We are already half way through this series of Doctor Who and I am quite enjoying the new, longer-format, two part serials. The last two were more of an “unconventional” two part story in that the episodes are linked but exist as separate stories on their own. They were two that I had been particularly looking forward to due to their writers: Jamie Mathieson who wrote my favourite two episodes from last year, Mummy on the Orient Express and Flatline; and Catherine Tregenna who wrote some of the best stories for the spin-off series Torchwood including Out Of Time which was possibly my favourite single episode from that, admittedly, hit-and-miss series.
The first part of the story, The Girl Who Died, was probably not exactly what I was expecting as it turned out to be one of Doctor Who’s “romp” adventures: high on humour and slapstick action but, for the most part, rather light on plotline. Some reviewers likened it to last year’s Robot of Sherwood which I can see to a point but whilst that one felt like it was written with Matt Smith in mind this was definitely done for Capaldi’s Doctor with his irreverent humour and (now rather more subdued) grumpiness. Rather more low key was Clara who now feels like she was written in after the event – I’m wondering if her last-minute change of mind over leaving has led to some hurried script changes?
The humour worked well with the rubbish Vikings (all the backroom boys – I’m sure they should have had a chartered accountant in there) pitted against even more rubbish aliens who could be frightened off with a little slight-of-hand trickery. The one-liners all hit the mark (calling the Vikings everything from Noggin the Nog through to ZZ Top) and the action suitably chuckle-worthy. It was really only in the last ten minutes that something much darker came to light in which the Doctor brings the “girl who died” back to seemingly immortal life. The Doctor clearly breaking the laws of time and uttering the haunting line: “Immortality isn’t living forever, that is not what it feels like. Immortality is everybody else dying."
The second episode sees us drawn to 17th Century England and the adventures of the immortal “Woman Who Lived”, now a prototype Dick Turpin in an episode surprisingly low on action and high on dialogue which was, at least in my opinion, far better for it. It is also interesting that Clara featured as a mere cameo in this episode which does make me wonder about what brief Catherine Tregenna was given. The action did pick up towards the end and I suppose that being Who we had to have a “monster of the week”. I don’t think it was really required as the discussion between the Doctor and Ashildr on the true nature of immortality was actually far more interesting. The brief twist at the end (and possibly a link for the future) seemed to be lifted straight from Tregenna’s Torchwood work. I hope we see more stories from her in the future.
Much of the interest of these episodes has been around the performance of Maisie Williams as Ashildr. She is best known as Arya Stark in Game of Thrones, the sword wielding tom-boy, and I suppose it is easy to draw comparisons between the two. I think she did pretty well with it although I would like to see her in a non-fantasy role (I have heard good things about Cyberbully although haven’t seen it yet). Surprisingly, she is now 18 years old although still looks about 12 (which is probably due to me being a couple of series behind on Thrones). Still, I think she has the talent to break the barrier between child and adult actor. I’m interested to see what she does next.
I’ve been trying to spot the series arc over the last six episodes and whilst it looks like the Doctor may be having a mid-life crisis with his partying, shades and electric guitar, the real theme has been examining how much he can interfere with history itself, whether this was saving the child Davros to preserve the timeline, creating a causal loop to save himself or meddling with time to save others. This was a common theme with the early years of the show: particularly the First Doctor stories The Aztecs, in which the Doctor warns against trying to alter time “You can't rewrite history! Not one line!" and also The Time Meddler in which the Doctor stops a fellow Timelord from altering the events of 1066. What this series appears to be addressing is exactly what happens if the Doctor is the Meddler. Anyway, it’s Zygons on Halloween next week complete with UNIT in tow. It’s like it’s 1975 again…
Sunday, 25 October 2015
Saturday, 17 October 2015
Klopp of the Kop
I think you can tell how tedious English football has become when the most exciting thing to happen is that a German coach takes over at one of the clubs. Actually, I’m quite a fan of Jürgen Klopp and his time at Borussia Dortmund certainly brightened up the Bundesliga for a few years until money restored the monotony. There have been quite a few Kloppisms in the paper as well as much discussion of Gegenpressing: essentially high-tempo, counter-attacking football as opposed to the standard diving in the penalty area that makes much of modern football unwatchable.
