Boxing Clever?

 

“Potholes!” Archibald announced, laconically.

Josiah Oakshott, who had been in something of a reverie at that moment, jumped at the sudden intrusion into his pleasant thoughts.

“I beg your pardon, Archibald?”

“Potholes” Archibald repeated, “these temporary traffic lights, it’ll be potholes, you mark my words”

“Ah yes, I see.” Josiah nodded, “I suspect that your surmise may well prove to be correct, Archibald.  It has to be said that there has been a need to effect some repairs to the road surface for some time”

“Oh ar, can’t argue with that” Archibald nodded, enthusiastically, “it’s just, they never make a proper job of it, do they?  I mean, they just patch them up with a bit of tarmac and you just know that, in a few weeks, we’ll be back to square one”

“There has been an unfortunate tendency to effect repairs which, whilst welcome, are of a temporary nature, I concur.  It’s box-ticking.”

“Box-ticking?”

“Yes, you see, someone reports a pothole, that generates a box to be ticked, the Council repairs the pothole which ticks the box, the repair fails which generates another box to be ticked but it’s now moved to the back of the queue, and so on and so forth.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, I think” Archibald looked pleased to have triumphed in that particular exchange, “sorry, did I make you jump just now?”

“Yes, you did rather” Josiah blushed, slightly, “I must own to have been somewhat lost in thought”

“Daydreaming is it?” Archibald grinned, “You get narked with me, if I’m away with the fairies!”

“I would not categorise my reverie as ‘daydreaming’, as you put it” Josiah said, sharply, “rather I was employing this period of enforced idleness to consider various matters”

In truth, the ‘various matters’ he was considering largely featured Samantha Knight, sometime Celebrant and Bereavement Counsellor.  His relationship with Ms. Knight, which had always been somewhat tentative and rather formal, had been making definite progress of late.

“Oh ar, these various matters…wouldn’t have nowt to do with Ms. Knight, would they?” Archibald asked, innocently.

“They most certainly would not!” Josiah lied, unconvincingly, whilst blushing deeply.  “As a matter of fact, I was reviewing the Company’s competitive position”

“Is that right?” Archibald asked, one eyebrow raised.

“It is indeed!” Josiah snapped.

“Not a problem, is it?”

“What?”

“What you said, our compet…summat or other?”

“Our competitive position?”

“Yeah, that.  I mean, it’s not as how people aren’t snuffing it no more, is it?”

“You have a lyrical way with words, Archibald” Josiah commented, sarcastically, “no, you are quite correct in saying that the demand for funerals has not, in and of itself, actually reduced in general, however, in the specific, the actuality is somewhat different”

Archibald looked at him blankly.

“I mean to say that, although people, naturally, still require the disposal of their remains at the end of their life, the manner in which that disposal takes place has become open to a variety of competing business models” Josiah explained.

Archibald continued to look at him blankly.

“Alright, look at it this way!”  Josiah sighed, deeply, “when someone died, it was always the case that their family went to their local undertaker, yes?”

“Yeah, course!” Archibald agreed.

“But now there are a range of options available to them, some of which are being marketed quite aggressively.  It is no longer the case that the services of a trained and professional Funeral Director are required.”

“Oh, I get you!” Archibald exclaimed, “you mean like them adverts on the telly in the daytime.  They’re always banging on about how expensive funerals are and how you should take out a policy so as you’ve got enough to bury you and not bankrupt your family, style of thing.”

“Indeed, and whilst there’s nothing inherently wrong in encouraging people to take sensible financial precautions, the continued emphasis on the high and rising (as they would have it) cost of funerals is having a deleterious effect on our business.  People are being made to feel guilty about imposing such costs on their bereaved family, rather than being encouraged to celebrate the deceased’s life in an appropriate manner.”

“You mean, folk don’t want to cough up?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes!” Josiah agreed, “Moreover, there are other business models which eschew the practice of having a funeral altogether.  In essence, they are disaggregating the service that we have always offered.”

“Eh?”

“If you have seen the advertisements for life insurance then you must surely have seen those that offer nothing more than a cremation?”

“Oh yeah, me Nan’s on about having one of those” Archibald grinned.

Josiah looked at him disapprovingly.

“I take it your grandmother is aware of your chosen profession?” He asked, pointedly.

