Wednesday, January 09, 2008

A brick wall of bureacratic incompetence

I'm panicking. I'm panicking because I think I'm about to do something very stupid: I'm about to take up a job at anoth institution that shall remain nameless, lest they try to sue me.

The whole thing has been such a tremendous cock-up from start to...well, they're actually still mid cock-up, that I'm not sure what possessed me to go through with it. Wistful naivety perhaps; or maybe the fact that my boss had already told everyone I was leaving and I didn't have the nerve to back out; or maybe a bit of both.

The main fault lies not so much with my new department, who have been conspicuous only by their lack of involvement in everything but the interview itself, but the HR department, who make ours look competent (and for the record, ours is the department that accidentally managed to put someone else's appraisal into my file, which I found when I was looking up old references. Whoops!) In contrast, the HR department at my new college seems utterly incapable, not to say lacking any form of what one might term Common Sense. To give you some examples:

- My application form asked me what my current salary was and when my next increment would be due. My next increment would have been due in February, but HR in their infinite wisdom have put me on a grade matching my current salary and not including this increment, thus making me worse off when I start my new job.
- Talking of my new job, it is in the process of being regraded, which could lead to a £4K paycut. HR didn't think to mention this to me at any point during the interview progress, or in the bumph they sent me (three weeks after I was offered the job) when I was signing the contract etc, presumably thinking this to be of little importance.

Oh, and then there's the small matter of the CRB form, which is a whole catastrophe in its own right.

As I will be working with vulnerable people I'm required to complete a CRB form, to make sure I haven't molested anyone in the three years since they last checked to see if I'd molested anyone. Except that I'm not allowed to send it off myself, HR has to do it for me. This should be fairly easy, since three sections of the form are now obselete - they have printed lots of shiny "Guidance Notes" telling you not to complete these sections rather than, more sensibly one might think, just printing new forms. What you are left with is a simple form that asks you for your name and addresses, and a few documents from an extensive list to prove that you're not actually Lord Lucan in a cunning disguise.

Simple my arse.

It would be simple for any normal person, but, as I am rapidly discovering, I am not a normal person; I am a legal fiction.

Confusion arose early on when the form asked for my place of birth, and I had put Guernsey, because that's what it says on my passport. It then asks if this is in the UK. Well, it isn't. Technically speaking it's in the UK AND ISLANDS, and I'm not about to lie to the CRB, am I? So I left it blank and asked the HR lady what to put. HR Lady was most suspicious and confused by this concept, and eventually rang the CRB, who didn't know either. I listened to the call and heard her say "She tells me it's in the Channel Islands" in that tone you use when you're not allowed to say that in your opinion she's talking a load of bollocks. "It is!" I mouthed at her, but she ignored me. She then said I couldn't just put Guernsey, but had to say what otwn in Guernsey I was born in. I said this was a little difficult, as Guernsey is roughly the same in circumference as Heathrow Airport, and therefore smaller than many towns. I don't think she believed me, and eventually she shrugged and said "well, we can leave it blank, but they'll send it back."

I left it blank. This was 3 weeks ago. They rang me last week and asked for my town of birth, so I explained it again. Then they emailed me today. They wanted to know my date of birth. Before they sent it off.

So they haven't even sent it yet.

It takes roughly 1-3 months.

I start in February.

Do the Maths.

WANKERS!

[And breathe]

Oh, and I stupidly protested to them during this whole debarcle that I wasn't even born in Guernsey anyway, so I could hardly make up an area of Guernsey to have been born in.

Again she eyed me with what was a deeply suspicious look trying to force itself out from behind her glassy stare.

I explained that I was adopted and that my parents had elected Guernsey, rather than Bradford or Blackburn (wouldn't you?) as my place of birth. She asked me if thsi was for tax purposes (how on earth that would work I don't know) then told me gravely (if indeed there's such a thing as a grave monotone) that the CRB would want to see my adoption certificate, and that I would need to provide it.

I don't need to provide it. Unlike HR Lady I had read the CRB form, which stated you only had to supply it if adopted over the age of six. I was just over three months old.

"It says "Please provide your adoption certificate", she said, reading from the form.

"...if you were adopted after the age of 6 years", I finished, also reading.

She gave me that Did Not Compute look then repeated that I had to provide it.

This presents something of a difficulty, as I have never seen it, and to the best of my knowledge don't have it. To get it would involve a trip to Preston, or possibly Stockport, which is more than a little inconvenient, not to say unnecessary. It's also rather intrusive: I've never seen the damn thing myself, so they certainly aren't getting a peek.

I then got to the evidence. I had my National Insurance Card, my passport and a bank statement. She wanted a utility bill.

As delicately as I could I pointed out that all that was required was one item from list A and two from list B, and here I was with three pieces of evidence all on a list.

But she wanted a utility bill.

I explained that I live in a flat that comes with my partner's job, so we do not get any utility bills. She told me it was very important I get my name added to the utility bill asap as apart from anything else I'll never get a mortgage if I don't. (This is news to me, and quite what it has to do with her I don't know.) Again I said this was impossible - there were no bills. She didn't believe me. I can only assume therefore that anyone with a tied house - school houseparents, hall wardens, some nurses and careworkers - not to mention people still living with Mummy and Daddy, are not able to work at this elite Institution That Shall Remain Nameless.

I can't advise any students until my CRB has come through successfully, which makes me pretty useless given the job is as a Student Adviser. Nor, I assume, can I advise students if I'm mid-nervous breakdown, which I think I might be by then.