Tag: Family

Data Mining: Our Past Shaping The Industry Of The Future

On By pauljbenthamIn Something to Say...Leave a comment

I only have a few memories of my great-grandfather, Horace Barker.  He was one of only three people I met whom I know to have been born in the 19th Century and he died a few weeks before my 5th birthday so we didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other.  

There are only a few facts about him I can recall: he was a kindly old man in his late seventies, married to my great-grandmother, Hilda. They lived in a bungalow with an immaculate garden and a greenhouse full of the sweetest tomatoes you’ve ever smelled.  Unfortunately, my own insight ends there and I have to rely on other data sources to complete my picture of him.

If you know where to look, you can find out more about him.  Various census sheets and official documents confirm that Horace was born in Pemberton, Wigan on 29th October 1897, he was a coal-miner, man and boy. He married Hilda in 1921 and together, they had a daughter, Marjorie, on 21st March 1924. He went to seek his fortune in Canada for a few months in 1929 but while he was there, Wall Street crashed – which may have influenced his decision to return home. At the outbreak of war in September 1939, Horace was recorded in the National Register as living at ‘Marus Bridge Shop’ and working as a “Colliery…Chargehand” (under-supervisor) and also a first-aider and an Air Raid Patrol warden. His wife Hilda was listed as a ‘Grocer and Confectioner’.

He was hardened by his experiences at the unforgiving coalface and later, as Colliery Manager, he bore the responsibility of the lives of the men who worked under him.  The daily obligation to make life-or-death decisions undoubtedly shaped his outlook – and it’s no surprise to reflect that coal-mining was a formative part of some of the most revered working-class heroes of his generation; men like Matt Busby and Bill Shankly.

It’s not a fatuous comparison. Pop’ (as he was known in later life) once told his grandson – my Dad – during a callow attempt to make ambitious structural changes to a farm building “tha’ll ne’er do it” [You’ll never do it], knowing well that saying so would provide the extra determination to succeed.  It worked. Like Shankly and Busby, he was what footballers would call a ‘psychologist’: adept at understanding and motivating others with a mixture of high standards and a gruff, uncompromising demeanour. By all accounts, he was a formidable character – and it’s easy to see why he needed to be.  

Today, more than half a lifetime after his death, the world is a vastly different place.  Fossil fuels – and their effects – are (literally) unsustainable and we’ve made great strides to power out future by harnessing the natural resources around us.  That which we used to have to mine out of the ground to add value to our lives is necessarily diminishing in long-term value.  And yet, over the same five decades, humanity has also created something in such a vast quantity that it now forms the most valuable mined resource than anything based in carbon.

Since 2017, it’s become widely accepted that data has become the world’s most valuable commodity, overtaking that long-standing former favourite, oil.  The world’s most valuable companies now trade in quadrillions of bits, rather than billions of barrels.  Carbon is just so finite, so boringly elusive, so…analogue.  Data is different: it’s so dynamic, so ubiquitous, so…sustainable. And, just as with coal, the very juiciest bits of all this data, that inform decisions which can make or break fortunes, are there to be mined from the vastly more voluminous, less valuable stuff, all around it.

To do that, you need to be able to find relevant data, verify its accuracy and understand its meaning. For this you must also have a clear understanding of the problem that the data is being used to solve. You must also be aware of the statistical pitfalls of sticking different data together and making logical conclusions that clearly show that the correlations in the data unambiguously answer the questions being posed. To those who are not familiar with it, data mining may seem like a very indistinct process, maybe even a pseudoscience. But it’s simply a case of trying to create a ‘picture’ of knowledge about a group or an individual, based on available facts, cross-tabulated with other known information, to build a profile. If that still sounds unhelpfully abstract, then re-read the first five paragraphs above and you’ll see that’s exactly what I was doing there; turning documented fact into reasoned propensity.

Obviously, data-mining is not remotely dangerous; the work is not back-breaking work and there’s little chance of contracting long-term health conditions due to the working environment but it’s essentially the same principle – although I’m not sure that miners of old would see it that way. In ‘The Road To Wigan Pier’, George Orwell describes at length the awesome physicality demanded of coal miners, even comparing them to Olympic athletes. Pop once said of his own brother-in-law (whom he considered to be a less capable individual) “I’d durst let him’t strike at mi arse wi’ a pick”.  If you cut through the old Lancashire dialect and the, er, slightly industrial language, it was a scathing put-down:  ‘I’d dare to him to swing a pick-axe at my backside’ – believing him be too weak to do any harm.  

Horace “Pop” Barker’s miner’s lamp. Photo: Paul Bentham

We still have his miner’s lamp, although the reason for its presentation (long-service, retirement or just his actual working lamp, polished up) is now lost in the mists of time.  There’s also a brilliantly evocative picture of him, arms folded, his coal-blackened face staring defiantly into the camera, taken at the pit-head – I believe at Chisnall Hall Colliery near Coppull.  He died in 1978, before the final decline of the industry that sustained his whole life.  

I often wonder what he would have made of the miners’ strike of the 1980s, of Arthur Scargill’s leadership of the National Union of Mineworkers, of Health & Safety law, of the demise of ‘Old King Coal’ and even of the shift to renewable energy. 

More than anything, I’d love to explain to him the parallels between his industry and mine: the intricacies of data, profiling and algorithms. With the arrogance of (relative) youth, I might expect the ‘wonders’ of the digital age to blow his Victorian mind. I’d tell him how confidently I could pinpoint the addresses of all the greenhouse-owning pensioners in Standish, based on a few data sources and the internet. I’d like to think he’d tell me I’d “ne’er do it”.

