Friday, 14 August 2015

Testing my Patience



Yesterday, I sat my driving theory test.  Obviously it was, like any test, somewhat nerve-wracking, however I had prepared thoroughly and knew what to expect.  From the test itself that is.  The process I had to go through prior to being permitted into the test room itself however surprised, annoyed, and to some extent offended me.

I entered the building, past a bored-looking receptionist/security guard type who gave me not a second look (actually, he might not have given me a first look).  Following the signs, I went through a door, down a long, narrow and rather ominous corridor towards a door saying ‘Candidates Only: No Other Admittance’.  Passing through this portal, I found myself in a waiting room/reception area.

Here, a friendly receptionist gave a laminated sheet of Thou Shalt Nots that I had to sit and read through.  The standard exam stuff: no talking; no mobile phones/pagers/tablets: no taking in (or making) notes; no bags; everything to be stowed in a locker etc.  All fair enough.  I also had to remove my watch, which I found odd.

The surprise/annoyance/offence started when I went to the receptionist to return the laminated sheet and collect a locker key.  She asked if I’d turned off my phone, which I had.  Bearing in mind that my phone would be in the locker, in the waiting room, this seemed like an unnecessary precaution, but since it might disturb other people while they were waiting, didn’t seem totally unreasonable.  She then asked me to show her that it was turned off.  Apparently my word wasn’t good enough.

Having done so (after fishing it back out of my bag) I was permitted to go through another doorway, where a second lady explained the format of the test (which my preparation had already made me aware of).  She then made me show her my hands and wrists, and turn out my pockets.  I still had my keys and change in my pocket, so I had to go back out and put them in the locker.  I then had to turn out my pockets (side and back) to show that they were empty.  At this point, if she had produced an elbow-length rubber glove and forced me to undergo a full cavity search, x-ray and polygraph test, I wouldn’t have been wholly surprised.

Having quelled her suspicions, I was allowed into the exam room, where several signs informed me that I was being monitored by CCTV.  I sat at my allotted screen and took my test, finished, left, was permitted to collect my effects, was given my results and allowed to leave by a different door to the one I entered by.

Now obviously they need to make sure that people don’t cheat on these tests.  I fully appreciate that.  They’re important, and they’re there for a reason.  Telling people that they can’t have phones etc. makes perfect sense, and even having the CCTV there to help spot attempted cheaters doesn’t seem unreasonable.  Stopping cheaters is completely necessary.  The part that annoyed me was when I was asked to show in advance that I wasn’t trying to cheat.

I still have these quaint and archaic ideas about a person being innocent until proven guilty; the idea that it should be assumed that I am not trying to cheat until I am caught cheating, or there is reason to assume that I am trying to.  This is the opposite of what happened.  I was treated as guilty until I proved myself innocent.  Apparently the fact that I was taking the test was sufficient reason to assume that I was trying to cheat.  It was assumed that I had not turned my phone off until I had shown that I had.  It was assumed that I was wearing my watch (beneath which, presumably, information could have been concealed) and had written on my hands, until I proved otherwise.  It was assumed that I had notes or other devices in my pockets until I turned them out.  Why I wasn’t allowed keys or change in there, I have absolutely no idea.  Perhaps I might have a James Bond-esque microradio disguised as a pound coin?

I would like to emphasise that both the ladies involved were never less than courteous, and presumably didn’t write the policies which it is their lot to enforce.  At least, I shall assume so until I see evidence to the contrary.  I might also assume that these draconian and offensive policies have been put in place because many people have tried to cheat, which would be deeply saddening, but I’m not sure whether this is the case, or just the DVSA trying to prevent any such occurrence.

It saddens and angers me that we are all being treated like the lowest common denominator, that it is assumed that we have no sense of personal honour, that, in short, we are not to be trusted.  I meant to say something to the receptionist on the way out, but forgot to.

You might say that we must prove ourselves trustworthy before we are trusted, but that is not the world I wish to live in.  This may be another case of my hopeless and naïve idealism, but I would far rather live in a world in which we must prove ourselves untrustworthy, prove ourselves unworthy of respect, prove ourselves dishonourable and dishonest, or else be assumed to be trustworthy, respectable, honourable and honest.

I can’t force the DVSA to see things my way (although I’ve half a mind to write to them, for all the good it would do), but I can determine to treat others in the way I would wish to be treated.  Everyone is born innocent, and until I see evidence to the contrary, I shall assume that that is still the way they are.


(Oh, and if you're interested, I passed my test.  Hurrah!)

Thursday, 6 August 2015

Another 'Three Men' Review



I had a spare copy of 'Three Men' knocking about, so I posted on the UK Methodists group on Facebook and asked whether anyone would like a free book in exchange for writing a review.  Someone called Andrew Davidson responded, and I posted the book last Saturday.