I think Klopp should do quite well at Liverpool – if they don’t win anything they should at least have a good laugh trying. He also has pretty good English which is an advantage given that much of his team will speak it as a second language. However, I wonder if anyone has actually pointed out to Jürgen that this also applies to the majority of the fans. It’s a quite few years since I lived in the Liverpool area and even more since this book was written but it might be a good starting point for Herr Klopp:
In fact the Liverpool accent is rather unlike anything else found in Britain, originating in North-West England but combining both lyrical Irish intonation with a bucket of Welsh phlegm. However there are some elements of the local dialect that anyone hoping to live and work in the city would find useful. Here are a few:
Scouse: This is the accent of native Liverpudlians and is also the name of a cheaply made stew consisting of a small amount of leftover meat along with root vegetables that have been boiled to buggery (at least that is how my mother made it). Confusingly, these both derive from the German Labskaus, a culinary specialty from Hamburg. Scousers were originally the people, often sailors and their families, who subsisted on this.
Togga: A game of football. I’m not sure if this is still in regular use and, as far as I can recall, used to refer more to informal street football games.
Casey: This is what a standard association football is called, originating from the time that such an item would be made from a “case” of leather surrounding an inflated bladder. Such an item was once a prized possession and the keeper of the casey would therefore have first pick when it came to a game of 28-a-side togga.
Onion Patch: A derogatory term used by Evertonians to describe the pitch at Anfield. In fact, prior to the introduction of under soil heating they probably had a point. In mid-January the pitch would resemble something closer to the Flanders Christmas armistice than a top flight football match.
Ead the ball: Although this sounds as if this should be a footballing term it is actually used to describe someone who is psychotically deranged.
The Ozzy: Leeds United have been out of top flight football for a number of years however there is still the possibility that a particularly meaty tackle may result in Mr Klopp having to visit his players in “The Ozzy”. In fact if he checks out his squad list he will probably find that most of them are already there.
Bins: As Jürgen wears spectacles it is worth remembering that these are locally known as “bins” (possibly from binoculars?) I used to have perfunctory NHS spectacles similar to Klopps that were known locally as “spazzy ‘ealths” due to the belief that myopia was caused by cerebral palsy. I’m hoping that phrase has since died a death as opinions do now appear more enlightened. At the time I was so mortified that my optician convinced me that wearing round, metal framed “granny glasses” would make me look like a rock star such as John Lennon. This worked for 6 months and then some bastard shot him.
Clobber: Ones clothes. This may also consist of “Kecks” (trousers) “Gruns” (underwear) and also “Trainees” or “Trabs” (footwear) but despite what Harry Enfield’s “Scousers” sketch may have implied, shell suits are not mandatory.
La: A friend or compatriot.
Made up / Sound / Boss: These are all various phrases to indicate that a scouse person is in a state of contentment. Such phrases may be heard when one’s football team have performed particularly well.
Getting a cob on: This will describe a Liverpudlian who is not in a state of contentment: It is not “boss”, certainly not “sound” and the antithesis of “made up”.
Scally: A local ne’er-do-well.
Kirby Kiss: A head-butt – the favoured formal greeting of the scally.
Berst: Another pugnacious term, loosely meaning to administer a beating (“Ah’ll berst yous”)
Bizzies: The local constabulary – charged with keeping the local scally population under control.
Twirlies: Old age pensioners - supposedly derived from bus-pass wielding OAPs enquiring of the bus driver as to whether the non-peak service had begun with the phrase, “Ama tw’early?”
Antwacky: Again, I’m not sure if this is still in regular usage but is used to describe an item that is old-fashioned, redundant or otherwise past its sell-by date. Such items will usually be littering the homes of Twirlies and, no doubt, the trophy cabinets of the city’s football clubs.
Butties: a packed lunch. The mid-day meal is always referred to as “Dinner”. The evening meal is “Tea”.
Yewoh?: A scouse expression commonly used by the hard of hearing and translating loosely as “Excuse me?”, “I beg your pardon?” or “Could you please repeat that?”
Like: This is used in scouse as a form of punctuation, similar to a period, full-stop etc.
