a day ago
Take it from one of the lads: this act is a whinger's charter
Growing up with three brothers, I've always liked being one of the lads: on newsdesks, on tallships, heaving cases of mixers across O'Keefe's yard to restock my bar. Rather be lumped in with 'lads' than called a 'girl' or patronised as a 'little lady'. 'Lass' is OK from a northerner, 'Ma'am' acceptable from Americans, 'Madam' a bit Knightsbridge.
But being accepted as one of the lads is what we Pankhursts fought for: just hire us, pay us, refrain from making lame suggestive remarks, and we'll reliably do a good lad's work. Except, obviously, while we're physically engaged in churning out the next generation.
So I groan at the employment tribunal judge who prissily ruled the L-word as a 'non-complimentary use of gender-specific language', even though it wasn't the successful bit of the complaint. As the UK hurtles ever further into debt and idle self-pity, its good intentions pave the way to social and employment hell.
The 2010 Equality Act listing protected characteristics has become a whinger's charter: a fiscal drag on employers. And, worse, a very good reason for them to avoid hiring anyone lumbered with anything looking like a 'characteristic' — femaleness, race, mild disability, baldness, gayness, trans, general emotional fragility — which they might weaponise if ever you rashly point out their deficiencies.
Of course real bullies need dealing with. And in a sane country it should be possible for any employee to say 'look, I hate that word, that joke, it makes me feel small', and get back to work without resentment. I suspect most of us have done just that. But the grievance culture ballooned into the hideous fashionability of self-righteous victimhood. Who'd be an employer? I dutifully did the Times harassment quiz, based on recent cases, and am relieved not to live in fear of sending an unwanted birthday card (£25k), moving someone's desk (constructive dismissal), disapproving of trainers in the office (£30k), or singing a wrong song (£80k).
Before 2010 you had to base your complaint specifically on race, sex, or disability law. The 2010 Act larded on nuances and associations, presumptions about feelings, vague victimhoods. As a human rights barrister, Anna Loutfi, observed, the system has become increasingly divorced from workplace reality.
The discontented, sometimes hoping more for a payout than a return to work, can massage the facts of any tiff to fit a 'protected' narrative. Claims, even if lost, waste years of legal and business time which Britain could have spent prospering. Some are encouraged by deliberate political activism, encouraging every imaginary slight. It drags us down. Revise, repeal, get real.