But then I shouldn’t be surprised if it left him largely unimpressed – a lot of statistical inference could easily be termed ‘common sense’. If you’ve had any experience of retail, as he did, you soon develop a sense of what ‘type’ each customer is, based on their buying history and their responses to different stimuli. Grocers in 1939 didn’t need a suite of linked tables to understand which customers would be best suited to which products; their database was in their heads. Computers have merely added the capability to make the same predictions on a far greater scale and with ever-increasing complexity.

Nor would he necessarily be a stranger to the more contemporary concerns of wholesale data collation. As a coal miner in Wigan in the 1930s, he is likely to have been well aware of the famous Orwell book about his hometown. If he were to have discussed Orwell’s most famous novel, ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’, just over a decade later, he would have become well-acquainted with that age’s most prescient description of data use and misuse – and a delicious historical irony would have followed. I remember the death of the aforementioned ‘pick axe’ brother-in-law in December 1983. At his memorial service, in the days after Christmas, the sermon made reference to the incoming new year (1984) and the parallels in the book of the same name that we should consider. Two or three weeks before Apple Computers famously did it, a vicar in Wigan was riffing on the warnings of the coming year.

There’ll always be a limit to what I can know about Horace Barker, and what I can reliably surmise, There are many closed-off avenues that, tantalisingly, could be re-opened with the provision of just a little more data. That’s the frustration of genealogy – the suspicion that one small discovery may set off a chain reaction of greater understanding. Exactly the same can be said of data mining – which makes the quest for the knowledge it can provide all the more enticing.

Horace ‘Pop’ Barker at the pit-head

Weekly Pic | 13th Feb | That Time I Became An Uncle

On By pauljbenthamIn Photo of the Week

15 years ago | The Metropole Hotel, NEC, Birmingham | 17th February 2008

Fifteen years ago this week, I found myself at an awards ceremony in Birmingham – as one does – and couldn’t wait to get away and drive home.  I’d just heard that I’d officially become an uncle for the first time…

Max Bentham was born in Wigan Infirmary on 17th February 2008.  By then we already had our own three year-old so the novelty was not of there being another generation but the realisation that I wouldn’t just be a parent but would also get to inherit all the (often cooler) privileges of being slightly removed from parental responsibility.  I was fortunate enough to have the same realisation when Max’s sister, Abi, was born the following year.

I should also give a mention to the ‘unofficial uncle’ status I hold amongst the children of close friends – and to all those ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ who also enjoy that status.  Peter Kay once said “He’s not my real uncle – my dad borrowed a belt sander off him once” but this (is it predominantly a Northern thing?) practice of imbuing semi-familial status is a special honour that’s far more profound than merely a work-around to stop kids calling adults by their first names.

It’s been fantastic to watch Max grow and develop over the last fifteen years and it’ll be wonderful to see what mark he (and Abi) will make on the world.  In particular, it’s been lovely to help him develop his love of cinema, especially science fiction.  Countless Film Night’ appointments in recent years (usually featuring my own version of ‘KFC’) have seen us watch – and discuss – a wide range of films and themes.  He’s always amazed me with his perceptiveness and the maturity of his observations.

Eagle-eyed observers may have noticed that this week’s Weekly Pic is taken neither at Wigan Infirmary nor The Metropole Hotel.  Similarly, it seems not to include any day-old infants.  I have a picture of Max, aged a few hours old but, hey, he’s about to turn fifteen – do you think he wants that kind of thing plastered on the internet?  I’m not going to do that to him – that’s what parents are for!  

Instead, here’s a picture of the two of us last year at Villa del Balbionello on Lake Como, at exactly the spot where Anakin Skywalker married Padmé Amidala in ’Star Wars Ep. II: Attack of the Clones’.  If enabling his inner Star Wars nerd is the only way I’ve ever influenced him, I’d say that was an uncle’s job well done!

From White Hall to White House

On By pauljbenthamIn Something to Say...Leave a comment

A story of my great-great grandfather: a man from Standish who visited the residence of the President, dined at the US Capitol and didn’t quite become a wine mogul in California…

Lots of us have discovered the joys and frustrations of researching our family history online. I’ve created a Family Tree on Ancestry.com and posted before about some of the exploits of my ancestors that I’ve been able to uncover.

The process is very similar to physical archaeology or, I imagine, gold-mining. It involves long periods of frustration punctuated by short instances of blinding discovery, the thrill of which is enough to sustain the addiction to persevere through the next, inevitable long period of frustration.

This time, it was my cousin, Adam, who found the nugget of gold while out prospecting. He was following up on a totally different part of the family story when he came across this story in the 25th January 1913 edition of the ‘Wigan Observer’ – exactly 110 years old.

It appears our great-great grandfather, James Bentham, former cattle dealer and farmer had, in December 1912, been part of a delegation of wine investors to inspect a vineyard in Wahtoke, just outside Fresno, California. If you Google ‘Wahtoke’, you find the settlement is now abandoned but but was established enough to have a US Post Office between 1905 and 1916.

What’s most interesting about the letter is his description of arriving in Washington DC, en route, and managed to find themselves being received at the White House “where the President [William Howard Taft] and Cabinet were sitting in one portion of the building”. They subsequently visited other Governmental buildings, including the Capitol, where they witnessed an impeachment hearing and were then invited to dine.

The letter includes a number of interesting details of the trip from Liverpool to Wahtoke, via New York, Washington, New Orleans, El Paso and Los Angeles, including something of a fixation with the quality of paving. Remember also that they made that Liverpool to New York crossing, in “exceptionally rough” seas, only eight months after the loss of the Titanic.