Anyway, language issues aside, I suspect Jürgen Klopp will enjoy his time in Liverpool. It is a lively vibrant city with friendly locals and a trusting nature. In fact it is not that uncommon for people to leave their doors unlocked at night which is quite surprising given the city’s reputation for being in close proximity to Manchester.
I think Klopp should do quite well at Liverpool – if they don’t win anything they should at least have a good laugh trying. He also has pretty good English which is an advantage given that much of his team will speak it as a second language. However, I wonder if anyone has actually pointed out to Jürgen that this also applies to the majority of the fans. It’s a quite few years since I lived in the Liverpool area and even more since this book was written but it might be a good starting point for Herr Klopp:
In fact the Liverpool accent is rather unlike anything else found in Britain, originating in North-West England but combining both lyrical Irish intonation with a bucket of Welsh phlegm. However there are some elements of the local dialect that anyone hoping to live and work in the city would find useful. Here are a few:
Scouse: This is the accent of native Liverpudlians and is also the name of a cheaply made stew consisting of a small amount of leftover meat along with root vegetables that have been boiled to buggery (at least that is how my mother made it). Confusingly, these both derive from the German Labskaus, a culinary specialty from Hamburg. Scousers were originally the people, often sailors and their families, who subsisted on this.
Togga: A game of football. I’m not sure if this is still in regular use and, as far as I can recall, used to refer more to informal street football games.
Casey: This is what a standard association football is called, originating from the time that such an item would be made from a “case” of leather surrounding an inflated bladder. Such an item was once a prized possession and the keeper of the casey would therefore have first pick when it came to a game of 28-a-side togga.
Onion Patch: A derogatory term used by Evertonians to describe the pitch at Anfield. In fact, prior to the introduction of under soil heating they probably had a point. In mid-January the pitch would resemble something closer to the Flanders Christmas armistice than a top flight football match.
Ead the ball: Although this sounds as if this should be a footballing term it is actually used to describe someone who is psychotically deranged.
The Ozzy: Leeds United have been out of top flight football for a number of years however there is still the possibility that a particularly meaty tackle may result in Mr Klopp having to visit his players in “The Ozzy”. In fact if he checks out his squad list he will probably find that most of them are already there.
Bins: As Jürgen wears spectacles it is worth remembering that these are locally known as “bins” (possibly from binoculars?) I used to have perfunctory NHS spectacles similar to Klopps that were known locally as “spazzy ‘ealths” due to the belief that myopia was caused by cerebral palsy. I’m hoping that phrase has since died a death as opinions do now appear more enlightened. At the time I was so mortified that my optician convinced me that wearing round, metal framed “granny glasses” would make me look like a rock star such as John Lennon. This worked for 6 months and then some bastard shot him.
Clobber: Ones clothes. This may also consist of “Kecks” (trousers) “Gruns” (underwear) and also “Trainees” or “Trabs” (footwear) but despite what Harry Enfield’s “Scousers” sketch may have implied, shell suits are not mandatory.
La: A friend or compatriot.
Made up / Sound / Boss: These are all various phrases to indicate that a scouse person is in a state of contentment. Such phrases may be heard when one’s football team have performed particularly well.
Getting a cob on: This will describe a Liverpudlian who is not in a state of contentment: It is not “boss”, certainly not “sound” and the antithesis of “made up”.
Scally: A local ne’er-do-well.
Kirby Kiss: A head-butt – the favoured formal greeting of the scally.
Berst: Another pugnacious term, loosely meaning to administer a beating (“Ah’ll berst yous”)
Bizzies: The local constabulary – charged with keeping the local scally population under control.
Twirlies: Old age pensioners - supposedly derived from bus-pass wielding OAPs enquiring of the bus driver as to whether the non-peak service had begun with the phrase, “Ama tw’early?”
Antwacky: Again, I’m not sure if this is still in regular usage but is used to describe an item that is old-fashioned, redundant or otherwise past its sell-by date. Such items will usually be littering the homes of Twirlies and, no doubt, the trophy cabinets of the city’s football clubs.
Butties: a packed lunch. The mid-day meal is always referred to as “Dinner”. The evening meal is “Tea”.
Yewoh?: A scouse expression commonly used by the hard of hearing and translating loosely as “Excuse me?”, “I beg your pardon?” or “Could you please repeat that?”
