covid19 – Terence Eden’s Blog

Talking Contact Tracing at FOSDEM

@edent — Thu, 06 Feb 2025 12:34:19 +0000

I was delighted to be invited to speak at FOSDEM. And I was not at all intimidated to be speaking on the cavernous Janson stage. The audience were lovely⁰, asked interesting questions¹, and - most importantly - laughed in all the right places 😅.

Regular readers will recognise this as being an updated² version of the talk I gave at EMF 2024 - feel free to watch that one if you want to see if I've improved.

Huge thanks to the AV team and the video-wizards behind the FOSDEM infrastructure.

As I say in my introduction, these are my personal recollections. I no longer work for the Government, so feel free to send any complaints to the circular file.

Feedback

A few pieces of public feedback I got after the talk.

Except for one weird heckler who shouted out something incomprehensible. ↩︎
Well, one guy came up afterwards and asked "What exactly is Covid? Can you explain?" I politely suggested he speak to a medical professional. ↩︎
But, yes, still wearing the same t-shirt! ↩︎

Pushing The Button

@edent — Tue, 07 May 2024 11:34:53 +0000

This is a retropost. Written contemporaneously in 2020, but published four years after the events. It's May 2020 as I write this. I'm typing to capture the moment. Right now, I've no idea what the impact is.

This is the exact moment, on Thursday May 7th, I hit the Big Red Button - three of them! - to open source the UK's COVID-19 Beta test app.

https://shkspr.mobi/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Open-Source-NHSX.mp4

It was thrilling and terrifying. We'd spent the last few weeks getting ready to open source the repos and then, at the last minute, it all went wrong. The plan was to launch on Tuesday - but fate conspired against us.

The problems fell into three main areas:

Threats and personal safety. This was probably the highest profile code release that we'd ever done. There were already people grumbling online that the people writing the code were "traitors". Did we want to expose our people to that sort of personal abuse? What if they were targets of phishing attempts?
Redacting history. Probably the most contentious issue. We all wanted to release everything from the very first commit. Would that reveal anything dangerous? Had someone slipped and accidentally committed an API key they shouldn't?
Communications. The other most contentious issue! The department were in "crisis comms" mode. Everything was delayed. No one had reviewed the blog I'd written, there was no pre-arranged plan in place for this sort of thing. Understandable really - this was a tiny piece of a much larger puzzle. But it was still frustrating to wait for people to be ready for us to publish.

We took the pragmatic approach. We took a snapshot of the code, thoroughly scrubbed it of all identifying information and secrets, and prepared to release it. Then we waited. And waited.

Every time we thought we had the go-ahead, there was another delay! There was a strict comms schedule. We couldn't launch now; it would interrupt that other announcement!

I was asked to help rewrite bits of the announcements. This led to some memorable questions from the comms squad. How can you explain to the average user...

what "Source Code" is?
why the Android code is different from the iPhone code?
who are "Git Hub"?

And, the kicker? All these questions came in while I was on a conference call with a bunch of government ministers! The joys of multiple monitors!

It was interminable. I sent texts which went unanswered. Emails. Phone calls. Just a few minutes more. Any moment now. We need to wait for...

And then!

"Can we launch ASAP?"

Yes! The email I was waiting for. But I am a paranoid and cautious Fraggle. Was that "Launch now!" or "Can we launch now?"?

So I sent a reply. "Just to confirm - do you want me to publish now?" And waited.

And waited.

I got an email from my boss "Launch now!"

And a second later, from comms: "Please hold off - no go. Will call you shortly."

How I longed to press that button. I could say that I only saw the first email... No. Maybe. No.

An eternity. During which time I casually glanced at Twitter and read all the angry messages from people demanding the release of the code.

The call came. "Publish it - but don't tell anyone." Weird flex, but OK.

I called my very-patient wife into my home office. I wanted the moment captured. She opened her camera. A few clicks, and it was done.

I did a little dance. Let all of the tension out of my body. And waited for the hate to roll in.

It didn't. The response was... positive! Yes, there were grumbles, but so many people were fulsome in their praise that it was overwhelming. Congratulatory tweets and emails did the rounds, and I had a nice cold ale.

I took the bank holiday weekend off. Well, I obsessively read all the tweets, answered questions about my blog post, and kept half-an-eye on GitHub. I'm not good at relaxing.

Has it worked? Did we make the NHS more open and transparent? Did open source win the day? Did the beta test work? Were lives saved? Or was it a damp squib?

As I write this, we're still in the eye of the storm. Perhaps, when this post is published, we'll know the answers.

The Digital Covid Test That Nearly Was

@edent — Wed, 23 Aug 2023 11:34:14 +0000

These are notes that I wrote during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic. I've published them a few years later.

By now, you're probably sick and tired of shoving a swab up your nose and / or down your throat. You've grown blasé about the little medical marvel as it reacts to whatever antibodies are flowing laterally. You don't even bother reading the paper leaflet any more. Right?

But that swab test wasn't the only option on the table.

One of the (many) tasks our team was looking into was how to make the experience of taking the test more digital. Instead of black-and-white pamphlet, how about... ~~AN IPHONE APP~~ an interactive website? It could show you videos of exactly what to do! It could have a built in timer to remind you when to check your results! It could have multiple languages - including British Sign Language! AMAZING!

Sure, there would be a cost to producing and updating it - but making it easier for people to take accurate tests could save lives. And that'd be worth it, right? We wrestled with several different ideas and sketches of prototypes. Testing them to see if they were actually useful. In the main, they weren't.

But this wasn't the only digital process we were considering. One proposed Covid test was digital. I don't mean there was a circuit board examining your results. I mean digital - as in it used your finger.

