The Day I Finished My Keele Economics Project And Went To A Food Co-Op Meeting With Ashley In the Evening, 11 April 1984

Co-operative Food Glorious Co-operative Food

Monday, 11 April 1984 – Finished project. Went library etc. Went to Newcastle with Ashley to food co-op thing – got back late.

My Keele economics project was a bit of a magnum opus. I set out to try to model the pharmaceutical industry, only to learn very rapidly that the apparent cost drivers (i.e. those that were visible in the public domain) had little to do with the actual costs and where actual economic activity took place – rather they were the product of tax planning devices to ensure that profits were maximised in nations with low rates of corporate taxation. Who knew?

I get heartburn just from the thought of writing up that darned project

I remember sheepishly asking Joe Nellis (latterly Professor Joe Nellis at Cranfield) early in the process whether I had screwed up by making a naïve choice of question? Joe simply advised me to “tell it how it is” and the dissertation can still do very well. Which it did.

“Went library” will have been part of the convoluted process in those days of ensuring that a project report was typed up and copied appropriately. I think I typed my own but had to pay for copies in the library.

I’ll scan the document and place it in the public domain at some point. If any reader is desperate to see it, pip me an e-mail message requesting that I upload it – that will induce me to do it sooner rather than later.

Ashley Fletcher

The evening at the food co-operative with Ashley was an unforgettable experience.

The meeting was in a pub’s snug or upstairs room, I forget which, much like Careless Talk meetings. Indeed many of the participants were from that group and a lot were Keele students, researchers and/or graduates. Bob and Sally were there, although this was not “Bob and Sally’s thing”, not that they considered Careless Talk to be “Bob & Sally’s thing” either. Also , I think, Simon and Theo. In addition, a fairly motley collection of local folk in search of cheap bulk food.

The group had been going for a while, although neither Ashley nor I had visited it before. I am pretty sure this was the one and only visit for both of us.

The group and had named itself “Esamrek”, which was a play on the name of the local wholefood store, Kermase, the idea being that the co-operative would reverse the worst excesses of Kermase (i.e. its desire to make profit from selling food).

I was not at one with this economic position, even back then. I was keen to shine a light on excess profits made by Big Pharma, not least by their trick of playing the global taxation game, but I was not against the idea of a retailer making a turn of profit by retailing food.

The first item for debate at the Esamrek meeting was the name of the group itself, which several members found cumbersome and/or tiresome. The debate on the name was quite lively. I recall Bob (even though it was not Bob and Sally’s thing) trying to steer the discussion towards “groundswells” and “the sense of the meeting” a few times, just as he would at a Careless Talk meeting.

One member, who I can only describe as a left-over hippy type by look and sound, at one point said:

…we should name the group Pan Foods, because Pan is the god of the sun and of the earth.

“Siri…Alexa…am I the god of the sun and of the earth?”

This statement somewhat silenced the group. I remember thinking that Pan was not exactly the god of those things, but, unsure what he was the god of, and in any case unsure whether that point was relevant to the debate, I decided (wisely I think) not to chime in on this point.

I remember a conversation with Ashley afterwards about this type of factual nit-picking, in which Ashley posited a business idea: a telephone helpline (premium rate naturally), staffed by brainy youngsters armed with encyclopaedias, to which this type of debate might be put and resolved. Ashley’s considered view was that pub debates up and down the country would very naturally resort to such a service and that the business could rake it in. That idea might have done rather well, especially in the early days of the mobile phone, only to do very badly very rapidly once Alta Vista and Google emerged.

Most amusing to me, though, were the debates about what to order and in what quantities. The group was too loosey-goosey libertarian to take firm orders in advance or anything like that, so they were planning based on the sense of the meeting and people’s vague notion of how much of such-and-such a product they might want at some point in the not-too-distant future.

Ashley threw a cat amongst the pigeons a few times by “naively” questioning the exact variant chosen for a particular product. For example, there was a presumption that the order would be for wholegrain rice. Ashley chimed in…

…I don’t really like wholegrain rice so I wouldn’t go for that. I might be interested in white rice…

…at which point several people then admitted that they quite like white rice and hadn’t eaten any of it for a while…not since they started buying infeasibly large quantities of wholegrain rice via the co-operative…

…while others were persistent in their desire for the wholegrain.

A similar debate ensued around brown pasta and so on the meeting went.

My recollection is that the group ended up in a state of some confusion, given that the only way the co-operative could achieve ultra low prices was through buying very large quantities of a very small range of products.