Like: This is used in scouse as a form of punctuation, similar to a period, full-stop etc.
Anyway, language issues aside, I suspect Jürgen Klopp will enjoy his time in Liverpool. It is a lively vibrant city with friendly locals and a trusting nature. In fact it is not that uncommon for people to leave their doors unlocked at night which is quite surprising given the city’s reputation for being in close proximity to Manchester.
Sunday, 11 October 2015
The Bootstrap Paradox
Well, I took the good Doctor’s advice and Googled it. It turns out that a bootstrap paradox is what is also known as the causal loop: an event in the past that is caused by an event in the future which has knowledge of that past event prior to its creation. The bootstrap bit comes from a Robert Heinlein short story By His Bootstraps which itself derives from the expression “pulling yourself up by the bootstraps” to indicate a seemingly impossible task. Self-causing events? Timey-wimey? Interestingly this was also used in the recent film Predestination, based on one of Heinlein’s other stories. It has also been used in previous Who stories - notably, Blink.
So much for the explanation but I’m wondering if the entire Doctor Who two-parter was originally to be called The Bootstrap Paradox until the author noticed that this would give the plot away at the start – in which case, why did he do just this in the pre-credit sequence? Regardless, Under The Lake and Before The Flood were far more enigmatic titles and this return to longer form story telling (the two parters are now the same length as the typical 1970’s four part stories) seems to be paying dividends.
Last week’s Under The Lake almost felt like it was lifted from a late 1960s Patrick Troughton adventure: base under siege: check; small cast of guest actors: check; running up and down corridors: check; Zoe in a tight fitting catsuit: well, you can’t have it all. Where it seems to differ is how the cliff-hanger was treated. Back in the day, the cliff-hanger was more of a contrivance to allow a longer story to be split into neat 25 minute chunks whereas here it was critical to the story and only resolved at the end of the episode even though the seeds of the resolution had all been sown in the first part. This was also used to great effect in the opening Dalek two-parter.
Another difference is the actual tone of the two episodes. Although the two halves make a greater whole I think it would be entirely possible for someone who had missed the first part to easily pick up the thread and enjoy the second episode in its own right. Much of this comes down to the fact that most of the elements were pure MacGuffinry: the big bad monster, the Fisher King, effectively plays no part in the story other than forcing the Doctor back in time to create the Bootstrap Paradox. In a way, it was a pity because it rather wasted an intriguing looking monster and the voice talents of Peter Serafinowicz.
If there was one thing that did niggle with me over the two episodes, it was the fact that the Doctor couldn’t communicate in British Sign Language because that is exactly the sort of thing that the Doctor would be able to do. From an entirely practical point of view of storytelling, I can see why the writer, Toby Whithouse, chose to script it this way but I think it was a bit of a missed opportunity given the intriguing possibilities of having a deaf character. However, this was somewhat made up for (and presumably of help to the hard of hearing) by having a Heavy Metal makeover for the theme tune. I’ve often thought the current arrangement is a bit insipid so couldn’t we have this every week?
Anyway, we are 4 episodes in and my fears that this series wouldn’t live up to expectations appear to have been confounded. If anything my enjoyment has been enhanced by the production team delving back in to the very best of the classic series. I also think this was the very best of Toby Whithouse’s episodes – could he be the showrunner in the future? Anyway it’s Vikings next week with Arya from Game Of Thrones.
So much for the explanation but I’m wondering if the entire Doctor Who two-parter was originally to be called The Bootstrap Paradox until the author noticed that this would give the plot away at the start – in which case, why did he do just this in the pre-credit sequence? Regardless, Under The Lake and Before The Flood were far more enigmatic titles and this return to longer form story telling (the two parters are now the same length as the typical 1970’s four part stories) seems to be paying dividends.
Last week’s Under The Lake almost felt like it was lifted from a late 1960s Patrick Troughton adventure: base under siege: check; small cast of guest actors: check; running up and down corridors: check; Zoe in a tight fitting catsuit: well, you can’t have it all. Where it seems to differ is how the cliff-hanger was treated. Back in the day, the cliff-hanger was more of a contrivance to allow a longer story to be split into neat 25 minute chunks whereas here it was critical to the story and only resolved at the end of the episode even though the seeds of the resolution had all been sown in the first part. This was also used to great effect in the opening Dalek two-parter.
