Do you know who I am?

Anyone who lives in or spends anytime in Greece and understands the language will have seen at one time or another, possibly often, an irate person demanding of one or many around him 'Do you know who I am?'; this is not an existential question, born from uncertainty and angst, but a ludicrous assertion of perceived status.

My first response to the question would be 'and who might yourself be, then?', closely followed by 'well if you don't know, I'm not sure I could shed light on the matter...'; I have now reached my final offering, along the lines of 'if you need to ask, mate, you are of no account, no account at all'.

Though the ancient Greeks invented the concept of Aristocracy (or perhaps just gave an existing practice a name, write in dear reader and tell me if you have facts on this to impart), the rule of the best, the excellent - not, it should be noted, creating a hereditary privilege based on perceived 'breeding', as degraded in the West later - modern Greece has singularly failed to live up to it. Of course modern Greece is a young country not even two hundred years old, so the social structure is not sufficiently developed compared to other, older European nations; the area's four hundred years under the yoke of the Ottoman Empire imposed its preferred structure anyway, limiting local individuality. Furthermore, successive governments have sought to undermine any sort of 'Establishment' (and established values) for political gain, thus undermining the stability of any social structure that does not help them achieve and maintain their goals.

Obviously the 'Do you know who I am?' demand is not a phenomenon restricted to Greece, with many less-developed countries having similar versions. The reason why it is so surprising when encountered in Greece, especially in a big city like Athens, is that the country gives a particularly good impression of being civilised, westernised and modern, while at the same time maintaining habits encountered in its eastern neighbours.

Pompous, silly people do, clearly, exist everywhere irrespective of the level of civilisation around them, as the infamous orange person shows. They are usually the newly rich and privileged, demanding from those around them what they see as their due and behaving in a way that they think is how people of serious social standing should behave, unwittingly thus giving themselves away. In Greece, however, it goes way beyond that - almost everyone perceives his status as far more important than what is obvious to the naked eye. This is partly why few Greeks make good waiters, a job perceived as demeaning and often done grudgingly - I may be serving you now because I deign to do this job, but I am at least as good as you if not better. Indeed when the late Andreas Papandreou, socialist Prime Minister in the 1980s and 1990s, wanted to illustrate a level to which Greeks would not sink declared 'we will not become the waiters of Europe' and sabotaged investment in tourism to avoid it. This was a strategic mistake that the country is paying for still, but that is a story for another day.

Back to our little man - and it is, sadly, mainly men who adopt this pose - who is offended by something or someone, feels belittled, needs to impose his perceived status, to show everyone that he is worthy of respect, but no-one pays him the attention he feels he deserves. A deep breath taken, he stretches to his full height and intones: 'do you know who I am?'

He feels better, strong; he's shown the world that he is someone. Alas he doesn't realise that he has just pigeon-holed himself, and not in the way he thinks he has.

Ship of Fools

Not that long ago I wrote about the Greek government, its handling of the economy  and its efforts to create growth again after at least a decade (more or less, depending on the numbers you choose to trust) in the doldrums. I described them, including everyone from the Prime Minister Mr. Tsipras down, quite politely I thought, as clueless. This was for the following simple reasons:

1. The financial meltdown has been borne largely by the private sector, with countless businesses being forced to close and their proprietors, usually through little fault of their own, bearing the cost - with homes being lost, mountains of debt assumed to cover not only the cost of closing down but ever-increasing taxation of one form or another, reputations and lives left in tatters.
2. Through the inept handling of the crisis, successive governments (yes, previous governments bear some of the blame but this one has proven to be a master of idiocy and ineptitude, partly because of dogmatic political affiliations) took the easy, somewhat medieval in approach, route of taxing private enterprise heavily to shore up the failing treasury, leaving both companies and most beleaguered owners perilously short of liquidity. An informed schoolkid could tell you, Mr. Tsakalotos, why this is unsustainable.
3. Growth that is real, sustainable and better than short-term can only come from the private sector, something which has been proven time and again throughout the world. This does not mean an unregulated free-for-all 'market', but it does mean that a robust, creative, FUNCTIONING private sector is needed.
4. An over-regulated, expensive to run private sector is not made more efficient and productive by more regulation, higher costs, new encumbrances. The KISS principle applies to this as to most everything in life - keep it simple, stupid! - but that, I fear, would tread on toes that are 'sacred' in one way or another.

So when ministers come out and announce their blueprint for growth which includes higher basic wages, new collective bargaining agreements and various other measures to boost employees welfare they are putting, quite literally, the cart before the horse. These things can and should, perhaps, happen (I believe the Greek labour market is already over-regulated, badly, with selective enforcement having different aims for those involved) when an economy is buzzing along happily and producing results. They should never, NEVER be imposed on an economy trying to recover from a long crisis.

Then this Minister for Employment, Social Security and Social Cohesion (itself a wonderfully b/s title), a person with an apparently excellent law degree but minuscule work experience, holds a press conference announcing all these wonderful measures and claims they are going to benefit the majority of Greeks as higher basic wages will mean more money in the actual economy being spent, meaning happy faces all around as this new money trickles down in this spending frenzy. Where the money to pay for increased salaries/taxes etc. will come from in an economy starved of liquidity, she seems strangely unconcerned. Whilst I would respectfully accept that you do not get a doctorate in Law anywhere in the world by being an idiot, no worldly experience and rigid ideological allegiances can do it for you every time.