The notion of a supermarket with buying power and the ability to offer a wide range of products all at once, to me, seemed a rational solution to this micro-economic problem. There might have been a whole second economics dissertation in that.

I do recall laughing with Ashley about that meeting afterwards. Rather than a dissertation, Ashley thought there might be a Mike Leigh style play in the story of that evening.

Have you written that play yet, Ashley?

“Whistle for it, mate”.

How Not To Revise For Your Finals At Keele, Part One: The Start Of The Easter Holidays, Early April 1984

The meaning of this image for this story will become apparent if you read on!

Forty years after the event, I can still give myself the collywobbles by reading my diary entries for the weeks approaching my finals at Keele. Economics and Law, just in case you were wondering.

I never have been much use at revising for exams. These were important exams to say the least. I sense that I distinguished myself for these big ones by being proportionately dreadful at knuckling down to revision.

I was, at least, quite brutally honest in my diary as to what I was – and wasn’t – doing around that time.

This multi-part article on how not to revise for your finals might serve as an object lesson to students everywhere.

Let’s start with a transcription from my diary for the first 10 days of April 1984:

Sunday 1 April 1984 – Got up late! Did little all day – Viv [Robinson] came round in afternoon – had nice meal and early night.

Monday 2 April 1984 – Got up quite late – Ashley [Fletcher] came round. Went into town – shopped and went to Ashley’s – Bobbie [Scully] left – easyish evening – went Union with Mel [Melissa Oliveck] for last orders – early night.

Tuesday, 3 April 1984 – Tried to do some work today – not too successfully. Went to Union in the evening with Mel.

Wednesday, 4 April 1984 – Late start – intermittent work – went to union with Malcolm [Cormelius] in the evening.

Thursday, 5 April 1984 – Did some work today – intermittently -big demo against Police Bill [which became the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984]. Went to KRA in evening with Malcolm.

Friday, 6 April 1984 – worked quite hard today – shopped etc – went to Union in eve – had a bop!

Saturday, 7 April 1984 – busyish day. Worked quite hard on project today. Went to union in eve – disco etc.

Sunday, 8 April 1984 – Worked on project today after late start. Visited Q92 [my Malay friends] etc. Went to Union for last orders.

Monday, 9 April 1984 = Shopped and worked today. Went to KRA with Malc, Farm [Chris Spencer] and Mel – nice evening.

Tuesday, 10 April 1984 – Worked hard on project all day. Went to Careless Talk meeting in evening, then union, then K41 do.

Some points to note here. Firstly, there are some references to working hard, but they are unquestionably linked to finishing my project – i.e. my Economics dissertation on the Economics of the Pharmaceutical Industry. I am proud of that piece of work, which achieved a first class mark, but in truth it should have been finished before revision time came around in April 1984.

My flat, Barnes L54, had just two of us regular residents: me and Chris “Farmer” Spencer. Pete Wild’s girlfriend, Melissa Oliveck, was there, at least for that first chunk of the vacation, while Malcolm Cornelius was occupying Alan “Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman’s room.

One aspect, unmentioned in the diary but which I remember very clearly, was a short-lived tradition of making Irish coffee at the end of the evening on return from the Union. I was reminded of this a couple of weeks ago (March 2024) when my wife, Janie, ordered an Irish coffee after our meal in Petworth (see headline image and below).

“You were a role model…on how NOT to revise…”

I recalled that we were trying to get work done for our finals, so were not spending much time in the bar. Instead, Malcolm and I tried many different ways to prepare the Irish coffee in the flat – all in the interests of science of course.

I remarked to the maître d’ in Petworth that Malcolm and I had concluded that the essential component to make the cream float nicely was the sugar content within the coffee. The maître d’ explained that, to get a full-on Irish coffee to look the way the coffee looks in our photos, you also need to bring each ingredient to the right temperature before combining and use cream with the right fat content.

Back to the drawing board, Malc.

The woeful tale of my attempts to revise for finals will continue soon, after a short interlude next time, to describe a visit that Ashley Fletcher and I made to a Keeley food collective group in Newcastle.

Tarot Reading at Keele, c1982 to 1984, 8 April 1984

In October 2017 (just before I wrote this piece), Janie went to have a tarot reading. This reminded me that I used to read tarot cards for people at Keele, quite regularly.

I cannot remember who gave me my deck back in the student days, but possibly it was Liza O’Connor, although I have sneaking suspicion I had the deck before I met her. Really I’m not sure.

