Chris Maclean: Information anarchy

I have developed a reluctance to offer information. I've no wish to appear rude, but I don't always trust people's motives.

Many years ago, working in a very rural pub late one evening, a smartly dressed man entered seeking directions to a particular address. It was dark and he couldn't see the house names. Anxious to help, I enthusiastically pointed out the house owner who was here drinking with his mate. The smartly dressed man approached and served papers. He was a bailiff and the customer was embarrassed. I have never been so forthcoming ever since. The customer forgave me but I still blush when it is mentioned.

But the necessity to proffer information, even when it appears totally unnecessary, irritates me enormously. Of the dozen local authorities I've submitted TENs to, two have written back threatening to reject them in future if I fail to include my National Insurance number. What possible use can it be? It was part of my personal licence details examined months ago. Do they think I might forge a new NI number?

Last week I tried to buy two lavatory seats. Plastic, white and ordinary. The assistant took my order and then it started. They feel compelled to take more personal information from me for the purchase of two lavatory seats than they would reasonably require if I was borrowing a million quid. Refusing the information is regarded as being awkward. So I have devised a new strategy. It requires dead-pan delivery but it works;

"Your surname, please."

"Brown."

"Is that B-R-O-W-N?"

"Yes."

"Initial?"

"G."

"And your postcode"

"SW1A 2AA."

"Is that Downing Street?"

"Yes"

"First Lord of the Treasury?"

"Yes."

"They are not in stock. Would you like them delivered first thing tomorrow morning?"

I said no and left it. There seemed no point in pursuing it.

Ah well. Hopefully Number 10 is receiving dozens of useful DIY catalogues. It's anarchy here in the Borough of Swale.