Director General's blog

Friday 17th May

Dairy UK this week found itself in the same position as the future world milk supply/demand balance. We had more demand for our services than we had people available to supply them. I myself had two major diary clashes. And, in addition, my brand new granddaughter Grace Catherine was scheduled to make her arrival into the world. As everyone knows ladies turn up when they are ready. Not when they're expected. 

The crisis deepened when, in spectacularly dramatic circumstances, we lost the services of our Comms Director. We can only confirm three facts at this stage. One - Mr and Mrs Bates were pitchside, happily watching their son play rugby. Two - the rolling maul was moving ominously close to the touch line in their direction. Three - the final outcome was a week in hospital for Mrs Bates with all the agony associated with a double leg fracture. Quel chagrin!

Details of what happened in between are sketchy, but of course many theories abound. I have dismissed the suggestion that a mother's first instinct is to protect her son, so she chose to intervene. The alternative and much more likely scenario is that she was instructed to join the fray by Mr Bates to practice some of the tricks he learns at Harlequins every week. In truth, it was just one of these things. Whatever, everyone associated with the production of this column and the dairy world at large, wishes Charlotte a swift and comfortable recovery. Most of us have been there. We know what it's like. She will be helped immensely by the crutches given to her in the hospital. And from the crutch, currently in the kitchen making her a cup of tea. I can thoroughly recommend them both.

Despite the challenges, the week unfolded beautifully. Wee Grace Catherine arrived on time. She winked at me, and her little smile communicated the clear message that everything was fine, now get on with the rest of your week. Then, as ever, Britain's dairy farmers came to my rescue They agreed to change the time of the Voluntary Code of Practice meeting. This left me free to address the fine ladies of the Women's Institute.

The WI is a powerful political voice. This is because when you present to them, as I’ve done many times, they listen, probe, challenge and question. I told them how vitally important the dairy industry was in the world; both in economic terms, particularly by supporting the economies of communities in the countryside, and because our products go into nearly every single household in the country. This imposes an immense responsibility on us to make our products 100% safe, as well as healthy and nutritious. It also makes us responsible for the environment and for the kind of world that we want wee Grace Catherine and her contemporaries to grow up in. They thanked me for this and, in legendary WI style, they rewarded me with a homemade cake, and two pots of homemade jam. Wonderful.

I hadn’t been looking forward much to the Code of Practice meeting. I’d read in the press that for various reasons it was going to be murky. Of course it was the opposite. Constructive, meaningful, and indeed productive. The Code so far has been a massive success. Everyone is set on making it more so, with even greater coverage and a clear process of how it will be reviewed, expanded, and taken forward. We’ll meet again next month to make more progress. Knockers please note.

More issues were about to hit us later in the day which meant that I got to the DIN conference for one hour in total. I wonder if Barry will refund my conference fee? What do you think? However I didn’t miss all the quality. Indeed I was gratified and privileged to hear my mate the great Eckhard Heuser, granite rock of the German dairy industry, vent forth on how he sees the future. Eckhard elaborated on a strange juxtaposition in his country. He identified the ideas of Romuald Schaber, leader of the controversial EMB dairy farmers’ body as a major German export to the rest of the EU. He surmised that Mr Schaber had been responsible for the EU Commission’s High Level Group which led to the Dairy EU Package.  However he then told us that the German industry had agreed that no changes to contracts were necessary in Germany arising from the Dairy Package. There were lots of different pricing arrangements, all working satisfactorily around the principle that the model for the future was long term relationships between farmer and buyer, with two way contracts giving security to invest both ways. In questions later no-one challenged this obviously sensible model. But then there was no-one there from the WI.

Friday 10th May

 Nothing will ever be the same again, will it? People say that because Sir Alex and his successor are both bestowed with a Glasgow culture, the transition will be seamless. But it won’t. I mean Sir Alex is from Govan and David is from posh Bearsden. That’s where our own Kirk o’ the North lives. They don’t have culture in Bearsden, they have manners.

Thirteen Premier League titles. Three Scottish Premier League titles. Five FA Cups. Four Scottish Cups. Five League Cups. Two Champions League wins. Two Cup Winners' Cup trophies. Four other continental honours. OBE. CBE. Sir. Deserves a proper accolade in anyone’s terms. So at Dairy UK, we have unanimously agreed to the small gesture of renaming our Boardroom. Currently it’s the William Wallace Room. In future it will be called The Hairdryer Suite. The Dairy UK chairman has promised to ensure that the cap fits. I’m sure that he will be as good as his word.

An interesting statistic brought to my attention by the Pieman (Chelsea fan) is that, whereas Sir Alex has won thirteen Premier League titles, he has in fact been banished to the stands on seventeen occasions. In my view this qualifies him perfectly to move from his football role straight to a conciliation role helping the Irish farm minister Simon Coveney to put the EU CAP Reform package to bed. Not that Simon needs much help. He could charm the birds off the trees this man. Equally, of course, if he chooses to adopt his Pied Piper mode, he could lead us all off the edge of the cliff. But his track record so far is sound. He’s the guy who has injected massive confidence into the Irish dairy industry. All he did was tell them that the food industry would lead Ireland out of recession and that dairy would be at the core of the strategy. It must be the way he tells ‘em.

To be honest, he’s had a good start. He sorted out the EU Council’s initial negotiating mandate relatively painlessly. Even more commendably, nobody’s leaking from the talks with the Parliament to try and thrash out a deal. But the harder part will start soon. Eventually he’s got to go back to the Council to get several Member States to move off their red lines and get realistic. It will give them one last chance to pursue their pet hobby horses. 

We at Dairy UK have one particular issue that vexes us and that’s supply management measures for the dairy sector. Quotas are a hard habit to break and some Member States want a last fix and the Parliament wants to make a gesture to those that want a comfort blanket against the vagaries of the market. Whilst it’s good politics, the reality is that quotas only worked with a raft of additional measures that insulated the EU from world market trends. The budget isn’t there anymore to fund those measures. All supply management would do is pass growth opportunities to the EU’s competitors whilst the EU engaged in the hopeless task of trying to manage the global supply/demand balance on its own. It would be a noble endeavour, but futile. Price volatility is a challenge that must be addressed, and there are a lot of private and public sector tools to do it, but pseudo-quotas, or whatever you want to call them, aren’t one of them.

While everyone else in EU agriculture is preparing now for the cow show season in June, the bureaucrats will have their heads down sorting all this out. The last chance saloon for Simon Coveney is the Agriculture Council meeting on 24/26 June, which is the last meeting over which he presides during the Irish Presidency of the EU. Frankly, many consider that this is the last chance saloon for all of us, because if the Council doesn’t agree with what Simon says, then authority passes over to Lithuania to pick up the pieces, and eh, well…em ….if you know what I mean.

So, to Simon Coveney, we wish the luck of the Irish, and as they say in these parts ‘may the road rise up to meet your feet’. Better fortune than his two countrymen who went for a job in a forest. There were vacancies for tree fellers. But they weren’t considered because there were only two of them. Sorry, but it’s been a long day.

Friday 3rd May

A hint of summer and suddenly London is half naked. Love is all around. People are clamouring to mount Boris bikes and the parks are overflowing with games of rounders. Yes rounders, the family game where boys play against girls, all the pets join in, and the old play against the young. And the summer brings it on. And it's the old dogs, still full of life, that you have to admire most. Sure, in front of the children and the grandchildren, they can show the kids a thing or two. One more swallow dive to catch the ball an inch from the ground would show them exactly who is boss. Just one more memory of the old days, eh? Let's hope the cameras are rolling! 

Friday 26th April

A few days break this week found me in the gaming hall in the casino at Monte Carlo. Well life's a gamble, isn't it, and I'm a gamblin' man. I've always fancied myself as the kind of guy who could go out to plant the potatoes and strike an oil well. Manchester United had just won the league so I considered whether to put the family silver on 20 red. At the last minute the boss gave me one of those 'haud oan to your ha'penny' looks, so I sat down till I felt better. Later, in downtown Monaco, I was able to return the stare when I saw her looking in a shop window. The shop sold planes. Not the Airfix variety. No, real vroom vroom planes. Yip, there are some totally surreal parts of the world. And Easyjet can take you to them from Gatwick, for £64 return. 

More surrealism from the US, where we can now reveal that our own Queen Bee had buzzed over to Boston for a big nutrition hooley only to find herself blockaded in her hotel room as the fugitive escapade unfolded in the streets outside. So while the world was gripped by the drama, back at the office, we were getting hourly bulletins direct from the centre of the action. Fortunately, while all this was going on, she had some company in the room in the shape of a local mouse. So at least she had someone to talk to. I mean it wasn't as if there was anything exciting to watch on the telly. For some reason, the Queen Bee did not see this as a bonus. I mean what would you have done? Faced with the alternatives of walking the streets of Boston in the company of the gung ho uninhibited US military, or spending a few hours alone in your hotel room with a mouse, which would you have considered the greater threat? I don’t understand why she called out the National Guard? A week on, all is well however, and Dairy UK members will soon receive her report on the latest global thinking on dairy nutrition, particularly that pertaining to yogurt. Recipients of this report who consider that the handwriting looks a bit shaky are asked to take the circumstances into account. Surreal or what?

Patient readers can by now start to see the theme of this narrative. While I was away I was distracted briefly from the surreality of Monte Carlo by the surreality of the UK. Eh? Protests and demonstrations at retailers against the background of impending milk price increases? Splits in the coalition between its constructive elements, who have successfully worked hard to establish positive mechanisms such as the Voluntary Code on Contracts, and who are looking at long term strategies for the industry to buy into, and those who see dialogue as an unnecessary hindrance, and believe the first solution to everything is disruption. Eh? And is this going to be the norm rather than the ongoing exception? The great Kevin Bellamy, once a benevolent UK tax collector working on behalf of farmers at the Milk Development Council but, now, globally aware analyst with CEO level contacts throughout the modern world, and an acute sensitivity about what drives investment for growth, was the guest speaker at the Trehane Dinner on Thursday. In front of him were the farmers of the future, who were benefitting from the knowledge that Trehane can provide. He identified the opportunities whether at home or abroad, and then reflected for a spell on why some countries appeared to be further forward in preparing for the future than the UK. He briefly mentioned the protests and the frenzy whipping up of the previous few days, and his expression said it all. And yet, I find that people whose views I respect and trust are now asking me how we can use the strategies of the extremists to positive effect? That leopards can in fact change their spots? I have no doubt of the depth of concern and feeling, I share it. But on this way forward I can only advise them to do what I did in the casino in Monte Carlo. If you feel like this, sit down until you feel better.

Surreal, surreal, surreal. But that is not all. At dinner in France, the boss and I had a surreal discussion about the value of knowledge. She said to me 'how many shipping forecast weather regions around the UK can you name?' I thought long and hard, and then confidently said 'none'. She said; ‘What's the value of knowing the words of every single pop song since the 60s if you don't know important things like the shipping forecast regions’.

A very good question in a surreal world I thought, as I recollected that the boss is a philosophical kind of woman. In fact one of the strict conditions of her agreeing to marry me 38 years ago was that I would never sing her any Lonnie Donegan songs, but I suddenly felt one coming on.  So I sang out ‘I would not marry a farmer, he's always in the rain, I'd rather marry a gamblin' man with a gold watch and chain’. A passing waiter said 'Im sorry sir, we don't have a music licence here but we do accept les grandes pourboires.  'Have a drink on me' I said. Lonnie Donegan, five minutes in the limelight, but a philosopher for life.

Friday 19th April

‘So the growth in dairy demand is expected to be greater in Asia than in the EU, because the population growth will be greater there’. As I heard myself say the words, there followed what can best be described as a pregnant pause. Because as I looked out at the audience, all I could observe was a sea of bumps. One particular lady looked gloriously healthy. However I would have readily forgiven her if she had moved nearer the door for a quick exit. I’m sure I could see Wakey Wakeling ready with some towels, a blow up cushion, and a basin of hot water just in case.  I thought to myself, well, if the EU population growth is lagging behind the rest of the world, it’s not down to the efforts of the ladies of the British dairy industry. That’s for sure.

And so it is that we welcome into the bosom of dairy industry kinship Jamie Motion, new addition to the family of Joanne and Alistair, and more recently Jemima Rose Jones, daughter of Emma and Terry. Later today, at The Dairy Council, we shall say arrivederci to Sarah Brown as she heads off to prepare for her contribution to the burgeoning dairy population. And as I tap out this little essay, I see in front of me in the office, the IDF’s Delanie Kellon, currently a global expert on environmental sustainability, and soon to become equally well versed in maternity policies, teething rings, and the price of pushchairs. It’s all wonderful to see, but what kind of world are we bringing these children into? And the good news is that it’s a man’s world. Now, every day, including this morning, on the 7.07 from Hinchley Wood to Waterloo, I am joined by three men, three pushchairs, and three gurgling little babies. Including me, that makes four gurgling babies in all. This is undoubtedly the way of the future. A modern world in which fathers take their full responsibility. Potential daddies, please note.

Friday 12th April

It’s 5:40 AM and I am writing this on a train heading for France’s biggest Camembert factory so, by definition, the biggest Camembert factory in the world. I’m with Kimberly – All Black to the core and in between times European Trade Representative of Fonterra. The conversation has started controversially. Her previous deployment was in Chile and she was telling me what it was like, “Chile is the Scotland of South America” she says “the people yabber away, but no one understands a word they’re saying”. Right!

“Absolutement” chips in Bénédicte on my right “I take your blog home and show it to my (English) husband who tells me what you are saying and explains all the funny words”. “Dinnae fash yirsel an giesapunomince', I said, thinking we’ll see how her English husband gets on with that. 

Kimberly is heading back to New Zealand later this month to take up a posh new position as Head of Dairy New Zealand. This is a kind of DairyCo equivalent. Interestingly her brother is a dairy farmer on New Zealand’s north island near Palmerston North. Next year he’s going to be the Chair of the Dairy Farming Union, the NZ equivalent of the NFU. Can you believe it? They’ll be able to scream at each other across the dinner table. 

Whether we actually get into the Camembert factory is uncertain, because today in France there is a nationwide day of protest by French dairy farmers, doubtless in a way that only the French can about milk prices. And you have to be honest, French farmers show real innovation in their protest strategies.  One time, they got their message across by removing the trolleys from outside the supermarkets, clever eh? Then a couple of years ago, they blockaded the headquarters of CNIEL, the French Interprofessionnel body, for five weeks. The staff had to work in bars and coffee houses around Paris. They’ve done other things as well, but I don’t want to give anyone any ideas. 

The complaint this time is directed again at “Le Distribution”, or retailers to you and me. Prices in the shops must rise it is claimed or else more and more French dairy farmers will switch to “Le Cropping” – a trend already palpably apparent across the country. An additional lever will be delivered to them later in the year when more drying capacity comes on stream giving more options if the retail sector doesn’t deliver. 

In an astounding development earlier in the week, the French Agriculture Minister called everyone together - famers, processors and retailers - in an attempt to “facilitate” an agreement amongst the parties. How they can do that and still stay within competition policy is a mystery to me and to most observers in France. But the very fact that the Minister intervened at all in such a can of worms is remarkable. It also demonstrates an unshakeable reality about the French. They have a consummate belief that politicians can solve everything.  

But the frustration of French farmers, and those across the EU as a whole, is the result of an awareness of an increasingly favourable supply/demand balance for milk around the world. This is what is driving the upward momentum in dairy’s industrial markets at present. But it’s not so straight forward with the retail sector, who perceive that their customers are languishing in a recessionary economy. Also, like everywhere else, the rhetoric from the retailers during these hard times is designed to position themselves as overwhelmingly the farmer’s friend. French farmers are not persuaded by this, only rising retail prices and faster transmission down the supply chain will convince them. 

Meanwhile back in the commodity sector dairy analysts around the world are trying to evaluate whether or not a price spike similar to that in 2007 will materialise. And that depends on the short term supply of milk. And in this regard, the situation in New Zealand is crucial. It is the change there from what was described last year as a perfect season to the position now of drought which is creating the upward price pressure.

Soon Kimberly and her brother will be able to sort all that out across the breakfast table, but until then it’ll be left to the market. 

Friday 5th April

It’s been an astoundingly quiet week in the British dairy industry. The kind of week when you just have to sit back and watch the grass grow! Well, no luck there either I’m afraid as the ball-witheringly cold weather continues unabated. I heard David Cotton on the wireless this week talking about it. An active member of Dairy UK’s Farmers’ Forum, David is always worth listening to, although, annoyingly for the rest of us, when you look at him, he always appears to be blessed with the gift of eternal youth. But if you are a milk producing cow reading this blog, my advice is don’t go round to David’s place at the weekend for dinner. I’m afraid you’ll find that the Cotton fields are bare. And worryingly it’s the same for most of the country; except it seems for my back garden where the grass seems to me to be above the height of the lawn mower. So David if you can get your tractor across from Devon to Surrey, you can have it all for nothing. No charge. Every little helps.

So, with things quiet on the home front, I turn for once to the rest of the world for inspiration and ideas. I am in the fortunate position of being the recipient of six monthly summaries of the latest developments prepared by dairy economists in countries around the world. With the assistance of Malthusian Pete, I have the relatively simple task of bringing everything together and presenting the info back again to the people who provided it in the first place. I believe this process is called consultancy. Anyway, increasingly I find that the ideas being developed elsewhere have been thought up here in the first place. Take the concept of cross industry representation for example. It started with Dairy UK. Now similar bodies have set up in Australia, Georgia, and Sweden. Then there’s Environmental Dairy Roadmaps. The first one was here. Now they’re moving ahead rapidly in Canada, Australia and the USA.

But perhaps most significantly, there’s aligned milk pricing. Definitely a UK concept, and, when it first emerged, a worry to the rest of the world. Particularly from the world’s dairy farmers who resented even the possibility of direct contracts with supermarkets. Frankly, I think it’s still a worry, but I’ve always believed that the concept would spread around the world based on the increasing priority for processors and retailers alike of security of milk supply. I would have guessed that supermarkets in China would have been first to join in, but consumer demand there is still for UHT liquid milk rather than fresh, making the need less urgent. Instead, Australia, and in particular Eastern Australia, with its fluctuating weather, its fresh milk consumer demand, and its English trained supermarket managers, has been the first to move. Its only on a small scale at the moment, almost a test basis, but I chuckle because some of the ‘pioneer’ farmers involved in this  now are the very same ones who in discussions with me a couple of years back,  would have swum the length of the Brisbane River rather than go down this route. The industry in Australia doesn’t quite know what’s going to happen next. I do, as do most of you. What I don’t know, is where the concept will in the world be taken up next. But I think there’s a strong probability that it will.

Finally, the paucity of activity this week has given me the chance to add another couple of chapters to my rapidly progressing book on the modern history of the British dairy industry. Not a dull boring history with technical appendices and the like.  But one seen from the eyes and ears of a silent eagle, soaring above all the major events and swooping up, down  and in and out, and then off in whichever way the wind blows. Very soon I’ll be at the chapter identifying the top ten heroes who have contributed most to the industry in modern times. Will YOU be in this chapter I wonder? Or will you be in the chapter identifying the top ten barriers to progress?  I’m really interested in your views and opinions. I expect of course early suggestions from the doom-mongering commentariat but I also want to hear from people who can be positive. So think beyond the obvious and let me know what you think. I’m at the usual address and in a quiet week, just patiently sitting waiting for your replies.

In a week of prestigious accolades (see below), I can confirm that I have been bestowed the honour of being appointed as a judge in the World Scotch Pie Championships to take place in Dunfermline later in the year. At a chance meeting with the Grand Poobah of Scotch Pies at the Scottish Food and Drink Federation event at the Scottish Parliament this week, I impressed him with my detailed product knowledge and experience - not just on pies but in the peripheral specialist fields of Forfar Bridies and sausage rolls. Of course the winner of the World's Scotch Pie competition is, by definition, the maker of the world's best pie. Of that there is no doubt. We, the cognoscenti on the judging panel, consider all other pies within the generic category of 'lower crust', whereas the Scotch Pie is uniquely classified as 'upper crust'. Before appointment, I was asked some tough questions......like how do you make a Scotch Pie healthier? I said that at Easter Road where the Hibs play, they used to put a two inch air space between the filling and the top layer of pastry. I think that was the right answer.

Friday 22nd March

Alas, sport has now definitively sunk to the level of politicians, the press and the banks – at least in my eyes, anyway. The England coach's shameful criticism of the referee in Cardiff, and the Football Association's cowardice in not pronouncing a life sentence on the Wigan tackler, has taken it there. And then there's Rio. Spurning the national vest to be a pundit on a TV channel in Doha. What's that all about? 