I stand in awe of our marvellous postal service, for by Tuesday evening, it had not only arrived (and it only went 2nd class) but Mr. Davidson had already read the book, and posted his review on the Facebook group.

Now, I know that it’s terribly bad form to quote one’s own reviews…  So here goes:


Book Review - "Three Men on a Pilgrimage - a Comical Progress" by Thomas Jones.

If you are looking for a book that tackles some of the issues within the bible this is an ideal choice. It is philosophically challenging, tackling theological conundrums in an imaginative and humorous way, but with a serious outlook. A book that is hard to put down, but once read calls to be picked up again and again. Each chapter takes a theological concern and opens a door leading to thought and discussion. Possibly an interesting one to follow in a bible study group.

It is the story of three men who, realising they possess nearly all the deadly sins, decide to go on a walking pilgrimage to Canterbury to redeem themselves. Along the way they encounter many strange incidents and people who give them food for thought. Reflects one's own life and thoughts.

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Game Mechanics and Real Morality



I’ve mentioned before in this blog that one of my hobbies is the running and playing of table-top roleplay games.  I think that I’ve also mentioned that I have written up my own set of rules, and created several different campaign settings to use them with.

My rules are in a constant state of development and play-testing.  They’ve gone through 3 distinct ‘editions’ and uncountable minor tweaks and changes.  Almost all roleplaying games (and mine is no exception) describe both player and non-player characters though a series of numerical statistics that show how strong or weak they are in various mental, physical and interpersonal aspects.  I’ve recently been toying with the idea of inserting another appendix into my rulebook dealing with additional character attributes that could be included, depending on the genre of game being played.

Many games make use of an ‘alignment’ mechanic of some kind to track a character’s morality and ethics.  The classic example is Dungeons and Dragons’ double axis system of Lawful-Neutral-Chaotic and Good-Neutral-Evil, allowing a character to choose one of nine alignments, from Lawful Good to Chaotic Evil, to represent their moral outlook.

I’ve been tinkering with this idea, mostly thinking about how it would work for an Arthurian-style game, and I’ve been considering 2 separate numerical traits, Virtue and Glory.  Virtue is gained through acts of generosity, mercy and kindness, and lost through acts of cruelty, ruthlessness and evil.  Glory is gained by defeating enemies, courageous deeds and completing quests, and lost by being defeated, and through cowardice and failure.  It would be possible to increase both scores at the same time, or increase one and decrease another (by, for example, defeating a powerful enemy and gaining Glory, but then killing him after he’d surrendered, losing Virtue).

A certain level of Virtue would be required for a character to be able to enter a particularly sacred place, use certain magical items, be approached by certain magical being, or to look upon, or even be allowed to drink from the Holy Grail.

The idea is that it encourages player to play their characters in a certain way (which is why such a mechanic is only suited to certain genres).  However, there is a problem with such a mechanic (and this goes back to the whole ‘means and ends’ thing I’ve been chewing over recently, and to my pondering on ways of giving to charity even further back) in that it encourages characters to do good not because this is how their characters ought to be behaving, but for an out-of-character reward.

“Ok, so I murdered that peasant because it was funny, but I can just get that Virtue back by donating money to the next five beggars I meet.”  It ceases to be a reward for good roleplaying, and becomes a currency for which they sell their good behaviour, in the expectation of being able to spend it further down the line.

And now; the inevitable real world analogy! (You knew it was coming!)

It is my belief that people ought to do good, and avoid evil for the sake of doing good, and avoiding evil, as ends in and of themselves, and not as means to some greater reward or evasion of punishment.  I always refused to get involved in the very public displays of charity that the supermarket I was employed by indulged in, because it was done as a form of marketing, and with the good of the intended recipients as a secondary consideration, at least by the company itself.

Should it matter?  If good is done and evil avoided, if charities are supported and people helped, does it matter whether it is an ends or a means, and whether our motivations are pure or self-centred?

In a word; yes.  In fact, my understanding of my religion is such that I think it’s possibly more important.  As I’ve said before, you cannot buy or bargain your way into Heaven.  God does not award Virtue points, and there is no threshold of points which will give you entry.  In fact, I believe that humans are incapable of ever earning enough Virtue points to ever get in.  This being the case, our motivations are far more important than our actions, although of course if they never become actions at all, our motivations count for less than nothing.

We should play our characters the way the great Games Master wishes them to be played, without any thought of out of character rewards.  We will be rewarded, but not because we have earned it.  In the meantime though, the Game will be that much better for our playing it well.