Another difference is the actual tone of the two episodes. Although the two halves make a greater whole I think it would be entirely possible for someone who had missed the first part to easily pick up the thread and enjoy the second episode in its own right. Much of this comes down to the fact that most of the elements were pure MacGuffinry: the big bad monster, the Fisher King, effectively plays no part in the story other than forcing the Doctor back in time to create the Bootstrap Paradox. In a way, it was a pity because it rather wasted an intriguing looking monster and the voice talents of Peter Serafinowicz.
If there was one thing that did niggle with me over the two episodes, it was the fact that the Doctor couldn’t communicate in British Sign Language because that is exactly the sort of thing that the Doctor would be able to do. From an entirely practical point of view of storytelling, I can see why the writer, Toby Whithouse, chose to script it this way but I think it was a bit of a missed opportunity given the intriguing possibilities of having a deaf character. However, this was somewhat made up for (and presumably of help to the hard of hearing) by having a Heavy Metal makeover for the theme tune. I’ve often thought the current arrangement is a bit insipid so couldn’t we have this every week?
Anyway, we are 4 episodes in and my fears that this series wouldn’t live up to expectations appear to have been confounded. If anything my enjoyment has been enhanced by the production team delving back in to the very best of the classic series. I also think this was the very best of Toby Whithouse’s episodes – could he be the showrunner in the future? Anyway it’s Vikings next week with Arya from Game Of Thrones.
Sunday, 4 October 2015
The Demon Diesel
I’ve been hiding. Not behind the sofa whilst watching Doctor Who (a base under attack and lots of running down corridors – Oh yeah! But more on that next week) but because I drive a VW Golf and am now labelled as an environmental vandal even though I am one of those rare people who drive a petrol engined variety. At the moment it is not entirely clear what VW are going to do to fix the problem of their dodgy diesels but it is suspected that they will have a major recall of affected models so that the owners can have a paper bag fitted over their heads to re-establish the boring car anonymity that they believed they had bought into.
In fact what VW appear to have done is actually so ingenious, in an evil Bond-villain kind of way, that I almost have a certain amount of admiration that they have been able to pull it off for so long. The vehicles have been fitted with a piece of software that ensures that they conform to the toxic emissions regulations whilst being tested and only whilst being tested. Once out on the open road they happily spew whatever they feel like into the atmosphere. Now real Bond villains usually have a plan to steal a gazillion dollars, irradiate the US gold reserve, spark off World War Three or benefit from televising the affair. Spewing crap from motor vehicles into the atmosphere seems a bit low key although it was once the plot to an episode of Doctor Who (The Poison Sky).
Whatever VW’s nefarious motives it does reinforce one particular prejudice that I have had for quite a while: that is that diesel engines have no place on passenger cars. Diesel cars actually have many fans who would willingly pay out extra for them but from my experience I can only assume that they are deaf, daft or stupid. In fact much of my abhorrence of the technology comes from the fact they fail abysmally to do what their fans claim that they capable of: i.e. that they are cheaper, more reliable, cleaner, more powerful and more efficient than their petrol counterparts. It is a technology that promises much and delivers very little.
The first point is fairly self-evident: check out any range of passenger cars and the diesel variant costs more to buy. It doesn’t stop there. Years ago I wrote a short piece for an early version of the Top Gear website in which I compared the cost of servicing and fuel for the diesel variant of the car I had at the time and proved that it would never actually break even over the lifetime of the vehicle. Admittedly, fuel was much cheaper back then but even at today’s prices it wouldn’t make economic sense once the extra cost of servicing was taken into account. In terms of reliability, it was probably once the case that a well maintained diesel car would be less trouble than its petrol equivalent but whilst the petrols lost carburettors, points and electro-mechanical distributors (i.e. the things that caused problems) diesels gained such delights as dual mass flywheels and DPF filters (i.e. the things that will empty the bank account when they go wrong). The idea that they offer more power comes down to turbo chargers – remove that and the performance is miserable (and two can play at the turbo game).
