A week ago I had to visit an office. I had the address, I got out of the tube at the right station and I had a small map in my pocket, but I simply couldn’t find the right building – until I started asking passing blokes. They were extremely helpful; two got out their mobiles and the last simply took my arm. Such a demonstration of gallantry should have made finding the right place easy, except that they each had a slightly different view about where I should be, let alone how we could get there.
I did get there in the end, though I was a bit late, but I couldn’t help thinking how tiresome it must be for people, like politicians, who rely on getting good advice and constantly find that no two people offer the same, or sometimes even an alike, suggestion of what should be done.
And advice, now I come to think of it, is one of the things which the very young and the very old have in common. They get endlessly told what they should do for the best, but their advisers firmly recommend completely different things. Schools don’t agree with parents any more than carers always agree with children. One person advises that a child can’t be left with a dysfunctional parent, while another deplores the eagerness of experts to break up a family. A school might tell pupils how laws can stop injustices, while an uncle who runs a small business hates any state interference.
Still, at least one can blame the adviser for any regrettable outcomes; we’re all pretty good at refusing to take the blame. We’ve been doing it, I suppose since Adam, who said: “The women tempted me and I did eat.” If the advice is going to be rotten we’ve only ourselves to blame for taking it.
What do you think? Have your say below
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