Here is the letter, transcribed in full, by Adam and copied and pasted, by me:

From The Wigan Observer and District Advertiser, Saturday 25th January 1913.

A Wigan Gentleman in California

Mr Samuel Taylor, J.P. the Chairman of Directors of Anglo-California Vineyards Ltd. has received the following letter from Mr. James Bentham (of Wigan and Blackpool) who is now on a visit to California.

Alameda Vineyard,
Wahtoke, California
December 26th 1912

Dear Mr. Taylor

I left Liverpool on the 30th November with my friend, Mr. Crompton of Preston, for the purpose of personally inspecting this vineyard, which was recently acquired by friends, principally in Wigan, Southport and Blackpool districts, and floated as the Anglo-Californian Vineyards Ltd. about which I shall have more to say later on. 

The sea journey was exceptionally rough, even for this time of the year, as we had to face north-western gales and high seas for about seven days, and we landed in New York on the 9th day. We found this city with 16 degrees of frost, and were not long in making up our minds to go out west. Our impression of New York, with its badly paved streets and network of tram and railway lines, was not good enough to induce us to spend much time there. 

We, therefore, made our way in the afternoon to Washington. The whole of the land between these cities, so far as could be seen from the train, was nothing but swamp and barren land. We were delighted with Washington, the streets being very wide and well laid out. The public buildings are also of a very high order, and we were privileged to enter the ‘White House’ where the President and Cabinet were sitting in one portion of the building.

We visited the Treasury, Army and Navy, and other public buildings (inside) including the Capitol, where we had the pleasure of listening to a debate of the Senators (who were trying to unseat the member for Philadelphia for corruption at his election) after which we had the privilege of dining in the building.

In the evening we left for New Orleans, passing through Mobile, which is the great shipping port for timber in the Gulf of Mexico. On arrival at New Orleans we were introduced to several members of the Cotton Exchange, who were kind enough to make us members for 10 days, thus enabling us to be present at the sales when the important announcement of the total cotton crop was made. It is impossible to describe the excitement that took place for about half an hour. The city is wretchedly paved outside the principal streets, but the buildings are fine.

We left at midnight, the whole train passing over the Mississippi River by ferry in three sections, and in the morning we were in Texas, which grows more than one fourth of the cotton in America. We were two days and nights passing through this large state, which is called a ‘dry State’ which means that you cannot even get a bottle of lager to dinner. 

We picked up a lot of soldiers who were going out to quell the rebellion in Mexico, and put them off there at a place called El Paso. Finally, we reached Los Angeles, where we might have spent a day or two in a beautiful city, but we were anxious to get to our destination, and went on to Fresno, where we had to remain two days before coming here.

And now I must say something of Alameda. After a week’s stay and general inspection we have come to the conclusion that there is no better cultivated land or better kept vineyard in California; the houses and buildings are quite equal to the land.

I see from the papers (one of which I am sending you) that the value of land is going up greatly in this district.

I am, yours faithfully,

James Bentham.

I’ve learned that it’s dangerous to take anything like this at face value so there are some layers of verification to apply before we take for granted that this story is as it appears.

First, James and his wife Alice lived in Standish for many years, first on High Street, then at While Hall on Cross Street (approximately where Standish Library now stands) and then at Broomfield House on Bradley Lane, where both my Dad (Jim) and Adam’s mum (Anne) grew up. In the 1911 census, James and Alice are shown as living at ’42 Chesterfield Road, Blackpool’. The specific reference of “Mr. James Bentham (of Wigan and Blackpool)” leaves far less possibility that it applies to another James Bentham.

Having moved out of the family farm and (as we’d say today) ‘downsized’, it’s also more likely that he would have the capital to both invest and travel. I’ve often wondered why he and Alice moved to Blackpool. Alice died in December 1913, aged 66, so my theory always was that they moved to “take the [sea] air”, as was common for people living with poor health in those days. There’s no reference to Alice accompanying him on this journey. She may have been unwilling, unwell or simply uninvited.

What happened next? Was James one of the team of investors? What happened to the Alameda Vineyard? Aside from family rumours about of swindling, I can’t say if, or by how much, James was financially involved. Prohibition in 1919 would not have helped the business plan but the loss of the Post Office, during wartime, in 1916, suggests that the town’s fortunes may have receded even before that.

I can say my grandad was born, six weeks after the publication of this letter, on 6th April 1913, although I’m not sure if James, his grandfather, was back in England by then. Two days after Christmas that year, James’ wife, Alice, died and only six months after that, Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo, leading to the outbreak of the First World War, within weeks. As we now know all too well, James seemed to have been in the process of making plans in a world that was about to change out of all recognition. He lived on until the age of 81 and died in Blackpool in November 1930.

Anyway, here’s a picture of part of the article.

Photo of the Week | w/c 4th July 2022

On By pauljbenthamIn Photo of the Week

15 years ago: Chamberlains Farm, Shevington Moor, UK – 7th July 2007
Not the date of the photo but the closest estimate I have for the day Marley was born. He came to us the following Easter and this picture was taken later that summer, when he was just over a year old. Simultaneously the softest-natured dog I’ve ever encountered with the hardest skull you’ve ever been run into by. He was a wonderfully faithful companion and we were privileged to be able to give him three years of extra life when he was diagnosed with diabetes in 2016.