I placed the tiny needle, safely trapped in a plastic sheath, against my forefinger. "With a quick stabbing motion," read the leaflet, "prick the skin." I did so. I suppose the best thing I could say about the experience was that it was a different kind of pain to the brain-piercing horror of the nasal swab. *shudders*

The leaflet continued, "Milk three drops of blood from your finger." I had to pause for a moment. "Milking" blood isn't high on my list of super-funtime activities. Nevertheless, I persisted and managed to spill just enough of the red stuff into the provided capsule.

What was the next step? I looked at the leaflet. "PTO"

So I grabbed the leaflet, flipped it over and stared vacantly at the blood-stained mess.

Ah.

There were many reasons - so I am told - why the finger-prick tests weren't widely rolled out. There was significant cost, the risk from sharps was hard to manage, and people simply didn't like cutting themselves to bleed. It didn't matter how much more accurate the test was - if you can't convince people to take it regularly, it isn't worth it.

Also, it was messy.

Would a whizzy digital service to accompany it have helped? Perhaps a video from a friendly face with a reassuring accent to calm your fears? Gently smiling as they sliced into their fingers? Probably not. People would have just ended up with blood-soaked iPhone screens.

Ew!

So, farewell then COVID-19 App

@edent — Thu, 27 Apr 2023 11:34:29 +0000

Today is a day of mixed emotions for me. The UK's COVID tracing app is finally closing.

The app was, by any reasonable measure, a success.

A team of experts at the Pandemic Sciences Institute at the University of Oxford and Department of Statistics at the University of Warwick estimate the NHS COVID-19 app prevented around 1 million cases, 44,000 hospitalisations and 9,600 deaths during its first year.

Source

Earlier this year, I recorded a short video about what it was like working on the app and making it Open Source.

I kept a detailed diary of my experiences working at NHSX. It was a surreal time - I went from one day casually presenting PowerPoints to the next day urgently briefing Chief Scientific Advisors. I worked longer and harder than I ever had before.

I had prominent members of the commentariat accuse me of being an overpaid, Eton-educated, management consultant (wrong on all three counts!) I was told I was helping usher in mass surveillance while, simultaneously, being criticised for not getting the app out sooner. I had to tell some rather strong personalities that what they wanted wasn't technically possible - and then work out why what should have worked wasn't working.

Memorably, someone told me that open-sourcing the app was irresponsible because Open Source was just ShareWare! Yeah, I don't understand that either...

Our work was mentioned on national - and international - broadcasts. It was literally front-page news.

And now... it's over.

Have we beaten COVID? It'll probably never be eradicated, but the data are looking hopeful.

I'm so proud of what the whole team accomplished. I'm grateful that I had a chance to help build something so effective and make it open source.

I know it is a little weird to think of an app like this as a start-up. But that's how it felt at the time. And I know all good products are eventually obsolete. But I'm still a little sad that it's over.

So tonight I'll be drinking a toast to the app - and all those who worked so hard on it.

All within the NHS's alcohol consumption guidance of course!

Getting Jabbed With EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE!

@edent — Sat, 22 Apr 2023 11:34:56 +0000

This is a Retropost. I wrote it contemporaneously - but was only allowed to publish it a year later.

Today I took part in "A Phase 2/3, Randomized, Observer-blind, Active-controlled, Multicenter Study to Evaluate the Immunogenicity and Safety of Omicron Variant Vaccines in Comparison with mRNA-1273 (Prototype) Booster Vaccine".

In the name of science, I allowed myself to be injected with an experimental mRNA vaccine in the hope that it gives me super-powers and makes me invincible. Or, as they rather more prosaically put it:

The purpose of this study is to compare how your body responds to the booster dose of mRNA-1273.529 or mRNA-1273.214 (Omicron variant study vaccines) with authorised Moderna mRNA-1273 vaccine (Spikevax). This study will also test the safety of these vaccines by recording the number of side effects.

Basically, a lovely team of scientists are going to monitor me (and a few hundred other people) to see if this thing is effective against Omicron and whether it causes me to grow an extra nipple. Of course, being a blind-study, I won't know if I've got the new and improved version. But it's a 50/50 chance. If not, I'll still get a regular booster. No placebos here! So, for the next year I'll be filling in a diary and regularly reporting back to the trial team to see what happens.

Sadly, the terms of the trial mean that I can't talk about the specifics of it until it is over. So, that's why this blog post has been published 12 months after the fact.

Huge thanks to my wife who got on the trial first and then cheekily asked if her current squeeze could also participate.

And thanks to the person who shared this into our timeline:

Friday, 22nd April 2022

The first day was rather time consuming. A huge document to read through with a doctor where they explained everything which could go wrong (not much) and what was going to happen to all the vials of blood I gave them.

Then, a bunch of physical examinations to see whether I was healthy enough to take part. My blood pressure and BMI were deemed satisfactory.

But then, disaster! As this was the first day of the trial, the team weren't quite sure how to work the Moderna(?) randomisation software. This is the thing which randomly assigns participants a pseudononymous ID and flips a coin to see who gets the regular booster and who gets the Omicron version.

Once that was done, it was stick up the nose time. Eugh! And then several vials of blood to be taken. The staff were fantastic - calm, professional, and happy to chat.

After a bunch more waiting around, a friendly nurse jabbed me with magic potion. Then 15 minutes of waiting to make sure I didn't have an immediate reaction.

While that was happening, I got to grips with the (crappy) Android app which pings me reminders to enter my observations. It's a crude bit of survey tech, but it works.

I also got a bunch of LFD tests, a digital thermometer, and a card with contact information on.

Over the next few days I'll fill in survey, talk to the trial team to make sure I'm OK, and report any weirdness. Apparently Moderna will be paying me a few quid per survey I answer. Which is nice.

Saturday, 23rd April 2022

24 hours afterwards and… not much to report. My arm is a bit sore - and I'm a little tired. But it's nothing like as bad as the last three. Hmmm… I wonder if that means I've just got the regular booster and my immune system isn't too fussed by it?