My tarot deck

I never mastered the full deck, but I did familiarise myself with the major cards and their meanings both ways up. Indeed, if you look at my deck, you can see some signs of wear about the 22 major cards (and the instruction booklet) but not much of that about the 56 minor cards. I also familiarised myself with one or two questioning patterns.

Those who know me to be sceptical about all matters non-scientific might find it a little odd that I read the tarot at all. Let me try to explain.

People would come to me with a question or problem in mind. I wouldn’t ask them what the question/problem was; I even recommended that they keep it to themselves. I wouldn’t even try to use the cards to ascertain what the questioner’s question/problem was. I would simply get the questioner to shuffle and chose cards for each position, then I would explain what each card meant in the position it landed on the table.

My sceptical take on it was simply this. If people were struggling with a question or problem, hearing my generic explanation of what the tarot cards mean in the respective positions enabled the questioner to interpret the cards as they saw fit.

That interpretation was the questioners’ brains coming to terms with their own issues and in a sense resolving or deciding the matters through their own interpretation of what the tarot reading was indicating. I was merely explaining what tarot cards in various positions might mean.

In short, people were making their own decisions or solving their own problems through the mechanism of the tarot cards helping them to think about their choices or issues differently.

Anyway, loads of people liked what I did with tarot. There weren’t quite queues out of the flat and into the corridor. I wasn’t earning huge fortunes (or indeed any money) from tarot. But I did get bought plenty of drinks and was cooked plenty of good meals in return for my tarot readings.

One particularly good source of “business” was the Malay community in the Barnes flats.  I had a Malay flatmate in the form of Ahmed Mohd Isa in Barnes M65 for two terms in the first half of 1982. He was supposed to be my continuing flatmate when we were relocated to Barnes L54 (due to M Block’s demolition) but Ahmed’s academic career didn’t survive his Part One finals. I did share L54 with Hamzah Shawal, (from Brunei) who was scheduled to join us for the 1982/83 academic year and who, like Ahmed, was good friends with the main Malay pack who lived in Barnes Q92 and with whom I had already become friendly during Ahmed’s time.

Although quite strict Muslims, those Barnes Q92 guys were interested in mysticism (Malay style Islam has/had some interesting mystical legends which the guys used to share with me) and liked my tarot readings. Not least, I think, because I specifically rejected any religious, quasi-religious or pagan interpretation on it which might otherwise have made tarot seem haram to them.

More importantly, in the matter of fair exchange between honourable students, those Malay guys could really cook. I absolutely loved their Malay-style curries, often prepared with flavoursome mutton or goat from one of the Halal butchers in Stoke, where a substantial Muslim community had started to take form by the early 1980s. I had acquired a taste for Malaysian food as early as 1978 when I worked with several Malaysian folks at Newman Harris in the school holidays – another story for another Ogblog piece.

The matter of my tarot readings was so much part of what I did in those days, it doesn’t seem to get mentioned in the diaries at all – or if it does I couldn’t find a reference easily. It would have been part of, “I visited so-and-so” or “so-and-so visited us”, in much the same way as the diary doesn’t mention what we ate, what we drank or what we talked about either.

I have picked out two diary examples which I think almost certainly will have involved tarot readings:

15 April 1983…played tennis with Hamzah, Yazzid & Bai in afternoon – stayed in eve…

I’ll cover the tennis aspect of this April 1983 period in a separate piece, as reading that page has brought back some long forgotten aspects of my rehabilitation from glandular fever in part through playing tennis.

But almost without question those guys will have hung around after tennis, Hamzah would have cooked one of his curries (which also weren’t bad, but not quite up to the Q92 cookery standard) and I’d have done some tarot readings.

8 April 1984 – worked on project today after late start. Visited Q92 etc. Went to Union for last orders.

The “project” will have been my economics dissertation on the pharmaceutical industry. More peripheral stories around that project will follow elsewhere.

“Q92 etc.” will undoubtedly have been one of those excellent meals and me reading the tarot.

“Union for last orders” will undoubtedly have meant me parting company with Yazzid, Bai and the others; those Q92 guys didn’t grace the union at night.

It is amazing what a simple conversation with Janie about tarot, 30+ years later, can trigger off in the memory.

Now Janie is nagging me to mug up on my tarot and give her a reading. I feel a sense of great trepidation about that.

But, oh boy, Janie can cook too…and once she’s read this piece…I suspect that my grub rations will be at risk unless I do as she asks.

Meanwhile, if anyone out there remembers how I got started with tarot or remembers being on the other side of one of my readings, I’d love to hear your recollections.

 Janie’s not at all sure about the look of that Fool card