Friday 15th March

On Wednesday evening we were sitting, gazing around the Royal Albert Hall, waiting for the concert to start. The boss remarked “It’s all grey heads in the audience”. “You mean like us?”, I said. She thought for a minute. “OK, it’s all grey heads and blonds”, was the reply. Then, out on to the stage came the world’s most desirable blond. Well, I mean, when I say….. ‘the world’s’, I mean apart from the boss, all the blonds reading this, and any other blond I know. But honestly. I really mean honestly…..what more can I say! Olivia Newton John. Absolute total perfection. I passed out during ‘Let’s get Physical’, but not before I saw her wink at me. Yip, 35 rows back, and she still picked me out.

It’s passion you know. Passion. The world’s most effective communication medium. It overrides science, fact, and reason. It overrules the head. And in that way, it can be a force for good or evil. Well no, lets substitute the word ‘mischief’ for the word ‘evil’, and the perspective of my week comes sharply into focus.

Earlier in the day we had been making our way to the CASH lunchtime reception at the House of Commons. We were starving, but we knew that the food at the reception would be salt free. The Queen Bee groaned in despair. ‘If it’s inedible, I’m going straight to McDonalds’, she said. It was. As they passed round the salt free quiche and little globules of pâté, I discovered for the first time that the absence of salt also makes food look dreadful. Everywhere there were people politely nibbling, but clearly in distress. My mind flashed back to the time they forced me to eat sea cucumber in Shanghai. McDonalds is going to experience a rush at around 2.30pm, I thought.

At the same time, the CASH disciples were swallowing platefuls of this soulless fodder with relish. They absolutely loved it. I would say they were, in fact, passionate about it. But as we rolled through the various presentations at the reception, and listened to the interventions from the floor, it became increasingly obvious to me that that the feelings being expressed represented more than passion. They were pretty much extreme. And I began to wonder: what is the difference between passion and extremism?

Well, the clues came thick and fast. Passion is when you show visible enthusiasm for a person, cause, or issue. It is positive and constructive. Extremism is where you go further, and experience real visible rage at people with an opposite view. It is negative and hostile. The focus moves from supporting your position to attacking your opponents. Sad to say, there was lots of that at the CASH reception. I spoke to one eminent Government health adviser on the subject of cheese. She was calm about her own views, but antagonistic about the views of supporters of cheese – around 60 or so of whom – mostly members of parliament – had been eulogising last week in the room next door at our own Parliamentary Reception on cheese. She openly admitted that her views were different from those of her own husband. She quivered when she reflected that he was a strong supporter of the NFU, and an inveterate cheese lover. Blimey!

David Heath MP, Minister for Food and Farming, man of the countryside, and champion of a product which has nourished the world for a thousand years – way before anyone knew how to spell obesity, and all round general good egg, you came to the Dairy UK Board and told us that you would defend cheese to the last. You would stand up and be counted. Send the TV cameras round to my back yard, you said. 

Well David, cometh the hour, cometh the man. We need you. You must now step forward and lead the charge in Government. And you must show the passion of Olivia in carrying out this task. Because in the corridors of power, as in Olivia’s country roads, passion, and not extremism, is the most effective communication medium in the world.

Friday 8th March

Marvellous Mansel and I had a Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah day in Brussels on Wednesday. We had been at the Commission's Milk Advisory Group meeting, and Marvellous had been in electric form, plucking at the heart strings and playing to the gallery throughout the day. The Kleenex was everywhere. There was not a dry eye in the house. So much so that I was really looking forward to congratulating him on the train back to London. But blow me, as we approached the Eurochoochoo Marvellous turned left towards the comfy seats at the front, whilst I joined the throng at the back. Oh well, I thought, as I searched for my last Kleenex, the greatest performers pay a price, but there's also a few perks along the way.

I don't spend a lot of time in Brussels these days, infrequently enough to be able to see change. Increasingly, whilst walking the streets in the heart of the city, I observe the stylish edifices of the past crumbling down and rising again in new less stylish forms, the architects all seemingly disciples of the god of functionality. The same thing appears to be happening with the European institutions, and the Commission's Milk Advisory group is a case in point. Back in the day (sorry Ramsay) there was the industry in the form of the EDA and Eucolait, the farmers represented by COPA-COGECA and the Commission – a tripartite discussion on markets and the prospects.  Depending on the issue, various levels of seniority from the Commission would turn up. Sometimes you got the wedge, other times the full truckle. Now, there is a whole range of farming representative bodies with a seat at the table. For some, extremism is the message and disruption is the single tactic. The mood has inevitably changed.

On this occasion, it was a group called the European Milk Board (EMB) who stimulated the excitement, All over what seemed like a relatively innocuous project being undertaken by the Commission. It has hired 6 heavyweight academics to give an external view of how the milk sector after the end of quotas could develop, and asked them to consider a series of questions. The condemnation for this exercise was universal in the room. "Why didn't you ask us?", was the sentiment. "We're supposed to be the experts". But the man from the EMP went too far. "This organisation is like a captainless ship, drifting around the ocean, changing direction with the wind, and threatening the livelihoods of thousands". For a moment, I thought he must have been talking about the Scottish Football Association, but it seems he meant the Commission. Well, the man from the EMB had underestimated the firepower of the Commission official on duty, who responded with a barrage of articulate rhetoric that blasted the man from the EMB out of the water.

I can understand why this Commission project created such a stooshie. I can even understand some of the frustrations of the man from the EMB. The normal EU approach on dairy policy is: first do the research; next establish your strategy; then undertake the implementation; and finally go to the bar for 10 years before starting all over again. But this time the Commission has established the strategy first (viz the soft landing to the end of quotas); then changed it all and diluted it all down (the Dairy Package); then asked the academics to tell them what might happen as a result of the strategy they implemented in the first place. They've got a phrase for that kind of approach in Wales I believe. But the looming end of quotas is what is at the heart of it, and what's causing the restlessness is the possibility that the Commission, pressured by the European Parliament, might change their mind again. The man from the EMB would like that. He is advocating a supply management system that looked worryingly similar to one of the questions which the six wise men have been asked to look at on the feasibility of buyout systems. The EMB proposal won't happen because it won't work, and everyone knows that and can see it clearly. Milk quotas will go and that will be the end of it. But there will be some exciting times in the Milk Advisory Committee before then.

And as for Marvellous Mansel, well, my revenge will come surely on Saturday at Murrayfield. If we can beat Ireland with 20% possession, surely we'll only need 10% to defeat the Welsh. Yes, the proles will have their day, and Saturday could be it. And if things don't go well, there is always the option of watching the game in the same way that I used to watch Dr Who and the Daleks when I was but a wee bairn - from behind the sofa in the reflection in the window!

Friday 1st March

The shape of things to come was evident right from the start. In the breakfast arena on the first day of the NFU conference, there was a huge picture of Peter Kendall on the video screen. The music playing in the background was 'Like Jesus to a Child'. This symbolism was re-enacted several times over the next 36 hours. The whole event was a triumph for the NFU, and a triumph for Kendall personally.

He fought on several battlefields during the conference, but none more compelling than the opening session with Secretary of State Owen Paterson. It was a close contest after their formal presentations. Kendall sparkled, Paterson too, but a little less so. But the debate was incisive. Two experts battling for intellectual supremacy in front of a thousand critical eyes. And of course the NFU President had the greater challenge. He has to persuade Paterson to change his mind on a lot of aspects of CAP Reform, not least that English farmers should be on a level playing field with others in the EU and with others in the UK, because as things stand at present they won't be. But he couldn't bring out the full public artillery against the man who has backed those same farmers to the hilt on the vital issue of TB and badgers. Instead he skilfully used his mate, Gerd Sonnleitner, the President of COPA, as the thorn in the Minister's flesh. 

'I am surprised to hear that some in the UK think that we only need a Rural Policy and not the CAP' said Mr Sonnleitner. 'It is every Government's first duty to protect the food supply to its consumers. We need a strong CAP more than ever before. We oppose the transfer of funds from the first to the second Pillar'. The crowd roared its approval. Paterson, right on so many important things is misguided, in my view, on one. He defends his rejection of Pillar one funds by arguing that he refuses to use taxpayers' money to produce surplus food that consumers don't want to eat. In the dairy industry and for most, if not all, of agriculture, that is a flawed argument. The battle in future will be to keep production in pace with demand growth, not the other way around. Pillar One provides income stability when the market doesn't. They should continue, and all farmers should get an equal cut.

I was exposed to lots of other interesting things in my travels this week - the first meeting of the Welsh Dairy Task Force, an engaging session with some visitors from Denmark, and the PTF dinner – the latter, always exciting for a number of different reasons, mostly to do with the Grosvenor House bar prices. But it was an event much further afield that caught my eye. For years – around 30 in fact - dairy scientists have felt short-changed by the method used to assess the quality of dietary proteins. This method has allowed soya protein to claim to be as good as dairy protein in terms of its quality. Proteins are sources of essential amino acids, which the human body cannot produce itself. However, not all proteins provide the right amounts of these essential amino acids. Dairy does! Now, in a groundbreaking report, the Expert Consultation of the United Nation's FAO has recommended a new advanced method for measuring dietary protein quality. Now far be it from me to lecture you on a highly technical scientific subject which involves understanding terms such as 'faecal crude protein digestibility'. So I will restrict myself to the man on the Clapham omnibus version, and this is that dairy will score between 10% and 30% higher than soya – a fact that our scientists have always known, but can now prove.

Now the gain from this comes in more than one area. Obviously there are commercial implications. But more than that, in the next 40 years we are going to have an extra 3 billion hungry mouths to feed. There is already a move to suggest that the only way to do this is by replacing animal agriculture with crops. But this now affords us the opportunity to reposition dairy as the highest quality, highest value, protein source and an essential part of the sustainable diet. Good news this for sure, and a good return for the years of work that has gone into reaching this conclusion.

Friday 22nd February

Now that the horsemeat race is all but run lets all get back to eating beef, I say. Why? Because not eating beef is making people ill. On Wednesday morning the boss asked me, "What do you want for tea tonight?" "Why, mince and potatoes, of course", I said. "I'm not making any more mince", was the reply. "I've been making it for you for 37 years, and I'm not making any more". I could see that my jacket was hanging from a shoogly nail, so instead I arranged for us to eat out on one of those Evening Standard offers you get in February. For those of you not familiar with these 'special offers', you eat in posh London restaurants but you end up paying more or less the same as you would normally. They just present the bill in a different way. But the boss was delighted, and happily shrugged off what looked to me like an extremely dodgy piece of mackerel. And I mean dodgy with a capital D. But at that point, who could have anticipated the difficult night that lay ahead? At around 4.30am, as she hurtled by me in a hurry for about the 5th time, I whispered sweetly to her, "we should have stuck to the mince!" I don't know where she learned some of the words she used in her reply. She was a real lady when I married her.

We're all off to Birmingham this week for the NFU hoedown. We've all been asked to go in disguise so we can get past the protestors. So, I'm going as a lump of cheese that's had the salt taken out. I'm using it as a dress rehearsal for the CASH reception at the House of Commons in a couple of weeks time. I'm confident that they'll get the message. But above all I hope that the conference is more than just a grumpfest, because the NFU is better than that. The other day I overheard the boss quip to her pal, "Sometimes I wake up grumpy. Other times I let him sleep!". So I'm going with positive intent, and I hope that the dairy breakout session can get into the real challenges that face us in terms of consumers. These are things that the unions seldom discuss but are even more important than anything else to dairy farmers. How can we defend the integrity of our products against legislators and organisations like CASH? How can we promote our fantastic products to consumers to best effect? How can we learn from the good things they do in other countries? What can we learn from them? And how can we leverage the frankly inadequate resources that are available, collectively, to justify the investment? We are all very Proud of Dairy, but unless we're careful, pride can come before a fall.

Or of course we could instead go on relentlessly whingeing, shaming, naming, finger pointing, whodunnit, who didn't, and all the wearisome rest. The Code of Practice on Contracts is the latest target for those with that sort of frame of mind. However, they may be frustrated. From my perspective the Code is obviously working. Contracts are being restructured, complicated models are being simplified and above all improved. So let's leave the process to unfold, and move on. Journalists competing in the Twitter Olympics looking for opportunities to pick at the industry might have to look elsewhere.

London this week has been pleasurably frustrating. It's been full of grannies, prams and under 5s, all of them determined to make the most of half term week. And this includes spending as much time as possible on the tube. But the antics are a joy to watch. I encountered this on my way to Clarence House where Prince Charles and the dairy moguls met to plan the next phase of the Prince's Dairy Initiative. I, like everyone else, was sceptical at the start of this project but, with Lyndsay Chapman in the chair, it has achieved significant success. And it was so impressive to listen to Lyndsay tell the future king of the realm that, in the two years of the pilot project, of the 74 farmers involved (and these are all people for whom the challenges are greatest), all are still in dairying. That, for me, is pretty impressive. Not everyone gets the opportunity to talk to the king (in waiting), far less impress him with a job well done. But Lyndsay did, and it made all of us very proud.

Friday 15th February

It is no surprise to me that the National Farmers Union of Scotland now has 100 years of fighting for Scottish farmers under its belt. Ok, I was jettisoned to the safe distance of the overspill hotel at their big birthday bash in St Andrews, but with a room looking out on the 18th green of the Old Course. That's quality service. And quality was what they delivered in spadefuls this week. Two days spent considering how the horsemeat farce could be turned into an opportunity for Scottish food producers. Step forward Jim McLaren, chair of Quality Meat Scotland and the man who wrote the book on political opportunism. It was a joy to watch.

Friday 8th February

"Not the" DG's blog:

Before I begin, I think that I should make it absolutely clear that there is no truth whatsoever in the rumour that the DG has been in hiding ever since the gladiatorial contest that took place at "the cabbage patch" in TW2 last weekend. It's a brave Scot indeed who hands over his blog to an Englishman just days after a Calcutta Cup clash but, have no fear, I'll be ensuring that there are no grounds for allegations of arrogance or condescension.

There has obviously been an enormous interest in food quality this week. Frozen beef lasagnes have turned out to be not what they said on the packet. Coming up on the rails of "burgergate", the FSA is now instructing food processors and retailers to carry out tests on all processed beef products. Some feel that this is shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted. The press has certainly galloped away with the story, but the fact that this has once again been the number one news story across the media is illustrative of the public's interest in that most elemental of subjects – food.

Public and media interest will inevitably mean that the food industry will be under greater scrutiny. This will extend throughout the supply chain. Consumers will want to know all about the ingredients in their foods, what they are, where and how they were produced. And the food industry will be under increasing pressure to be in a position to demonstrate the integrity of its products. It won't be enough to label burgers as beef. As we've already seen in the demands from the FSA, it could well be necessary to provide evidence to show that the beef in the patty is not something else.

The ability to demonstrate something to be the case is absolutely fundamental. Red Tractor has been enormously successful in setting a benchmark for quality assurance. In GB, 95% of milk is now produced to Red Tractor standards. This is an enormous step forwards in a relatively short period of time and our industry can undoubtedly be proud of what has been achieved. Consideration is now being given to developing the scheme to encompass outcomes based standards. This mirrors the situation in the wider food industry at the present time. No longer is it considered enough to be doing the right thing. The public and consumers now require the food industry to be in a position to demonstrate that this is the case. We know that our dairy farmers are the best in the world and we need to be in a position to prove it.

Finally, there has been speculation that recent developments could be enough to deliver a significant shift away from processed foods and ready meals, and towards simple, natural foods, such as a glass of milk, a piece of cheese or a pot of yogurt perhaps? What's more, they're delicious and packed with protein, calcium, vitamins and minerals, and research shows that the nutrients in milk make it an effective rehydration drink and good for muscles too, so great for sportsmen and women. 

Which reminds me, about that Calcutta Cup .....

Friday 1st February

On a normal day, Malthusian Pete's humour is best described as......laconic! On Tuesday he surpassed himself. We were scheduled to meet up in carriage B on the 7.35am train from London to Coventry, but I couldn't see him as the train started to pull out of Euston. The phone rang.  The conversation went as follows - "Where are you", he said. "Carriage B". "So am I", he replied. "I can't see you". "You will if you look out the window. I'm on the 7.35 to Manchester, departing alongside you on your left". 

It's been a week of journeys. First to Edinburgh to confirm with my friends from the unions the reality that the Voluntary Code of Practice is on track, moving along purposefully, and requiring only some ruffles to be ironed out rather than major surgery, which is the impression you get when you read the papers. Now, today, I've turned into a 'beige man' heading out to watch the Six Nations from the sun. So, at the moment, I'm suffering from 'Easyjetstroke'. I swear in my next life I can make a fortune from selling hamburgers to Easyjet speedy boarding queues. But it's the stewards on board who win the prize. "Hold on to your boarding passes, lads. By the look of you, you won't remember your seat numbers by the time you get there". Then, when I couldn't get my knife into the rock hard butter, he said "Don't worry. The hardness of butter is proportional to the softness of the bread, and I can assure you the rolls are straight out the freezer".

In Edinburgh there was the opportunity to have a forensic look at the Scottish dairy industry. I think it is magnificently placed to exploit the challenges of the future. The Cabinet Secretary, Richard Lochhead has engaged the angelic James Withers to do a bit of navel gazing, and produce a report within an incomprehensively short time frame. James has enlisted a veritable phalanx of consultants to assist. But will this be simply a political clarion call for exports? Is the report already written? I am assured not. Sure, there will be an eye on the forthcoming referendum. Why not? I'm told that the Scottish Nationalists have fallen behind in the opinion polls. That will cause Richard some concerns, but it's no bad thing. The sooner you fall behind, the more time you have to catch up.

Scotland's greatest asset is perceived to be its provenance. That's important, but as was pointed out to me, it delivers a market premium on much less produce than you would think. For me, a massive strength is the quality of its farmers and, more significantly, its dairy processors.  Exports will be a big part of the future for sure, and Scotland has within its dairy portfolio a number of major global dairy players. That's the key. This provides nous, access and above all choice. And it's the third of these where I believe the Withers Report must focus, because choice is a double edged sword. Global dairy companies will invest the steel in the countries which are the most competitive. They have the scale and the reach to do this. So it follows that Scotland is no different from anywhere else. If it is to be the country of choice, it must be at the top of the competitiveness tree. I have every expectation that it will be.

Devoted readers of this blog will recall the scorn I poured on an English prop called Alex Corbisiero because he attributed his success to giving up dairy products. Some, including the Pieman, leapt to the defence of this maligned English lionheart. Alas, Mr Corbisiero will again be a missing gladiator in the Calcutta Cup match tomorrow, and indeed from the whole Six Nations tourney, having had to go under the knife to sort out a problem in one of his knees which has been troubling him for some time. As we all know, calcium is important for healthy bones and cheese is a rich source of calcium. So I say again, "Have a lump of cheese, Alex, and get well soon". Let battle commence.

Friday 25th January

Love is in the air as Scots the world over celebrate today the birth 254 years ago of the most romantic poet the world has ever known. Strip away the 'Tennent's veneer' and you'll find a little bit of Robert Burns in every Scotsman. At the very least, when they are wooin' the lassies, they always ask their names.  So today in the streets of Killikrankie, Stronochlacher, and Achiltibuie and certainly in boats on Campbeltown Loch, thousands of honest sonsie faces will be stravegin' around with their willie waughts in homage to the great man. The biggest decision every Scotsman has to take today is whether its breast or leg of haggis for dinner. 

Except that is in the nerve centre of the National Farmers Union of Scotland, where they will be wrestling over their invitation list to their annual AGM hooley in St Andrews next month. My joy knew no bounds when I learned last month that I had been honoured with an invitation to this prestigious affair. I mean the dinner is the kind of event that you would happily kick a ball boy to get into. However, yesterday I learned that in fact I had been put on a waiting list for guests. Yip, you heard it. A waiting list for guests. So it seems that on the night, I shall have to take my pace in the gruel queue outside the Fairmount Hotel in St. Andrews while inside, the privileged knabs feast themselves on a festoon of Scottish gastronomy which will include, I'm told, the globally famous 'Scotch Pie Lite'. That's the way of the way of the world, I suppose. I'll just have to man up, and accept it.

Doubtless there will be more discussion about this next week when, coincidentally, I have a meeting with the very same NFUS in Edinburgh to discuss the Voluntary Code of Practice. 'George the Bruce' has told me that it's important to get the meeting in before their annual hooley - yes, that's the same annual hooley that they won't let me into. I was of course happy to oblige. But hold on. Help ma boab! How embarrassing. I've just realised that I have a clash of meetings on the due date. Oh no. What can I do? Will I now have to put the NFUS on my meetings waiting list? Don't worry lads, I'll let you know as quickly as possible. I promise.

