There has been much discussion during the summer about the debt that government and numerous public bodies have notched up on our behalf. Depending on what criteria and time scale you use, it seems that every man, woman and child in Britain will, – on the government’s behalf – have to pay off about fifty thousand pounds each during the next thirty-five years. Given that many of us are unlikely to last that long, it will be our children and grandchildren who will have pay back today’s borrowings as well as making their own way in life.
Historians might tell us that not much has changed, and remind us that mediaeval Kings, Sheriffs, Barons and Bishops also took taxes, tithes and tolls from our ancestors. These historians might also however, point out that we can still see much of what was done with that money, because Castles, Abbeys and Cathedrals have survived to add interest and value to our lives today.
No doubt much of what our ancestors’ paid as tax was wasted on fripperies for the ruling elite of the day, and this summer’s revelations about parliamentary and BBC expenses shows that not much has changed. However, I do wonder what, if anything, is being done with our taxes today that will still be around to enrich the lives of our descendents over the next eight hundred years. Somehow; I do not think concrete leisure centres and breeze block training centres will quite do the trick.
Local children however are more fortunate as they will still have lots of wonderful mediaeval buildings which are currently being looked after by local people, such as the ladies on the church flower rota and the current clutch of churchyard mowers.
In a previous View from the Pew, I compared the churchyard mowers and strimmers of today with the sextons of old, but what I didn’t mention then, was that as a callow and naïve youth, I had once been confronted by an angry soul who was annoyed that some tombstones at St Stephen’s in a Nottinghamshire village were horizontal. I sympathised but pointed out that it was vandals who had knocked the stones over but, that by laying them flat the task of mowing was a lot easier for the volunteers who tended the churchyard. At the time of confrontation I had hoped that the man, who was making the fuss and wanted to re-site the stones, might also be willing to mow around them. However it was not to be.
All this was years ago and my naïve youthful years are long gone but since then, I have often noticed how there are a lot of folk like him who think they know what needs doing, but there are fewer who actual do it. History has also taught me that our leaders are, like him, usually better at telling others what to do, than in doing it themselves. Despite this however, they are always adept in the dubious craft of getting their hands on our money.
Talking of devious ways of getting money however, reminds me of a tale I heard at the Royal Welsh Agricultural Show a couple of years ago. The story goes that a struggling hill farmer had decided to sell a very promising greyhound but that the dog died unexpectedly leaving the owner distraught. However, an enterprising friend suggested he could turn the loss to his advantage by using the internet to raffle the dog at a £1 per ticket. The owner protested that he couldn’t do that as the dog was dead and sooner or later the punters would find out. “Oh no they won’t,” said his friend, “those whose tickets you don’t draw will believe someone else has won it, and you simply give the winner his £1 back plus a tenner for his trouble.”
View from the Pew 