Just do it

“There may be some writers who contemplate a day’s work without dread, but I don’t know them. … It’s a bad business, this writing.” (Mary Gordon, American writer)

 

I am suffering (again) from what is usually called “writer’s block”. I have things I have to write and I just can’t settle to doing them.

Writer’s block is notorious; it’s a favourite subject for novelists, in a rather incestuous way. It’s a specific example of procrastination – putting off until later what you should be doing now. There are whole shop-loads of books on writer’s block specifically (which I find rather paradoxical) and procrastination generally. I have read them all very carefully and learned nothing whatsoever useful from them. Examples of the advice can be found here, here, and here. Enjoy.

Essentially they all come down to the advice “stop messing around and just do it; just make a start, no matter how small”. Well, if I could do that I wouldn’t be procrastinating. They are also keen on eliminating distractions, but when you’re severely proscratinating, after you have eliminated all the obvious ones, you will create new ones.

Now at this point I know what some of you are thinking. The kinder among you will say we know about procrastination; the only solution is indeed to make a start and just get on with it. He’s said he knows that, so why can’t he do it? Surely he could bring himself to write a word, even a little rubbish one? The less kind will say what is he talking about – he can write this blog, so why can’t he write his book? Shut up moaning. You will have no sympathy with me, you say, while you get on with writing your thirty-six volume autobiography.

On the other hand I have discovered in writing this blog that there are many people out there who are a little like me, but are too frightened to say so. Some of you, sadly for you, are even a lot like me, and are terrified to say so. Procrastination is very common. After many years teaching I know countless students who have left things to the last minute – they only start that essay or report the night before the deadline; sometimes well into the night. They know their behaviour is bad, just as I do, so I really do share their pain. They know that at best it will be a bit rushed and that they won’t have time to put it aside and think about it and check it, that they will make mistakes and miss sources, thereby most likely losing precious marks, and at worst they’ll miss the deadline altogether and get zero. So why do they do it? It’s not helpful to say that it’s because of bad planning and laziness when it happens so often; it’s not helpful to say we should just have done it.

As I have said before, we should also be wary of pathologising everything. Am I being slow because I’m ill, or is it something less sinister? Am I just very, very lazy, or is something more complicated going on? A very few people really just don’t care about what they’re doing, but most of us do, so I think when something happens repeatedly it is at least worthwhile considering possible deeper causes. Looking deep into myself I see:

 

Fear of a deadline. After twelve years of being head of the psychology department at Dundee and then dean, I am exhausted. I still have nightmares about writing reviews and reports and plans and strategies and completing financial spreadsheets, and being sent emails at 5.01 p.m. Friday asking for something FIRST THING Monday, before the 8.30 meeting. Burnout need not be restricted to middle-aged executives: the average undergraduate will now have undergone years of assessment, even before the GCSEs and GCES (or Higher equivalents in Scotland). It’s assessment after assessment – one damned thing after another, for years. Until you can’t take it more.

Milder versions of exhaustion abound. Many studies show that many of us are on the edge of exhaustion, or simply don’t get enough sleep. A period of prolonged rest might be best but not many can take it easy for more than a weekend. So I don’t know what the best way is to cope with deadline fear, and welcome suggestions. However I have resolved to try to deal with the exhaustion and the following might help. I hope that with more energy the fear will recede.

Sleep – I have vowed to sleep whenever possible. I have long thought too much sleep to be a waste of time (we know that some sleep is essential), but what is “too much”? What is the point of forcing yourself to get up 30 minutes earlier if you then only function at 75% efficiency?

Multi-tasking – doing two or more things at once is not effective. I found myself making tea this morning while trying to pack a bag. Not good. I need more mindfulness in my life.

Saying no – partly I commit to annoying little jobs that then have to be done, and which I like to get out of the way before the big jobs. I find it quite difficult to say no when I see the hurt on a person’s face, but I must learn to get over it.

Stop rushing around – leave plenty of time for things. The possibility of saving three minutes by leaving just a bit later for the gym is outweighed by the damage perpetrated by the additional stress of the journey.

