Open Writing

Bureaucracy, red tape, call it what you will, to me it's the 'thing that nightmares are made of' and I avoid situations where there's a danger I may be caught up in it like the plague. Sometimes however, despite ducking and weaving like Amhir Khan, I'm forced to go a round or two with some bureaucratic representative.

This often results in a verbal slugging match as I try and cut through miles of 'red tape' and get to the heart of a problem, whilst my opponent - usually at a safe distance on the other end of a phone line in a call centre - hides behind a 'script' or falls back on that old chestnut 'a computer problem.'

My latest tangle with bureaucracy was when I stepped into the ring once more to go another round with the Pensions Department in an attempt to transfer the method in which an elderly relative receives her pension payments. As many of you will know, pension books, which have worked perfectly efficiently and simply for many years, are being replaced and pensions paid through banks or post office card accounts.

Sounds perfectly straightforward? Then think again. The whole process has been a nightmare for my relative, who is in her 80s and becoming rather forgetful and confused. It's also been a nightmare for me, as I offered to sort it out on her behalf.

Should be quite simple I thought, probably involves filling in a couple of forms or making a couple of phone calls. How wrong can you be? Today, some six or seven letters, four or five phone calls and several trips to the Post Office later, we still don't have a card account that's up and running.

First of all there's the phone calls. You are given false hope when you get through to a freephone number after only a couple of rings - only to be told that 'your call may be recorded for training purposes' and then put into a call queuing system

You are then subjected to one of the most frustrating forms of modern torture yet to be invented - piped musak and an irritating message telling you what you already know; 'all our phone line operators are busy at present, please hold and we will put you through as soon as possible.'

The first time I finally got through to a real life human voice I naively believed that all my troubles were over. After explaining I was ringing on behalf of someone else I was stopped short and asked to put the 'other person' on the line. Rather difficult when that other person is several miles away in their own home. Schedule another phone call etc etc.

When I'd calmed down from my first attack of phone rage, I reflected that in the interests of fraud prevention they did have to confirm you are acting with another person's permission. Surely detailed information of what facts and people you need to have to hand when you phone this type of bureaucratic service could be included in an initial letter and would save a great deal of everyone's precious time?

Another call, further down the line, saw me finally getting through to an operator after six attempts - only to be asked if I would mind 'calling again as I'm having computer problems'. Cue second attack of phone rage in which I said as it happened I would mind calling again and perhaps she'd like to put me through directly to someone else.

This reply of mine was obviously 'off script' and for the rest of our brief call she was offhand and unhelpful to say the least, so much so that I insisted on talking to her supervisor.

When I finally got through, after more musak and irritating messages, I did at least get a well-trained supervisor with a pleasant voice who was apologetic and helpful and even thanked me for
my comments - to the effect that there would be thousands of pensioners incapable of coping with this transfer system alone and what would happen to them?

After my latest tangles with red tape, I can't help wondering what will happen if plans go ahead for out-of-hours calls to GPs to be answered in many areas by call centre staff with no medical training?

That's it for this week as I have to go and lie down for a while. The very thought of coping with the whole call centre fiasco in the middle of the night when I'm tired, anxious and ill is enough to make me feel - you guessed, tired, anxious and ill!