CSG: The First 85 Years

On By pauljbenthamIn Client: Cleansing Service Group

Posted on http://www.csg.co.uk/blog on November 6th 2019

https://www.csg.co.uk/blog/csg-the-first-85-years

2019 is an important year for CSG – it’s the 85th anniversary of our birth! ‘Hampshire Cleansing Service’ was founded in January 1934 by Edgar ‘Bunny’ Hart, the patriarchal figure of the family that still owns the company today. In that time, while so many aspects of daily life, business and waste processing have changed beyond recognition, the basic principles of the Cleansing – and the Service – remain very much in evidence today.

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CSG (Cleansing Service Group) celebrates its 85th birthday in 2019.  Photo: CSG

In 1933, Bunny Hart was a man in a hurry. Born in 1898, the seventh child of a successful butcher in London, he’d already crammed a lot into his first thirty-five years. He’d served in The Great War from 1917, become an expert skier in Kitzbühel, graduated as an engineer in 1923, taken a job in Chile in 1924 and, when the post became untenable, worked his passage as he toured around North and South America for the next two years. Upon his return to Britain, he started work for a tanker manufacturer in Southampton and began to court the woman he would eventually marry.

Despite the respectable job and steady relationship, his independent spirit hadn’t waned – he wanted to control his own destiny. The contacts he’d generated around Hampshire had convinced him that there was was a business opportunity for emptying the contents of the products he’d previously sold. Collecting sewage could never be described as attractive work but he would almost certainly have been encouraged by the old adage “where there’s muck there’s brass”. The growing levels of regulatory reform, even then, were an encouraging sign that unprofessional competition would be prohibited and it meant that, if Bunny could earn a carrier’s licence, he was sure he could build a healthy business.

Evidently, Bunny’s acumen and professionalism were impressive enough to convince the licensing body to award him a licence towards the end of 1933, sufficient for his needs. Now, all he needed was a vehicle. On 2nd December, he managed to procure a second-hand, solid-tyred 800-gallon Dennis tanker from Wokingham Rural District Council for the princely sum of £5. It’s difficult to imagine a real-terms value of such a figure without knowing the effects of over eight decades of inflation so you may be surprised to learn that £5 then was the equivalent of just £250 today. Compared to the 25 guineas (the equivalent of £1,330 today) to buy the latest ‘2 in 1’ gramophone and radio set from His Master’s Voice, Bunny’s £5 tanker still seems like a real bargain.

Of course, it wasn’t quite as cheap as it sounds – the ancient tanker needed to be updated and that’s where the real costs were. Renewing the old hose cost £47 7s (£2,400 in today’s money) and replacing the impractical solid tyres with a modern, practical pneumatic set cost a rather eye- watering £104 18s 4d (£5,300). Finally, sign-writing costs were £4 2s 6d (£209), a canny bit of marketing spend to publicly announce the new company everywhere the tanker went. The legend of the ‘£5 tanker’ sounds romantic but in reality, it represented what might today be considered an initial investment of over £8,000. Not a lot to start a business, perhaps, but quite a lot of money to stake on a firm belief of success.

On January 1st 1934, with his Dennis tanker upgraded and his ‘B’ licence effective, Bunny was ready to take on the waste disposal industry. It has to be said that 1934 wasn’t the most encouraging time to start a business. The Wall Street Crash was only a few years before and Britain had endured three years of economic decline as a result of the Great Depression. Then, just as the economy was recovering, tensions began to rise again in Europe as a resurgent Germany fell under the spell of Adolf Hitler, barely fifteen years after the Armistice was supposed to have put an end to the threat of more war. Perhaps this all seemed a world away from rural Hampshire as Bunny pursued his ambitions. Whether or not such concerns formed part of his thinking, they would not stop him trying.

He knew that, as they said about the Gold Rush, a century earlier, there was money in them there cesspits – but unlike 1840s California, the ‘gold’ was being constantly replenished. And so it proved. As the 1930s went on and the world moved inexorably towards another war, Hampshire Cleansing Service had indeed begun to grow as Bunny had intended. At the outbreak of war in 1939, six vehicles were operating around the county.

It couldn’t be denied that the war footing was good for business. With so many army bases, airfields and camps becoming established in the area, a huge increase in demand for sewage collection was, literally, a natural consequence. By the end of the war, the company employed a hundred people, the fleet had risen to thirty-five vehicles, and coverage had extended to three counties.

Unsurprisingly, the post-war years saw the military sewage collections dwindle but crucially, the company had become capable enough to replace that revenue with work from schools, factories and holiday camps. The fleet extended to a range of different vehicles, capable of extracting and dispensing the matter in different ways but the same basic principles of ‘Cleansing’ remained – and wherever people were gathered, the potential for another sewage collection existed. It may seem to have been a rather rudimentary business model but it’s easy to overlook another vital element – ‘Service’.

It’s unlikely to have been by accident that Bunny ensured that the word ‘Service’ remained in every iteration of his company’s name. His years as a salesman will have convinced him that sales do not just happen mechanically; they are agreed to by people, placing their faith in the quality of a job done well, assured that the experience will offer the reward of diligence and integrity beyond the basic process. Particularly in the case of domestic customers in remote areas, with their cesspits, the regular, reassuring sight of a friendly driver has defined their relationship with our company, retaining their trust and their custom over many years.

Throughout the 1950s and 60s, the company continued to seek out further opportunities to grow but by the beginning of the 1970s, Bunny had become gravely ill. When he died in 1971, he left a hugely successful legacy – a company that had begun to develop its capabilities and diversify into other areas of waste disposal. For some time, it had became necessary to add ever more specialist knowledge in order to operate in each specific sector of the wider waste industry.