Relaxation – I can distinguish between physical and mental exhaustion, although I find they are correlated. The brain uses a lot of energy, and many argue that glucose levels in the brain can be rapidly depleted – so that we have limited willpower, although controversy rages about this subject (see here and here, for example).

Doing if for myself – My fear of a deadline goes hand in hand with being evaluated afterwards. If you don’t hand something in, you can’t get a poor mark, or unpleasant feedback, can you? It’s bizarre reasoning I know but I am falling foul of it. I find that I become lost in things that I enjoy and that aren’t going to be evaluated, so one strategy is to try to turn evaluated things into things we’re really doing for ourselves. We’re doing it to learn, or to write our great life’s work (in my case), and the deadlines and feedback are things on the side – things that might even help us, by ensuring progress and making it a better work. We call this type of approach recasting our thinking. I don’t find it easy: to make it work we have to make ourselves believe it, deep down.

What else is there?

The job is too difficult. I missed this out of the “first edition” of the post, but I don’t know why: the more I think about it, the more important it is. It’s easy to get going on small jobs where you know what you have to do, but much of good writing isn’t like that. Writing a whole book on the science of consciousness, in my case, isn’t easy; the material is complex, difficult to understand in places, and even more difficult to synthesise and evaluate for a reader who hasn’t spent more than thirty years in the area. Sometimes I start work, look at my screen, and I don’t know what to say. Students might start writing a lab report and realise they don’t have a clue about the statistic used or the design of the experiment. No wonder we put our laptops aside and make a nice cup of tea.

Somehow we have to make difficult tasks easier. It’s difficult to do the research and thinking while looking at the screen trying to write the final document, I find, so that means it has to be done before. That means reading multiple sources about a topic, and perhaps making notes, drawing diagrans, even mind maps if that’s your thing; and thinking and organising. All that takes time. I can write a thousand words in an hour, easily, if I know exactly what I’m talking about, am enjoying myself, and have a modicum of focus. If I don’t know (as is usually the case), or have to remind myself, that rate plummets. If you leave your writing to the last minute, so you’re up against the deadline, there often just isn’t enough time. No wonder we procrastinate when facing the impossible!

If you’re doing something difficult and you’re up against a real deadline, you’re a bit screwed. You just have to learn the lesson and resolve to leave research time for the next deadline – plenty of it. Fortunately (although it might be a curse) many writing deadlines are in fact a bit flexible, so if you’re a little late it’s not the end of the world. It’s not good form though so again lessons have to be learned.

Doing research with plenty of time left seems less intimidating to me; all I have to do is convince myself that the pleasant reading in the conservatory really is work. You do though need to be clear about you’re researching and why, which means planning what you have to do and finding out what you don’t know first. You need to read for a purpose, trying to answer a question, and to do that you need to be clear about what the question is first.

The job is unpleasant. Then one has to ask why are you doing it? Let’s think about what “unpleasant” really means. You might be doing a psychology agree, and enjoy it all apart from statistics. In that case if you think the overall aim is worthwhile you have to contextualise the problem – relate the subtask to the whole. You can’t understand behaviour without understanding how we should study behaviour. I think mostly though we confound the unpleasantess of jobs with their difficulty – I don’t really think that writing a book on consciousness is an unpleasant task, I’m just finding passages of it difficult at the moment. Students would enjoy statistics if they found it relatively easy. In which case see above.

Perfectionism. I can’t bear the thought of seeing something with my name on it that isn’t perfect. But the first draft doesn’t have to be perfect; in fact unless you are peculiarly gifted the first draft will be far from perfect. You are more likely to produce something imperfect by leaving it late and little time for checking and revision. And the first draft might be rubbish, but it’s easier to turn a thousand words of rubbish into something better than start with no words at all.

Too big a task. This is an important factor in my fear, and of course is easily solved by splitting it up into smaller tasks – as small as it takes to stop being daunting. Splitting large jobs up and listing the components takes time, and there’s always a concern that you’re wasting useful time carrying out useless tasks – that you’re just engaging in just another distraction activity. But spending time working out how you’re going to do a big unpleasant job and then doing these small chunks is much better than doing nothing at all related to your most important job.