The last point, and one I would still grant to diesel overall is that they use less fuel – at least in terms of litres consumed. In part, this has been down to fundamental differences in the design of the engines but it is also down to the fact that diesel fuel is more energy dense than petrol. The fuel economy is why I went for a diesel variant of the Mazda Premacy which on paper looked like a sensible economic choice (45mpg for the diesel compared to 31mpg for the petrol). At least it made sense until I took into account the astronomical servicing costs, the sheer embarrassment at the mushroom clouds of black soot that were emitted from the back of it and the fact that the dismal reliability of the diesel unit cost me far more than the supposed savings in fuel. However, it was genuinely efficient when using it on long motorway journeys. That was the one thing it seemed good at but if I compare the real world fuel consumption of my petrol Golf (around 50mpg) to a colleagues similar diesel engined model (55mpg) it doesn’t make a clear case for itself and, considering that diesel produces 15% more CO2 per litre burnt, it would appear that the petrol wins even on the level of greenhouse gasses – supposedly the diesel car’s forte.
So why am I bothered? Aside from my miserable experience with the Mazda I’ve avoided this abomination of a technology but our (and most of Europe’s) government have been doing their best to encourage diesel car ownership. In part this has involved subsidising diesel through preferential duty rates. Even in this country, where petrol and diesel duty is the same per volume, diesel has benefitted from not having to pay for its additional 15% CO2 emissions and, more importantly, it has benefitted from preferential rates of Vehicle Excise Duty and company car taxation based on its largely fictitious emissions ratings. The problem with this is that it causes a great glut of diesel vehicles to hit the second hand market. When I was looking for a petrol Golf, the local dealership didn’t have a single petrol variant on the forecourt. Whilst VW may have been wrong in gaming the system they were actually responding to the rules that our governments set out for them to play with.
In terms of rebalancing the public policy I would like to see the taxation move away from standardised tests that merely encourage the manufacturers to fix the game. Toxic emissions are difficult for the average consumer to spot but it would not be beyond the wisdom of legislatures to design regulations that would monitor emissions in real usage. As for the CO2 figures it would make far more sense to tax the fuels for their carbon content and tax the vehicles according to their weight and size which have a far greater bearing in real life motoring and would be very difficult to fiddle.
Fixing broken regulation is one answer but what is the real solution? Petrol engines still burn copious amounts of fossil fuel and they still produce significant levels of toxic pollution. There has been a slow but steady move towards electric and hybrid solutions. Our local taxi firm now uses almost exclusively Toyota hybrid vehicles and for their work, which largely involves driving around urban areas, they are ideal with a vastly reduced fuel consumption and far superior reliability compared to either of their exclusively dinosaur juice competitors. I’ve also seen quite a few all-electric cars being used locally and these have the advantage of being both emission free at the point of use and being capable of being powered by energy produced by the large local windfarms.
Diesel does still have its uses – at least in the medium term. It is still by far the most versatile way of powering large, heavy vehicles such as HGVs and public service vehicles and, considering I am still expecting goods and services to be delivered to me, diesel would seem to be the best way to do this until such time that a viable alternative can be found. But as far as the passenger car is concerned, could we just accept that diesel has had its day?
In fact what VW appear to have done is actually so ingenious, in an evil Bond-villain kind of way, that I almost have a certain amount of admiration that they have been able to pull it off for so long. The vehicles have been fitted with a piece of software that ensures that they conform to the toxic emissions regulations whilst being tested and only whilst being tested. Once out on the open road they happily spew whatever they feel like into the atmosphere. Now real Bond villains usually have a plan to steal a gazillion dollars, irradiate the US gold reserve, spark off World War Three or benefit from televising the affair. Spewing crap from motor vehicles into the atmosphere seems a bit low key although it was once the plot to an episode of Doctor Who (The Poison Sky).
Whatever VW’s nefarious motives it does reinforce one particular prejudice that I have had for quite a while: that is that diesel engines have no place on passenger cars. Diesel cars actually have many fans who would willingly pay out extra for them but from my experience I can only assume that they are deaf, daft or stupid. In fact much of my abhorrence of the technology comes from the fact they fail abysmally to do what their fans claim that they capable of: i.e. that they are cheaper, more reliable, cleaner, more powerful and more efficient than their petrol counterparts. It is a technology that promises much and delivers very little.