On the subject of the Voluntary Code, I observe in the media and elsewhere this week a lot of blellum suggesting that if the Voluntary Code doesn't work, then we should look to regulation. Of course it's important that the Voluntary Code must work, and it will. But to everyone involved in the clamour don't forget for one minute that regulation is not the alternative. Do not forget that in a regulated situation a new contract would be required every time the price was changed. So just reflect on the implications of a volatile price environment on contract security for both parties, and it won't take long to understand what I mean. And if you're in a co-op, spend a little time reflecting on the fact that the Voluntary Code gives farmers certain rights, whereas under regulation they would not receive any. Right, now let's start focusing on getting the Voluntary Code working and on the pricing systems that the dairy companies are working up on the back of the code, which will increase transparency, protect to a degree against market volatility, and give confidence to the farming sector about the future. That's the real gain in the Voluntary Code agreement, and the huffers and puffers, I'm sure, know this very well.

Finally, the quote of my week came from the Queen Bee. In addressing the House of Lords' Parliamentary Forum on Food and Health she said ' When you're a nutritionist working in academia people trust your judgement. When you move into the food industry, you say exactly the same things, but people look at you differently'. Sat beside her was her co-presenter Professor Mike Kelly, renowned academic and adviser to Government. The issue was Front of Pack labelling, vital to the dairy industry even though the Department of Health's proposals for Traffic Lights are only voluntary. Professor Kelly's observations included ' The real danger with traffic lights is that consumers focus only on what might be bad for them and not on what's good for them'. So, DoH, over to you. If you don't believe it from the food industry, you can take it as certain from academia.

Friday 18th January

I'm writing this in the Caledonian Club in London. I'm hoping that the snow will build up and trap me in here for the weekend. These days anything over about 1mm should be enough. There's a man in here from Paisley. I used to work in Paisley. Paisley is the town where there are three women for every man. Unfortunately, it's the same three women. This is not my observation, but that of the great Mr Sandy Strang, whom I remember as the rector of Hutchie School, the posh school next to mine in Glasgow. However, this week he was the star of the annual Semex Burns supper, and he had lots more observations to make. The favourite quaff of a Paisley girl is vodka and Windolene, he quipped. They still get blootered, but their eyes continue to sparkle. "I'm a member of the Paisley wine club", he said. "We meet every morning at 9am".

Mr Strang almost eclipsed the star performance at the Semex conference earlier in the day where another great industry leader, this time Ronald Kers of Muller Wiseman, added to the chorus of British dairy companies with vision and who are prepared to invest in the future of the British dairy industry. The list is long and comprehensive and it shows great confidence in the future of our sector. Ronald was joined by Peter Kendall, less strident than normal and perhaps a little apprehensive, confessing, as he did, that he was speaking on foreign soil. But nevertheless, still positive and constructive. Welcome to Scotland, Peter - the only place in the UK where a nippy sweetie is not something you suck.

Indeed it's been a largely constructive week, almost free of the Walter Mitty influence of our medicine heads and spin doctors. I say almost, because you can never be free of them altogether. We had Minister of State David Heath at the Dairy UK Board meeting this week. As he sat down to speak, someone back at Defra PR issued a press release implying that everyone was going to get a tongue lashing. That qualified as the hyperbole of the year. Why do these people do that? Instead, he was constructive, articulate, and confident about the future of our industry. And, most significantly, he said he would be proud to stand shoulder to shoulder in the vanguard of crusaders battling to preserve the integrity of dairy products against their detractors, some of whom we will find in other Government departments. That's what we wanted to hear. No spin, just a clear message of support.

And so, many of us felt that the Minister's rough treatment in the House of Commons the following day over the horsemeat scandal was a little unjust. His critics lambasted him, mainly on the allegation that this was clearly a situation caused by the fact that Government management of the food industry is spread across a number of different departments. Too easy to slip between the cracks. Where was the overall control of food? Well, I've argued with others in the past that an overall food policy is no bad thing, but does that mean we go back to the days when all food issues were under one roof? Well, a department like that would be too big, once you'd regained the responsibilities that the Department of Health is currently making a hash of. So maybe you could drop environment, that's not really food is it?

Neigh neigh said the Horse Whisperer (who since Wednesday's burger content news has been constantly looking over his shoulder) when we were discussing this in the office. Agriculture and the environment are inextricably linked. 13% of global greenhouse gas emissions are caused by agriculture. And combining food and the environment forces Governments to have a balanced approach to each, rather than each department riding a one trip pony. He earned some extra sugar lumps for that contribution. So, in terms of policy development, the position reached on this issue by Dairy UK so far is as follows. The environment, agriculture and food should all stay together in a new administration called The Department for Environment, Agriculture, and Food, or DEAF for short. And if organisations like ours are successful in our lobbying we can justifiably claim that our arguments have fallen on DEAF ears!

I can do no better than finish with some more words of wisdom from the philosophy of the aforementioned Mr Strang. Always remember that your dog and not your wife is your best friend. You can test this by locking both in the car boot for 4 hours. Then open up and see which one is most pleased to see you. Pass me another bottle of whisky, Hamish. I could be here for some time!

Friday 11th January

I'm writing this in a café across from the Planet Hollywood restaurant in Covent Garden. Have you ever been there? My kids took me there once on my birthday.  They arranged for my name to appear in lights with all the other birthday tributes. Everyone's name was flashed up sequentially. "Many happy returns to Carol (9), and Ian(11), and Mark(7), and Jim(58)!

London is buzzing with children just now. They are all around me chatting on their iphones. They can't be Sirious! And there's lots more children to come judging by the unbelievable number of 'Baby on Board' badges you see now on the trains. Courteous gentlemen like me find themselves bobbing up and down at every station as another wave of parents in waiting get on and off. Of course I'm being unusually politically correct when I say "parents in waiting", because it's only expectant mums who get to wear this particular badge of honour. I wonder whether there would be any mileage in a silver 'Grandad in Gear" complementary badge?

To be honest, with my late return to the fold post the seasonal break, I haven't really done much this year to talk about. So, mostly, I've been looking at what other people have been sharing with the world to enlighten us as we start on our 2013 journey. And I notice that feeding the world has drawn a lot of the early attention. Frankly, on the basis of the number of Baby on Board badges on display, I don't know how this is going to be possible…even in my own family where my eldest daughter is scheduled to give birth on the same day as the Scottish Cup Final. Still, as a Rangers supporter, I don't have to worry about these things any more. Anyway, I see that our Food Minister has told the Oxford Farming Conference that the market will decide where the food of the future will be produced. So does that mean no UK food policy is necessary? Owen, are you sure? I'm not. But rapidly on the heels of the OFC came the news that half the world's food production is wasted. Well I know it's a lot, but half? What a massive waste of resource if it's true. In the UK dairy industry we reckon the wastage figure is under 10%. That's not great in itself, but a long way from half.

Now all of this is fascinating, but it was some items from down under in Australia that intrigued me the most this week. Dairy farmers there were at the end of some mixed messages on the future of dairy markets. First there was some positive news about enhanced activity by dairy buyers in China, and the prospect of a better balance of supply and demand in global dairy markets. Floods in some parts of the world, drought in other parts, are restricting supplies. This will increase milk prices, was the message.

But in the same bulletin came more coverage of the iniquitous 1$ per litre retail price of liquid milk in Australian supermarkets. Farmers have been complaining about this for two years now. To be honest, $1 per litre is more than the retail price in British supermarkets, so everything has to be put into perspective. But that's no comfort to anyone. The bad news this week was that this pricing promotion was being extended by the two main supermarket stores into their smaller 'express' stores in the high streets – where retail prices are higher. This attracted savage criticism from the farmers, forcing a reaction from one of the supermarket spokespersons. Now I know it's hot out there at the moment, but his reaction to the national media was that they'd done this because their customers had told them in research that they didn't see why they should pay different prices in different outlets from the same retailer. Fair dinkum, I say, but can we now expect to see the retail prices of all their food products in their High St shops tumble by the same criteria? Whoops, but as I say, it ain't half hot there at the moment.

Finally a sad farwell to Michael Evanson, a great doyenne of the UK dairy industry who passed away at his Bath home earlier this week. And so we lose the most flamboyantly articulate Englishman that I ever met. Michael was an actor who filled in between performances with part time work at Unigate Dairies. Before long, he was travelling in the Chairman's private company jet, and charting the growth of what was then the biggest dairy company in the world. Laterly he was the Commercial Director at the Dairy Industry Federation, and in fact, recruited me into that organisation. Any of you who have enjoyed a walking tour of Bath on a Sunday would almost certainly have been guided around by Michael. You will certainly remember it because of the descriptive poetry he will have used, and the fact that you will almost certainly have missed lunch. A Scottish colleague of ours once complained to Michael that he was using too many French words in the milk price agreements, such as 'tranche'. Michael inquired if he was familiar with the French verb 'se facher' which of course means to get upset. 'Of course', said Donald. To which Michael replied 'Well dinnae fache yirself, an gie us peace'.

Friday 4th January 2013

Twelfth night is not yet upon us, but already Christmas seems but a dim and distant memory.

It was a traditional Christmas day in the Bates household. Three generations were gathered around the festive table, with pride of place going to my 94 year old Great Aunt. There was one absentee, however. Our younger son is currently studying in Japan. He was spending Christmas day in an Irish bar in Tokyo, so he and a number of his friends "exuberantly" (it was late evening for him after all!) joined us via Skype, which to me is one of the modern miracles.

As usual, the responsibility for sourcing, preparing and cooking the Christmas dinner was my preserve. It's always interesting food shopping in the run up to Christmas. Supermarket aisles are packed with the world and her husband, and all shoppers simultaneously display two distinct characteristics.

The first suggests that they are preparing for a lengthy siege, as trolleys are crammed to overflowing with seasonal foods. "We must have sprouts", they say. "Your mother loves her walnuts". "Have you got the dates in case Uncle Fred drops in"? "Do we need more"?

The second characteristic is almost diametrically opposite. Suddenly, everyone seems to be stopping to read the labels, to find out more about their food and where it comes from. "Is this product better than that one?" they ask. "Is it British"? "This one's more natural". "Put that one back, this one's local".

And throughout the month of December, seemingly at least, the television schedules and newspapers are crammed with back-to-back endless advice on what should be on the Christmas cheeseboard this year, which farm supplies the best turkey, and whose bacon should be gracing our pigs in blankets.

And then, as the plates on Christmas day are cleared away, that's it. Finished. Over. With a few exceptions, the nation's interest in food comes to an end.

The overwhelming majority of the population are no longer interested in where their carrots come from. The fact that dairy farmers get up in the middle of the night 365 days a year to milk their cows, or the years of heritage and craft that go into cheese making, no longer interests them. It's all taken for granted.

Indeed, if we look at the New Year's Honours list, despite the fact that food is one of very few essentials in life, farming and food production seems to receive very little recognition. Food and farming is once again consigned to be the forgotten industry.

Which is why the study published this week by the Oxford Farming Conference is so important. Because it points out that, yes, food production is all about providing a continuous supply of safe, nutritional products. This is taken as read. Yes, it's all about maintaining the highest standards of animal welfare. This is what consumers expect. And yes, the food industry makes a massive contribution to the national GDP, and is a huge employment sector. But farming and food production's contribution to British society is so much more even than this.

The research highlights farming's enormous wider contribution to UK society and concludes that the supply of food touches people's lives perhaps in more ways than any other industry. It points out that UK farmers are making significant contributions to national biodiversity, accessible green space, health and communities. Farming's role as one of the principal custodians of our rural landscape and wildlife goes largely unappreciated and unrecognised.

And so, when you look at all of this, there are so many reasons why consumers' interest in, and appreciation of, food should not be boxed up with the decorations until next year. It really is about time that our food industry, and the people employed within it, receives the recognition and respect it deserves.

Friday 21st December

In yet another turbulent week for the dairy industry, making sense of it all is like trying to nail a jelly to the wall. Perhaps it's the complexities of the modern Christmas. When I was a boy, Christmas was much simpler. You went to the circus at the Kelvin Hall where you saw trapeze artists and elephants, all linked together trunk to tail. Everybody had two Christmas dinners on Christmas Day, the only two times in the year when you ate chicken. I was a milk delivery boy, so that meant seven days a week, Christmas Day included. And in those days, the whole dairy supply chain was profitable. I knew that for sure, because the driver of my milk float was actually a second hand car salesman who had become a milkman in order to submit a tax return. Within six weeks he had decided to base his tax return on his car business.

This week I was back at the circus, but this time at a burlesque themed, elephant free, restaurant in London. I certainly saw trapeze artists, exotic ones, men and women, undertaking a range of athletic wizardry, on top of the table in amongst the soup plates. There was a near disaster just above me when a male contortionist got himself into difficulties while circling above a lady who was swallowing flames. It was the nearest thing to a literal demonstration of chestnuts roasting on an open fire that I've ever seen! And of course there was no sign of any chicken, but I console myself with the thought that at least I'm not in Norway at this time of year. Dinner with some Norwegian friends this week revealed that their main Christmas event is on Christmas Eve when they all sit down and eat........reindeer. Help ma boab! What do they tell the kids? I've no idea who delivers the presents, or for that matter, who eats the carrots and drinks the milk.

The night was interrupted for me in dealing with the ongoing blockades, but I'm not going to dwell on that. Instead, we have to try and take the positives from what has been possibly the most eventful year in my time in the industry. It would be churlish to suggest that it's been a wonderful year. The input costs and the weather have seen to that. But no-one can deny that the structure and transparency of our pricing systems has taken a meteoric step forward, a process that will continue next year. And we can't forget that there has been some really significant investment in the industry this year, the benefits of which will generate dividends for us in the future. Next year will be another crucial investment period for the industry because it will certainly change beyond recognition when the final piece of the regulation jigsaw, viz the quota system, ends in 2015. So everyone has to prepare for that. But when we go forward with our strategic visions we have to remember one thing. The industry in each EU country, including us, is global, with global players. So more and more it's global head offices and not individual nations which will determine the location of dairy processing in the future, in terms of which countries supply which markets. And these decisions will be based quite simply on competitiveness, above history and provenance in my view. So competitiveness and alignment with markets will be crucial if we don't want to miss out.

And, of course, a liberal dose of happy pills for all of us as the year progresses. But before then there's the small matter of Christmas. You know how every Boxing Day, after all the celebration, travelling, and the opening of the 400 or so family presents, you sit down and say 'next year we'll do it differently. We'll go away for Christmas and avoid all this. The money we save on presents will pay for the holiday'. Well this year we are actually doing this. So at the weekend, we're off on a plane, en famille. In truth it means that you open 400 presents in a different place, but it will be fun. It's only dependent now on Cool As recovering from the norovirus which so far this week has deprived her of joining in the singing at the Jersey Boys Christmas special. Each of us sang her a Frankie Valli song in sympathy. Feelingly, mine was 'Ain't that a shame' but Sister N was merciless. 'I've got you under my skin' rang out as poor Cool As slowly changed colour. Sisters, eh? Oh what a night for all of us...in very different ways.

And so, as we come to the end of another year, let me, on behalf of everyone at Dairy UK, wish the entire global dairy industry, with whom we engage constantly, a very merry Christmas and the happiest and healthiest New Year ever. And a special glass is raised, in particular, from me to those who merrily help this column along each week with humour and understanding, including the Horse Whisperer, the Queen Bee, the Boss, the Pieman, Wilkiepaedia and all the rest down at the Scoff and Swallie. They think it's all b*@~*#ks, and they're probably right!

Friday 14th December

It's not all bad you know. For example, this week I found myself in a focus group at the European Commission with a posse of young Italian ladies from the olive oil sector.  We had to identify ourselves to the facilitator by writing our names on sticky labels. As the lady next to me passed round the labels she whispered in my ear 'for the next hour you can be anyone you like'. So I chose to be..........'Ronaldo'!  You can just imagine how things went from there. The project was to formulate messages around a European brand for EU food products. Our task was to find the phrase synonymous with 'quality'. Every single one of the signorinas equated quality with 'passion'. Getting into the swing of things quickly, I couldn't disagree, adding that I didn't think that the appropriate phrase should necessarily be in English. The final outcome? 'Naturally bellissimo', of course. I should do more of this.

Later in the week I was privileged to listen to a Spanish Government official tell the story of how the Dairy Package has been implemented in Spain. They provided for Producer Organisations more than 18 months ago, but they haven't taken off. The farmers, with no experience of collective organisation, have simply rejected them. The Spanish Government also imposed a regime of mandatory contracts. What has happened is that the notice periods guaranteed by the dairy companies have reduced down to a couple of months. Of course they have. What else could possibly happen in today's volatile markets? So the UK situation of voluntary contracts with short notice periods on the farmers' side and longer security provided by the dairy companies is now looking very attractive, and the best game in town. David Heath announced the consultation on the Dairy Package this week. So did all the devolved administrations. All are recommending voluntary arrangements. It looks a real no brainier to me.

Finally, much to my regret, I won't be able to join the 'grumpy old men' this year for the traditional Christmas curry. I took advantage of a special 'dinner plus theatre' offer to see the Jersey Boys in London on the same night. But I'll be with the boys in spirit. After all, for them in the curry house and me in the Prince Edward theatre, 'Grease is the Word"!

Friday 7th December

An excellent evening of bonhomie and revelry took place this week as the great men of the NFU Dairy Board gathered to celebrate a significant birthday of their leader and inspiration, Marvellous Mansel of the Valleys. The event took place at The Pudding Club. Yes, I know. But as I gazed over the selection of some of England's finest steamed suet and corn flour creations, I thought what finer place for Mansel to spend his first fuel allowance cheque. I was a privileged and honoured guest at this homage, and I didn't think it odd at all that the great man made four thank you speeches during the evening.  I know that often you have to tell people things more than once. In one of these Mansel revealed that his lovely wife Roz had chosen to celebrate the occasion with tickets for the Wales v Australia rugby international at the Millennium Stadium. Oh, well. The best laid plans etc etc. But thoughtfully as ever Roz had bought the tickets for the Australia end, knowing that at least Mansel would be guaranteed to experience some singing and dancing. I thoroughly enjoyed the evening and was quite relaxed, having taken the small precaution of never turning my back on the custard bowl. And I enjoyed the company of the Dairy Board, particularly the late evening competition around the log fire to find the most number of adjectives that can be put in front of the word 'badgers'.

The Cheese Ceremony at the Royal Hospital in Chelsea was another triumph for The Dairy Council. The extensive media coverage is testimony to that. At the lunch, I found myself at the top table and had to use my diplomatic skills to get the tempting board of magnificent British cheeses past the loquacious Governor, and round to me.  Having achieved this, I failed completely with the biscuits. Now if I'd had one of these fine ceremonial swords that he was carrying it might have been a different matter, but protocol got the better of me.

Afterwards, down at the 'Scoff and Swallie', the sight of the Christmas tree was, as ever, the stimulus for a reflection on the dairy year.  Of course it's been a curate's egg. The protests, the weather and the feed input costs have been the downside. The restructuring of the processing sector and the work on pricing formulae and the voluntary code have been the positives. There is now much focus on forward strategy. It's why I had been at the NFU earlier in the week. Rightly, the focus is on exports and if there are profitable opportunities they must be exploited. But it's the short term position that is of more immediate concern. There now appears to be a disconnect, indeed a significant one, between the UK milk price and the market. The dangers that lurk behind this are considerable, but on two occasions in recent weeks I've seen warning lights flagged up, and almost instantly poo poohed. But the dangers are real, and it will be a great pity if the message only gets across with the transfer of business out of the UK. The extra milk that everyone is craving for at present won't be needed if that happens.

Next week there are a couple of important meetings. First at Defra when the new Farm Minister meets the dairy industry collectively for the first time. But the agenda doesn't look to me to like it will engender a discussion on the real topics, and already the meeting has been cut short because of other pressures. Two days later in Brussels the Commission's biannual examination of the markets takes place. I'll be there and listening avidly to the experts. The last time they met, their forecasts were spot on. I expect the same again. I'll let you know what they say.

Back at the Pudding Club, DairyCo chairman Tim Bennett shared with us the fact that he'd once pursued Suggs for his autograph when he met him on a train out of Paddington Station. Madness, eh? Well, as a result of this I've now decided on Tim's Christmas present. It'll be a new sign for above the door at DairyCo. 'Welcome to the House of Fun'. I think that fits perfectly.