“Yeah, ‘course she is.  Oh, I see what you mean, no offence meant you know”

“And none taken, I’m sure, but you might want to point out to her that your continued employment rests, more than somewhat, on people of her generation partaking of our services.  You might also mention the possibility of a family discount”

“Ah, yeah, I get your drift” Archibald nodded, emphatically, “I’ll put that to her.  What was that disagg-summat you mentioned?”  He asked, changing the subject neatly.

“Disaggregation?  It’s a common practice in new ventures that seek to challenge an established industry, such as ours.  Essentially, you take a situation where a number of services are bundled together for a given price, as in our funeral package, and you strip out the absolutely essential elements and offer those on their own at a competitive rate.”

“So what do these new lot do then?”

“Well, as I understand it, for the low advertised price they usually quote, they arrange to collect the body of the deceased, remove it to their own crematorium, carry out the cremation and dispose of the ashes.”

“Is that it?  No service nor nothing?” Archibald looked shocked.

“For the headline price, yes, that is it.  I quite understand that, for some people, this might be perfectly sufficient but I do think that it rather reduces life, and death for that matter, to a rather detached commercial transaction.”

“Well, of course there are some as would say, you would say that, wouldn’t you?” Archibald suggested, daringly.

“And they would be correct, Archibald.  Naturally, I have a vested interest in the complete service we have to offer.  But I also feel that a life well-lived should be celebrated and that people have a need to mourn their loss in a dignified, traditional and structured manner.  Perhaps I’m old fashioned” Josiah sighed.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Mr. O.” Archibald reassured, “even that bloke in the advert reckons his family would want to celebrate”

“What ‘bloke in the advert’?”

“You must have seen it!  He’s paid for one of these disagg things of yours and he reckons that the money he’s saved means his family can have a party when he’s gone and then he says, summat like, “And my lot KNOW how to party”, then his missus shouts “Bring the drinks, they’re here!” and he goes bombing off clutching one bottle of champagne and another of orange juice…”

“Does he?”  Josiah asked, disinterestedly.

“Yep, and then he tanks into the front room, where there’s about a dozen of ‘em jigging about and doing, which is odd ‘cause there’s no music playing or ‘owt, and they all let out a big cheer when they see him with the drink, which I reckon is a bit odd, ‘cause one bottle of champagne ain’t going to go very far amongst a dozen of them, is it?”

“It does sound somewhat inadequate” Josiah concurred, “clearly I have missed a televisual feast”

“Oh, you can’t miss it, it’s on about six times an hour.  That and this old bloke dancing, on his own in his living room, to Thin Lizzy’s ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’.  It’s ruddy creepy that, if you ask me.”

“Does that have to do with cut-price cremations?”

“I don’t think so, although he looks like he’d be up for it.  No, I think it’s summat to do with hearing aids.  It usually is, that or constipation…and he looks like he might be up for that an’ all.  Probably enjoy it!” Archibald mused.

“Green”

“Nah, he’s a sort of very pale white”

“Not the gentleman in the advertisement, I mean the lights have turned to green!”

“Oh, rightho!” Archibald inched the limousine forward about a car’s length, before stopping again, “well, that didn’t last long, did it?  Any road, what were we on about?”

“Our discussion commenced because I was considering our competitive position”

“Oh ar, that’s it.  Do you reckon we’re in schtuck then, Mr. O.?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, Archibald, whatever ‘schtuck’ might mean.  I think, without a doubt, our business has become more competitive and we can no longer take the continued supply of customers for granted.  Survival may mean a degree of cost-cutting, possibly even mergers to achieve economies of scale.”  Josiah sighed, again, “I think there is a place for our type of business but I think things are going to be considerably tougher than they have been for many a year.”

“So, I could be down the Job Centre then?” Archibald asked, miserably.

“No, not just yet, Archibald” Josiah smiled, “we have a good reputation in the area, strong commercial and traditional links with many extended families and a competitive pricing structure.  All in all, I think we are well placed to survive but we need to be careful.  Watch the pennies and…”

“Tick boxes?”  Archibald suggested.

“Tick boxes?”

“Yeah, we fill the boxes with punters, make a few bob, and you don’t get ticked off!” Archibald chuckled.

“Very risible, Archibald” Josiah grimaced, “the lights have changed again”

“Rightho, Mr. O.”