Ah, but in the evening, the headache hit. Nothing that an ibuprofen couldn't handle.

Friday, 29th April 2022

My first phone call with the research team. I reassured them that I hadn't sprouted any new appendages, and that nothing had fallen off. No medication - apart from an ibuprofen for the aforementioned headache. All done and dusted in 5 minutes.

Thursday, 12th May 2022

I've just spent 3 days at a crowded conference. A few people wearing masks, but not many. Lots of hand-shaking and (well-ventilated) enclosed spaces. Let's see if I get any symptoms.

Friday, 20th May 2022

A month after the initial jabbing, they took my blood again. This will be tested to see if I have super powers.

Tuesday, 31st May 2022

Buggeration. I went to bed last night with a sore throat. This morning, Liz's LFT has a little red line. Mine remains clear. This either means I have the super-drug in my body, or I cocked up the test.

(Spoiler alert - I cocked up the test.)

Interestingly, the LFT supplied by the study had a code on it which wasn't recognised by the reporting service. So I used the negative one to report the problem, sending out pings far and wide.

Wednesday, 1st June 2022

So far, things aren't so bad. Quite snuffly, with a sinus headache. Sore throat seems to have abated. Bit cold and shivery. Basically like the tail end of a bad cold. Slight shortness of breath, but nothing drastic.

Utterly gutted to be missing #EMFcamp.

Thursday, 2nd June 2022

Feeling… OK! Bit snotty and snuffly, but easily taken care of with Sudafed. Throat almost completely fine. Things are looking hopeful!

Friday, 3rd June 2022

Spoke too soon! Easily the worst night's sleep I've ever had. My coughing woke me up! I've never experienced that before. Also had the unnerving experience of waking soaked in sweat - like sodden through the sheets. Eugh!

But the day was better. I was able to do some light DIY (yay bank holidays).

Saturday, 4th June 2022

Woke up feeling great. A bit coughy, but nothing too bad. As instructed, we took LFTs. Usually, you have to wait 30 minutes for a result - within 30 seconds a thick red line had emerged!

Friday, 11th June 2022

Went back to the experimental centre. Had a swab test, but no bloods taken - which I thought was a bit weird. My blood pressure and O2 saturation were both normal. So, with a clean bill of health I was released back into the wild.

After 30 months of basically not getting ill, this was a deeply weird experience. I can't say I cared for it - but it was a lot milder than I was expecting. With a bunch of home-delivery apps and a load of trashy TV, it wasn't the worst way to spend a week and a bit.

Tuesday, 19th October 2022

Another visit to the clinic. The week before, I got paid the £28 for getting this far through the study. Not exactly danger-money, but it pays for a pizza.

Despite the desperate need for blood donations, I'm still banned from bleeding into a bag.

Had to sign another consent form for unblinding me if I get offered a booster jab. That'll update my medical records and let the NHS know which variant I now need.

Sunday, 1st January 2023

Spent all of Xmas in Malaysia and New Zealand. Something like 72 hours of flying all told. Stayed masked for the majority of it - although most passengers weren't. Survived without catching anything, despite the rising levels.

Thursday, 13th April 2023

...and done! Last lot of bloods taken. Last nasal swab (for science purposes). Last time being "Experimental Subject #74123". Uneventful and, dare I say, underwhelming.

She Unblinded Me With Science.

This was a double-blind experiment. Neither I nor my doctors knew whether I'd received the classic booster or the exciting new one.

In my head, I knew that getting either jab was important for science. The control group is vital to monitoring effectiveness. But in my heart, I wanted to be one of the cool kids with the preview of the unreleased new stuff.

As I did manage to contract the lurgy, I assume I was on the old one. I'm not sure exactly when they'll unblind me - but I'm rather looking forward to finding out what jab I got.

Chatting Solar Panels at EMF Camp

@edent — Wed, 06 Jul 2022 11:34:06 +0000

I fucking loved my first visit to #EMFcamp. After two years of lockdown, I was over-excited at the chance to be with all my friends in a field this year. I was over-excited about doing a talk about my beloved solar panels. I was over-excited about sleeping in a goddamned camper-van! I was even - sadly - excited at seeing my name broadcast on TELETEXT!

The universe, of course, had other plans. Striking down both Liz and me with COVID literally the day before we were due to pick up our camper. FUCK YOU UNIVERSE. FUCK YOU COVID!

Thankfully, our symptoms weren't too bad (thanks to some TOP SECRET medical experiments we may or may not be participating in. Shhhh!)

And, even more thankfully, Jonty and his crew of joyful nerds found a way for me to do my presentation. There's this brand new technology called "Zoom". I really think it could be even bigger than ICQ messenger because - get this! - you can send voice and video and slides at the same time. MAGIC!

So I hastily rejigged my slides, gulped down some industrial-strength cough medicine, and said hello to all my new friends.

I asked the tech team to mount my laptop so I could see the smiling faces of anyone who'd entered the tent. It almost worked.

It's always hard presenting to a room where you can't hear people chuckling at your jokes. It's worse when you can't even tell if they're humans or poorly constructed animatronics. But I got a little bit of audience participation going and, overall, it went pretty well, I think:

The wonders of technology! Despite catching Covid, @edent was still able to give his talk about solar panels #EMFCamp

Dan Pope

Really enjoying @edent's Solar Punks Assemble talk at #emfcamp2022 - lots of knowledge and lovely graphs!

Aidan Taylor

Loving @edent’s enthusiasm for solar @emfcamp - great spreading of the word!

