further down the food chain you go, the more you find that the spirit and the letter are divided by nothing more gainful than power or spite.”

I believe that she is absolutely right. I was shouted at last week by a traffic warden in Exeter. Okay, yes, I had stopped in the “wrong” place. I was in an unfamiliar vehicle in an unfamiliar town, searching for an unfamiliar address. I needed to stop just long enough to get my bearings. Now this “gentleman” could have taken the opportunity to be polite, but he declined; instead opting for the bellowing across the street method guaranteed to draw attention to the matter – and, undoubtedly, to his tiny piece of authority and, boy, was he going to exercise it.

Of course, Charles Clarke tells us that the police will not be given extra powers and will not be able to demand that we produce our identity cards. For the sake of argument, I will assume that he is being genuine and that this will always be the case. However, there will be plenty of puffed up bully boys who will seize upon the opportunity to demand to see ID before a transaction takes place. There are those who, given a uniform and a hint of authority will relish the chance to bluster about and make life awkward for their fellow citizen, because as Ms Sarler points out, they can. Much like the traffic warden in Exeter the other week.

All of this reminds me of school. I was a quiet, introverted child; different from the norm. Consequently I was the target of bullies. It was my father who set me straight. He enrolled me in judo classes, insisting that this would give me the confidence to stand up to the bullies and that would make them leave me alone. I recall the stunned silence, punctuated by my assailant’s strained breathing that first time I used Ippon Seoinage in anger. I only did it the once. Once was enough. My lesson was this: never, ever tolerate bullies. It is a lesson I took with me from the playground to the adult world. I operate a zero tolerance approach to the puffed-up, self-important little tyrants that would dominate us in our lives when we interact with authorities or even in our business transactions. I do not plan to change this approach.

When I conduct business I share with that person or organisation just so much of my identity as I see fit for the purposes of the transaction. My motorcycle dealer, for example, has my name, address and telephone number. This enables him to register a new machine in my name and contact me in the event of a recall. He needs no more than this, and does not have access to any more than this. There are many transactions that do not require me to identify myself at all, therefore, I don’t. Because I don’t need to, I make that choice. The little Hitlers would seek to remove that choice because the bill would give them the power to do so and they will relish every moment of it.

Unfortunately, the solution is not as simple as a well delivered Ippon Seoinage, more’s the pity…