Ruminations on the non-delivery of a parcel (continued)

Last night at 8.30pm I blogged about the potential delivery of a parcel. I waited for it until 10.45pm, at about which time it became clear that the driver had decided to give up, having reached stop number 75 out of 111 stops (I was stop no. 84). I assume he (as I say, almost always a he) took the remaining 36 parcels back to the depot. Which means that one third of yesterday’s delivery route now has to be delivered today. This may all be par for the course in the run-up to that totally unforeseen event known as Christmas, but I have drawn three magnificent observations about it: 1. Information doesn’t equal knowledge; 2. Society’s arteries are hardening; 3. A Brexit related unintended benefit?
 

1. Information doesn’t equal knowledge. The GPS assisted tracking system that we can now access to follow the progress of our delivery may tell us we’re 84th in the queue but it doesn’t actually tell us how long that queue is. Some ‘stops’ will take longer than others. What if the driver has a break (heaven forbid)? In this example, if deliveries actually started 12 hours ago, and 75 stops had been made, then each delivery takes 9.6 minutes. I might therefore have expected to get my parcel just before 10pm. Then, with another 27 scheduled stops, the driver may expect to have completed his round four and a half hours later – that is, 2.30am the next day. Add an hour to get back to the depot and his working day would have been 21 hours. Probably more in fact, since I have not included the time at the start of the day when he must have loaded his van. Where am I going with this, apart from the fact that the info sent to me was useless? It is that the company itself that allows (or encourages) a driver to load up with 111 stops’ worth of deliveries is stupid. By making the task unachievable it fails on many counts.
2. Society’s arteries are hardening: the culture which encourages the stupid behaviour highlighted here is based on the ‘just in time’ philosophy of delivery, which is to say that all spare capacity has to be stripped out of the system. The original justification for this was to reduce capital being locked up in stock idling away earning nothing in warehouses. It also put the onus for many aspects of production onto the shoulders of others, thus creating supply chains where the weakest link could bring a stoppage to the whole process. In the development of this model, distribution became a whole new, vibrant industry creating 100,000s of shiny new low paid jobs based in massive sheds dotted around the countryside. But this industry only works when everything works at full capacity all the time – low overheads is its mantra. It is the private sector’s version of austerity, which means that when something goes wrong it is more likely to go wrong badly.    
3. A Brexit related unintended benefit? Brexit is already reversing the tide of East European migrants to the UK, as more of them find that the depreciating pound makes their low paid labour less worthwhile. Many migrants work in the distribution economy. Being a labour intensive industry reliant on low pay has enabled deals to be struck which kept delivery costs low, and that meant that online shopping boomed as much of it was marketed with ‘free’ delivery. If wage costs rise as a result of Brexit, such deals may dry up, and many consumers will have to factor in this external cost of their online purchasing. What if delivery costs start to match the discounts online retailers offer? Could that lead to the high street becoming more competitive? And even, as my particular example here illustrates, more convenient?

 
Anyway, as of now my delivery is nowhere to be seen and the delivery company’s website is conveniently ‘down.’ A year ago this nationally significant company posted a £58million loss. The only smile brought to my lips in this saga is that it is owned by the Barclay brothers.