Steve Pike

Sadly, it looks like official videos might not appear this year:

But... Because I love you all very much, I did a pre-record just in case the live-stream failed. My brain and throat were slightly addled with Covid when I did the record - so I ask you to bare that in mind. You can watch it for free at:

If you'd like me to natter on about solar in person - buy me a pint first ☺

Vax³💉💉💉

@edent — Sat, 11 Dec 2021 12:34:11 +0000

I am in awe of how simple the booster shot booking process was. I visited the site on my phone while in bed and hungover, typed in my NHS number, confirmed a few details, and it listed a pharmacy a 20 minute walk away as having appointments.

A couple of weeks later and my 2xAZ was supplemented with 0.5x Moderna / SpikeVax. What a cool name - my inner Buffy fan is very happy to have been "Spiked" 🧛

Not quite early enough to be fully boosted for Xmas party season, but there's a limit to how much over-priced half-baked veggie fare I can eat.

As with my previous two jabs, I got them done on Friday afternoon so that I could spend the weekend suffering. I'm sure my work wouldn't have minded me taking some time off to recover, but I know I'd feel guilty about sitting on the sofa while my colleagues cover for me.

I gave blood last week. So I wonder if that means the vaccine is now extra concentrated in my bloodstream and I'll get superimmunity? The nurse administering the jab didn't seem to think so…

I guess the real question now is - how many more? I already had my flu jab a few months ago. Is there a limit to the number of vaccines a person can have? Can we be loaded up with hundreds of mRNA vaccines at once?

I've spent the last two years basically not being ill. Well, other than a brief bout of an upset stomach. No sniffles, no hacking up phlegm, no sore throats, no debilitating headaches. I could get used to this! But I wonder if that will affect my immune system? No lurgy in two years - does that mean the next thing to make it through my mask is going to knock me flat?

I suspect that I'll start going back into the office on a regular basis at some point early in the new year. But, for now, I'm safe in my little bubble - watching the world go by my window.

Vaxed and Waxed

@edent — Sat, 12 Jun 2021 11:42:38 +0000

Nine weeks ago, I got my first does of the AZ vaccine. Yesterday, I received my second.

Despite all the dire warnings of overloaded websites and limited slots, the booking process was boringly anticlimactic. I entered my NHS number, date of birth, postcode - and was then given a choice of locations. I picked one, and was given a range of times. I picked one for a few days hence and my wife - on the computer next to me - picked hers for five minutes later.

Only after booking did we bother to check whether the trains would get us in on time. D'oh! But all was fine.

A trundle to the station, a walk to the pharmacy, a quick check of my details, jab, and home again.

The last vaccination knocked me out for a full day, so we booked for a Friday afternoon. I'm sure I could have taken a few days off from work if I needed - but it isn't like my weekends are full of exciting adventures.

And now what? We're slowly been reintegrating ourselves back into society. A walk through town here, a drink with friends in a park there, even a visit to a local pub. It has been 16 months of lockdown for us.

Should I immediately fill my social calendar with engagements? Spend every waking hour stuffing my senses with pleasure in order to make up for a lost year? No. I think I'll take it slow. Start to see a few local friends. Brave a nice restaurant. Nothing too radical.

To start, I'm going to buy some beard wax to style my hirsute face (what else did you think "waxed" referred to?!?) and start to groom myself into a reasonable facsimile of a normal human being.

But, first, a weekend of feeling like crap and eating comfort food.

Book Review: Quarantine Comix ★★★☆☆

@edent — Fri, 07 May 2021 11:03:48 +0000

It's hard reviewing a comic book like this. A weekly or daily feed of little vignettes of lockdown life regularly raises a chuckle. But it long-form, it doesn't quite work. We already know how the story ends - after a year, you're still in lockdown. You've grown around the belly, but have you grown as a person? No, probably not.

The sketches are cheerful, relatable, and a little heartbreaking in places. You'll probably recognise your own behaviour in more than a couple. And, I guess that's the value in art - holding a mirror up so that we may see ourselves better.

There are some beautiful gems within the book. Mostly drawn with a fairly minimalist aesthetic - which helps the few colour panels really pop.

Perhaps I don't understand how to read a book like this. Taken all in one sitting I found it getting a little repetitive. For dipping in and out of, it's great.

I think - like many works of art created during COVID - this will be of great interest to those looking back on our deeply weird lives.

Thanks to NetGalley for the preview copy. The book is released later this month and can be pre-ordered from the following links:

Predicting The Future - What 1981 Got Wrong

@edent — Sun, 11 Apr 2021 11:18:32 +0000

As part of my MSc, I fell down a research rabbit-hole of 1980s "Office Of THE FUTURE!!" articles. Ultimately, I couldn't find a way to include it in my research - so you're getting my cast offs.

So, I present to you some choice predictions from "Technology and the office of the future" by B. W. Manley.

Low cost computers (VDU) - yup! Data storage - the article talks about storing "the entire contents of the Encyclopaedia Britannica on one side of a disc — words and pictures".

Digital networking! Brilliant! Voice Command! Wait... what?

By 1991 we didn't really have practical voice recognition systems. And certainly nothing that could replace the keyboard. Here we are FORTY YEARS later and most of us are thumping away on keyboards for long-form writing. If we're driving, we can scream "CALL MUM" and Siri will probably get it right. And there's the occasional use of voice recognition to compose a quick text. But we're not in 1981's future yet.

What about video? Sadly, too expensive and not useful enough.

After a year of COVID, I think we can all agree that Zoom has encouraged more meetings than are strictly necessary!

The humble FAX was about to become the big tech of the 1980s. Sadly, some places are still stuck with it - despite the obvious limitations.

What have we learned today?

Predicting the future is hard. Saying that something will always be too expensive is never a good bet.

Knowing that a technology has serious shortcomings - like not being able to search a fax - is irrelevant when it is simply a more convenient version of the existing paradigm.