Friday 30th November

It's off to Poundland this weekend to do my Christmas shopping. Their screwdriver set, carefully divided up, will give hours of satisfaction for all my family. And it will complement perfectly last year's divvy up of the set of spanners. Yes, the pleasure is definitely in the giving. But hold on. I've just been given a copy of the 2013 make mine Milk calendar. Very very saucy….well, some of the recipes inside are. And it comes with a nice letter from MMF overlord Santa Wilkie. 'Pixie loves hot chocolate' is one caption. Ho ho ho…don't we all, I say. I have no doubt that come Christmas morning there will be a liberal sprinkling of saucy calendars in the Wilkie household. And it may even feature as a stocking filler chez moi. Generous or what? I know, but you can't take it with you, can you!

Friday 23rd November

The tyranny of obesity has afflicted even the Western Isles of Scotland - surely the purest part of the UK in terms of local product sourcing. Most families can find the ingredients for a hearty Sunday lunch in their own back garden.  And have a choice of chicken, lamb or pork. My brother in law is no exception. A retired medical physician, most of his conversations these days are with his chickens, and they are not fussy about how he dresses. But an impending visit to the big city forced him to review his wardrobe. Nothing fitted - not even to let him get to Matalan for a new couture. I've referred him to the Queen Bee for dietary advice. It will certainly differ from that given to the hapless Alex Corbisiero, scheduled to play in the English pack tomorrow against South Africa at Twickers. Today he has been telling the national media that he got fit by giving up dairy products. Alex, are you sure? You could find yourself spineless and limp willed, a human carpet trampled over by the likes of Eben Etzebeth and Francois Louw; and I confidently predict you could be substituted at half time. Avoid all that Alex, and have a lump of cheese.

In the same vein, my eye of suspicion was raised by the statement from Alpro this week that more than 5m adults in the UK choose not to consume dairy products. Alpro are superb marketers, but in my view, they may be poor mathematicians. Dairy products go into 98% of British households. So it's a reasonable hypothesis that milk is consumed by 98% of British adults? So the number of adults who 'choose' not to consume dairy products is probably much less than the 5m claimed - although we will seek advice on those numbers. Alpro's stats are used to support carefully chosen insinuations about the health integrity of dairy products. These insinuations flirt with the chasm of unsupportable health claims and demonstrate once again that in the murky world of advertising, science and facts seldom get in the way of a good story.

Inspiration this week came in the form of participation at an international forum of aspirants, all seeking to find the pot of gold at the end of the global dairy demand growth rainbow. A dairy orchestra from Ireland, France, Germany and the Netherlands conducted magnificently by the great Gallic master of dairy analysis, Benoît Rouyer, provided a range of future critical paths towards bringing home the bacon.  Benoît was in superb form. I had last seen him a couple of weeks ago manfully struggling to chair an economics session against the countervailing force of an overeager microphone floorwalker who wouldn't let him get a word in. He had to wrestle her to the floor to get control of the session back. But here he was on home turf.

The dairy experts matched their national characteristics. The Irish were realistic. The Germans were constructive. The Dutch were proud, and the French were defiant. All had a common view about dairy processors - they had to be more innovative, take more risks, be more successful at winning markets, and show more leadership. In other words, they had to change. When Benoît asked them all about what farmers had to do, they all anticipated little change in farming structures. "No" to larger farms. "Yes" to the retention of the family farm unit which is the bedrock of European agriculture. That surprised me. Surely if the opportunities of the future are to be won, then change has to be on a supply chain basis, not just on part of it. That's how it's viewed outside the EU. I think it has to be one of our mantras too.

The evening before the seminar I had exploited the coincidence that the legendary boogie rockers Status Quo were performing at the local palais. I was the youngest person there, but despite that, I had trouble the next day finding any fellow "Quovadisti" to swap stories with. Except, that is for the great Udo Hemmerling, who as you know is the German Peter Kendall and is in the eyes of many, the world's most visionary farming leader. He is a Quo fanatic and word perfect on many of the songs. So another global supply chain alliance was formed instantly, and to Udo and all his farming colleagues I can only repeat the message of our musical masters - just take my hand, together we can rock and roll.

Friday 16th November

In my view, a question is only a question if it's delivered physically from a pair of lips, thereby attaching it to an identity. The only criticism I had of the IDF event in South Africa was that for the most part, questions had to be submitted electronically, and anonymously, from a little hand held computer to the session chair. This was hopeless because you lost the intonation and flavour. Sure, the words in the question count, as anyone in Scotland looking forward to the referendum will tell you. But at a conference the expression, and who's asking, are vital ingredients. Notwithstanding the fact that working out how to use the little computer in SA vexed many. I learned from one speaker that 74% of dairy farmers in Uruguay had no formal education beyond primary school. So, as far as I'm aware, no Uruguayan dairy farmers submitted questions at the session.

In this new world of electronic conferencing, idle minds like mine go into overdrive. One, shall we say 'technical' session in the economics conference was being chaired by my mate, the globally famous, supercool Sarah Paterson from Fonterra. So I dashed off an anonymous question "Sarah let's go out for dinner tonight. Just give me a few minutes to pop back to my room to get some after-shave". Turns out everyone else was doing the same. No-one it seems wanted to know more about the supply management systems being proposed by American farmers in the new Farm Bill. Everyone was submitting wise cracks similar to mine.  A few minutes later I followed my question up with another – "Come on, Sarah. Is it a yes or a no?". I have no doubt that if she'd said yes from the platform, 20 people in the audience would have come forward to own up – all of them profusely exuding the 'Lynx effect'.

Anyway, in your interests, I departed from character and I asked a question last night at the Institute of Food Science and Technology (IFST) annual lecture in London. It was to Dr Susan Jebb OBE, eminent medical nutritionist, co-chair of the Department of Health's Responsibility Deal, and guardian of the nation's waistlines. I have occasionally disagreed with some of Susan's perspectives on things in the past, but there's no doubting she was on top form last night. Of the various contributors to obesity, she lays the blame squarely on the shoulders of diet. She passionately believes that the food system is not working to address obesity, and she makes a very compelling case to justify her beliefs. In her various quasi Government roles, she is also in a position to do something about it.

She is an advocate of the principle of 'nudging'. I think that's what you or I might loosely call choice editing. She calls it choice architecture. I think it's the same thing, but she admits to being uncertain about which nudges were the most effective. So I asked her about Health Claims. That's a nudging strategy isn't it? Would the new legislation, applicable from next month, where food manufacturers had a greater incentive to invest in marketing than science help or hinder the fight against obesity. She answered the question. I almost didn't hear her, not really expecting a reply. She said that responsible food manufacturers shouldn't have to rely on health claims. The impact would depend on how manufacturers would react individually and she had a high expectation that they would react responsibly in terms of their product formulation. I think she's right and she's wrong at the same time. Ask food manufacturers to be responsible - yes. Ask them to reformulate – yes. But ask them to keep quiet about the value of their products to the wellbeing of consumers, I hope that she'll think again.

Friday 9th November

Two giants were voted into Presidential office this week. Barack Obama became President of the United States, and Jeremy Hill became President of the International Dairy Federation. Both positions have broadly equal challenges. If anything, Jeremy has a slight advantage. For a start, he has no previous. Secondly, his predecessor was a top cookie. Richard Doyle completed his shift this week with respect and appreciation all round. And he didn't even wear a kilt. Doyley's first love is building up higher and higher barricades around Canada's milk pricing system, and he can now go back to that with a deserved glow of satisfaction. This was a job well done.

A third giant at the IDF's megahooley in Cape Town is unlikely ever to become President, despite being, by general acclaim, the person best qualified to be so. Helen Zille, Premier of the Western Cape and leader of South Africa's Democratic Alliance party, impressed her audience at the closing dinner with a flood of inspirational rhetoric about the value of agriculture to society and her unswerving pursuit of democracy. Her oratory earned her a standing ovation. Then, can you believe it, she strutted , catwalk style, in front of the cheering galleries to show off her stunning ball frock. I spotted Jeremy Hill taking careful notes, but Jeremy, you just don't have the legs.

This climax eclipsed a sorry start to the dinner, when squatters had to be evicted from the British table. When Wakey Wakeling broke the news to me I thought 'Uhuh, it must be Farmers for Action'. But Wakey's face was rapt with consternation. 'I'm not worried about removing them", he said, "I'm worried about how you're going to do it". Anyway, Wakey's patient diplomacy eventually paid off. An international incident was averted and I avoided being packed off on the first boat to Robbin Island. Yip, Wakey was good with the squatters. I wonder what he would be like with blockades.

As for the conference itself, I have uniquely chosen an 'ipse dixit' format to communicate what, for me, were the most interesting comments, good and not so good. So here goes. I hope you like them:

Milk offers us the possibility of improving the lives of our children. They should have a box of milk every day. Tina Joemat-Pettersson, South African Minister of Agriculture

It's just been reported that in Australia there is a serious calcium deficiency in teenage girls. How is traffic light labelling going to address that? Joop Kleibeuker, DG, European Dairy Association

When you operate in a protected market system, you lose the skills of managing volatility. These have to be revisited. Nicola Shadbolt. Director, Fonterra

We must produce food for food and not for ethanol, because this is killing the business. Nicola Shadbolt. Director, Fonterra

I support milk consumption. It's well known that consuming milk and dairy products reduces fertility in women. It is therefore a good way of restricting the growth in the African population. - Anonymous Russian Delegate

In my opinion, we put too much emphasis on milk quality. This is because it's costly, and could make dairy products unaffordable. Deepak Tiku, Chairman: National Dairy Development Board Of India

Our most efficient factories worldwide are also the ones which produce the highest quality products - Thierry Philardeau, Nestlé, France

We need to be more confident about promoting the virtues of our products. I sometimes feel that our marketers don't know enough about what our products can offer. There is a disconnect between our scientists and our marketers. Cees 't Hart: CEO, Royal Friesland Campina

It is right that carbon sequestration should offset carbon emissions, but organisations such as the FAO refuse to credit this to dairy farmers. It's a data issue. The scientists can't agree on the methodology. Sophie Bertrand: Cniel, France

Cohort studies show that there is a 4% reduction in the incidence of death amongst high milk consumers. As one of the oldest members of the audience, and very focused on survival, I find this statistic most interesting. Professor Peter Elwood. Cardiff University

It's not the feed costs of the most efficient farmer that drives the world price. It's the feed costs of the most inefficient. Torsten Hemme: IFCN, Germany

I'm writing this in Cape Town airport, from where I'll soon be leaving on a jet plane. Twelve hours of economy splendour lie ahead of me. How I wish I'd followed the advice of a colleague from New Zealand who unfailingly gets upgraded on every flight he takes. How does he do it? Simple. On the website of his favoured airline, where he is asked to identify his 'status', he ignores the options of Mr, Mrs etc, and ticks the box marked 'Lord'. Works every time. I consider it a reward for innovation. We need more of this in the dairy industry.

Friday 2nd November

Let's get things into perspective right from the start. South Africa is a ....'different' country. Here, for example, the badgers chase the lions, and everyone eats rusks. Go on an animal welfare political platform and no-one will listen to you. New council houses are built with outside toilets which have no walls or roofs. Yes, 'different', I think, is the best way to describe it.

Yet, nevertheless, it's a wonderful country, and I absolutely love it. So wonderful that it's sometimes hard to believe the crazy things that happen here. Look at the outrage in the UK this week when William Hague was fingered for sanctioning a bill of £10k to have a snake stuffed. Here, the President has 5 wives. Each wedding cost a fortune and the taxpayer covers annual 'spousal expenses' of more than £1m. The poverty gap is staggering. My taxi driver lived in a township. He had lost most of his house the week before in the storms which ravaged the Cape area. I thought he'd be devastated. He was in fact delighted. Because he was also a builder and the storms had created months of work. When I first came to South Africa around 15 years ago, I urged people to visit it before it was too late, because I thought things were going to get more difficult. Somehow my advice still seems relevant. If you've never been here, do it while you can. Who knows when things might change.

As I write, 1,400 of the world's dairy cognoscenti are coming in on every train, boat and plane that arrives in town. They are the men and women who hold the keys to the treasure chests of gold and silver that is the dairy industry's future. It will be a parade of champions without doubt, and I expect them to be cautiously optimistic but feeling battered by the events of the last year. I know that's how they feel because that's exactly how you feel isn't it? And they are no different from you.

I also know, because I am in the fortunate position of being the summariser of a survey conducted by the IDF every six months which takes the economic pulse of the industry worldwide. So I know in advance how everyone is feeling. I'm presenting the findings to the world's dairy economists tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. On a Saturday, because that's what Rangers supporters do now on Saturdays! But Dairy UK members deserve to hear it first. So here is my three point assessment of what the world has told me.

First, our future is very much weather dependent. We can focus all we like on big issues like land use, environmental compliance, and even the sufficiency or otherwise of the rewards passed down the supply chain to the primary producer. But our ability for our production to keep pace with our demand growth will be all about the weather and its impact on production cycles.

Second, the world's dairy industry is on the cusp of change. After a relatively quiet period, investment in scaling up, rationalising resources and forming international partnerships is on the rise. The industry is preparing for its future. You get the sense that now is the time to take the big financial decisions. Failure to do so now may take you right out of the picture.

Thirdly, the big issue of regulation or free market continues to perplex the world. My take, based largely on my observation of the industries in the US, Norway and Canada, is that regulation will make your industry sustainable, but it will never make you rich. Taxpayers won't allow

Friday 26th October

A new Dairy UK love child has been born in Australia. More or less nine months after my last visit there, a glaring gap has been filled with the democratic acceptance by NSW farmers that a new body straddling all parts of the supply chain will step up the battle in defence of their interests. If they'd had any conscience at all they would have called the new organisation Jimmy. Instead, Dairy Connect NSW seems an appropriate second best.  I comfort myself with the knowledge that Dairy Connect NSW has been moulded and delivered by Messrs. Davey and Drury – both giants on the global dairy network. Indeed, seasoned warhorses wouldn't understate their status. And I know that both have learned at the feet of a master. So, above all else, I know that both understand the absolute value of modesty.

I wish this exciting development all the very best for the future. They have chosen the right path because collaboration, and not confrontation, will definitely win in the end. So what would the Dairy Connect NSW attitude be, I wonder, to the disappointing development in the UK this week which saw the re-emergence of the blockading of a dairy plant by Farmers for Action. This, against the background of a new code of practice on farm contracts, the ink on which is not yet dry; more money coming from the supply chain; rising milk prices; and serious efforts by dairy companies to embrace new pricing mechanisms which will give dairy farmers greater involvement in price determination. Guys, if you think that this is helping the British dairy industry, or its focused determination to displace imports and develop export led growth, it's not. All it needs is more, responsible, people to come forward and say so.

Another bad week for the scientists I'm afraid, and this on the eve of that great convocation of global dairy science, the annual sessions of the International Dairy Federation in South Africa. This week simplicity was put ahead of science with the UK decision to make traffic lights the flagship vehicle for communicating health messages to consumers. Simultaneously, politics was put ahead of science, with the UK debate in Parliament on the badger cull. Largely irrelevant of course since the cull had been postponed, but still 147 MPs voted for sentiment and not for science. Last week, as I reported, emotion was put ahead of science as we continued the discussions on large scale farming. And to crown it all, some upfront porkies were put ahead of science by WSPA in the Metro campaign against intensive farming. All of this moved the sage of the FDF, young Terry Jones to tweet "Are we in danger of living in some sort of #foodmuseum if we continue to stand in the way of progress in food and farming?"

How many more things are going to be put ahead of science in winning the hearts and minds of consumers? And what can we do about it? This should be uppermost in the minds of our global dairy scientists as they board their sailing ships and berth down on the long trip south to Cape Town. I've always said that proven science is never the end of the story, it's only the start. But somehow, dairy science has got to become more sexy in influencing consumers. So my clarion call to the scientists in Cape Town next week will be to get out of bed in the morning, look at yourself in the mirror, and say out loud to yourself "I know I'm clever. I know I'm right. But am I sexy enough to make people believe me?" And if you are not happy with the answer, you'll find me with the global economists, ever happy to give advice.

Finally, many congratulations to my fellow countryman and king milko Bob 'Ernie' Young, for many years without challenge as the fastest milkman in the East…………of Wollongong in NSW that is. Now gone from the industry and driven out by the iniquitous $ for a litre policy of the supermarkets in Oz, Bob last week received the prestigious Honorary Membership of Amalgamated Milk Vendors Association Inc, by unanimous accord a much deserved accolade. Bob is also the person in the world who knows almost as much as me about 70's pop music. And Bob, 'Mississippi' by Pussycat was definitely the greatest song from that era. Of course if anyone disagrees…………………..!

Friday 19th October

Belgium v Scotland. Tuesday night. Where did I watch the match? From behind the couch, like every other Scotland supporter. My mood didn't lighten until Thursday when I got some excellent advice from a long standing and respected member of the House of Commons. I'd received this, shall we say, 'critical' letter, you see. And I'd been wondering what to do about it. "What I do", said the Rt Hon, "is parcel it up and send it back to them. Tell them that someone is using their name and sending out libellous correspondence which couldn't possibly be from them, because you know them to be fine fellows. You wanted to make them aware of it, to avoid their future embarrassment". Good advice, eh? So to my correspondent from Cheshire, my reply is winging its way back to you, as we speak.

I could, of course, adopt a new identity. I had the opportunity on Wednesday when I had a small speaking engagement at a London function. The host of the event introduced me as the CEO of DairyCo. No, I thought. I couldn't handle the responsibility of all that money. But he then went on to heap the most effusive praise on me for the assistance DairyCo had given to his project, building me up to be a hero of 'Felix from the stratosphere' proportions. I began to think that maybe I could get away with this. The sight of the DairyCo PR collective in front of me, having read my mind, and now stretched out horizontally with laughter, brought me, just like Felix, back down to earth. The pleasure was fleeting.  But I could get used to it.

I'm always looking for common themes, and I found one threading through what, for me, have been this week's three major events. I was intrigued by my invitation to the 'Can big be beautiful?' seminar. All I knew for sure was it couldn't be another of the Queen Bee's anti obesity seminars. But it was in fact a mighty fine, totally convincing, exposition by David Alvis and Amy Jackson of the case for large scale dairy farms. So convincing, that it was taken up and almost replicated by the prince of parliamentary articulacy, ex-cabinet minister Michael Jack, at a private dinner in the House of Commons two days later.  This is work in progress and I hope it succeeds.

The second event was the decision by Sainsbury's to drop the Red Tractor logo in their stores. "Deeply disappointing" was the reaction from AFS, the owners of the logo, and so say all of us.  Their statement went on to highlight the popularity of the logo amongst British farmers.

The third event was the squaring up of the forces for and against a badger cull designed to curb the spread of TB. This event dominated the social media throughout the week, but the first(ish) of several battle grounds will be the House of Commons next week, with a six hour Parliamentary debate. No matter how brave a face the 'for' camp, which includes Dairy UK, put on it, a parliamentary debate is a challenge.

The common thread running through all of these is that they are all 'us and them' issues. 'Us' is the industry and 'them' are the industry's customers. And we will only be able to deliver our objectives in each of these three very important areas if we present them in terms of the benefits to 'them' and not to 'us'. I'm not sure we're absolutely doing that at present in the single minded way that's necessary. We have to remain unswervingly with the focus that we are a consumer, and not a production, led industry. That's the only way we are going to win these important battles.

Nor can we desist from challenging the sometimes extremist and irrational views of the opponents of scientific developments in farming.  The future of farming depends on its scientific development. This must be at the core of its future profitability. It is also the right direction for society in general, and the countryside in particular. Producing food in sufficient quantities, and of appropriate nutritional balance, has now become a pressing imperative. It can no longer be inhibited by minority crusades which glue up the works. That's why the work on 'Can big be beautiful?', in particular, is so incredibly important.

Friday 12th October

See a penny, pick it up. All that day you'll have good luck. So my good fortune of having a wonderful week of education and learning is down to the fact that on Monday morning I found a 50p piece on the platform at Waterloo station. Plus the fact that I only had to knock over three people to get to it first!

It started with The Dairy Council's fantastic seminar on milk and sport, where an endless stream of scientists, sports coaches, and academic nutritionists, lined up to tell us how the world's elite athletes are gurgling down gallons of milk after exercise, in order to aid recovery. Time we had a milk machine at the top of the stairs in the office, I think.

