Consumers: Paper Billing

Lord Judge Excerpts

Monday 25th November 2013 Lords Chamber

[Lord Judge (CB)]

My Lords, I had a very nervous, sleepless night last night. When I was at the Bar with a difficult case, appearing in front of a difficult tribunal, I had sleepless nights, too. On those occasions, I used to lull myself to sleep. I would find myself fantasising about scoring 100 in a test match at Lord’s against Australia, before lunch, against Lillee and Thomson without a helmet on. That was an amazing way of relaxing before a difficult day in court. I never got more than 50, because I did not need to; I had fallen fast asleep.

Last night was different. I got my 100 before lunch against Lillee and Thomson and thought to myself, perhaps I am needed in Australia at the moment. Then I scored a hat-trick in the World Cup final—all headed goals—against Germany. Then I scored a winning try against New Zealand down in New Zealand. Then I started batting again in another test match, this time against the West Indies with Roberts, Holding, Marshall and Garner, and I was 75 not out before I fell asleep. This is one of the more nervous occasions for a new speaker.

I begin, however, by saying that I cannot see any reason for being nervous at all. Since my arrival here, I have received nothing but kindness from everyone, without exception. Whenever I have been lost in all these many corridors, someone has found me. If I may say so, the officers of the Lord Convenor of the Cross Benches have been tireless in their patience with me in my anxiety to get this ordeal over. I thank you, my Lords, and through you, all the many people and staff here in the House who have been so kind to me.

I declare my support for the noble Baroness on the issue which I wish to address in relation to the generation—sadly, a passing one—for whom the new world of technology is not something merely to be passed by but, to some, represents something of a nightmare. This is not dealing directly with the matters currently in debate, but how often do they find that disembodied voice from, say, Hyderabad, of huge assistance to them? How often do they find a disembodied Home Counties voice telling them that they must listen and then press one of 10 numbers on their telephone and then, having found their way through to which one it should be, press the appropriate number, then come up with another five numbers which they have to listen to and press? What about the machine that you stick a card into that produces cash, but that you cannot tell has failed to give you the correct amount? What about the necessity of remembering codewords and passwords, when everyone tells you that the one thing you must not do is to write them down anywhere in case someone finds out what they are?

I declare an interest. My mother is 94 years old. Like so many of her generation, she is intrepid. Like so many of them, happily, she values knowledge rather than tricks. New knowledge, she is still interested in—new tricks, not. I suspect that there are many like her. They were well into their 80s when Facebook, Google and Twitter were invented. Can we please all remember that none of those existed only 10 years ago? They were taught, when young, to check their bills and their bank accounts carefully. Indeed, some of us remember our parents receiving the cheques which they had sent. Some of us, I dare say, are old enough even to remember having received the cheques ourselves. For them, a computer is not part of everyday living—not for all of them; of course some are adventurous and wish to enjoy the fruits of modern technology, but some do not. For some, online billing is a meaningless concept and they do not wish to have anything to do with it.

What is the real cost to the utility companies which do not provide paper billing for those individuals? I am ignoring the notional figures. Some expert consultant will tell a company that the cost is vast, enormous or huge. I suggest that the real cost cannot be all that high. There is a postage stamp and a member of staff to press the button on the company computer to produce the goods.

I end by asking, can we, should we not, offer the particular generation on whom I have focused my attention—the sadly but inevitably diminishing generation about whom I have spoken—something just a little more generous than penalising them for failing to keep up with the world as it is?