Unintended consequences are the most exciting part of any technology. We don't use voice control in a noisy, open plan office - but we use it at home. Videocalls do increase the number of meetings - as predicted - but they also do slash travel budgets.

What's your favourite prediction from the 1980s?

Weeknotes: Vaccinated - Part 1

@edent — Fri, 09 Apr 2021 11:45:02 +0000

I know exactly what I was doing on 9th April 2020. I was worrying about open-sourcing the NHS Covid Tracing app. I was worrying about tech standards for booking test slots. I was worrying if I'd ever see my family and friends again. I was worrying if the NHS websites would contain enough semantic HTML to be useful. I was worrying if the security of 3rd party sites was up to snuff. I was worrying about the Inevitable Pubic Inquiry. I was worrying worrying worrying late into the night.

I know exactly what I was doing on 9th April 2021. Shortly after midday, a lovely NHS worker jabbed me in the arm, and filled my veins with an efficacious cocktail of... Well, let's just agree to call it magic, eh?

Sure, there will be a few days of feeling rough. And there's a few weeks until immunity kicks in. And a few months until the second dose. And a few more until we can all go to the pub and toast our missing friends.

But, for the first time in over a year, I can feel my worry easing.

Is it stealing to read by the light of your neighbour's candle? Or, should companies pay for employees' broadband?

@edent — Sun, 14 Mar 2021 12:48:58 +0000

Back when I worked for an ISP, my employer paid for me to have broadband. I was expected to work from home a few days a month and they needed their workers to have high-bandwidth connectivity. Because it was a business expense, we all received BIG SCARY WARNINGS that the broadband was only to be used for work. Absolutely no domestic use allowed.

*nudge nudge wink wink*

Of course, everyone ignored that directive and used it for web-surfing after-hours.

Was that theft? Our employer paid the same amount whether we used it for a few emails during the day or for all-night Xbox sessions. Our extra-curricular use didn't cost the business any money. There may have been some tax implications for receiving a Benefit-In-Kind, but how do you apportion usage of a service?

Whatever the future brings, I think it's clear that lots of office workers are going to be working from home a few days a week now. So should your employer pay for broadband? If so, are you allowed to use it for non-work purposes?

It got me thinking about all the costs I already have to personally bear when working.

Commuting. The big one! £3,000ish per year. Most large employers offer a loan to help offset the cost.
Home office costs. Buying or renting a place with enough space to have an office is a significant expense.
Clothing. I've worked jobs where I had to buy the uniform. While I wouldn't usually turn up to work naked, I occasionally have to buy smart-looking clothes.
Lunch. Sure, I could pack sandwiches - but they're yucky after an hour-long commute. So I buy something overpriced from a local shop.
Beer. No, it isn't mandatory to go to after-work drinks. But you want to be a team player, don't you?

I'm sure you can add your own examples.

In the UK, top price broadband maxes out at about £50 per month. I don't think that's a huge expense for a business - especially if they're saving on office costs.

Or, am I expected to pay for broadband myself in the same way that I'm expected to own a suit, tie, and sensible shoes?

If not, is it OK to use my work-provided broadband for watching Netflix?

A few years ago, someone was arrested for allegedly using someone else's unsecured WiFi. Is that theft?

"It is a bit like reading your book from the light coming out from someone's window"

Julian Baggini, Philosopher BBC News (2007)

My wife has written about this from a philosophical perspective - you should go read her eloquent take on the issue.

These are no longer "unprecedented times"

@edent — Fri, 12 Mar 2021 12:34:48 +0000

It has been a full calendar year since my office sent me home for the last time. A few weeks later, lockdown was announced.

For years, the biggest lie from customer service call centres was "Your call is important to us!"

Then, a few years ago, it became "Due to unusually high call volumes, it may take longer than usual to answer your call."

Now, it is "Due to the unprecedented situation, please bear with us while we try to answer your call."

Well, no. It has been a year. I totally get that the first few months of trying to get people working from home successfully were a chore. And lots of your staff may be off sick. But if you haven't managed to adapt by now, then I don't know what hope there is for your organisation in the future.

The only certainty is change. The next thing to disrupt you might be a pandemic, or a meteor hit, or something commonplace like a flood or fire.

About 8 years ago, I helped my office prepare for a "Disaster Day" - like an unannounced fire-drill. We ran an exercise where at 6AM one morning, we declared an on-site emergency and shut the office. How many staff members turned up for work because the information hadn't been cascaded to them? How much work wasn't able to be done because a crucial file was left on a desk? Which teams were unable to spend a day on a VPN?

The conclusions were dispiriting. Some teams thrived - others were unable to do a day's work without access to post-it notes. It highlighted where the problems were and suggested some solutions.

Anecdotally, that company did better than some of its competitors during the early stages of the pandemic. The disruption was prepared for.

But it is hard. It is so hard. We're all living with unimaginable pain and sadness. But through adversity to the stars. We have to get used to constant turmoil. The book Antifragile makes a compelling case that the only companies which survive are those which are strengthened from volatility.

It has been a year. Things are going to get better - but that should just give us more time to prepare for the next disruption.

I only know you from above the shoulders

@edent — Wed, 20 Jan 2021 12:35:48 +0000

One of my lovely colleagues made an small speech during a recent meeting. She was delighted to announce that she was heading off on maternity leave next month and looked forward to seeing us all next year once the pandemic was over.

There were the usual round of congratulations and how-will-we-cope-without-yous. But a few of us were left a little blindsided. For the last 10 months, we've only seen each other through the lens of a video conference. And, while some people's call etiquette can be a bit lacklustre, I only know the majority of my colleagues from the shoulders upwards.

In a traditional office, it would usually be fairly obvious when someone is pregnant. Even though it's impolite to ask, diaries get booked out with antenatal appointments and people begin mentally working out how parental-leave cover will be arranged.