Then Dairy UK's standing room only conference on Johne's Disease, which took place the day before I was required to visit the BBC TV's Westminster studios where I was speaking about future industry competitiveness. I went to great lengths there to explain that cost management was a whole industry responsibility, not just on farms. But following the Johne's seminar it was farms I was thinking about. British farmers regularly tell me I know nothing about anything because I've never milked a cow. So, on the assumption for the time being that they are correct, let me try explain it in stark terms from the gallery of the uninformed.

On the one hand, dairy farmers can look to the market to improve their margin. Markets do what markets do. They are outside the control of dairy farmers. Until recently they haven't been doing too well. Alternatively, these same farmers could focus on Johne's disease and mastitis. This is something that they can control and doing so could, according to the experts (who include Ben Bartlett from the NMR, tv personality vet Dick Sibley, and the mystical Soren Nielsen from Denmark), rocket up dairy farmer margins by as much as 10p a litre. I'll leave that one with you to contemplate.

So, as you can tell, these Johne's experts impressed me this week and so, miraculously, did our nation's agricultural journalists who, for the purpose of social engagement, professional discourse and general bonhomie, organise themselves under the charmingly quaint collective title of "The Guild". The only other "Guild" I know is the Lollypop Guild in the Wizard of Oz, but it's hard to find meaningful comparisons. The unchallengeable jewel in the Guild's crown is the annual Harvest Festival in St Bride's church in Fleet Street, followed by lunch. The church service is important, because in my view journalists can't get enough religion. But it is a truly splendid event, and listening to the world renowned St Bride's choir and its angelic soprano Claire Seaton, is a genuinely uplifting experience.

And as I cast my eye around the assembled congregation, I surmised that this is indeed one sector of our industry where women play a genuinely equal role. Possibly even a dominant role, given that both the editorial positions of our main agricultural newspapers are held by women. And these women, although fierce competitors in the market place, I often find at events like this closeted together in corners chatting amiably. What can they be discussing I wonder? Surely it can't be the relative merits of Preston North End v Crawley Town? When I see this happening I always try and invade their privacy, but I have become accustomed to being charmingly dismissed with facial expressions which say "This is a woman's world now, mate. Get used to it". Yes, there are still occasions in life when you can feel pain and pleasure at the same time.

Whatever, it was a pleasure to sit amongst them at the lunch and listen to the man who, in my view, is the real people's farming champion in the UK. They, like me, heard Adam Henson advise his fellow hacks to carry the message and report on the positives, but not to 'fan the flames of controversy'. Wise words and good advice, in my view.  Every time I see him I understand more why the Countryfile audience has increased from more than 2m per week to 7-9 m per week. He says it's the issues. Sure that's correct, but a big factor is him. The boss holds him in awe. She's not alone. He's a genuine celebrity and nowadays where celebrities lead, the rest of us follow.

On a more serious note (as if!), it seems to me that the issue now for farm journalism is how to master social media. At the lunch I sat close to Caroline Stocks, the doyen of agricultural tweeters and an acknowledged professor in the science of instantism. I watched and learned as she expertly tweeted the key points of Henson's speech and simultaneously followed her on my i phone. So there's little point now, a day later, in repeating these points. Indeed, what more information does anyone need? It's an important issue for our agricultural journalists.

I'm off now to study a powerful speech yesterday from Australian PM Julia Gillard on the future role of women in business. The boss tells me I can learn from it. I am absolutely in no doubt whatsoever that I can.

Friday 5th October

I am reporting live from the showstopping spectacle of London's premier farming social event of 2012. All around me are the glitterati of the industry. Winners are everywhere. Heroes. Leaders. Champions. As far as I can see, no-one influential or significant is absent. I feel humble in this company. So where am I? Well I'm sure you've guessed it. I'm at the 80th birthday celebrations of Roland Williams at the Farmers Club.

Roland Williams was the chief economist at the Milk Marketing Board (MMB) for nearly forty years. As such, he was at the core of every major policy decision taken by what is without challenge the most successful agricultural marketing organisation ever. A model copied throughout the world, and still in place in many areas. So, through all the challenges faced by the UK dairy industry, the New Zealand butter quota transition, the UK entry to the EEC, the defence of the principle of differential pricing which extracts the maximum for the farmer from the different market place values of milk, and much much more, he was the principle architect within the team. And, as I say, the team were all there to pay homage with me.  Industry giants including Jackson, Bessey, Brown, Hurrell, and Wright…all men to whom the British milk producers from the 1960s onwards, owed so much. Farmers nowadays say these were the halcyon days, and we should go back to them. But of course that's wrong. The MMB operated in a regulatory framework and our future is the free market. But what a line up.

As an LSE trained economist, Roland benefitted from the consummate advantage of being a round peg in a round hole.  Some economists live in ivory towers and, frankly, if at his MMB job interview he had been asked the banal standard question of 'what can you do for this organisation' he might never have been employed. But the first question Roland was asked was 'Tell me your views on the Keynsian theory of money, interest rates and inflation'. He was straight into his comfort zone, and UK milk producers have been the ultimate beneficiaries. During the years, he wrote lots of publications. I've got them all in my office and still look at them. If you went to him with a mind-blowingly complex problem he would look at you and out came his catchphrase 'it's quite simple really……" Wonderful.  At 80 he's as sharp as ever. So are the rest of 'the team'.  As the industry today looks to the possibility of producer organisations, where better to go to for advice?

Later, in the evening I meandered over to the cacophonous Bacchanalian extravaganza which the Farmers Weekly 'Farmer of the Year' awards at the Grosvenor has become. This event has now reached European standards in terms of 'kissiness'. I was kissed by everyone (including David Handley) and without question a new world record was set for the acreage of cleavage on display on a single dance floor. Visually, the electronic light show was dazzling, featuring as its centrepiece videos of the candidates for the awards. One showed a farmer gyrating in front of his Massey Ferguson. I asked someone what he was doing. "Oh, he's trying to rekindle his relationship with his girlfriend. He's been told he has to do something sexy to a tractor. (Ed: read it again, slowly).

Seb Coe was there. What an entrance. But the star above the platform shone brightest when the indefatigable Jim Paice strode up to claim the award of Farmer's Champion, to an ovation reminiscent of Lady Gaga. His acceptance speech was Churchillian, evoking even more hoorahs and applause. So what next for Gentleman Jim? He told the audience he didn't know, but I notice that today is the 50th anniversary of the release of the first James Bond movie. So on behalf of the entire British farming community I say, move over Daniel Craig…there's a new man parachuting into town.

3am home, 8am back at work. This must be the life of a dairy farmer I thought. But the day ahead will end in Belfast paying homage to yet another monumental champion of the Northern Ireland dairy industry, the great Stanley Wedlock. Stanley is one of those rare breed who attain legend status in their lifetime.  He is noted for many things, including the phrase "die dog, or eat the hatchet".  I suspect few people have any idea what this means, but maybe that's the best way to retire – leave them wondering.  Have a long and good one Stanley.

Friday 28th September

For a price, great management consultants will tell you that solving difficult questions is not about finding the right answers. It's about asking the right questions. Sitting in seat 2D on a flight out of Edinburgh this week, the steward asked me if I was in the right seat. I had to fight back the impulse to say to him "2D or not 2D. That is the question!"

I was heading out from The Dairy Council's highly successful teachers' seminar in Scotland where I was speaking on the subject of the impact of food on the environment. It was the issue of food waste that was perplexing the audience. Frankly it perplexes me as well. The statistics are mind blowing. We throw away a third of the food we produce. Yes, a third. An unbelievable third. In the UK we waste 170,000 tonnes of dairy products each year, 99% of which is avoidable. All over the place we are trying to provide answers to the question "What can we do to reduce this?" In my view, the real question is "Why do people waste food?"

I think it's a modern phenomenon. Kitchen management just isn't what it used to be, especially in posh houses. When I lived in Scotland I was never part of the posh community. But, mixing with people who were, like Kirk of the North, I learn that back in the day it was considered polite to leave food at the side of your plate as a compliment to the cook. At the same time, Kirk tells me that his mother never threw anything out. Questionable groceries had to walk out of the fridge themselves before they came anywhere near the classification of dodgy. And even then they ended up as soup. Many's the night Kirk's family enjoyed a tasty plate of yogurt broth, or perhaps some mince and melon consommé in the summer. Now, Kirk's wife, like mine and so many others, uses remote robotic probes to test the microbial resistance in the butter before she'll even open the fridge door to fetch poor Kirk a lager after a hard day's graft. Times have changed with the modern housewife. And it's the environment that's paying the price.

Of course that's a personal view, and perhaps the boss, who holds strong views on this subject, is right. She rebuffs my opinion that if food waste was an Olympic sport, then her trophy cabinet would be fuller than Chris Hoy's. She says it's the restaurants and their portion sizes that are the problem. Either they make you obese, or they accelerate the land fill problem. Sort them out and you solve two problems at once. Hmm! Wise words or outright denial? Whatever, education is of course, as always, the answer, and that's what the Queen Bee's Scottish seminar did so much to promote this week.

Meanwhile, over in Ljubljana, the European Dairy Association (EDA) wrestled over a difficult farming issue. Should there be a flat rate single farm payment post CAP Reform or not? The EDA is a processor organisation and remains doggedly determined to stay so. Fair enough, as long as you can manage the risk of becoming an island in the supply chain. And, of course, you recognise that you can become marooned on an island...EU Dairy Package etc etc. Anyway, why should this issue trouble the EDA? Well, because the final decision will prejudice the viability of dairy farming, prevent growth and affect the milk supply, and processors are concerned about this. The real cause of the vexation, of course, is that a move to a flat rate would discriminate across member states.

To me, the solution is simple. Ask the farmers. If that's who we are concerned about, then let's simply support their views. I am advised that for the same reasons, the European farming organisations are similarly vexed. This is undoubtedly a toughie. It's not about principles, it's about winners and losers, and policy formulation is hard when you're not starting from a blank piece of paper. But, for sure, this is becoming the major issue of the CAP Reform package, and so some compromising thinkers have to get their minds around this. Because there's no doubt that while the industry seas are parted, the chariot of Mr Ciolos will come charging right through.

I'm writing this in a little place in Slovenia called Perano. I exited the EDA Board meeting and came to the coast from Ljubljana as much to avoid a second night in a malfunctioning hotel as anything else. The journey was enough to convince me that Slovenia is a truly beautiful country, similar to Scotland, but craggier. Perano also has a monastic quality. It's a kind of Saltcoats with soul! The boss skyped me and I showed her a view of the sea. Our next exchange was mutually embarrassing. She, a former geography teacher, said "what sea is it?" I, shockingly, replied "I don't know. It's hard to tell by looking at it". As I said before, education....it's never ever wasted.

Friday 21st September

Friday, and for the fifth successive day, the sun is streaming through the windows at Dairy UK. There's been so much of it, it has formed a luxurious carpet throughout the office. So for all of us this week, we've been walking on sunshine. It makes you feel good.

Sunshine helps you meet the challenges of the week…such as how to pronounce the word baccalaureate! It also helps you to look at things from the bright side. Take new farm minister David Heath, for example. He observed wryly this week that his public stance on the badger cull had generated his first ever 'death threat'. However, he took comfort from the fact that this particular correspondent had kindly added his name and address to the foot of his letter. Well done, David, that's the way to look at things.

Sunshine is such a rare commodity for a Scotsman that we never do anything to protect ourselves from its effects. I've never known a Scottish person to use sun screen for example. And we certainly never wear sunglasses…unless, like Craig Levein, you have something to hide. But as with everything you can have too much of a good thing and by Wednesday I'd had my fill. Where could I go to bring some, eh, perspective, back into the front of mind? Downing St and the PM's lunch was a possibility.

As I swaggered in, the first people I met were Matt Baker and Adam Henson from Countryfile. This is not a programme I watch very much, Sunday nights normally being the preserve of Serie A for all couch potatoes like me. But these guys sparkled with personality, enthusiasm and knowledge. I saw immediately why Countryfile has transformed the attitude of the British public towards farming (Australian colleagues who laughed at my advice last time I was out there take careful note). And the PM himself was equally supportive and optimistic, seeing dairy as a crucial player in the drive to increase trade. "How can we export more, and how can the Government help?" he asked. This got me thinking about the events of the previous couple of days.

Because during this time I had been trying to get Defra assistance to resolve a serious export administrative problem on behalf of a Dairy UK member. A long standing exporter, with great potential for more, was unable to sell their excellent products overseas as a consequence of what appeared to me to be a bureaucratic hiccough. As I delved deeper and deeper, moving into higher and higher echelons of the Defra hierarchy, I began to realise that staff shortages and, on the face of it, complications between central Government and local authority approval processes, were combining to create frustrations all along the chain. As I write, the issue is being looked at seriously, but is so far unresolved, so the dairy company is not yet able to access an important export market. My point is this: as an industry, we want to be responsible for our own future, with minimum regulation. That's our choice. But where Government has an aspiration for more, and where Defra play a part, they must provide the resources to match their aspirations.

For those of you with the patience to have read the whole of this piece, I bet you you're still humming the Katrina and the Waves classic mentioned in the first paragraph. That's the effect that sunshine has. The question for me now is will there be any of it next week in Ljubljana, the only place in the world to have 'love' in its name, twice. That's where I'm going to mingle with my fellow sunbeams who are the powerhouses of the European dairy industry to study, learn and bring back good Slovenian ideas. The question for you is how many points can you get for Ljubljana on the Scrabble board? Answers on a postcard. Usual address!

Friday 14th September

New Farm Minister David Heath passed his first Parliamentary scrutiny with flying colours. At least he did in my eyes. Constantly being reminded by the 30 or so contributions from the MPs who spoke before him in Thursday's Westminster Hall dairy debate that he had a hard act to follow, he was the first, after two and three quarter hours, to utter the word 'market'. Courageously, he then went on to stress the importance of the industry addressing its costs. So, after five minutes in the job, he has grasped succinctly the two key factors influencing the future of the industry, the market and competitiveness.

Blessed with the gift of understanding, the rest of it should be a cakewalk. And on his side he has the advantage of starting at the bottom. The summer of discontent is over, and to celebrate his arrival, two major dairy companies announced milk price increases. On top of this, he will reap the benefit of the positives from the implementation of the Code of Practice, and possibly from the Groceries Code Adjudicator.  So, walking in the door, he has been dealt a Royal flush. If he plays his cards right, the only way is up.

But that was all this week. Next week, and for the foreseeable future, the Minister will start to be under pressure as the badger cull issue moves from the courts to be the focus of public attention in the media. I had raised the issue with him earlier in the week and had requested that he keep his resolve during what could be a potentially awkward consumer scrutiny. I was pretty satisfied that he would, but he'll need help. So it's up to all the organisations for whom this issue is so important to back him when the going gets tough, as it assuredly will. We've had plenty of warning. Now it's time to deliver.

And as summer switches through autumn to winter, so surplus turns to deficit. At least in the UK and Ireland that is. On the face of it, a 4% drop in milk production in August compared with the previous year is bad news, but the silver lining on this particular cloud is that the simple laws of supply and demand should eventually bear fruit in the market place, if backed up by similar trends in world markets. It's a pity that these same laws apply to input costs as well as market returns, and the feed price remains a worry. But price cycles are what they are, and as we're beginning to see, what goes down eventually comes up. This is the way of it now, and there's no getting away from that – another reality which seemed to escape all the contributors in the Westminster debate. But already, with the ink hardly dry on the Voluntary Code of Practice, I see innovation flooding out from the dairy companies as they declare themselves dedicated to finding pricing mechanisms to address these issues. So it has been a positive week all round.

Finally, glowing tributes from this column go to Robert Wiseman, departing Dairy UK Chairman after two years of steering the organisation through a dynamic period of change. Robert, it has been a pleasure and gratifying for me that I'm the only person who persuaded you to wear a tie….once…..briefly. But every little helps. Also to Rex Ward, winner of Dairy UK's prestigious Annual Award this year and soon to retire as chair of Dairy UK's Farmers Forum. This is not always an easy role, but Rex has filled it superbly and deserves much credit. And to ex Dairy UK Board Member Tim Smith as he moves from CEO of the FSA to become a big cheese in one of the country's leading retailers. We have greatly valued Tim's stewardship of the FSA over the past four years and look forward to a continuing co-operation with him in his new role. I have suggested to him that his first innovation could be to follow the FSA custom and practice by televising live his new company's Board meetings. Good idea, eh? We've got lots of them at Dairy UK.

Friday 7th September

Every time I come to the Emerald Isle, I never want to leave. I'm in Cork, and when Irish eyes are smiling....! I've come to study their future. In truth I heard that Jim Paice was coming here later in the month, and I wanted to be prepared for his next foray. I speak for the entire UK dairy industry in regretting his departure. And I'm bewildered by the murky machinations of the British political system. It's like our sports teams. Do a good job and very soon they'll chop you down at the knees. He plugged the trust gap in the industry, you see. And you know what happens when you pull the plug on anything……? He was philosophical when I spoke to him. Referring to the Code of Practice finalisation he said, 'at least I went out on a high'. You certainly did Jim, and our proud industry is so much better for your contribution.

After spending a few days at Dairy UK's Sorrento office it's been just another routine week for me....a fight with an Olympic boxing champion, an invitation to lunch with the Prime Minister, and a two page personal communication from someone who believes I'm the devil incarnate and desperately wants me to be an unemployment statistic. I turned the page over quickly to see if it was from the Dairy UK Chairman. Phew! At least I've got another month. As I say, a routine week, really.

The Livestock Event seemed quiet to me. Not so the Dairy UK conference, where our eminent industry journalists jousted with the audience with only me as the session chair, to protect their integrity...the audience, that is. The mellifluous Julie Glotz of The Grocer advised us sagely to pay more attention to the consumer. She's right.  Alistair Driver from Farmers Guardian was drawn into a confession that his newspaper backed blockades, arguing that the ends justified the means. He's wrong. There's no future for us if the strategy accommodates blockades. Worryingly, he's not the only eminent establishment figure to believe this. I sat quivering in my seat as Farmers Weekly editor Jane King had a Boadicea moment in a spirited defence of the objectiveness of her newspaper. Usurping me as chairman, she decided to hold a spot poll. Did the audience agree, she challenged? Mine was one of only 5 hands that went up. Isn't it a shame when democracy slaps you in the face, I thought. I exchanged glances with the representative from the Scottish Government. It's all in the way you ask the question were the unspoken words.

So what about the Irish growth prospects? 50% in volume by 2020, all predicated on the advantage of grass based milk production plus the fact that Irish yields are low, so they won't need any more land to deliver the growth. On top of that a 40% increase in value. Can they do it? Well, easily, according to the articulate and charismatic farm minister Simon Coveney, who has made it clear that he will prioritise sustainable intensification over the pleadings of the environmental lobby. No harm really from his point of view to parade agriculture and the dairy industry as the flagship sector in leading Ireland's deeply troubled economy out of its euro driven calamities. Meanwhile, the experts are scratching their heads over the logistics. No-one yet will tell you what products are going to be made and where the new capacity is going. It's all aspiration at the moment.

But sure, what's wrong with that in these difficult times. And if they succeed, they deserve it. I love Ireland and Cork in particular. I can't understand a word they say, but the winning smiles are good enough for me.

Friday 31st August

Let's face it, nobody can write the DG's blog quite like the DG but staging the occasional takeover to bring you tidings of a new initiative is a challenge I'm always up for. It's not easy wresting this slot from the DG, so when a sniff at the chance of a blog takeover drifted my way, I did what any self respecting Queen Bee would do and made sure to buzz in quick and get ahead of any other wannabee bloggers. 

So what, you might be asking yourself, do I have to say that's worth elbowing the DG to one side? It's to tell you about our some exciting new work we're going to be doing with schools. We're launching a Dairy Council Health and Wellbeing Award Programme in Scottish Schools in September. 

For part of the Award programme, we'll be asking secondary school children to plan a social media campaign which explains to their peers the importance that their food choices make to their long term health and to the health of the planet. 

As an industry, we spend a lot of time and resource talking to young people about dairy, diet and health – but do we really know what they think? Do we really know if we're giving them the information they need in the way they want to get it? Do we know if they're taking our information on board? What things are top of mind when it comes to food and education? What do they understand about the food industry? Would they like to talk to us and do they know how? How can they prepare themselves to enter our world and work for the food industry in the future? 

After all, it's been a while since those of us putting together educational materials and running campaigns for teenagers were teenagers ourselves!

For sure, we can hold focus groups and conduct polls to try and find out, but often all we get are answers to the questions we think are important without knowing if we've really asked the right things. 