My criticism is not about politics, though, but about practicalities - I would have been prepared to laud and salute the SYRIZA-ANEL governments of Mr. Tsipras and his cohorts if they had produced any real results out on the street, any real opportunity for growth - despite the fact that I have never been a communist support in my life. Instead, this mob is trying hard to convince me that they are, despite any education they may possess (and some actually do), absolute fools.

For Greece's sake I would love to be proven wrong.

Ghosts, and other creatures in my life

Let me start by saying that I am indebted to Ian Rankin for, not only the immense pleasure his books have given me over the years, but his concept of ghosts surrounding his main character, John Rebus. As Rebus gets older his private moments are more and more dominated by the 'presence' of people who have been part of his life but are alive no more, to the point where he finds it difficult to get a peaceful night's sleep in his bed but sleeps in an armchair instead. While not quite at this Rebus stage yet, I find that my life is very much populated by my ghosts, all the wonderful people who were important to me in one way or another but are no longer physically present.

I dare say that Rankin's concept is not necessarily original - I would think that many others have expounded on this over the years in one form or another and I have missed it - but it doesn't matter to me one way or the other, as his writing has made it accessible to me. Philosophers, no doubt, have grappled with similar concepts, as have the believers of the supernatural; alas I am not among them. The original source doesn't worry me, the concept itself, though, I find absorbing.

Like the fictitious Rebus I am no longer young and have lived an active life. Many, many people have played important roles, some unknowingly, but have now gone forever, existing in my mind as my ghosts. To some I owe debts of gratitude, to others apologies, but to all I am forever indebted for enriching my life, which is why they are often on my mind. Unlike Rebus I have little guilt, hardly life and death stuff, so there is little torment other than light self-flagellation, wishing I had been able to have been a better friend/son/lover, always there in the right way when needed.

As life takes its natural toll my ghostly community increases by the day and not just by people of previous generations - only a couple of weeks ago I lost two friends suddenly and in rapid succession, leaving me shocked and upset, a tad lonelier. One was a classmate from school, a successful actor, fit and healthy, the other an ex-supplier slightly younger than me; both died suddenly.

Lots of my favourite authors have also died, taking with them their creations. These creations had become part of my life, 'friends' to me in a strange but real sort of way, as I patiently waited for our next meeting; now with many of them that can only take place in my head (or in the future...???), as they have accompanied their creator down to Hades.

My ghosts are with me as I write this, with me as I go to bed, more lively at night but never absent during the day. My life, my ghosts.

Making mistakes

The saying goes that 'the only person not to make a mistake is the one that never does anything' and I must admit that I fully agree with it. If this is an example of popular wisdom then I appear to be in support of it, something that in general I'm not famous for. Over the years I have found most of the various sayings attributed to popular wisdom to be either fatuous or downright ridiculous - please don't write in, dear reader, with what you consider sparklingly clear and true examples - and so have not been a fan. Forget that.

There are no infallible people in this world, none, however wise they may happen to be. Nobody knows what the right thing to do is all the time and about everything, much as we like to think otherwise. The only all-knowing - and, consequently, all-powerful - people exist in popular fiction, whether in novels or films; it is always compelling stuff, watching these people control the world around us. Alas it is also untrue and fairly easy to debunk with a bit of research.

Mistakes will be made, but they are acceptable provided our decision-making is based on rational thought, even a deep instinct, and is not purely a matter of whimsy. We must seek to avoid mistakes, yes, but not be afraid of them - should be treating them as learning experiences. We must also not be casual about accepting them constantly because 'we're human, and we all make mistakes'; one doesn't need super intelligence to see that this is a cop out. Be rigorous in trying to avoid them, be equally rigorous in analysing and trying to learn from them.

The people who claim - on whatever stage, public and grand or humble and private - that they never make mistakes are always, ALWAYS being dishonest with others and, probably, with themselves as well. Their usual tactic in order to promote this image is to trumpet every correct action and be deathly quiet about the failures, thus building the desired reputation in the eyes of others. This image and accompanying reputation does not bear close scrutiny, as it is based on perception that is itself created by falsehoods.

Luck is also a factor in life, whether we like it or not, and whilst we should not be reliant on it for our success it may always play a part in it or, indeed, our failure. Timing, the single most important determining factor in the success of everything, is more often than not down to luck, even when we insist on believing otherwise; this does not mean that we should not consider options carefully, giving them serious thought, before deciding to do something.

Looking back on life - mine and others - I can see many mistakes, including some that (with hindsight at least) could have been avoided. Even when I feel I would do things differently given the chance, knowing what I do now, I would still run the risk of making perhaps other mistakes and, therefore, I could still be creative and adventurous, if well researched, in my approach. Certainty when regarding future events is a myth, so we shouldn't allow ourselves to be seduced by its siren calls; the unexpected could always be around the corner. Sometimes we will be able to cope with it when it occurs, others perhaps not, and that is just the way life is.

We need to do our best, thinking things through and trying our hardest, but mistakes will still be made and, unless they involve wanton carelessness, there should be no shame attached. We then have to face and correct them, accept and walk away from them or, hopefully rarely, tell ourselves they haven't happened and ignore them, which is surely less than fruitful. Our mistakes are part of us, to be acknowledged, considered, even cherished. By pretending they do not exist we are poorer.