Something immediately at hand is more immediately satisfying. Note I’ve said immediately twice: it has to be instant and easy gratification relative to the big job. If you’ve split a big job into lots of little jobs then you can have the instant gratification of ticking them off your list as you complete them. Some people suggest turning off your internet connection, using special software and apps to cut off temporary access to distraction, or smashing your router on the floor, but I will still manage to find something else to do. That washing is piling up, or perhaps needs sorting. Better to deal with the root cause than use gimmicks. (Believe me, I’ve tried them all.)

 

I will try my own medicine and report back. Meanwhile I hope this help ssomeone else. Please feel free to comment or contact me.

 

(Note to readers: I’ve revised this blog a few times as things occur to me. No more. This version is final.)

 

UPDATE

Getting the words out

I’ve been silent because I’ve been busy. I have found that writing my “great work”, The Science of Consciousness, is good for my mental health – although whether I’d be able to write at all without a certain level of mental health is a moot point. Writing gives my life direction and purpose, and structures my day. The amount of work involved makes a mockery of any notion of being “retired”; writing is fulltime job. Consciousness is the most difficult subject I’ve ever written about: to paraphrase the British psychologist Stuart Sutherland “an awful lot has been written on consciousness, mot of it rubbish”; why do I think what I’m writing isn’t rubbish too? I suppose you can only do your best and then just hope. I’m not going to fall into the trap that many psychologists fall into, of equating consciousness with attention, or even just visual attention. I recognise it’s a big, difficult topic.

I have been reflecting about why I have found this writing so enjoyable and so therapeutic. Perhaps it’s obvious, but it’s because I really want to do it. I would probably write it even if I didn’t have a publisher and a contract. The only downside of a contract is often a fairly tough deadline – but if I didn’t have a deadline I almost certainly would work more casually, so it’s an advantage as well as a curse. (And usually the deadline wouldn’t be so bad if only I had started earlier.)

In the odd spare moment that I have, I wonder if my mood would be as good without this purpose. As ever there is circularity: doing stuff makes your mood better, but you have to be well enough to be able to do any stuff in the first place.

Of course in the end I will die (unless I decide to have my head frozen, and even then I expect eventually to die regardless) and eventually my books will go out of print, and I will be forgotten. At this point I envy people with children; they will live on through their genes. As others have observed, our lives are like stones thrown into a pool, causing ripples to spread out. Eventually the ripples fade and it is, for most of us, as though our stone was never thrown into the pool.

When writing a book I try not to think about it too much. I have 150,000 words to deliver before the summer. If I think of it in that way, the task is an enormous one. So I break the task down into 1000 words a day (number of words left divided by number of days left, allowing Sunday off – or rather do those jobs that have accumulated in the week) come what may. I think deciding to miss one day is a slippery slope; of course choosing to miss one day wouldn’t make much difference, but it’s easy for that one day to become two, and before I knew it, a month would have gone, and a 1000 words a day has become 1250. And then there’s reading, researching, and checking. You have to treat it like a job, or any other job I suppose, and just get on with it. I know there’s no point putting off starting to write every day because I know that it has to be done regardless, and starting at 5 pm is much more miserable and difficult than starting at 9 am. I still procrastinate a bit first thing, but I gather many writers do. I think it was Derren Brown who said something like “all self-help books just boil down to – just do it”. If you’re writing a book, writing an essay, or just have to mow the lawn – get on with it now.

Also on the positive side, I have had three outputs this week, and nothing lifts my heart more than seeing my name somewhere.

First, the second edition of my book, Talking the talk: Language, psychology, and science has just been published by Psychology Press. See:

 

 

This book is a gentle introduction to psycholinguistics, the science of how we produce and understand language. I still think the first edition was the best thing I have ever written (so far).