This award programme will give students in Scottish schools the opportunity to tell us what they really think about food and the dairy industry. The teens taking part will certainly learn a lot about dairy, nutrition, the environment and the food industry; and since the award fits into many parts of the Curriculum for Excellence, their learning in other areas will increase along with their employability skills. But we'll learn too. They'll teach us how to talk to them and with them and what to talk about. 

If you have the joy of having children yourself you'll know that they are some of the best teachers in the world and without a doubt the most creative. So we're looking forward to their thoughts on dairy. 

We launch on the 26th of September in Glasgow with a fantastic line up of people helping us spread the word to as many schools as possible.

And as for the DG... fear not, he'll be back with you next week!

Friday 24th August

The London Olympics have undoubtedly had an enormous impact on this country, and with the feast of human endeavour and achievement that is the Paralympics to come, we can anticipate that the contribution and legacy will only become greater.

For the first week of the Olympics I was commuting into London as usual, and in total contrast to the dire warnings that had been widely circulated in the run-up to the games, public transport was actually markedly more civilised. The general ambience on the trains, tubes and buses was significantly different as people wore their national colours with pride, but without confrontation. They didn't hide behind free newspapers or adopt the glazed appearance of the habitual Ipod user. They talked to each other, shared experiences, helped each other. There was a lot to be proud about – the way that the games had been delivered, the welcome that we had given to international visitors, the performances of athletes from all nations, the way that the world had come together in an atmosphere of goodwill – all at a very difficult time for the global economy.

I enjoyed the final week of the games from a cottage in Cornwall, where the pride theme continued. 20 years ago you couldn't find a decent pint of local beer in Cornwall (other than at the Blue Anchor in Helston) and you had to work hard to find Cornish cheese or indeed almost anything Cornish labelled other than the delicious ice cream and clotted cream for which the region is justly lauded. But now, everywhere you go it is Cornish this and Cornish that. You have Cornish potatoes fried with your Cornish fish, washed down with a cup of Cornish tea and accompanied by Cornish bread and Cornish butter. Quite delicious. Everywhere you look, St Piran's flag flies proudly.

It's by no means all beer and skittles for the people of Cornwall. They are undoubtedly going through tough times. They have always been, quite rightly, a proud bunch, but now there's something else. They see the promotion of their county and their provenance as integral to their prosperity. It's not a "be-all-and-end-all", or a silver bullet. Nothing ever is. But it's important. It's positive and it provides a focus for activity.

In Proud of Dairy our industry has its own black and white flag to unite behind. We too have an enormous amount to be proud of. We too benefit from working together, promoting our provenance and showing the world just how good we are. The old adage is that "pride comes before a fall", but as the Olympics has shown, pride can be a very positive force. We need to make the most of the pride that we all have in our industry and the reservoir of goodwill that consumers have for British milk and dairy products.

Simon Bates, Communications Director

Friday 17th August

The post Olympics feel good factor is evaporating. In a brief respite from the battle to deliver a final Code of Best Practice on contracts – now affectionately referred to internally as the "Da Vinci Code" because the suspense has continued right to the end, it's full of sub plots, and almost certainly there will be a twist in the tail – we have been undergoing a process of self examination at Dairy UK and its been devastating. All the staff have been looking at themselves in the mirror and screaming "guilty". For evermore, Wednesday the 15th of August will be remembered as the day the dietitian demolished Dairy UK.

The self recrimination was doubly worse for me. Because the previous day I had to attend my speed awareness course. I unreservedly blame the DairyCo board for this. Their questioning of me went on for so long that I was forced to drive ,eh, quickly back to catch a train. So I did my bird on Tuesday with 23 other sinners, the vast majority of whom had transgressed in the town of Slough. I wondered why Slough? I can only guess that Slough is the kind of place you want to get out of quickly!

But the dietician, brought in as part of our Responsibility Deal Health and Wellness commitments, generated a huge diversity of reactions. Following her session the Queen Bee scuttled around in a panic. "I'm worried about my lipids" she said. "They look alright to me", I replied. If I ever find out what they are, I might be worried too. But none of us escaped the tyranny of the inchtape. It's a special inchtape, all marked out in colours telling you whether you're in Rio fit condition or at death's door. I knew there would be a problem when I saw it lying on the desk. My first reaction was "I wonder where the other half of it is". The colours could just as easily have reflected the cost to the NHS. The size of your waist, Begg is costing this country a fortune! Get it sorted out.

But it was where she put the tape that was the crusher. It turns out that your waist is not your M&S trouser size, nor the thinnest part of your body, as you all thought…be honest. It's the widest part of your stomach area between the rib cage and the hip. I watched the dietician write down the results on my scorecard. My number was so big her pen ran out of ink halfway through. So its back on the treadmill for me, but the process was also educational for the dietician. Next time she'll know to bring a 5XL inchtape. 

But the work on the Code of Practice will resume in earnest on Monday. We now have two weeks to comply with our commitment in the Heads of Agreement to get the detail hammered out by the end of August and in my opinion that's easily deliverable. As long as everyone realises that it is the foundation for an ongoing dialogue within the supply chain, and that it will be under constant review then I do not see any of the remaining issues being insurmountable with sufficient goodwill from both sides. Dialogue rather than hostile confrontation is the key to this, and I have no doubt that everyone involved in the discussions recognizes the importance of this. 

Alas there has been no post Olympic feel good factor for my friends and colleagues in Australia where the old Hawkwind classic 'I've Got a Silver Machine' has moved back to the top of the charts. Even worse I hear that the Australian Government is about to instruct schools that in future children should be taught to pronounce the word 'second' where it comes in front of the word 'again' more as they would say it in South Africa, viz 'sickened'. At times like this you need friends, but there were none available this week when the Socceroos lost to mighty Scotland in Edinburgh. This, of course, followed on from the walloping the Wallabies got from the rugby Scots in Queensland in June.  So the 'Oz versus' Them scorecard is looking a bit ,….eh….sick for the boys down under. Maybe we'll beat them at cricket too. If that happens the word 'sickened' will always have to come with a capital.

Friday 10th August

Summer in the city this year in London means the Olympics, so, yesterday we went to the big stadium 'en famille'. The boss had invested in a penny dabbity kit. The last time I wore a dabbity, I had to buy a packet of bubble gum. The choice was usually an Indian reservation or a mountain scene from the Austrian Tyrol. Now, dabbities are called face paints, so I took my place in the family queue as 'Cool As' dished out Union Jacks on the part of the body of your choice. 'Do you want the red paint as well as the blue and white', you nationalist pagan' she said. 'Of course', I said, satisfied with the knowledge of where quite a lot of the medals were coming from.

For the most part people left me alone during the day, for which I was extremely grateful. Even the Minister deferred a scheduled meeting when she heard where I was going. I viewed that as respect. I dismiss the suggestion that that's where she was going as well. The exception of course was a well respected farming publication for whom the Olympics is much less important than a comment from Jim Begg on whatever. So, against the background of the roar of the crowd inside the stadium I spent around 25 mins outside the stadium dealing with around 20 'just one final questions' which drained the charge and the soul of my mobile phone. And I know, that the 25 mins  will be converted into three lines at the end of 7 inches of statesmanlike oration from some other party.

Because the only hacks from this much respected publication who ever talk to me are the ones who deal with the 'last inch' of any article or feature being written. I affectionately call them 'the l-inch mob 'and there is a staggering consistency about the questioning. On this occasion after I had waxed eloquently for ages on the market dynamics of the dairy industry, the journalist finished with 'and now can you comment on the people who've been calling for your resignation'. Not even an attempt at a constructive or humorous link. I suppose I should take comfort from the fact that the last inch is very often a place of comfort and joy. As all of the frustrated wives of beer drinking husbands (also known occasionally as 'drivers') know very well, the last inch of any pint takes as long to savour and relish as the whole of the rest of the glass. This is a small consolation, but one I'll hold on to for the time being.

But I will have my day. At the great and much awaited Dairy UK conference on 3rd September, I will chair a panel of agricultural journalists, and we will talk about the conflicts between providing balance and hard messages with the demands of advertisers, publishers and most of all readers. We will talk about how to decide when something is news and something is gossip, and we will arrive at a better definition than the current rule of thumb, which appears to be 'it depends who says it'. I invite you all to come along and witness this great spectacle. Details are elsewhere in this publication.

My lifeless battery forced me to blag my way on to the Mobility Stand in the Olympic Park to borrow some of their electricity. This afforded me the privilege of observing at first hand the work being done by the Olympic volunteers. Now I've been watching these people at a distance for the last two weeks in London and I know how fantastic they have been. But trust me, the ones I watched dealing with the oddest and on occasions fairly demanding public inquiries was an eye opener. They are the real medal winners, and in the eyes of the overseas visitors to London for the Games, their kindness will be the real legacy.

Friday 3rd August

In the Dairy UK office we've all been issued with Dairy Council pedometers as part of the company health and wellbeing programme. Dairy UK is the heart of innovation, and the pedometer initiative demonstrates this palpably. The horse whisperer, for example, put his in his pocket, boarded a London bus, and then sat over the wheel. Wakey Wakeling sellotaped his to a moving part in the bowels of the photocopier. I received a hammer blow when I became aware that my daily walk from the station to the office doesn't take as many steps as I thought. My daily average was falling behind. So with it being a beautiful evening yesterday in London, the boss and I sat outside a bar overlooking the river. She then lectured me for about 30 minutes ("you haven't done this", "you'll need to do that" etc), which totally exhausted me. Simultaneously, I attached the pedometer to my pint glass. By the end of the evening I was right back on track.

Almost unnoticed in the flurry of media focus on the dairy industry is the strength that sterling has gained relative to the Euro. Those currently holidaying in Spain and Italy will have noticed this already, but for the rest of us still pinned to our desks in the UK, it has had an additional benefit. Dairy UK has been able to pay some of its euro invoices and in the process made considerable savings on budget. This will please the Dairy UK Treasurer.

Another effect of the currency movement is that it has moved the UK up the EU milk price table. That will surprise a lot of people I'm sure, but it's also a product of the fact that milk prices across the EU have plummeted in response to the fall in dairy product markets, particularly for fat. The average prices reported to the Dutch LTO price monitor have fallen by 15% from their peak last year, with falls of up to 27% in Ireland being recorded. So if meeting the cost of production either on farms or in factories in the UK is a problem, you can imagine what the situation is like on the continent – unless of course their costs of production on farm or in factories are different.

The harsh, and for many people unacceptable, reality is that by and large, unregulated markets are driven only by supply and demand, not by costs or anything else. So surviving in markets is a straight forward matter of competitiveness, whether you are a farmer, a processor, or anywhere else in the supply chain. No-one operating in a free market can guarantee the recovery of the costs of production all the time if the supply/demand balance is against you. Certainly, in the short term, you can blur the edges with non-market activity which can push money around the supply chain, but edge it out of kilter at one point, and the system cracks somewhere else. I wonder how long the UK roll of sticking plaster actually is?

Of course the release of the pressure valve will come when supply re-balances with demand. This will happen for sure but, in the meantime, while the situation in the UK remains difficult, it is particularly acute overseas. This is not a unique UK problem, it is an international issue and the solution will come internationally.

But back to the health and wellbeing programme. At the end of the week we all have to account to the Queen Bee who is presently making her contribution to the initiative in, of all places, Glasgow. Now as we all know, a trip to Glasgow is good for the heart. And the Queen Bee advises me that co-incidentally she had booked into the hotel being used to accommodate the Olympic teams. This required her to 'declare her business' and put her 'carry out' deep fried pizza and chips through a security scanner to get it back into the hotel. Well, when in Rome, as they say, but the security guards were unfazed. Glasgow is the only place in the world where an eminent nutritionist eating deep fried pizza and chips is not regarded suspiciously.

Friday 27th July

With the onset of the Olympics, London is bristling with excitement. I have to tell you, however, that the London taxi drivers are really hacked off. When I said to one "Waterloo please", he replied: "the South Bank or Belgium? It will take approximately the same time". 

Dairy UK being right at the heart of everything, our office overlooks an Olympic lane. These lanes are supposed to be family affairs, the cost to visitors being a £130.00 entry fee. We observed the gate crashers for about five minutes and after some quick extrapolations, we reckon that the potential income to Westminster Council is around Two Hundred Thousand Pounds per day. I haven't quite worked out how to exploit this knowledge commercially yet, but we're working on it.

When I eventually write my book on this industry, the last two weeks will have a full chapter on their own. All of you will be in it. But how to describe it? I'm in Belfast Airport right now after a meeting with some Northern Ireland political advisers. The piped music in the background is Joni Mitchell's Big Yellow Taxi. 'We've paved paradise, and put up a parking lot'? Maybe, but no, not quite. But as ever, before the dust has even settled, structural changes to the industry to deal with the future are being promulgated ten a penny. The power of public protest; the role of supermarkets – are they vehicles of profitable growth or simply monitors of the social conscience of agriculture; can economic sustainability for the industry be achieved in a deregulated and a volatile free market; and most significantly; what happens when markets don't cover costs of production? All complicated issues to which instant solutions are being readily offered. The Northern Ireland political advisers, for example, are advising me to consider the retention of milk quotas after 2015 – even though it would restrict access to the growing world market. I suppose that ready remedies are what happens in a crisis, but we have to be very careful. We might just as well try and find out who the Pied Piper is, and ask him what he thinks. Be grateful for the sticking plaster, I say, and take a little while to reflect.

One of the positives for sure was that at the height of the crisis we secured an agreement on the Voluntary Code of Best Practice on contracts.  Jim Paice can take a lot of credit for this. Sure, he had a great deal of self interest in delivering a result, but he showed the patience of a Rangers supporter to achieve an outcome that will benefit the whole supply chain. There are still some details to be ironed out, but these are small beer and should be capable of quick resolution and delivery. So there is no real reason now why the dairy companies who choose to participate cannot start moving things along.  I urge them to do this. It's important that the code works because regulation, for now I believe forestalled, remains an alternative in the future.

Friday 20th July

Every day I walk to work from Waterloo Station to the office. The journey takes about 50 minutes, and faster now that I can use the Olympic lanes. For anyone without the familiarity of this particular daily trek, it must be one of the most awe inspiring walks to work of any in the world. I pass all the famous London landmarks, now looking at their magnificent best and glowing with the excitement of the Games just around the corner.

Yesterday, I passed an enormous bank of photographers jostling to take pictures of the Duchess of Cambridge as she entered the National Portrait Gallery in Trafalgar Square. Then a huge queue of sleeping bags, containing people starting the long wait for the hottest West End tickets. And then, in amongst the fruit and veg traders of Covent Garden, the longest queue of all – unbelievably for a new brand of trainers.

Of course a lot of time is spent looking at the ground. Thinking, reflecting, preparing and planning for the business day ahead.  And of course going through a whole range of emotions, from anger and resentment, through reason and rationality, to humour and appreciation.  We all do it, and it's rewarding, because even the ground in London is more interesting nowadays. In Waterloo Station there is a series of sequential floor tiles that takes you from 'happy' to 'ecstatic' to 'over the moon' and then back down to 'happy', and so on. 'Hmm', I thought, 'just like global dairy markets'. But when I looked around for the ones that said 'bad', 'worse', 'volatile', they weren't there. So maybe Waterloo consumers don't realise that tough things happen too.  As if. For sure, though, they get the message that things get progressively better.

And of course you reflect on styles. What's the best way to put the message across, to win the game? Over the years in the dairy industry, I've watched and studied the whole range of styles from the top influencers and executives in the industry. Do you blame or flatter? Should it be clenched fist or velvet glove? Do you give time to reflect or pressurise for a quick decision? Or is it a combination of everything, depending on the situation, so that no-one knows where you're coming from.

This week, because of the acute sensitivities on the milk price situation, we've had some serious mud-slinging going around. It's understandable, but I've never found it productive. When mud is thrown in a scatter gun approach, some of it lands on everyone, me included. People get concerned about this, but I've developed a fairly robust duck's back.  All Rangers supporters have got one. But what I never understand about disgruntled dairy farmers, with every right to complain, is the pressure that they put their own representatives under. Because, whatever the flack taken by me, it's ten times worse for the farmer representatives. I have the absolute utmost respect for people who come forward and are elected to represent dairy farmers. They deserve credit for this. Always.

For my part, and re some of the stuff that's been targeted at me this week? Well, it's like the daily conversations you have your wife, isn't it? But you always get through it, with understanding and respect. It's good to talk.

Friday 13th July

Why does it always rain on me? Is it because I lied when I was 17? If so there must have been a lot of fibbing around in the streets that I walk along. I'm penning this in the farm cafe at Stoneleigh and as I look out it's totally dreich. I asked the waitress what her favourite band is. "Wet Wet Wet" she said. I told her that it was St Swithin's day on Sunday and the forecast was sun. "Ok, I'll get some extra ice creams in" she said. So my advice to my friends at DairyCo and the NFU is to pop over there next week. Ice cream is certain to be on bogof.

Fortunately it didn't rain on the farmers as they arrived for their highly successful meeting in London. I wasn't there. I was in the Minister's office on Voluntary Code of Practice business. I stayed on after he left for Central Hall to try and progress issues. But waiting in his office before he arrived, Dairy UK Farmers' Forum Chair Rex Ward made his own subliminal protest. For the third time in as many months in my presence, he contacted the phone company to get his phone switched back on after they'd cut him off for not paying his bill. Of course he had paid the bill. So the challenge was to convince the guy at the other end of the line that he had, and to switch it back on: never easy under any circumstances. I turned to Malthusian Pete and whispered "let's sit back and watch a master at work". The telephone man asked politely who Rex had spoken to on his previous communication. "The man with the Durham accent" said Rex. So, unfortunately, it's semaphore and smoke signals in the Ward household for the foreseeable future.....just in case anyone's trying to reach him.

The farmers in the UK are not the only ones who are unhappy. All over Europe the situation is the same and on Monday unhappy dairy farmers staged a demonstration in Brussels. Since November 2011, average milk prices have fallen in Belgium from just over 34 cents to 26 cents; in Germany from 36.90 cents to 29.80 cents and in France from 33.13 cents to 28.50 cents in May 2012. In the US, milk prices are 23 per cent lower than this time last year.

There is no mistaking the severity of the anguish. Nor is there any doubt that managing the new volatility in the market place is proving universally difficult. The Fonterra auction index has fallen by 42% since it peaked in March 2011. Dutch butter prices have fallen by 38% and German powder by 21% over the same period. For the UK, these global price developments are being made worse by a slow revaluation of sterling. The consolation in a supply driven price slump is that demand should provide a constant against which supply can adjust, but the latest growth forecasts from China give this assumption a knock.

Of course none of this makes it any easier to handle on the farm during the down times. And not surprisingly assurances that what comes down must go up are viewed with disbelieving scepticism. But it will, and that must be the message during very trying times for everyone.

Friday 6th July

The style of this commentary is necessarily more subdued this week, given the frustrations which have been expressed publicly across the industry over milk prices. And shorter, as a result of a series of unusually demanding business obligations. As things stand at present, next week's commentary is likely to be of the same mode. Dairy UK properly does not get involved in the commercial pricing decisions along the supply chain, so further comment is simply not possible. Suffice to say that the frustrations are universal. Free markets can be very cruel. They offer little consolation and very often have no conscience. However, at least we have the consolation that everybody in the EU should be working in the same environment and that the EU single market provides us with opportunities for growth.

With this is mind, two points concerning the future are worthy of mention. The European Parliament is now addressing the complex issue of CAP Reform. Amendments to the EU Commission's proposals are now flowing from the pens of the three rapporteurs whose patch this now is. In summary, what appears to be emerging are attempts that, in different ways, would effectively allow individual Member States to remove their agricultural sectors from the constraints of EU competition law. The object is to minimise the impact of market volatility. Every little helps, for sure, but this threatens the desire of all of us to operate in a legally coherent European single market place that can deliver growth. There are other ways to address volatility already in the CAP. The single farm payment is one. An appropriate safety net is another. That should be enough. No? If not, then they should be refined, rather than wrecking the 'even playing field' we all wish for. 

In the same vein, let me talk about sugar. Not a big item for the dairy industry in the UK, but very significant in other Member States. The sugar regime is scheduled to lose its quota regime at the same time as dairy. It's important for the food processing sector that this happens. It's a question of basic cost pressures. The EU sugar price has risen by 40% since the beginning of last year. The sugar industry wants to retain the quota system. Perhaps they are not interested in growth.

On a Brussels metro this week, I watched a reasonably talented busker force a series of recognisable melodies out of an aging squeezebox for about 5 minutes. He had to work really hard to get any sound out at all. His reward at the end of it was nothing from the packed metro carriage. Not a single cent. A labourer is worthy of his hire, I thought. Perhaps the next carriage would be better. There's always another day.

