Tree Gang Pt. 48: Malcolm becomes a union representative

HANBRIDGE Council was a place where good ideas came to die. That was Malcolm’s take on the various positivity schemes put forward by management. Prior to the 1980s, fresh ideas were not something that ever graced the minds of your average parks manager, all of whom rose up through the ranks. Back then things were simply done as they always had been and that was that.

“If it ain’t broke, why fix it?” was the general motto and, alas, a rose-tinted myth. 

The parks department, overloaded with staff and outdated practices, was as broken as a car stuck at the side of the road with steam spouting from its engine. Come end of year, departments indulged in a feeding frenzy for stuff they didn’t need just to stop their budget for the next year being cut. 

READ MORE: Tree Gang Pt. 47: An 'interesting' colleague joins Malcolm for the day

There was no doubt the council desperately needed an overhaul and the 1980s ushered in a shiny new streamlined business-oriented council. Goodbye old-time horticultural-trained supervisors, with experience that was no longer a prerequisite, and hello to the new professional manager. These sharp-suited innovators came with keen smiles and an almost religious belief in the power of management. In a whirlwind of buzzwords and PowerPoint, the metaphorical parks department car was lifted from the side of the road and metaphorically tipped into the ditch. The council flip-flopped from one efficiency scheme to the other, until crisis management became the norm. Except, of course, in the shiny brochures spread around the offices which said how brilliantly everyone was doing. 

In the early 2000s, the latest idea to enter the stable, delivered with the fanfare of a mass meeting of council workers in the local sports hall, was Investors in People. 

The enthusiastic presenter explained it as a government project with the aim of making work better. He described it as an accredited scheme to promote continuous improvements in worker well-being and employee recognition. 

“Can’t fault that,” said Don.

Malcolm agreed. Especially when the speaker heavily promoted proper training and career development.

“Maybe I can get on a chainsaw course,” said Spudda, with innocent joy.

Malcolm shuddered at the thought of Spudda wielding a chainsaw, but agreed that he should have the opportunity. “I’ll put your name down should the occasion arise.”

“Really? Fantastic!” said Spudda.

“Lord have mercy on us,” said Karl.

Typically, Jack Dry was more cynical. “I reckon it’s just a PR exercise to make the council look good. Mark my words. Nothing will ever come of it.”

“Don’t be pessimistic, Jack,” said Malcolm. 

The smiling presenter overheard the exchange and replied: “I understand some of you may be sceptical, but this scheme aims to deliver genuine improvement. We want you workers to know that you are appreciated and valued.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, right. Words are easy. Let’s see if you can deliver.”

Over the next few months however, delivery seemed to be happening. One-to-one interviews were conducted and the atmosphere on the parks took on a rare sense of optimism. People aired their grievances and all indications suggested they were taken seriously.

For the first time, Malcolm and his team were encouraged to attend machinery trials held at Hanbridge Park, where they got to decide what new equipment the council should purchase. 

“Look at the prices on this stuff,” said Jack, looking at the array of light mobile stumpgrinders, chippers and saws on offer. “I doubt we’’ll ever see any of it.”

However, when the time came and the improved equipment appeared on their inventory, even taciturn Jack Dry was grudgingly impressed. “Well I never thought they would actually buy any of this stuff,” he said, admiring a new lightweight chainsaw. 

Malcolm grinned. “So you admit this Investors in People thing has paid off.”

Jack Dry tapped the side of his nose. “Ah, but will it last, though?”

Malcolm dismissed Jack’s pessimism. 

Under the bright blue of a summer sky, everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

Malcolm dared to dream of a better world in which one could have a career instead of just a job. However, what everyone had failed to take into account was that investments sometimes go down as well as up.

It was a cold autumn day when another new scheme arrived on the scene. Single Status.

Another national agreement (agreed with whom no one could find out) aimed at putting council employees on the same grading system, with comparable terms and conditions.

On the face of it not unreasonable, another sound idea intended to iron out the various discrepancies in pay and conditions that littered the council. When the first wave of proposals came through though, you could hear the roars of indignation across the whole parks department.

“What the hell?” said Gary. “They want to take our driving money off us?” 

Up till then, everyone who drove a van was entitled to £10 a week for vehicle maintenance duties. A long-standing agreement devised to sweeten the deal for those who took on the responsibility of driving. However, under ‘Single Status’ it was a perk and perks were a no-no. There was an inevitable backlash.