Second, I had a letter in the Daily Telegraph on Tuesday about futurology, robots, AI, and the implications for the economy. I’m a pessimist about these things:

 

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Rather to my surprise, it generated a great deal of interest. There were letters in reply (none of which really addressed the problem, I thought) and offers to write about the subject elsewhere. I think the future is a pretty scary place, and although I would have loved a laptop with fast internet connection when growing up, it could be that I have lived in the best of times – a rather optimistic conclusion for someone as usually as negative as me.

And third, finally, I gave a talk at Durham University on How to be successful in academia, particularly if you’re suffering from mental illness. I’m told it was very successful.

So a good few weeks. Success and achievements lift the spirits – just as you would expect. If you can, do something. But there will be times when you are too depressed to do anything. My advice, based on my experience, is to sit it out. Things will get better eventually, because they always have in the past. I promise.

 

Emptying the mind

It’s been a while since my last blog. Who would have thought that being self-employed would mean being so busy? I have been trying to focus on what’s important: my goals in taking early “retirement” from the full-time job have always been to increase my reading, thinking, and writing time.

But we live in a world of distraction. Distraction makes procrastination very easy. I even know of academics who have been encouraged by their “line managers” (what a repellent phrase) to “multi-task” their administration and research. I’m not sure at what level they’re supposed to multi-task – reading a paper while giving a lecture perhaps? – but we know that multi-tasking reduces efficiency: it just doesn’t work. Doing two things at once has a cost (which is why even speaking on the phone while driving increases the chance of an accident, let alone texting and driving). It also increases stress. And we know that doing important, creative work requires focus – you can’t carry out great research while students back their essays. I even have my doubts about one of those great sacrosanct beliefs in academic life that great teaching and research must go together: good teaching requires time, and research requires time, and you can’t be doing two things at once (see above).

I have tried to simplify my life, for peace of mind both for being mentally ill, and in order to be able to think more clearly. I have just been reading Timothy Ferriss’s excellent (if lengthy) Tools for Titans, and it is obvious that I am not alone in pursuing this strategy. Physical clutter is distracting – some of us even find it distressing. Mental clutter is just as bad, perhaps worse.

And how much mental clutter we all must have! How can you live in the moment when you are worrying about what you did wrong this morning and what you have to do this evening? How can you write well when your mind is on the telephone bill?

So here are some of the things that I’ve done to reduce mental clutter.

  1. Write down as much as possible. First I carried out a brain dump of everything I had to do, everything I was worried about, and everything on my mind. This task took a while, and I kept adding to the dump over a few days.
  2. Make structured lists. Over the years I have experimented with several types of list and time management systems. Now someone with an obsessional personality has to be careful of lists – they can easily take over and become an obsession and a distraction in themselves. I recently tried a complex system of email folders with tasks for doing today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, this week, waiting for, and so on … (I am familiar with Dave Allen’s Getting Things Done system and implement a simplified version of it. I have tried dedicated software but am aiming for a simple solution.)
  3. To do. Currently I am using Apple’s Reminders, with several types of list organised by location and time. I am trying to keep it simple. I have tried complicated systems and apps and remain to be convinced that a to do list can be bettered. The important thing is that nothing gets lost, and that I know everything will be dealt with by the deadline. I don’t want to have to think about peripheral things.
  4. Removing distractions. Social media distracts us and increases mental clutter. I can’t go as far as some and remove myself completely from Facebook and Twitter, and I don’t want to delete all my email accounts (and I don’t think it would be a good idea for future employment possibilities). But I don’t need to check my email every hour. Emails generate emails. I have reached the fabled “Inbox zero”, partly by moving things I can’t do now to an appropriate folder. (Actually as I write it is Inbox 1.) There are some emails I can’t do anything about just now, either because they refer to future events or because I need to do something to be able to answer them – they are moved to a “Waiting” folder. I do feel bad about several emails in my “Weather” folder that I plan to get round to when I have time. These are questions about or suggestions for or things to add to my British weather pages (http://www.trevorharley.com/trevorharley/weather_web_pages/britweather.htm). I do feel a bit bad that people have gone to the trouble of writing to me, and I always thank them, but it’s not my day job, and my time is very limited, so I can’t process them all at once. Recognising that we have limited time is a big part of the fight. WE CAN’T DO EVERYTHING. And that means MAKING CHOICES. (Apologies for shouting these statements.)
  5. Meditation. Everyone says meditation is good for clearing the mind and improving mental focus and clarity. I though with my monkey mind find the process very difficult, and probably as a result find the benefits – so far – limited. I will persevere though. I am using Andy Puddicombe’s Headspace site; I like the structure it provides and the implicit coercion. My jury is still out on meditation.
  6. Mindfulness. At all other times I am trying to be mindful of what I am doing now. If a distracting thought arises I try to push it away or if it is something I need to pay attention to add it to my list. It is easy though for obsessive people to get obsessed with clearing our minds, so we are for ever writing down minor thoughts. We all also occasionally at least need to plan what we’re going to do: living in the present doesn’t imply drifting.