Obviously her manager and close friends knew. And I'm certainly not complaining that I was kept out of the loop. But it's a curious and unexpected facet of working from home.

It is (probably) a good thing from a privacy and equality point of view. No one is going to refuse to give work to the expectant if they don't know you're expecting.

I work with someone who uses a wheelchair - but I bet people who've only met them online don't realise that. Does that change how people approach them at work?

What else is Zoom covering up? Perhaps a colleague is hiding their Fight Club bruises by never switching video on? I wear wrist braces when typing - a fact that goes unnoticed by most nowadays. No one is commenting on how much weight you put on over Xmas, or whether your trousers are out of fashion.

As Sharon O'Dea says - everyone is the same height on a video call!

The promise of the Internet - and of VR - was that you were free to create your own identity. Unsullied by your mere corporeal form. Unlimited by your physical limitations. Judged only by the content of your content.

COVID19 isn't the great equaliser - it has exposed many shortcomings in society. But there are little bright spots. People who were excluded from a traditional office are now more able to work with their peers. Our bodies are more private - and some of our presumed-restrictions less noticeable.

Don't think of it as Working From Home - Think of it as Extreme Hotdesking!!

@edent — Wed, 06 Jan 2021 12:44:24 +0000

I once drove my company car to my company's office and then drove around the company car park for 20 minutes looking in vain for a parking space. Whereupon I double-parked across a couple of cars, flipped on my hazard lights, and dialled in to my Very Important Meeting.

Half-an-hour later, I drove home to think about my life choices. I then started looking for a new job.

From the moment I entered the workforce back in the early 2000s, I've been in open-plan offices with a mandatory hot-desk policy. That means every morning you have to wander around with your laptop, looking for a desk near your team-mates. I get it - I really do - office space is finite and not everyone is in every day. So only having desks for 80% of employee is perfectly rational.

But humans are not rational. In every office that I've been in, people choose the same desk again and again. They stick up photos of loved ones, adjust the chair to their liking, set monitor brightness to be comfortable, and know where to find their team-mates. Humans like a bit of predictability in their work day. And no-one wants to start the day stressing about finding a seat.

I opted-out of hotdesking fairly quickly. Due to RSI, I require a special keyboard and mouse. I placed them on my desk and left a note saying "if I'm not in, feel free to use this desk, but please don't mess with my accessibility equipment."

That mostly worked. Mostly.

And now we're in an era when office workers don't need to go into an office. It's coming up to a year of enforced WFH for me. And... it's mostly fine. Mostly.

My employer has generously paid for a desk, monitor, and chair. It'd be nice if they also paid for my broadband - but I'm not churlish enough to get grumpy over it. I don't start every day panicking over whether I'm going to get a seat, or find a parking space. I appreciate that I'm privileged enough to have enough space at home to work, and a decent employer.

I'd be happy to physically meet up with my team a few times a year. Maybe even as often as monthly.

The big trick is going to be convincing various levels of managers that this is a good thing. Hence my proposal. It's no longer "Work From Home"; we're rebranding it to "EXTREME HOTDESKING!!"

Yes, the two exclamation marks are mandatory.

N.B. The earliest reference I can find is this from Linsey Chrisman:

With these notable follow-ups:

You have no idea of the changes which are coming

@edent — Sun, 20 Sep 2020 11:22:54 +0000

I wrote this before the pandemic. I chickened out of publishing it because I was working for NHSX at the time. Some of these things have come to pass. Some are yet to come.

I'll never forget the look of horror on my professor's face when I told him I didn't think his university course was good value for money.

I was in the first cohort of UK students paying tuition fees. A massive £1,000 per year. A group of us had gathered to complain about the poor quality teaching materials on a specific course, the lack of contact hours, and decrepit facilities.

Value for money and - by extension - user choice, was an alien concept in undergraduate education. We weren't humbled by wise old men - we were paying a significant sum of money for a resource.

I went back to my old university a few years ago. The crappy computer labs have been upgraded, lecturers seem more engaged with students - rather than treating them as a distraction from research, and the students are more confident in demanding what they need.

A large part of this is because prospective students aren't choosing a course based on which campus has the cheapest beer any more. They're on social media talking to existing students, they're looking up the salaries of graduates, they're investigating the ratings of professors. If you were paying £9k, wouldn't you do the same?

That conversation was 20 years ago. Fuck. I'm old.

But the same conversation has been and gone with swapping energy providers. I was bemused when we moved into our new house to discover that the previous owners were stuck on the most expensive tariff from a company which took 30 minutes to answer the phone. Sure, not everyone cares about switching to the best deal, but within 15 minutes I saved £100s and swapped to somewhere with better customer service.

Like millions of people in the last few years, I've fired my phone provider. I recently told my bank to improve their services or I'd switch to one of those fancy app-only banks.

Nearly every service in the UK has undergone a radical transformation due to digital disruption. Users' expectations have been raised for quality and value for money.

Now the same transformation is coming for healthcare.

My local village pharmacy was crap. They were slow, inefficient, never answered the phone, and were downright rude. OK, their prices for an NHS prescription were identical to every other pharmacy - but I didn't feel like their service represented value for money.

I could have taken a bus to the nearest town and got my drugs from there - I'm lucky to have the mobility and money to do so. Instead, I swapped to an app-only pharmacy.

Echo post out my meds with no delivery charge. They send me reminders when they reckon I'm running low. If I'm away from home, they'll deliver to me. They don't shout out in a crowded shop "MR EDEN? YOUR EMBARRASSING OINTMENT IS READY!"

All I needed was a smartphone and an Internet connection.

I appreciate not everyone has these things. And not everyone trusts online services. That's fine. But most adults do. And there will suddenly be a tectonic shift when people realise that there is a better way of doing things.