“Sod it. I’ll not drive then,” raged Gary, as he stood in the garage one morning. “Why should I risk my licence when this lot don’t?” indicating with his thumb the non-drivers of the team sitting in the van.

He had a point. Why should someone else get paid the same for doing nothing, while he struggled to negotiate the narrow, car-infested streets of Hanbridge? 

Tractor drivers and team leaders, like Malcolm, had driving written in their contracts, but not so the rest of the work force.

Months of chaos followed as formerly happy drivers refused to take the wheel. Unions were called and meetings held, but nothing could move them. Adding driving to the list of duties of a grounds employee was mooted, but immediately dropped. There were too many like Graham and Spudda who couldn’t drive. If driving was made a requirement, the council would lose half its work force, but with no way to compel folk to drive things were at an impasse.

Malcolm couldn’t blame them for taking a stand, but as team leader he was left with a substantial headache. If he was away or off sick, the team had no driver. Every time there was a team leader meeting, work ground to a halt and even simple trips to the tip had to be undertaken by Malcolm himself. Hamstrung, the whole system came crashing down.

Most mornings Malcolm would walk into the garage to find four out of eight vehicles parked up with no drivers to take them out. 

“It can’t carry on like this much longer,” said fellow team leader Jim McAdam.

Malcolm nodded in agreement. “Especially as the next lot of Investors in People reviews are coming up soon.”

Management evidently thought so too and in a hasty compromise they offered all drivers 15 minutes a day overtime for vehicle maintenance.

“I expect you all in early to adhere to the new overtime,” said boss Alan Chesterfield with a grin that looked more like a grimace.

Much more a stickler for protocol than Malcolm’s previous boss, Alan was keen to make a name for himself. Actually he already had one, ‘the Smiling Assassin’, for the cheerful way in which he tried to micro-manage his teams. 

Malcolm was too old a hand to be micro-managed and was already used to arriving early to arrange work for the day, so there was no change to his regime.

The rest of the drivers grumbled about the new early start, but showed willing for the first few days, while Alan Chesterfield checked on them. After a week, Alan’s enthusiasm for checking waned and he returned to his normal arrival time. The designated drivers were wily enough to arrive just early enough to look as if they had been there for the full 15 minutes. Lifting the bonnets on their vans to make a show of testing the oil. 

The IP interviews came around and this time the feedback was less than positive. So much so that the council scrapped the results on a technicality.

“They didn’t like what people said,” Jack Dry grinned darkly. “They know they won’t get accredited if the feedback is too negative.”

Sure enough, a few weeks later, a second round of interviews was announced and the management specifically asked staff for more positive feedback. Predictably, the number of complaints doubled and the union put forward a charge of manipulating of its members. The next thing anyone knew, the Investors in People programme was temporarily shelved due to ‘administration issues’.

There was no such shelving of Single Status, however, which continued to carve its destructive path through what remained of staff goodwill.

“Grade bloody four,” cried Don, his face turning beetroot. “It’s a bloody insult, that’s what it is. A bloody insult!”

The latest Single Status proposal was that all grounds maintenance staff should drop a grade. The prospect of losing £1,000 a year pleased no one. 

“What has the union got to say about this?” Karl asked, with grave concern.

Malcolm replied: “Good question. I think it’s time we called in all those subs we’ve paid over the years.” 

A request was promptly sent to the union office and the following Friday lunchtime an urgent meeting was arranged with union convener Russell Barrett. It took place outside the garage at Hanbridge Park and it did not go well.

“I understand your grievance,” he said. “But this scheme is city-wide. People are losing holiday entitlement, long-standing allowances and even jobs. I’ll get round to your problems when I can.”

“Yeah, when it’s too late. We pay you lot to sort this out, not to ditch us as soon as you’re needed,” said Jack Dry, stabbing a finger at him.

Russell threw his arms wide. “There’s not a lot I can do, I’m afraid.”

Of the following stream of insults from Jack Dry, “clown” was the least offensive.

Then Russell delivered his killing blow. “Well, if you really want to help, why not step up and become a union rep?”

That silenced Jack and the rest too. Nobody wanted to put themselves in the firing line. 

After a lot of mumbling and staring at feet from the crowd, Malcolm stepped forward. “If no one else is willing, then I’ll do it.” 

He wasn’t sure what he had let himself in for, but if it saved him a grand then he would become a union rep.