Interestingly, as I was half way through writing this blog, the following landed in my inbox and caught my eye (I know, I know):

http://calnewport.com/blog/2016/12/18/on-digital-minimalism/

Finally, we should think about whether it’s even a good idea to strive for an empty mind. Life isn’t that simple. Things are always cropping up, and surprises are always happening. Rather than avoiding shit we must learn to respond to shit in the right way. The more I think about it, the more important I think this point is: we will never achieve a perfectly empty mind. It’s our responses we need to change.

Have a good Christmas and New Year everyone. It’s a difficult time of year for people with mental health problems – if nothing else it’s so dark in the northern northern hemisphere. So just hang on in there.

I’m mad, but so is BT

My blog on dealing with a typical British industry, BT (British Telecom), their surreal behaviour, and incompetence, and its toll on my mental health.

I’m going to take time out from writing about writing and madness to describe my difficulties with BT (British Telecom, the main telecommunications company in the UK – they provide the lines, but other companies can also provide the calls, which is altogether a rather bizarre situation). It is relevant to my blog though because it’s been such a distraction to me, and has taken up a large amount of time I could have spent much better doing worthier things. The problems have become something of an obsession – I find myself thinking about it a lot of the time, which is never a good sign for someone with mental health problems. At several points I have felt like giving up, but then thought damn it, if not me, whom? I suspect my difficulties in dealing with a big company are not unusual, but most don’t have the time or energy to pursue the culprits.

I think BT is fairly typical of British (perhaps most western) companies (and the public sector, including education) today: it’s too big, it outsources too much, it uses overseas call centres, and generally making it difficult for the individual customer to get anywhere with it. Its online system seems designed to sell, and not much else. The big managers, who make the big money, insulate themselves as much as possible from the customers, or “clients”. They probably have no idea what’s going on, and probably don’t want to.

It all started innocently enough just under year ago when BT phoned me, right out of the blue. Now I will swallow my pride here, and admit that it all serves me right for breaking my vow of never answering the phone to an unknown number, let alone never making a decision during a phone call. But the chap was very persuasive and informative: did I know that BT fibre optic “Infinity” broadband (very fast broadband, up to 80 mbps), was available in my area? I didn’t, and I was pleasantly surprised, because I live in a Scottish village pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so I had been expecting to get super fast broadband sometime around 2269. Furthermore, said this helpful and cheery chap, BT had an offer on, where they would give me BT TV on a special introductory offer for something like £10 a month for the first year. It would save me altogether £30 a month or so compared with what I was paying Sky just then. I was a bit incredulous: you mean I could get Sky Sports and Sky Cinema too? And all my other usual channels? I quite like Sky. They have a good range of channels and everything just works (most of the time). Yes, he said, you will have everything you have now, but it will be £30 a month cheaper. AND you will get UHD (4k) TV? Really? YES! Wow. What about Sky? He said BT would deal with Sky and sort out everything – I wouldn’t have to do anything. So I agreed. Emails detailing the contract were promised and an appointment with the engineer arranged for the near future. And BT would sort out EVERYTHING!