The same is true of a regular GP visit. Do I want to sit on an uncomfortable chair, surrounded by ill people, waiting for hours because the previous appointments have been delayed? I might not be able to physically reach a different practice - even if their chairs are comfier - but I can swap to an online GP.

OK, a video chat isn't going to take my blood-pressure or hear my heartbeat - but it is great for a whole range of appointments. And if I don't want to look a doctor in the eye - due to anxiety, embarrassment, or even just time constraints - I can text chat.

I think every GP should have the best equipment, the fanciest chairs, the politest and least-stressed staff, super-fast computers, and plentiful appointments. They should all have amazing pharmacists who are discreet and caring.

But I'd still switch to something which was more convenient to me, better met my needs, and gave me an experience which I thought was higher quality. I suspect many people would.

This is the change that's coming. And it reveals some interesting questions:

What happens to a GP surgery when the built-in pharmacy doesn't have enough customers to stay profitable?
If "simple" consultations are replaced with video-chat / triage, does that leave more resources for others?
Do certain GPs want to work in an area with low / no digital take-up?
How many patients care about seeing the same doctor each time? Is that easier or harder via digital technologies?
We used to have doctors which made house-calls. Now they can do so virtually, what new skills do they need?

And, the big one:

What user needs are unfulfilled?

Ten years ago, no one wanted an app-only bank. The world has changed. And that change is coming for you!

All the jobs I failed to get

@edent — Fri, 18 Sep 2020 11:05:29 +0000

A few years ago, Johannes Haushofer published a CV of failures. In it, he lists all the grants he wasn't awarded, positions he didn't get, papers rejected.

I think that people need to be more open about failure. None of us are perfect - despite what our social media presence says - and all of us suffer rejection. But, by being open and honest about it, we make it easier for others to realise that they're not alone.

In that spirit - here, in no particular order, are the recent jobs which I failed to get. I've lightly edited most of the employer details.

Bit of a long shot. Role was based in the USA and I'm not. But everyone is remote now, right? I thought I was an excellent match for the job spec, and I was genuinely eager to help them improve.

Perhaps I've been too snarky about them on Twitter, or perhaps my CV wasn't as enthusiastically American enough - but didn't even get to interview stage.

CTO - Large Government Department and Small Government Department

This is the sort of role that I think I want in the future. I didn't get an interview for either of these. But the process of applying was extremely instructive. I chatted with some of the team members and recruiting manager, found out more about what the job was likely to entail by speaking to people who did similar roles, and some friends sent me their own CVs to review.

Again, I didn't get interviews. But, I wasn't expecting to. Part of the application is letting recruiting teams know that's the track I'm on so - hopefully - they consider me when I'm closer to the goal.

Deputy Director - Small Government Department

An immediate rejection! But, crucially, with excellent feedback. They wanted someone with more financial / Treasury experience. Not much I can do about that, and good to know where I might be lacking.

More importantly, it came with an offer to discuss future opportunities. Some of the best people I've hired have applied for one job, but have then been asked to apply for another. Putting your CV in front of decision makers is always a good idea.

Deputy Head - Fairly New Government Department

If I'm honest, this was a bit of a dream job. It sounded like a lot of technical fun in an interesting growth area.

The interview panel asked me to prepare a 5 minute presentation on a specific subject. So, of course, I panicked and spent far too long on that and not enough time reading up about the department and their priorities.

I thought the interview went well. I've sat on the other side of the table enough times to know when a candidate is bombing.

Of course, afterwards I realised all the stupid mistakes I made. I misunderstood one of the questions and had to be course-corrected. I thought one of the panellists was someone else. I gave a crappy, rambling example when asked a simple question.

I waited patiently, then got this response.

You have reached the required standard, but we are unable to offer you a job immediately. We have placed you on a reserve list from which future appointments may be made.

Well! OK! I'm aiming at the right level but someone pipped me to the post. That's slightly annoying - but shows I'm on the right track.

Deputy Director for Technology - Internationally focussed Department

BZZZT nothing. I stressed my extensive international experience, and my work with startups and large corporates. With no feedback to go on, I'm not sure what I was missing. Oh well!

Deputy Director for Telecoms Policy - Take a Wild Guess!

I had mixed feelings about this one. I spent a decade working in the mobile industry on 3G and 4G deployment issues. Did I really want to go back to that world for 5G stuff? On the other hand, wouldn't it be good to have someone with practical experience in the role? Or is that too "poacher turned gamekeeper"?

I contacted the hiring manager beforehand to get a sense of what they were looking for. They tried to set up a call, but there was never a convenient time. Either I should have been a bit more proactive and persistent - or they already knew who they wanted to hire.

I thought my CV showed the right mix of telco and government experience. But, the panel didn't agree! Immediate rejection. I'd love to know what I should have done differently.

I appreciate they have hundreds of applicants, but it's hard to improve without feedback.

Deputy Director (Opportunities Across Government)

This was a "general call" to recruit Senior Civil Servants. I was expecting the competition to be fierce, and it sounds like they got a tonne of applicants. So they whittled them down with the dreaded online aptitude tests!

The verbal reasoning tests were so interesting. The tests are adaptive - changing their difficultly depending on how you do. By the end, I was being asked really tough questions. So I think I did OK - but I felt like I was answering "the data are ambiguous" too often. Maybe that's what they want?

The maths test were much more fun to do than the verbal tests. Lots of data manipulation. Again, I second-guessed myself for lots of the answers. I hate taking exams - and this reinforced that hatred.

A few weeks later, I got the "I regret to inform you" email. Interestingly, they gave me my test results back:

Numerical Reasoning test

Your score was 84%, meaning that you scored better than 84 percent of other SCS applicants who completed the test.

Verbal Reasoning test

Your score was 95%, meaning that you scored better than 95 percent of other SCS applicants who completed the test.