Friday 29th June

"I only want you to love us" said Lars, his craggy Viking features almost camouflaging the passion in his eyes. I didn't speak. I couldn't. I was still paralysed with shock after paying the equivalent of £4.50 for a small bottle of Coca Cola in an Oslo supermarket.

"We are one of the world's richest countries", Lars went on. Eventually I found the words. "I'm sorry Lars. But money can't buy you love. You mustn't look at things through rose coloured spectacles. Remember, the sun always shines on TV." "A-ha" he said.

Lars's concerns stemmed from my long running commentary on the Norwegian dairy industry, proclaiming it to be the bastion of protectionism delivering untold wealth and richness to everyone involved. Not so, said Lars and of course he's right........at least on the latter part of the analysis. Five minutes in the Norwegian countryside was enough to understand the reality. Norway's beauty and grandeur is in part due to the ravages of glaciations, but also to the beauty of the settlements that rural agricultural policies encourage to retain. However, someone in Norway took a policy decision a while back that the grain should be produced in the fertile lowlands and the milk should be produced in the hills. Everything stems from that. And when I say hills, I'm not talking about the likes of Primrose Hill. I mean 'the hills are alive........' type hills, with the milk being produced in amongst where the trolls live.

The logistics of that single policy decision are obvious both for the cost of milk collection and feed supplies, never mind the location of factories. But that's not all. It's Government policy to keep the farms small. The maximum penalty free quota needs only 50 cows to produce. The average herd size is actually 22. Only Austria is lower in the EU. So, inevitably, the milk price has to be high to cover the high costs to keep the hills populated with small farmers.

But still that's not all. The other driver of the Government controlled milk price is the fact that Norway's oil driven economy is fiercely rich. The price of food is three times that in the UK. So are taxes, and the average factory worker here earns around £40,000.  That's a problem on two fronts. Firstly, there's plenty of work and plenty of reasons why farmers should leave the countryside. Secondly, maintaining competitiveness in an increasingly global trading environment is tough. Norway has only one significant dairy company, but even with the advantages that that offers, delivering on the Government's high price aspirations for dairy farmers is tougher. Norway produces only 50% of its calories. The rest have to be imported. So, everyone is rich, but no-one is satisfied. Does that sound familiar?

It is to Gilbert and Sullivan's 'Gondoliers' that I turn for the moral of this particular story. 'The end is easily foretold, when every blessed thing you hold, is made of silver or of gold, one longs for simple pewter.' I've been wrestling with the idea recently that a degree of Government regulation could be necessary to underpin the imperfections of free market systems like ours. But my Norwegian experience has reminded me of three things I'd forgotten. First, that the viability of your industry is always in someone else's hands, and at any time their support could be withdrawn. Second, that supported systems always keep you at a return just below your level of satisfaction. They never drive greater wealth because that can't be justified to taxpayers. And thirdly, money in itself doesn't make you happy. The search for the perfect system goes on.

Last night after a fine dinner of roast rib of reindeer and in the glow of the Aquavit, Lars said to me "who do you think is the most famous Norwegian ever?" I thought for a moment and said "It's between Nina and Frederik and Tore Andre Flo. Without a doubt". "Hmm," he said. 'Nina and Frederik are Danish. Like the pastries. I thought you might have mentioned Grieg". "Yes", I said "John Grieg. What a player. But I'm sure he's Scottish." "No. Edward Grieg, the pianist" "A-ha" I said. "No. Just a simple pianist." said Lars. Whatever, Lars. I love you all.

Friday 22nd June

£8 for the car park, £25 to get in, no bacon rolls in the members' pavilion at 8am (no chef at all in the members' pavilion at 8am) and rain sheeting across the main arena. Welcome to Scotland and the Highland Show.

It was the £8 for the 'members' car park that stung the most. A whopping 60% increase on last year, and for what? The privilege of leaving your car in a flood plane with no temporary roads installed and not so much as a lifeboat to rescue you from the lake at the end of the day. Guys, you're having a laugh!

Eventually, drookit, in a howling gale, watching icicles form on an ice cream van, I thought what else could possibly go wrong? A phone call from the office that's what! Telling me that I was being prosecuted for speeding - in Wales of course - having been 'delayed' at a DairyCo Board Meeting, forcing me to scream back to Cardiff, to catch a train for a dinner which started later than I thought, compelling me to wait in the bar of the Dorchester Hotel, where I was obliged to pay £18 for a cocktail that filled the glass to a level of 1 inch from the bottom, and tasted like kerosene. The last thing I had done before travelling to Ingleston was attend the Squeeze concert at sun-kissed Hampton Court Palace. The last song they played was of course 'Up the Junction'. Forty years later as I gazed out into the dreichness in front of me, I understood exactly what they meant.

Watching, I now feel like I'm in Cagoule City. Even though it's still really the middle of the night, the music is screeching out from the Young Farmers' pavilion. The song playing is 'You Won't Find Another Fool Like Me'. I choose to let this pass. The showground has now been open for 60 minutes but I start to overhear people making arrangements to go home. Will they swim I wonder? But I can see some stalwarts sporting kilts, and that perks me up a little because the great attraction of the Highland Show is its Scottishness. It is the perfect promotion vehicle for Scotland the brand. And this is a message which is very well received by the attendees, because it seems to me that they are virtually all Scottish.

I wonder if the image maximises attendance figures? Does it generate international appeal? Scotland is driven in its pursuit of greater export performance, so shows like the Highland have to attract overseas visitors. But I can't see any. As the saucer in front of me starts to overflow with rain water, I think that at least you get more in your glass here than you do at the Dorchester. And I start to do some research. 

It seems that the Highland Show attracts around 46,000 visitors a day. And it runs for 4 days. The Great Welsh Show gets 57,000 per day over 5 days and the Great Yorkshire show 45,000 over two days. Instantly I wonder why the Royal Highland Agricultural Society of Scotland doesn't call their event the Great Royal Highland Show. These are not bad figures. In fact they are excellent. And suddenly the sun has started to shine and the vibrancy of the event starts to hit you and certainly, in the case of the Highland at least, there is real evidence of growth. But I feel that the bar can still go up. 

The Royal Sydney Easter Show attracts daily attendances of 70,000 to 80,000, more than a 100,000 on some days. It's the best attended event in the Southern Hemisphere. It costs £14 to get in and the car park is free. Attendances from outside Australia totalled 25,000 this year. I wonder how many jumbo jets that would represent landing at Edinburgh Airport? And if each of them had a Forfar Bridie, the dourness that you sometimes see around the Quality Meat Scotland stand would be transformed into smiles. These figures are not beyond us, I still feel we are under exploiting the potential for cow shows in the UK. We should be thinking big. 

Finally, and back to the image. Later in the day the Dairy UK Scotland board meeting resembled a scene from the battle of Bannockburn. Playing the part of Robert the Bruce was the great Maitland Mackie who warned the meeting that the prospect of independence would harm Scottish food exports as English supermarkets would increasingly seek English rather than 'foreign' suppliers. Necessarily cast in the role of Edward II was Kirk of the North. Kirk won't be pleased by this comparison, he's always seen himself more as a kind of William Wallace – romantic and taller than Mel Gibson.  But obviously he can't be William Wallace, in this story he has to be Edward II or it won't fit. After Maitland spoke he cautioned wisely over Dairy UK's involvement in party political issues. Ever the diplomat I stayed silent anxious not to prejudice my missionary status south of the border but as I listened, I heard a noise outside the window, almost musical.  Was it the sound of the rain melodically pounding on the backs of the shaggy haired cattle in the parade ring or was it the first phalanx of Maitland's tartan army mustering the horses for the charge to the first boot camp in Dumfries? When I grow up, I want to be like Maitland. His every intervention lifts the spirits.

Friday 15th June

There is a unique psychology attached to contributions to conferences from the back row. The Dairy Industry briefing, which preceded the Dairy UK dinner, was a case in point. Famous farming Taff Terrig Morgan was giving it large from the back row on some or other subject. Since I've been the object of Terrig's forensic questioning for about a hundred years, I knew I'd have a minute or so of reverie while he performed to the crowds to distract me, before cutting to the quick.

My mind drifted back to 'the old days' and meetings of the Society of Dairy Technology. I used to speak at their conferences, but always insisted on having a slot in the morning, because I knew that these conferences were the meeting place for all the old senior dairy industry leaders who had retired. They would chew the fat in the morning, polish off a few bottles of claret at lunchtime and then amass in the back row of the meeting in the afternoon. These guys were the cream of the crop, sharp as tacks and still at the top of their game, and the afternoon speakers were their playthings. Depending on their mood or boredom threshold, they could chew you up and spit you out at their whim, always acting in twos or threes like a pinch of pickpockets. It was a joy to watch, a nightmare to experience.

Terrig was waxing on, then I remembered. Damn it! Terrig always asked his question in the first five words, and then performed his swallow dives for the crowd. Not the other way round. How could I forget that? What the heck had he asked me? I still don't know, but as I was filibustering like crazy, I saw the smile starting to break out on his face. "Got you", it said. And he had. When you're in a hole, stop digging, I thought. So I did. Abruptly. One-nil to Wales. There'll be another day!

Next up at the briefing was the Horse Whisperer. He has this engaging 'Grand Old Duke of York' presentational style which marches you up to the edge of the cliff, then he marches you back again. Or was it the Pied Piper? Anyway there is this celestial Gordian knot of environmental initiatives floating around the stratosphere, all inviting the participation of farmers and processors. Some are EU led, some are Government led, some are quasi institutional, and many are competition led – by retailers to establish points of difference. So the Horse Whisperer did a kind of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' kind of synopsis of them all. He then explained to everyone how he had unravelled them, decided which ones the dairy industry should pursue, and how they would link together. Damn useful stuff, I thought. And as we go forward, we are now clear that the Dairy Roadmap, the Dairy 2020 project, and the Green Food project will drive the stimulus of our ongoing activity. But I urge the UK Government to do the same exercise as the Horse Whisperer, because they have more initiatives than you can shake a stick at, spread over a range of departments. It's not at all clear to me whether they're joined up at all…you know, big picture and all that.

I was tucked up in bed while the party raged on after the dinner in the evening. But I'm told that the winner of the spontaneous 'lounge lizard' competition in the bar to find the most appropriate song to describe the Minister's speech was Terrig, with 'Don't badger me'. I have to say that these reports are unconfirmed and from unreliable sources, but if true, it's two-nil Wales.

Friday 8th June

I'm beginning to notice a trend. It seems that every time the boss visits a foreign country, the banking system seems to collapse not long after. We nipped over to Madrid this week in search of some hot tapas. The boss immediately headed off, unaccompanied, to do some early evening shopping in El Corte Inglese. The next day, Sky News was full of reports of a plunging euro following the revelation that the Spanish banks needed a 40bn euro top up to survive. I watched and wondered. There is no doubt that my wife has a lot in common with the Spanish Government. In fact, the only significant point of difference that I can discern is that she has no qualms about asking for a bailout. She's in Norway next, at the end of June. Lars, please be warned.

I love Madrid. I much prefer the imposing gravitas of its buildings to the fluffy flamboyance and gaiety of Barcelona. And it's much safer for the tourist. This week, only one attempt was made to separate me from my wallet. This compares with four times on my last visit to Barcelona. The latter city, I feel, is more suited to the likes of the Horse Whisperer and Fergus the Green. By coincidence, they were in Barcelona when I was in Madrid, both trying vainly to cling on to their rapidly disappearing youth, and I sense they think that Barca is the best place to do that. I'm sure there's a strong case in favour, and of course, as the Horse Whisperer points out, they have attended the Barcelona music festival for five consecutive years, so there hasn't really been the opportunity to see the city in the daylight. However, I feel that they too will soon yearn for the stoicism of the national capital where true sustainability is easier to achieve.  There they will find, to their great pleasure, that Mahou definitely edges it over Estrella - some consolation I suppose for the sobering realisation that the rest of your life is just around the corner.

As it is for the entrants to the Farmers' Guardian Young Farmer of the Year award.  I zipped back early on Thursday morning to be a panelist at a round table event in London in advance of the ceremony. What do I know that could possibly be of any use to a young farmer, you must be wondering? Well I do know one thing for sure. And that is that I can be flamencoing in a Madrid bodega at 1.00am, and still be bright as a daisy in the centre of London at the behest of the Farmers' Guardian, for an 11.00am start, eleven hours later. Can this 'Challenge Anneka' spirit be replicated by the Farmers Guardian hacks and hackettes next Thursday with the Dairy UK Annual Dinner in the evening, and some bigbejesus meeting in Preston the following day? We'll see, but I'm confident they can do it.

The round table was full of experts, real experts on the technicalities of farm operations.  I was worried about my ability to contribute. But encouragingly they didn't want to talk about farming. They wanted to stress the business management skills of young farmers, because yesterday's farmer has become tomorrow's businessman. And every investment must be looked at by tomorrow's farmer as if they were a panelist on the Dragon's Den. Of much greater importance will be where to farm in the first place, rather than inheriting an existing location and making the most of it. And understanding the product, what the customer and consumer is looking for. And above all, understanding that all businesses compete with each other, even dairy farms, so that finding the vital point of difference from the competition will be even more important. And then, almost separately, there is the technical aspect of producing milk itself, almost treated as an afterthought by the panelists -the experts. So in future will today's 'farmers' develop their skills in the business schools first, and today's herdsmen perhaps be more appropriately termed 'farmers'? Food for thought for those involved. But hurry up, because tomorrow is just around the corner.

Finally, if you want to come to the joint Dairy UK/DairyCo industry briefing on Thursday in advance of our annual dinner, it seems that you can't because the room is full. Unless of course you want to sit with me and the Horse Whisperer on the platform, but that involves singing for your supper. Just like at any decent party, good singers are always welcome. So if your version of "Always look on the bright side of life" is worth a place, I'd like to hear from you. The dairy industry's got talent. Thursday's the time to prove it.

Friday 1st June

The year of 2012 will be viewed in history as a year of great celebration in the UK, with three major events certain to attract global fascination and interest. The atmosphere in London is bristling in preparation for what, in my view, is the most important of them. You can feel the anticipation as you walk through the streets now decked out in colour and pageantry, as world figures make plans, organise travel, and compete for key positions at what will be undoubtedly one of the greatest shows on earth. Yes, the Dairy UK Annual Dinner on 14th June is now less than two weeks away. Bookings are at a record level. So if you still want to come and haven't booked, you could turn up on the day and try and find the Horse Whisperer who'll be in 'I'll buy any spare tickets' mode outside the hotel. Or you could have a word with me. I still have a couple of tickets at 'friends and family' rates.  First come first served.

Riverside seats at the flotilla on the Thames on Sunday will also be at a premium, and I will be honoured to take my place in pole position, courtesy of my daughter's employer, whose office has a sun terrace on the river near Tower Bridge. What a great day in prospect and so deserved. A sixty year shift at anything deserves great respect, and my flag will be waving highest of all on the day. I only hope the weather blesses the occasion, but the forecaster on ITV this morning was anything but optimistic. I can only take comfort from a quote I heard some years ago from the great doyen of weather forecasting Ian McAskill who, anxious to point out the scientific superiority of BBC forecasters over those from ITV, said "when they say to you good morning, they've already told you more than they know".

By co-incidence, I was at a meeting this week at Clarence House as part of the Prince's Trust Dairy Initiative and it was fascinating to watch the bustle of the staff preparing for the weekend ahead. It was a welcome distraction from the thoughts in my head which had been there from the night before. There's no doubt that idle male minds get to work during the culturally bereft period that we call 'the close season', viz when there's no football on the television, and you are driven to watching programmes, as I did this week, like Jimmy and the Giant Supermarket. This featured the bull calves issue, and frankly, I was unhappy about what I saw. This seems to me like a blight on our industry which requires serious and urgent attention. If I was shocked, after a lifetime of working in the industry, and having a reasonable understanding of the economics, I wondered, what an ordinary consumer thought, especially since the programme makers had obviously deliberately heightened the drama for effect. Actually, one was sitting beside me on the couch. She left the room.

I've discussed this issue with some close colleagues in the industry, whose views and opinions I respect. Some are fizzing angry at the broadcast. They point out that the number of bull calves shot on farms has reduced drastically and that positive action to address the issue is a major priority everywhere. This information seemingly did not fit in with the line of Jimmy's story. Others had a different take. Their attitude was a kind of … shrug of the shoulders … get into the real world… that's what happens, kind of thing. That's understandable, but it doesn't address the issue, I'm afraid. They said to me "don't tell us about the problems, give us the solution". So I am going to look at it and see what's possible. In the meantime, Jimmy says he's doing all this to help the dairy industry by promoting veal consumption. Well I'm not so sure at the moment, but with two programmes to go on this subject, I'll retain an open mind. By my reckoning two Jimmy's are better than one, and at the very least, it'll be an achievement if consumers watching tv programmes about the dairy industry can comfortably stay on their couches to the end.

Finally, this is World Milk Day and at Dairy UK we're celebrating in style with an extra glass or two of the 'White Stuff'. Eh, that's it I'm afraid, because responsibility in this office for this event rests with the Dairy Council, and when I asked the Queen Bee for an events list, she told me "Don't worry it's not until the 5th". Right! However, to her great credit, she buzzed into action, and organized a Twitter competition with glittering prizes. All you have to do is tell us how you are celebrating WMD.  So you can enter NOW at @TheDairyCouncil. The winners will be announced in due course. For now all I can do is announce definite losers. They include young farming buck and NFU Dairy Vice Chair Robbo (and visitor to Dairy UK this week) who says he's spreading slurry. Commendable effort Robbo, but it's too much like your day job. Have another go. You have to be in it to win it.

Friday 25th May

My week has been dominated by wedding preparations. Well, when I say dominated, I mean watching everyone else scurry around working and checking, and organising and checking, and re-arranging and checking. Just like the office really. My role is to say absolutely nothing either with my mouth or with any facial expressions. I'm comfortable with that. In fact it's when I'm at my best.

By co-incidence I became aware that Farm Minister Jim Paice has a son being married on the same day as my daughter. Congratulations to Jim and his family in anticipation of a great day. I can only assume that it is Jim, through his Department's high level Environment connections, who has arranged for the sunshine to be turned on. If it was, then on behalf of the country's gardeners and wedding hosts, thank you very much.  Just to balance things up, thank you too to Shadow Secretary of State Mary Creagh for advising on my speech. I will certainly take her advice on diplomacy and tact.

My speech has been a bone of contention with the boss. Lines that she has culled include "I'm sure he'll make a model husband – a true but small version of the real thing" and "I'm the first speaker because it's customary for the sponsor to say a few words at the beginning". And, in deference to the fact that half the guests are Spurs fans, my Chelsea boots will be staying firmly in the wardrobe.

To divert my mind from the strain of wedding preparations I joined Captain Kendall and the crew of the good ship Milk and Honey for a sail up and down the Thames this week. To describe those on Board as a motley crew would be unfair, but I hadn't even quaffed a full glass of Pimms before I found myself at the end of the gangplank, forced there at the point of a cutlass by a lady from Sustain. All I'd done was ask her the simple question: "do you agree that milk's good for you?" I mean, I know we're all supposed to be following Defra lead by kowtowing to the more extreme NGOs who are an increasing part of our collective, but there's a fine balance between the smooth veneer of reasonableness and the jagged edge. There was some tension for a few moments as I faced the decision between the crocodiles in the river or more discussion on board. I was just coming to the conclusion that the lady from Sustain had sharper teeth when I was saved once again by the NFU with the cry of "there are more cream cakes in the kitchen" and she was gone. Wipe away the smooth veneer of reasonableness and you soon find some pretty sharp jagged edges.

This NFU's 'Farming Delivers for Britain' initiative to take farming to the public has my total admiration. I thought the same about the 'Why Farming Matters' campaign, which I believe has contributed massively to changing public opinion about farming in a positive way. There are so many positive things to tell. I didn't know that farming had added 10,000 jobs in Great Britain last year - in the countryside. That's a fantastic achievement in this climate, and the general public should know it.

Finally my thoughts will be with the friends, family and colleagues of Fiona when her funeral takes place today. Thank you to all of you who have been so supportive to Alan, Fiona's husband, with so many kind words and messages of sympathy. And to the Dairy UK staff, all of us, who have been warmed by your appreciation of our friend and colleague. As all of you have told us, she will be sorely missed.