In the years that followed, a wave of new regulations on employee health & safety, pollution, the deposit of poisonous waste and many more must have seemed frustratingly restrictive, compared to the ‘good old days’ of simply dispersing sewage into the field of a friendly farmer – but it was a benefit in disguise. Just as Bunny had benefitted from the the protection from unprofessional competitors that his licence gave him in 1934, the industry was challenging its most competent exponents to expand at the expense of those who could not adapt to the tighter regulations. Few companies were better placed to meet these challenges than the newly-assembled ‘Cleansing Services Group’.

Over the last five decades, the market has continued to sub-divide into more distinct specialisms, regulations have continued to strengthen, CSG has continued to add greater capability to the group and performance has continued to grow. Were he alive today, Bunny Hart may be amazed at the depth of knowledge now required in order to operate in so many sectors, the level of expertise in chemistry, logistics, environmental law, employee training – let alone the disciplines required to support it all, such as funding schemes, HR policy, social media management and many, many more. Given his fore-sightedness, perhaps he might not.

In 85 years, CSG has undergone a metamorphosis from a small, local provider of a specific service to a huge, diverse amalgamation of a wide variety of specialisms, all loosely connected with the world of consumption and waste. In a quirk of fate, one of the most innovative areas of our operations today is the same, necessary removal and treatment of sewage. Now, as it ever was, there’s still ‘brass’ wherever there’s ‘muck’.

In 1934, a very different Britain was still shaped by her Victorian heyday, in the twilight of Empire. The country mourned the passing of two of its greatest composers, Elgar and Holst, a 19 year-old called Stanley Matthews made his England debut and a writer from Australia called PL Travers published a book called ‘Mary Poppins’. It was, in so many ways, nothing like the Britain we inhabit today. And yet, the basic rules of business apply today, as much as they did then – the vital importance of doing a job well, to the absolute satisfaction of the customer.

May those fundamental guiding principles continue to guide CSG over the many decades to come! 

Obituary: Ben

On By pauljbenthamIn Something to Say...

Ben wasn’t even our dog but, for well over a decade, he was part of our family.  He was as much a participant in our daily life, our annual celebrations and our most treasured memories as all the dogs we could call our own.

It hardly seems like much time has passed but it’s now over twelve years since Martin confided to me that he’d chosen a border collie puppy with which to surprise Vicky on Christmas morning.  Upon collecting him a few days before the big day, we all colluded in the secrecy, stealing clandestine visits to see this new ball of black and white fluff.

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Ben the puppy, a few days before Christmas 2006

Martin and I grew up with border collies.  If you’ve ever owned one, you can’t fail to be impressed by their high intelligence and strong work ethic.  Within weeks, Ben had been trained to do a number of increasingly complex tricks, demonstrating his obedience and a clear willingness to please.

Border collies are perfectly suited to their traditional purpose of rounding up sheep on remote hillsides and directing them into a specific holding area.  Naturally fast and agile, they also have deep reserves of endurance, combined with a level of mental commitment to achieving an objective that you’d expect of an Olympic athlete.  Other breeds outwardly enjoy fetching balls and waiting for the next one to be thrown.  With Ben, a session of ‘fetch’ was more akin to watching a highly-trained operative at work – enjoyment seemed to be a secondary consideration to simply completing the task as quickly and as efficiently as possible.  You had to assume he was enjoying it, or he wouldn’t keep doing it, but it was clear he had little time for pointless tail-wagging when there was the serious business of another ball to retrieve.

He would transfer his highly-motivated, highly-disciplined approach to all aspects of his life.  When told it was time to go in, there was no sense of objection or ‘just one more’ lingering in the field, like most dogs would; he’d diligently trot to the back door and wait to be let in.  For Ben, clocking off one job did not mean switching off his default, obedient setting.

As you’d expect for such a focused individual, he was happiest when accompanying Martin wherever he went.  For most of his life, he was able to, from a standing start, spring into the back of a Range Rover and then settle straight down until he was next required.  Unlike our dogs, whose life in a secure, extended environment had inevitably blunted their ability to be ‘street-wise’ beyond the gates at the end of the drive, Ben had that rare ability to combine the best of both worlds.

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Ben and Sam, his first companion, in 2009

As Max and Abi came along and grew up, Ben found he was being asked to divide his focus to include additional family members – now with slightly different expectations.  Young children are more prone to spending time petting a resting dog and Ben accepted the unfamiliar extra attention and allowed himself to be a regular pet as well as a ball-retrieving team member.  He’d also indulge in games that didn’t require his fetching talents, circling and intently observing games of three-a-side football as if we were merely six unruly sheep who consistently defied his control.  When it snowed, we’d tow each other around the field on sledges and, while the whole thing must have made absolutely no sense to him, his work ethic decreed that it would always be necessary for him to run behind, as closely as possible for as long as he could.

As I’ve noted previously, it seems the cruellest long-term effect of incorporating dogs into a growing family is that their physical prime occurs when their young human companions are well short of theirs.  As the wheel of time turns and the kids’ speed and energy increases, the canine life-cycle means that they will eventually fail to keep up.  Even an intelligent animal who develops an ability to pace their exertions (as Ben undoubtedly was) will only be able to delay that inevitable day for so long.

The addition of a variety of smaller, furrier companions provided him with a less strenuous outlet for his livestock-wrangling instincts.  Rabbits, guinea pigs and, latterly, a pair of degu all required, in Ben’s mind, unflinching observation lest they break free from their cages and terrorise the household.  Not on his watch, they wouldn’t.