The first point is fairly self-evident: check out any range of passenger cars and the diesel variant costs more to buy. It doesn’t stop there. Years ago I wrote a short piece for an early version of the Top Gear website in which I compared the cost of servicing and fuel for the diesel variant of the car I had at the time and proved that it would never actually break even over the lifetime of the vehicle. Admittedly, fuel was much cheaper back then but even at today’s prices it wouldn’t make economic sense once the extra cost of servicing was taken into account. In terms of reliability, it was probably once the case that a well maintained diesel car would be less trouble than its petrol equivalent but whilst the petrols lost carburettors, points and electro-mechanical distributors (i.e. the things that caused problems) diesels gained such delights as dual mass flywheels and DPF filters (i.e. the things that will empty the bank account when they go wrong). The idea that they offer more power comes down to turbo chargers – remove that and the performance is miserable (and two can play at the turbo game).
The last point, and one I would still grant to diesel overall is that they use less fuel – at least in terms of litres consumed. In part, this has been down to fundamental differences in the design of the engines but it is also down to the fact that diesel fuel is more energy dense than petrol. The fuel economy is why I went for a diesel variant of the Mazda Premacy which on paper looked like a sensible economic choice (45mpg for the diesel compared to 31mpg for the petrol). At least it made sense until I took into account the astronomical servicing costs, the sheer embarrassment at the mushroom clouds of black soot that were emitted from the back of it and the fact that the dismal reliability of the diesel unit cost me far more than the supposed savings in fuel. However, it was genuinely efficient when using it on long motorway journeys. That was the one thing it seemed good at but if I compare the real world fuel consumption of my petrol Golf (around 50mpg) to a colleagues similar diesel engined model (55mpg) it doesn’t make a clear case for itself and, considering that diesel produces 15% more CO2 per litre burnt, it would appear that the petrol wins even on the level of greenhouse gasses – supposedly the diesel car’s forte.
So why am I bothered? Aside from my miserable experience with the Mazda I’ve avoided this abomination of a technology but our (and most of Europe’s) government have been doing their best to encourage diesel car ownership. In part this has involved subsidising diesel through preferential duty rates. Even in this country, where petrol and diesel duty is the same per volume, diesel has benefitted from not having to pay for its additional 15% CO2 emissions and, more importantly, it has benefitted from preferential rates of Vehicle Excise Duty and company car taxation based on its largely fictitious emissions ratings. The problem with this is that it causes a great glut of diesel vehicles to hit the second hand market. When I was looking for a petrol Golf, the local dealership didn’t have a single petrol variant on the forecourt. Whilst VW may have been wrong in gaming the system they were actually responding to the rules that our governments set out for them to play with.
In terms of rebalancing the public policy I would like to see the taxation move away from standardised tests that merely encourage the manufacturers to fix the game. Toxic emissions are difficult for the average consumer to spot but it would not be beyond the wisdom of legislatures to design regulations that would monitor emissions in real usage. As for the CO2 figures it would make far more sense to tax the fuels for their carbon content and tax the vehicles according to their weight and size which have a far greater bearing in real life motoring and would be very difficult to fiddle.
Fixing broken regulation is one answer but what is the real solution? Petrol engines still burn copious amounts of fossil fuel and they still produce significant levels of toxic pollution. There has been a slow but steady move towards electric and hybrid solutions. Our local taxi firm now uses almost exclusively Toyota hybrid vehicles and for their work, which largely involves driving around urban areas, they are ideal with a vastly reduced fuel consumption and far superior reliability compared to either of their exclusively dinosaur juice competitors. I’ve also seen quite a few all-electric cars being used locally and these have the advantage of being both emission free at the point of use and being capable of being powered by energy produced by the large local windfarms.
Diesel does still have its uses – at least in the medium term. It is still by far the most versatile way of powering large, heavy vehicles such as HGVs and public service vehicles and, considering I am still expecting goods and services to be delivered to me, diesel would seem to be the best way to do this until such time that a viable alternative can be found. But as far as the passenger car is concerned, could we just accept that diesel has had its day?
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