How about that! My self-assessment was back-to-front. I'm rather happy with those scores - although I obviously need to practice my maths more. I can't help wondering if they only wanted the top 1%, or whether it was something else in my application which turned them off.

Like The Murphys

Although it's slightly cathartic talking about this publicly, I'm not bitter about my experiences. In some cases, the role wasn't right for me. And, in others, I wasn't right for the role. I've recruited enough people to know that there's nothing a candidate can do if there are hundreds of CVs to review and theirs just doesn't hit the right keywords. And I've interviewed enough people to know that sometimes one candidate just shines.

Spending several weeks searching and applying for jobs is stressful. And I'm glad that I'm doing it from a position of employment.

Every person you admire, every person that you think is a success, is standing on a towering pile of rejection letters.

So, what have you failed at this week?

Forced into the FIRE

@edent — Fri, 11 Sep 2020 11:37:25 +0000

I'm an ambivalent convert to FIRE - Financial Independence Retire Early.

The basic gist is:

Minimise your expenditure,
Save 20x your annual expenditure,
Retire early while maintaining the same lifestyle.

That's it. There are a lot of crappy books about FIRE, but the concept is simple.

So I try to spend a little less, and I try to save a little more, and I dream about stopping work while I'm still young enough to enjoy it.

Of course, human psychology and habits are less simple. It is so tempting to buy a sandwich from Pret rather than take your own lunch. Sure, let's go to the pub after work and buy drinks which are cheaper at the supermarket. A holiday in the sun - why not?!

All those things increase your monthly expenditure. They chip away at your savings. And they increase your quality of life.

Now many of us have had a few-hundred days of being confined to home, and with the imminent threat of economic doom, we've been forced into a FIRE lifestyle.

(Yes, I know some people are getting takeaways every day, and spending hundred on videogames or office furniture. And others are being thrown into poverty.)

We've had a brief glimpse at what everyone doing FIRE would look like for the economy. No more sandwich shops, or travel agents, or quirky boutiques.

And we've had a brief glimpse at what our lives would be like stripped back to the minimum. No fancy food, no going anywhere you can't walk to, no meeting friends for a cheeky pint.

I'll be honest. It's not amazing, is it?

Could you survive stuck at home forever? Sure. Many people have it worse. And modern technology means that the world can come to you.

After a while, I daresay we'll all be Stockholm-Syndrome'd into believing that this is the life we want.

I don't think there's anything wrong with the FIRE philosophy. And I don't judge anyone for wanting to pare their spending back. But I worry that artificially forcing people into it will backfire. People will conflate the misery of the pandemic with the misery of not spending money, and we'll see an explosion of spending - and consequent lifestyle inflation - if this pandemic ever subsides.

Giving up on phone contracts

@edent — Tue, 25 Aug 2020 11:24:20 +0000

Another weird economic casualty of COVID19. I'm not wearing out my socks and shoes. I cancelled my train season ticket. And now, I'm giving up my mobile contract.

For a decade, I worked in the mobile industry - and always had an unlimited SIM card. Rejoining the real world, some years ago, was a bit of a shock to the system. You mean people have to pay for phone calls?!?

The pandemic has everyone reassessing their finances, right? Do I need that beer-of-the-month subscription? Should I move to a lower cost brand of cornflakes? Can I get rid of my mobile bill entirely?

I pay a hefty amount for 300Mbps broadband at home and, for the last few hundred days, I've not really walked further away than my WiFi signal can reach.

All my friends and family are on Signal, WhatsApp, Telegram, and some cool app you've not heard of yet.

Work calls are all Meet, Zoom, and Skype (Remember Skype?!).

Most customer service call centres are desperate for users to move to online channels of support. And I don't fancy spending half my day on hold to crappy Muzzak.

So I cancelled my phone contract and went to PAYG on GiffGaff.

This is my usage for the last month.

Fun fact! One of those text messages was me accidentally replying to a 2FA code.

No, thank you Android!!!!

It turns out, I don't need to make a whole lot of telephone calls on my telephone.

So, I have a fiver of PAYG credit which is very slowly leaching away. When life returns to normal (when????) I wonder if I'll revert back to paying a tonne of money for data? All my usual haunts have decent WiFi, and I can always pony up for a few GB if I'm desperate.

Anyway, you can get £5 extra credit when you switch to GiffGaff using my link http://www.giffgaff.com/orders/affiliate/edent.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name (and other metadata)

@edent — Fri, 07 Aug 2020 11:54:31 +0000

I've made no secret of rather enjoying this enforced period of remote work. Sure, it has had its challenges - but there have been so many fringe benefits. Less commuting! No crappy-canteen lunches! More time to sleep in!

And, today, I was reminded of another benefit. I am terrible at remembering names. Many a time someone has bumbled up to me in a corridor, asked my opinion on something, and I've said "could you email me and I'll send you more detail" because I didn't want the mortifying experience of saying "I know I know you, but I don't really know your name. Is it... Dave...?"

I used to joke that it would be really helpful if everyone I worked with wore a prominent name badge. And now, thanks to endless video calls, they do!

Image via @OneTeamGov

Most services - like Zoom, Skype, and Hangouts - let users enter free-text. And the general convention around my peers is to use:

Name (Department)

Name (Organisation)

Name (Pronouns)

So, at a glance, I can see Abdul from Accounting, Barbara from the BBC, and Chris (She/Her) are in the meeting.

Some people put little emoji flags to signify which country they're in, or which languages they speak. I'm sure you've noticed a dozen other little things people are doing in a similar vein.

When people are late to meetings, we don't need to do the usual rigmarole of going round the table again to reintroduce people. The metadata is available for all to see.

I'm sure the novelty will wear off. And I'm sure that it's open to abuse. And that it doesn't work for everyone.

But, for now, I have much less anxiety in meetings. And that's nice.