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Ben in his favourite place, waiting to chase another ball in the field

In his final year, Ben found he had a room-mate, another border collie: younger, faster, more headstrong, more unruly.  It’s a testing time for any older dog: a trial of both patience and ability to adapt.  Ben graciously allowed Meg into his house, delegating fetching responsibilities under his watchful gaze and tolerating her youthful boisterousness.  We’ll never really know if Meg has allowed herself to be influenced by Ben’s stoic example as she has grown from young pup to ebullient adolescent.  When she acts on her best behaviour, it’s easy to believe that perhaps she has.

Over the years, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune had begun to take their toll on Ben’s health, particularly the ability of his heart to function as fluently as it once had.  Naturally, his exertions became rationed for his own good as his condition was managed.  His quality of life was undiminished but, for his own good, his capabilities had to be thought of as reduced.

While he was as keen to participate, we let him but we knew he couldn’t be exhausted.  Similarly, he knew how to pace himself and his condition caused little concern until very recently, when, uncharacteristically, he chose not to take part in the ball games.  For such a driven and disciplined dog, it was the clearest message he could give that he knew his lifetime of service was coming to a close.

Today, his message was heeded and, after consultation with the vet, the decision was taken.  We buried him by the front lawn, in the shadow of the rhododendron bush, next to Sam.  It’s a cliché but it’s true: there’s always sadness at the passing of a loved one but you have to load the other side of the scales with the gratitude that they enriched your life and, hopefully, you enriched theirs.

Rest well, ‘Benny Boy’, you’ve worked hard for it and you earned all our affections.

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CSG: Brand Pillar 4 – People

On By pauljbenthamIn Client: Cleansing Service Group

Posted on www.csg.co.uk/blog on March 15th 2018

https://www.csg.co.uk/blog/brand-pillar-4-people

In earlier blogposts, we’ve examined how CSG’s Heritage, Innovation and Customer Service make up three of the ‘pillars’ identified as upholding our brand values. In this, the final part of the series, we focus on the fourth pillar, our People.

Accountants are often quick to remind business owners that ‘wages’ constitute their greatest expense. Unfortunately, while one of the fundamental principles of accountancy is to ensure assets and liabilities are listed and balanced, a company’s workforce isn’t ever given the status of an asset. Looking at the ways certain companies seem to operate, that one-sided view of employment can appear to sum up their relationship with those they employ.

At CSG, it couldn’t be more different. Across the business, there is a strong sense that the people who work for CSG are not just considered an asset but are very much the company’s greatest asset. You only have to flick through the pages of ‘The Hart of Waste’, the updated edition of the official CSG book and you’ll see that photographs of people from all parts of the business today (captioned with their names and their roles) are interspersed with all the significant events you’d expect to read about in an ‘Official History’. This focus on the importance of ‘The Team’ doesn’t happen by accident – it requires a strong ‘people’ culture, something that can really only be driven by a Board who truly believe in it.

Today, CSG has a turnover of over £65m but it is still a family-owned business. Through Heather Hart, CSG’s Chairman the founder’s daughter, there is a deep connection to the days when ‘Hampshire Cleansing Service’ operated from a single site, where the owners worked side-by-side with the staff and where every member of the team knew each other well. Today, with sites all over the country, spanning various different sectors of the market, clearly, that level of closeness is not possible – but it doesn’t mean that the same basic relationship between the company and those who work within it should change. In fact, one of Heather’s recollections explains much about the way her influence has set this tone.

“My father was always ‘Mr Hart’ and when I started, it was natural to everyone that I’d be greeted ‘Miss Heather’. I was never comfortable with that and preferred just ‘Heather’, so we began to adopt a first-name culture, which still exists today.”

The chief defender of the faith in the basic decency and unlocked potential of people is CSG’s Managing Director, Neil Richards.  Disarmingly engaging and frank, you don’t need to be in Neil’s company for long to see how passionate he is about the importance of people to a successful business. Just one question about his personal management style is all he needs to warm to the subject.

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CSG’s Managing Direct, Neil Richards.  Photo: CSG

“I learnt early in my career that a business can only be as good as its people, that most people are good and just require the right management. As a manager, you have the choice to release their potential or dumb down their abilities. I’ve always tried to empower people, to add enjoyment to what they do. I believe the potential of a workforce is huge so it’s not just something I do because it’s ‘a personal style’ – it’s an approach that’s good for business!”

CSG and Neil seem to be made for each other. He frequently refers to the people at CSG as the “brain power”, even the “horsepower” of the company, a central metaphor in his philosophy that good people, managed properly can add significant value. It’s hardly surprising that in Neil’s six years at the helm, the company has grown from 382 employees to 482 and its revenues from £44m to £65m.

“The first time I met Heather, I knew we had the same values. I saw how the family ethos was most evident at our Hampshire office and I wanted to ensure it was felt as strongly across the wider organisation. The waste industry is all about dealing with and benefitting from change. You can’t manage change any other way than with people”

But surely there’s a limit to all this new wave of collaboration and inclusivity, isn’t there? Hasn’t it all gone a little too far from the autocratic days when “everyone knew where they stood”? Presumably out of habit, Neil is quick to spot the counter argument of ‘old school’ management thinking – and quickly debunks it.

“It’s a fallacy that a ‘people’ style is all based on just being nice and offering incentives and rewards. There’s actually more conflict, more harsh exchanges of views when you empower people – which usually results in the right decision being made.