The engineer arrived the next week and set up the fast broadband with a new router and BT TV. Oh no he said, BT won’t sort out Sky TV; who told you that? You’ll have to speak to them yourself. BT would only take over Sky Broadband. But I had never had Sky Broadband – I’d always been with BT! Funny BT didn’t know I was their own customer. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 1. I told the engineer I had never received the email contract, and he said he would have to send it again. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 2.

Eventually he got my admittedly rather sophisticated television working with the set-up. Everything seemed to work and off he went. I started to explore the channels. It turns out there’s hardly anything to watch in UHD. But more importantly, where were Sky Movies and Sky Sports? I only had Freeview channels. Oh you have to order those separately said BT. I THOUGHT I ALREADY HAD. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 3. But to be fair the price was as stated. But what was this, BBC News channel in standard definition? Where is the high definition version? It turns out that Sky beams everything down to you from their little satellite, while BT just sends the special stuff down the line, and picks up the Freeview channel from the air (confused yet?), and in my area I couldn’t get BBC News in HD. No one had explained that to me before. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 4.  Talking of explanations, where was my promised contract? Needless to say, it never arrived. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 5. But the good news was that I now had Sky Sports and Cinema. Or rather, I had Sky Sports 1 and 2, not all the Sky Sports channels, including Sky Sports News. Turns out these aren’t included, and the cinema package was similarly crippled. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 6. And even worse, the channels I did get were only in standard definition, which is nearly as bad as watching black and white. It turns out that BT don’t provide them in HD. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 7. So much for providing every thing I had before with Sky; I consider this PIECES OF BT RUBBISH No. 6 and 7 together to constitute mis-selling. I am tempted to use stronger words. If I had been told this at the start I would have put the phone down after ten seconds. So it was a good job BT hadn’t closed down my Sky contract after all, and that I had kept my Sky Box connected. But instead of having a perfectly satisfactory Sky contract, I now had a perfectly satisfactory Sky contract,  fast internet, and a perfectly unsatisfactory BT contract, and I instead of saving £30 with faster broadband, I am paying £50 more than I thought I would be.

And don’t get me going on the television box. I never did get the knack of the forward and rewind, but this might have been my clumsiness. It did keep on crashing though, which wasn’t me. It’s the software, not the hardware, and it will probably improve with time. I still consider the functionality to be PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 8.

Months passed. I seethed inwardly. I thought about complaining but as my regular readers will know, I was very ill, and had enough on my plate, as my gran would have said. After all, in the great scheme of things I haven’t been left without emergency cover, and I did have fast broadband. And TV. Two TV systems in fact, one though I never used.

But as the bills mounted up I seethed more and more, and then one day, I got a Sky Q box. And it worked just fine. Tidying up the wiring I decided I had had enough, so I packed up the BT TV box. This is crazy, I thought, so I went to the BT site to work out how to make the point that I thought service hadn’t been that great. I also wanted to find out when the BT television contract ended. The only thing I could find on their site was phoning someone up, or an online complaints system. So I filled in the complaint form.

At this point, if they had just said we’re very sorry, there seems to be some misunderstanding, and we’ll let you off your television contract a month early, I’d have been ecstatic. But they didn’t. They didn’t even understand what I was talking about.  PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 9.

From now on things become increasingly surreal. One has to be careful here because it turns out that the BT complaints system is nothing more than a glorified out-sourced call centre, and some people think you can’t criticise call centres based in other countries without being a racist. I have no great objection to call centres as long as they work, but the problem is that usually they don’t. I find I often have difficulty understanding what the person is saying, and they certainly don’t seem to understand me. (I don’t think that’s a racist thing to say, but these days, who knows.) I do feel slightly aggrieved that British Telecom outsources these jobs to non-British people, but that’s globalisation for you. I also feel sorry for the workers in these places: presumably they are poorly paid, crammed into a room, and spend hour after hour having to deal with irate people. No, it’s the senior managers who deserve our wrath.

I remember reading an article in the press by a BT manager saying that their Indian call centre was wonderful but some of their customers were disgustingly rude. There is no excuse for rudeness but I can see why people get so upset. I bet the head of BT doesn’t try to resolve their problems by going through their call centre. I don’t think it’s a sensible way to run a complaints system – and certainly it shouldn’t be the only way. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 10.