“In management, you mustn’t ever believe in your own propaganda, you need to be self-aware and a positive influence – you get more from a spoonful of sugar than a barrel of vinegar. It takes character and humility to do that, as well as common sense – a quality, which, unfortunately, isn’t that common! I’ve also learned that you know the culture is right when people begin to coach each other.”

There’s a simple reason that it’s important to see people helping each other, people empowering each other, even people occasionally arguing passionately with each other. They’re all symptoms of a workforce that cares about the work they do – a commodity that can sometimes seem to be vanishingly rare in the wider economy.

Hard-bitten traditionalists may smile and say that’s all very well but such observations amount to little more than anecdotes, circumstantial evidence. Where are the facts that support the assertion that there’s such a thing as ‘people power’?

You need look no further than our HR team to find the answer. The data they administer shows the number of people whose length of service runs into the decades and, perhaps most persuasively, the number of employees who apply to re-join, having previously left the business. Such statistics simply don’t occur at organisations where the workers feel they’re little more than a number.

Of course, you’d expect any company who claims to be committed to recognising the potential of its workforce to hold the ‘Investors In People’ accreditation, something which CSG has done for many years. Then, consider the number of apprentices CSG has developed into full-time employees in recent years and the many and varied ways the company supports the personal charitable efforts of its team. Finally, look at the number of retirees with at least ten years’ service who continue to benefit from the activities of The Margaret Hart Trust – a possibly unique fund, created to assist those who have helped to make CSG what it is today.

Neil Richards’ mantra is “it’s all about the people” and there are few companies in the UK today who can claim to be as focused on making the very most of their human resource as CSG.

CSG: Brand Pillar 2 – Heritage

On By pauljbenthamIn Client: Cleansing Service Group

Posted on www.csg.co.uk/blog on October 11th 2017

http://www.csg.co.uk/blog/brand-pillar-2-heritage/

By now, you may be familiar with CSG’s recent efforts to identify the most important elements that make us what we are – which we’ve called our brand pillars. Last week, we examined our unique approach to customer service. This time, the focus falls on another area that makes CSG so special: our heritage and no examination of CSG’s heritage would be worth reading if it didn’t feature our Chairman and the eldest daughter of our founder, Heather Hart.

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Heather Hart signing a book at this year’s CSG book launch for “The Hart of Waste A History of Cleansing Service Group”.  Photo: CSG

Edgar ‘Bunny’ Hart had started his Hampshire Cleansing Service in 1934, with the purchase of a single tanker and dreams of greater success, which he was busily pursuing several years later when the time came to start a family. Heather was thus born into a household dependent upon the success of a new business in a world shrouded by the uncertainties of war. It’s likely to have been a time which offered more than a little stress to disrupt this domestic idyll but Heather recollects little about her father’s work, back then.

“I remember knowing that my father was ‘back from the office’, when he arrived home but at that age, I didn’t question what that might mean.”

One reason for that may have been that Bunny was also an active member of the Home Guard, tasked with monitoring enemy activity, principally around Britain’s southern coastal towns. The Home Guard may now be inextricable linked with the hapless efforts of ‘Dad’s Army’ but in reality, their role was one which put them in the front line of any threat to occur on British soil.

Another reason why the two Hart daughters were shielded from the family business was the fact that their mother, Margaret was keen to keep the two spheres separate. She always insisted that they would not be forced into the business, by default. It’s something of a stereotype that family businesses are apt to carry discussions readily from the boardroom to the dining room table but if that ever happened in the Hart household, it was only when the girls were absent, a situation made more likely by their attendance at boarding school.

Heather’s first memory of visiting ‘the office’ (CSG’s original site at Botley, Hampshire) came when, aged “between 12 and 14”, she and her younger sister, Hilary rode their ponies there – literally all the way into their father’s office. When one of the ponies did what comes naturally – and what can always be expected of them at such moments – all over the office floor, Heather recalls “Bill Norton from the yard dealt with it”. As unfortunate as the incident was, at least you might conclude that it was the best possible place to have such a waste removal requirement!

By her mid-teens, Heather had become more aware of the nature and culture of her family’s business. At 15, something happened that was to push her further into the world her father had created:

“One of my father’s employees, Rosemary Rogers (always known as “Ro”) decided to marry Bill Voller, one of the drivers. Unfortunately, her parents disapproved of the marriage and let it be known that they would not be attending the wedding. My father offered to attend in support of Rosemary and, as my mother was ill at the time, I was to accompany him.”

Not only did this more closely acquaint Heather with the business, it was also clear that those who worked there were regarded by Bunny as a kind of extended family. It was a formative experience.

Despite her mother’s concerns, Heather later sought to develop her interest in CSG – to Bunny’s great delight – and began to work in the office a few days a week “learning bits and pieces, shadowing Father and reading lots of Directors’ correspondence”. As her compulsion to join the business had been entirely self-generated, her mother was placated. Heather’s involvement therefore seemed to suit everyone.

Within a few years, Heather had become elevated to the Board, already widely experienced and yet, in her own words, “not knowing I was learning – but then I’ve always underestimated my own knowledge”. Around this time, Bunny’s health was beginning to falter but still, Heather had no expectations to succeed him – “it wasn’t in anyone’s mind, certainly not mine. I was in control of the cash book at that time as we did not have an accountant in those days”.

Upon Bunny’s death in 1971, Heather became thrust towards a leadership role, a mere seven years after her first day in work. Heather refers to her status over the next years as a “gap filler”, diverting her attention variously to Human Resources, Sales and gaining British Standards accreditations. As modest as this description sounds, her approach of adding or enhancing systems to produce continuous performance improvements in different areas sound more like the actions of a trouble-shooter, adding value to the business and maintaining the family interest.

Within months, she and CSG would find themselves at the centre of an emergency making national headlines that many observers, Heather included, believed would shape the very future of the whole waste industry.

It was February 1972 and police were called to a site near a children’s playground in Nuneaton to find 36 drums of highly toxic sodium cyanide ash dumped on open ground. The incident made front-page news and resulted in an emergency debate in the House of Commons the next day. Sweetways, a CSG subsidiary had been engaged by the authorities to move the material to our Botley site, where it was safely treated.

MPs were calling for reform of an industry that had failed to prevent an incident that could potentially have resulted in a major tragedy but many in the industry seemed resistant, aware that stronger regulation threatened to disrupt their livelihoods. CSG had to decide if it was better to position itself as a more responsible operator, with the expectation that tougher legislation would gain more business in the longer term, or add its voice to those keen to maintain the status quo. Unanimously, the Board chose the former option, embracing the brave new world of regulation and greater professionalism.

From today’s perspective, it seems as if it was an obvious choice but ours is a perspective shaped, in part, by that decision. It must have taken a great deal of courage to see through the uncertainties and dissenting voices to choose to reject the comfortable certainties of the past and invite a huge level of change, based on little more than a belief that that’s where opportunity lay.

Today, 45 years on, Heather is sanguine about the seismic shift that she and her fellow Board members saw coming.

“I think we all knew there was a need for the industry to be more responsible. The issues we faced were how to achieve that: via what processes and over what timescale? Many of the changes required increased costs or risked turning away business. Of course, we had to make these changes but we also had to remain in the market long enough to see them through.”

History now shows that this single issue heralded many of the changes the waste industry has since undergone: professionalism, consolidation, specialisation, while not alien concepts beforehand, have all become commonplace in the years since 1972.

One thing that hasn’t changed much in all that time is the strong culture within CSG; where employees are still able to think of themselves as part of the ‘extended family’. As in the rest of society, the style has become less deferential, although here too, Heather can claim to have driven this progression.

“My father was always ‘Mr Hart’ and even the Board used to refer to each other in this way. When I started, it was natural to everyone that I’d be greeted ‘Miss Heather’. I was never comfortable with that and preferred just ‘Heather’, so we began to adopt a first-name culture, which still exists today.”

It’s a culture that’s often remarked upon by new starters and it’s one that’s made more evident by the number of people who’ve been on the payroll for twenty, thirty, even fifty years. To Heather, this is more than just a statistic; it’s part of the very essence of CSG.

“The importance of having a mix of different people, with different experiences and backgrounds, each learning from the other, is hugely underestimated.”

Today, CSG has revenues of over £60m and profits of over £4.5m. In such rarefied business circles, the term ‘family business’ is often derided, as shorthand for parochialism or lack of professional impetus. Is CSG really still a family business?

“We’ve always needed professional management at the highest levels – and we’ve backed them – but the involvement of the family adds focus”, Heather insists.

Perhaps the most prominent evidence of CSG’s unique heritage is the Margaret Hart Trust, set up in 1975 by Bunny’s wife, (Heather and Hilary’s mother) as a lasting tribute to CSG’s Founder. The trust was established to provide later-life assistance to any retired CSG employee with over 10 years’ service as well as any current employee who might be long term sick.

“It assists with gardening, stair-lifts, holidays amongst many other things – and we have a lovely party for all those it helps every year, which is great fun. I think its greatest achievement is that it has consistently enabled people to keep living in their own homes for longer. My sister Hilary chairs the Trust and we are both very proud of it.”

CSG has always tried to combine the best of both worlds: the achievement and capability of a dynamic corporation with the lighter touch and firmer identity of a family concern. It’s a rare combination and one that’s a testimony to the vision, not just of the man who started it all, but to his descendants who have worked to retain the essence of that family business, established 83 years ago.

Archived: Marley & Us

On By pauljbenthamIn Something to Say...

Originally published as a FB Note, on 20 May 2008 at 22:16

It’s the usual friend-of-a-friend story: We got him after Easter from a couple in Crosby, Liverpool. He was giving the lady allergic reactions and, much as they loved him, they decided to give him up. Having seen him and decided that he was just the kind of dog we liked (not that we were looking for one) – a golden version of Sam, not over-bred, still a pup and with a strong personality.

There was only really one problem. At his previous household, he’d gone by the name of ‘Charlie’. If we were going to have him, we couldn’t possibly duplicate a name. With the addition in the last year of two horses, and a dog and a child next door, the number of new names to remember was bad enough without the potential for confusion that this created.

We even considered not taking him, but in a moment of lucidity, I remembered a great book I read on holiday last year, called Marley & Me (look out for the film in 2009 starring Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston), about the life and love of a golden lab, which really touched me. As the name rhymed and the book was so appropriate, it struck me that the best thing to do for all was to change his name to ‘Marley’.

Once I’d realised that, it seemed pre-ordained that we should get him and in the end of March, we did. After an interesting couple of weeks in which he and Sam discovered the boudaries of acceptable behaviour, they have become inseparable, which is great to see.

At 9 months, he’s still a mad puppy, although he’s nearly fully-grown. If he makes half the dog that we have in Sam, I’ll be happy. He comes when I whistle or shout him and he doesn’t beg at mealtimes. Already, he’s become a member of the family. I’m sure that within a month or so, we’ll begin to wonder what we would ever do without him. That’s the point at which we know he has really made an impact on us.