So the first response was an email back saying that they were very sorry my equipment wasn’t working, and did I want an engineer to come out?

What? I replied saying that wasn’t the real problem. I hadn’t made myself clear. I repeated about the mis-selling.

They replied saying they’d been trying to phone me …

I replied saying my hearing isn’t that good (particularly with foreign accents on the phone, and in any case I prefer things in writing, so could they please not phone me). I repeated again that the main problem was one of mis-selling, and also cancelling my television contract. They’d told me when it ended, but I could get no one to confirm in writing that they had cancelled it from that date as I had asked. The person said they’d need to transfer me to a different department. What, I thought complaints dealt with things when nothing else worked? PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 11. The other department would email me.

Oh no they didn’t. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 12. A few days later the phone started ringing. Guess who it was? So now I add to my list of issues that they phoned when I asked them not to phone. Guess how they tried to respond to this? You’ve got it. Let’s add poor customer service to the list. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 13.

So someone was meant to write back. And they never did. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 14.

I left it a while and then complained that they had never answered, through their strange complaints system again. The response was as you never CALLED back. What? PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 15. This person gave a lengthy apology in a very tiny font saying that BT values their customers and that people had been spoken to. Don’t they realise how annoying being told this can be when they hadn’t yet done a thing to help? This person said they had revised my complaint and identified that I had issues with BT TV. Yes but not technical issues; they didn’t address at all the point that it did nothing that I had been told it would be, and that it was working out to be more expensive, not less. And you can’t get Sky Movies and Sport HD, I reminded her. Yes you can! she (I think) replied. NO YOU CAN’T I said. Oh no, not in HD, she eventually conceded. And still no one had confirmed that they had cancelled my television contract! PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 15 (and I’m almost tempted to make this double rubbish given they deny themselves).

So I decided to try what seems to be the only thing that works these days: tweeting in the public arena. Again, I feel sorry for the poor individuals who are paid to reply to my rants. But at least they respond!

So then I get a bizarre email saying they are sending out an engineer. I never asked for an engineer! How on earth is an engineer going to sort out mis-selling? Their complaints department seem incapable of understanding what the problem is (another issue I have with overseas call centres). I feel sorry for this engineer. There is no easy way I can see on the email of telling them I can’t be in that time (other than phoning). PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 16.

I email again, and guess how they respond – yes, you’ve got it, by phoning me again. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 17. I admit I get a bit irate at this point. I keep on saying that now I just want the email address of someone to talk to who understands English, but that is clearly too much to ask for with BT. The one easy thing they could they never attempt to do. By this point my blood pressure is soaring, I have dozens of emails not addressing any of my substantive points, the phone is ringing, the Twitter people seem perplexed, I am still paying £50 more than I used to, an engineer is coming out to sort out a non-existent technical problem, and the managers are still drawing their obscene salaries. And I’ve started obsessing about all this so it is really getting to me and not doing my recovery any good at all.

UPDATE: I think I’m getting somewhere with my Twitter campaign. They want me to send them my telephone number. And then a couple of hours later, I get a message back saying … they’re sending an engineer out tomorrow! I wonder about the ability of their complaints staff to read simple English. Or perhaps I don’t write simple English. Or perhaps now they’re just having a laugh. PIECE OF BT RUBBISH No. 18. I despair. I just want somebody sensible to talk to.

The engineer phones to confirm his appointment the evening before. An excellent idea, I explain the situation to him, and tell him not to come. He is very good. BT GOLD STAR!

If anyone can reduce the above to under 140 characters, please let me know. And if any of them are reading this and feel bad enough about themselves to do anything about it, here is a reminder that my email address is trevor.harley@mac.com.

FINAL UPDATE: I emailed the CEO, and his complaints department sorted it out the next day. BT GOLD STAR! But it shouldn’t have been so difficult. I just wanted someone to talk to. After a while the complain took on a life of its own because no one could be bothered to listen properly.