Friday 18th May

A light went out at Dairy UK this week with the news, not unexpected, that we had lost Dairy UK's Office Manager Fiona Hampton to cancer. This accursed disease has no respect for age. She was only 53 and had the joie de vivre of a teenager. How unfair it seems that those who deserve the best often suffer the cruellest fates.
 
So no more glamour and glitz, high heels and sparkle from that corner of the office. One day from head to toe in gold, the next from toe to head in silver. Everything always totally matching, perfect hair, nails and makeup, she re-defined the word immaculate. Shiny bling everywhere, desk, jewellery, ornaments. I swear that she even had a pair of high heeled trainers.
 
Of course it went a lot lot further than that. I owed her so much personally. I learned so much from her. We all did in the office. She could spot things and deal with them sensitively in a way that I could never equal. She would tell me afterwards what she'd done. I was always presented with a solved problem, never a problem to solve. Managers everywhere know just how invaluable that is.
 
But it's the image of the organisation that she presented outside of the office that has generated the deluge of tributes this week when we circulated the news of her passing. Genuine appreciation from every quarter for the efficiency, helpfulness and friendliness that she offered. I knew, for her, that it was a matter of personal pride. Her standards were based on absolute quality. Nothing less would suffice.

The tributes have come from everywhere, and from all over the world. People, lots of them, who started as business connections but soon became friends and lunch buddies. One long time colleague worked with Fiona for years, but never actually met her. Nevertheless she was totally overcome with emotion when we phoned her with the news. The reaction has been overwhelming and so much appreciated by her husband, Alan, and the Dairy UK staff. I wonder if there is any greater achievement in life than to be appreciated the way Fiona has been by the people that she came into contact with. I admire her for it, if now sadly in memory. It also makes you reflect on how you interact with people that you still have the opportunity to value.
 
She dealt with her illness with typical courage and fortitude. It seemed at one point that she had beaten it and she was scheduled to return to work just after Christmas, but it wasn't to be. She wrote to me at the weekend of the May Bank Holiday, fully aware that she had very little time left. Alan, her husband, told me later that the email had taken hours to write, but she had absolutely insisted that all loose ends at the office had to be tied up. No-one who knew her will be the least surprised at that. What courage.
 
Sure, she wasn't perfect. She was an Arsenal fan for a start. And she wouldn't eat haggis. And of course there was that little blue plastic Smurf that I hated, but she kept because it looked like Robin van Persie. But oh how she'll be missed. As one Australian colleague wrote 'when I came to the office she made me feel part of the Dairy UK family by showing me the same polite disrespect she showed for you...." Oh how she'll be missed.
 
By a strange quirk of fate for me personally, her funeral is scheduled to take place on the same day that my daughter, also Fiona, is to be married.  And at almost exactly the same time. So mixed emotions lie ahead for me. Isn't it strange how things happen like that? But afterwards it will be the good things we remember. And there will be keepsakes in the office to keep her memory alive. We'll make sure of that. And as for the little blue Robin van Persie with the long white beard? Oh, ok. He can stay for a little while yet.

Friday 11th May

The twenty thousand protesting policemen marching through London on Thursday played havoc with the delegates heading for the Dairy Supply Chain Forum (DSCF) meeting at Defra. I waited patiently for a colleague in a nearby café. Eventually he phoned. He'd had to get out of his taxi and walk. And he couldn't find his way. "Why don't you ask a policeman?" I said. OK, perhaps it wasn't an appropriate time for a joke, but there was no need for language like that.

I met another eminent Dairy UK member in the street. I asked him what he was doing there. Stumbling over his words as he struggled to finish eating his sausage croissant, he said he was showing support for the lechers. I said the lecturers needed a bit of help too. I don't know what the world is coming to. Two colourful responses and it wasn't even eleven o'clock.

The discussions at the DSCF meetings are supposed to be hush hush. This must be in a sort of transparent kind of way, because I've been reading reports of the meeting on websites ever since. So I'll respect the spirit. if not the letter, of the understanding by not attributing comments to individuals. So I'll not tell you who it was who said he didn't want the industry to 'contract'.  Hey ho! Did he mean by legislation? No contracts? Surely not. If he meant 'shrink', I never heard him couple it with the word 'violet', which you would, wouldn't you?

Anonymity of course doesn't extend to the Minister, who chairs these meetings impressively, often providing more dialogue than the lobbyists combined. Everyone is invited, nae encouraged, to participate and that's excellent for the industry. Jim is excited about the forthcoming report of the Green Food Project, which he chairs and enthuses about eloquently. The report, due in the summer, will show the industry how to produce more food from the same resources with a lower environmental impact. I understand that the dairy part of the report will focus on waste management, although I understand that the dairy industry already has a good record there. Still, every little helps, as they say down the High St.

Much of the rest of the time we talked, inevitably, about trends in milk prices and global commodity markets. And of course, inevitably, the Voluntary Code of Practice, the two issues now having been coupled like Bonnie and Clyde. As I think I said last week, although these market trends have been known about and well understood for months, it is nevertheless a hard pill to swallow when market movements transfer to the milk price. And several eloquent contributions were made to this effect. But the main participants in the Voluntary Code discussions remain committed to finding a solution by the voluntary and not the legislative route, as does the Minister. The challenge has been intensified by the market pressure. So cool heads and not hyperbole are what we need now. It will be to our benefit in the longer term.

Finally, and back on the Green Food Project, the chair of the sub group on bread was in attendance at the DSCF meeting.  But to some extent, he has an easier job, because his objective of feeding the world on less resource has been done before. Five loaves should be his ambition, and if he delivers that, I'll be happy to throw in a couple of fishes for good measure. I'm good like that.

Friday 4th May

In 15 years of working with Wakey Wakeling I've never seen him take his suit jacket off. Summer, winter, hot or cold, it makes no difference. Once, out of the office in Kingston, I thought I saw him in Marks and Spencer wearing a casual shirt. I ran after him to get a photo, but he must have sensed it and he evaporated into the crowd. Later, he denied he was there. On another occasion a visiting party of Australians made a presentation of a Socceroo football top to Wakey in appreciation of him organising their visit. We were in Allbarone's in Richmond. I'll never forget it. Wakey put the top on over his jacket. Today, in a fit of post Cardiff euphoria, Wakey has announced that if his beloved West Ham reach the Premier League he'll wear the famous claret and blue to the office. Come on the Hammers is what I say. Sadly, I fear, Wakey should not throw away his Lonely Planet guide to English Championship towns just yet. There's many a slip……..

What a brou-ha-ha on milk prices this week. Astonishingly, this reportedly included more than one intervention from Farm Minister Jim Paice, bringing Defra right into the middle of milk pricing issues and making it even more difficult to find a harmonious solution on the Code of Practice. I would recommend that if anyone hasn't done so, they listen to DairyCo's Julie Macleod on today's Farming Today programme. She explains the market background extremely well, and puts things into context. I wonder if Defra's intervention is to be the norm rather than the exception. Doubtless time will tell.

While this was going on, I slipped across to Paris to meet my chums at the Maison du Lait. When I was the IDF President, this was never a hospitable place to visit, because the French never shared my enthusiasm for the Global Dairy Platform. I had one ferocious critic who worked there, which was not a problem except that I once accidently left a nice scarf in her office. I had to wait 3 years until she retired before I got it back. As I approached the building on Wednesday I noticed new security arrangements. I thought 'how did she know I was coming?' Despite this, the Maison du Lait remains the world's best model for cross industry trade representation. It's what we in the UK must aspire to.

But of course the differences are all in the past, and now we work together constructively to mutual advantage. And so, while I was there, I presented to the French industry's liquid milk interests. Eighty people in the room for a product which accounts for 22% of the dairy industry's total income. The same figure for us is 51%. Nuff said. I smiled when I saw that the first speaker was called Monsieur Desert. In the UK he would have been last, after the main course. The French liquid market has been trending slowly downwards, much like ours, except for two things. One is the volume uplift we've had in the last 18 months. The other is that they haven't experienced the value decline that we have.  Interestingly, French sales are being driven strongly by bio and organic products. The recession, it seems, hasn't crossed the channel…at least in that respect.

The discussion was lively. What could the UK learn from the French, and vice versa, asked the chairman. One delegate suggested that the UK should move to UHT milk. It was more convenient for modern lifestyles. No thanks, I replied. I didn't think that opening our market to marginally costed imports and denying us the advantage that a fresh product sold on an island delivers. I'd rather see the 'Tunnel sous La Manche' filled in first. OK, he said, what should we do in France? I told them two things. Firstly, use Nell McAndrew to promote your products. They were sceptical until I showed them the pictures. No further explanation was necessary. Secondly, I told them about the UK coffee house boom. You probably don't fully appreciate the volumes of product involved, I said. I could see thoughtful expressions in front of me. "And sacrifice the double espresso?" said les visages.  "Sacre Bleu. It's the kind of thing Sarkozy would suggest!" I felt I'd stretched the privileges of the "auld alliance" far enough. There's always another day.

Friday 27th April

It was a day when the harsh vagaries of the modern dairy market place were exposed in the Northern Ireland milk auction, with a drop of almost 4ppl against a tighter milk supply. The volatility was expected, but is no less palatable when it arrives.

So I travelled to the Trehane Trust Scholars' dinner last night in search of inspiration and positivity, and with a reasonably high expectation of delivery, because it's always full of Welshmen.  The evening is traditionally MC'd by the phlegmatic Professor Wynne Jones OBE, whose former position as Principal of Harper Adams College has generated finely honed hosting and compèring skills which could see him effortlessly slip into the shoes of Bruce Forsyth when he eventually falls off the stage at Strictly Come Dancing. Wynne rolls proceedings along with that blend of wit and pathos which you seldom find outside the valleys. With baleful eyes, he coaxes the scholars to make their speeches brief so that we, the audience, can be sure of catching our trains home. But the expression in his face says that "brevity is necessary otherwise the audience will be deprived of more poetry from me". Wonderful. He is Trehane's greatest asset.

Trehane's other greatest asset is, of course, our own Pieman, who performs his secretarial role with a combination of courtesy and discipline so that, on the outside at least, you get the impression of a relaxed well drilled machine. The Pieman is the perfect foil to the doleful flamboyancy of Jones. Last night, for example, we had an entertaining Laurel and Hardy moment when Jones took questions to the guest speaker (the great A. "P" Richardson, who had heroically stepped in at the last moment to deputise for the unavoidable absence of the scheduled speaker) sequentially from the opposite ends of the room. The Pieman, microphone in hand, was forced to rush breathlessly, like Usain Bolt, from corner to corner to keep up. Jones roguishly claimed that he was responding to the order of the hands being raised. The reality of more air time for the chair became just a fortuitous side benefit.

Trehane sends scholars round the world to study best practice. The aim is as much about individual self improvement as what they can bring back for the industry. There is a strong link through the Nuffield foundation with Australia and New Zealand. I always find it amusing that we send our best students round the world to Australia to find the solution to the future and that at the same time, the Australians do exactly the same in reverse. Where is it that the centre of the crystal maze actually is? One of this year's scholars, the excellent David Helliar, a dairy farmer from Wiltshire, got remarkably close to finding out. In a refreshingly candid presentation, he revealed that before he started his travels, he considered himself to be the best farmer on the planet. When he got back after 6 weeks or so away it was to discover that his own farm staff had delivered way above the KPIs that he had personally set for the farm. Very often the solutions lie much closer to home than you think. Sometimes in other industries, sometimes right under your nose without realising it. A good lesson there for all of us.

But without doubt, at the same time, travel and education broadens the mind and in David Helliar's case at least, and I'm sure for many others, the Trehane scholarship has delivered great benefits. David's summarised report was available at the dinner last night. This was a positive development by Trehane. It shows innovation and it introduces more accountability for the scholars. But it is an excellent document, and a teaching manual of good practice on how to grow a business. I thoroughly recommend that you read it.

Finally back to Wynne Jones, and a private conversation on obesity that he and I had at the outset of the evening. I ventured the view that the standard male test for measuring personal obesity was to look down before getting into the shower. If you could see your manhood you weren't obese. 'Yes', he said, 'but in Cardiff it's a bit different. Before getting into the shower, you look forwards into a mirror. If you can see your manhood, you're not obese'. The DoH can learn a lot from the Welsh you know. Sometimes, solutions are closer to home than you think.

Friday 20th April

"Calling Svetlana in Ljubljana.  Calling Svetlana in Ljubljana. Are you receiving me"? Unfortunately, Svetlana in Ljubljana wasn't, and the European Dairy Association Board's first experiment in high technology videoconferencing evaporated spectacularly into the ether. I find that on occasions like this, the glass half full or half empty syndrome comes into play. The EDA Board, to their credit, saw it from the latter point of view, and so the perplexed engineers pushed the high tech equipment out of the boardroom to the echo of cheers from Board members, and raised glasses to the formidability of the EDA firewall. The view taken by Svetlana in Ljubljana will remain forever unknown. There will be more problems ahead. I know this from bitter personal experience, but the EDA mustn't give up. This is an essential part of their service to members.

I zoomed back from Brussels to the FDF dinner in London feeling swanky in my new 'Bobby Shaftoe' double silver buckled kilt shoes. I feared I'd have to sneak in late at the back but cock ups being what they are, I found myself first to arrive – before the bar opened. This forced me into investing in a Dorchester cocktail which per ml of alcohol cost me more than I've ever paid anywhere for a drink. The barman said it was an environmentally friendly measure….no need to wash the business end of the cocktail glasses. I needed a seat to recover from this, and then for the second time that day, the glass half full karma took over my consciousness. I'd beaten the rain. I watched the rest of the dinner guests arrive in their finery, drookit from the sudden April showers. The term 'dry martini' suddenly took on a new meaning.

I had been positioned at the 'high science' table, which I thought was excellent news for the scientists. There was an Englishman, a Scotsman, an Irishman and a Welshman, the latter three with something in common. We'd all come to England for a fixed period of 2 years as part of the 'Gentrification of the English' project in the 70s. However, all of us had realised that it was a much greater challenge than originally anticipated and had stayed on for longer. My three dinner companions were now at the head of 3 major scientific research institutes in England, and of course, all of them were desperate to hear my views.

There was general agreement on two points. First, that the demand for R&D in the commercial sector was riding above the recession, but public funding was a difficult area. Second, that there was too much competition amongst scientific research providers for work. The outcome was a flurry of papers and reports which served to benefit breakfast television stations and the Daily Mail, but not much else.

More controversial was my view that a major problem for dairy was that this competition for public funds meant that renowned scientists were openly supportive of dairy in private, but tight lipped in public and on government committees. Scientific integrity, it seems to me, occasionally comes at a price. Shortly, we will see the outcome of work from the WHO/FAO, who intend to change their method of defining protein quality. This will demonstrate much more clearly the benefit dairy has over plant proteins. At the moment, the scientists are telling us privately that dairy has been short changed for years by the current system. When the new system comes forward, we need them to be saying the same things in public too.

Finally, back at the EDA, they may be short of a latter day Alexander Graham Bell, but they've certainly cracked the three 'Rs'. Currently, a very small staff includes Messrs Aris, Aris, and Harris. To the world's West Ham supporters, that's three 'Rs' and no mistake. So while electronic systems might crash, and computer screens go fuzzy, the EDA has the comfort of knowing that the fundamentals are sound. And with that, you can't go far wrong.

Friday 13th April

So what have Kenny Dalglish, Nat King Cole, and the captain of the Titanic got in common? Easy isn't it. Smoke got in their eyes! Yes, when the mist comes down, you tend to bump into things. And if you feel like that on this Friday the 13th, then let me tell you that there's a horse running in the Grand National tomorrow called "Becauseicouldntsee". At 20/1 ante-post, I'd bet the house on it.

Well at least I would if I worked for the Department of Health. It's not been a good coalition experience for this hugely important Government Department, which I view as the civil service equivalent of the dairy industry, because their products get into virtually every household in the country. They keep bumping into things, and rather too often for comfort. Particularly consumers, in the shape of various NGOs, health interest organisations, and in particular the magazine 'Which', the mouthpiece of the Consumers' Association. Take the Responsibility Deal for example. Not popular with these organisations is it? So much so that most of them are now crying out for the last port in any storm, the harbour of regulation. More regulation wouldn't have saved the Titanic, but demisting the captain's future spectacles might have.

Now, of course, being popular doesn't necessarily make things right. I know that from working at Dairy UK.  And that may well be the Department of Health's mantra, but sometimes, working with them is like wrestling with smoke.  And we all have a responsibility to make the right things as popular as we can. Start out with as many friends as you can. The rest is in the lap of the Gods, but at least you've tried. So if I was in the DoH, and I wanted to avoid the bumps on the Responsibility Deal, this is what I would do. Firstly, forget about regulation. It's simply not a practical alternative. Secondly, trust the food manufacturers. Their existence depends on providing products that consumers want. Their demise will come if they provide products which make consumers more unhealthy. Thirdly, put the main primary food producers around the top table and involve them in advance. They are not there at present, and when you ask why not, a litany of excuses are provided. That's why the take up on the calorie reduction pledge has been so poor. And finally, listen more and lecture less. It helps. Dairy UK will shortly sign up to the calorie reduction pledge. That's an opportunity for the DoH. Please don't let the opportunity slip away.

Finally, now that the Scottish football season is finished, I'm focusing more on England, and my interest this week has been taken by the aforementioned Kenny Dalglish. I have the advantage over most of you because I at least can understand what King Kenny is actually saying. But that's only because it wouldn't take much more than a 3 wood to knock a ball between where he lived and where I lived in Glasgow (for anthropological anoraks, the ball would have passed over ex Farm Minister Jim Fitzpatrick's house on the way.) But as I watched Kenny shake hands with his ex team mate at Celtic, now Blackburn manager, Steve Kean this week, it struck me what a great combination they would make working together – Kenny on the football, Steve on the articulacy, integrity, and diplomacy. The problem is the smoke. At the moment it's black coming out of both chimneys.  Who knows, with a little bit of foresight, it could very well turn to white.

Thursday 5th April

All four women in my family are shocking back seat drivers. All of them are equally capable of manoeuvring a car with nothing other than their tongues. I on the other hand am the exemplar of tolerance as a passenger. So it was a rare event last weekend to see the tables turned when, on returning from a family walk in Richmond Park, I politely encouraged the Boss to show a little alacrity on the road (viz would you stop buggering about or we'll miss the start of the Spurs match). This was greeted with a chorus of disapproval from the chipmunks in the back seat, rattling on about tortoises and hares. For effect Cool As even put 'Slow Hand' by 'The Pointer Sisters on the music system. As I listened, I was reminded of the son of a friend of mine who used to tell everyone, "When I was 17, my father knew and understood absolutely nothing at all. By the time I was 27, it was amazing how much he'd come on". 

Back on to hares and tortoises, who am I to question the veracity of such a fine fable. Especially since time and time again in our business lives we see the rewards go to those for whom patience can genuinely be claimed as a virtue. Compare the respective fortunes of the chairman of Manchester United FC with the chairman of Chelsea FC. One is blessed with a slow hand, the other is not. Fortunately, I think, there are a lot of slow hands operating in the milk industry. But there are also a lot of impatient hares. Those in the former camp value long term sustainability. Those in the latter are more inclined to see anything other than instant change as failure.

This week, I seem to have been working on a lot of issues where short and long solutions are viable options. The Dairy 2020 project for one. Geared towards delivering a sustainable future for the industry, it's got to be about putting things in place in the short term which will generate longer term rewards. So the impact there won't be immediate, but the investment for the future is sound. The establishment of a Voluntary Code of Practice on farm contracts is another. I've been trying to explain to people that a progressive application of improvements over a period of time - moving forward and banking, moving forward and banking - could get the industry to a much more rewarding position in the longer term. The alternative of a perceived bigger prize immediately is an obvious temptation, but if failure means the sacrifice of all gain, where does that leave us in the future. Looking to the Government again to step in. That's where, and that is the least preferential option. So, slow hand or heated rush? I'll let you know how it goes.

And finally some Easter chronology for you to help my kids who know everything and don't need my advice on when to role their eggs down the hill. And for those Scottish Presbyterians who have been trying to arrange meetings with me on Easter Monday. The Last Supper was on Thursday; the Crucifixion was on Friday (Cool As -"why did they call it Good then?"); the stone was rolled away on Sunday (so head for the hills then and not before;) and the Resurrection was on Monday, - so if you live in the South East of England , what better day to practice your rain dancing? Have a pleasant Easter and a great break. And remember, this is a great time to lend your neighbour your garden hosepipe. Tell him he can keep it as long as he likes.  Much better to clutter up his garage for the summer than yours.

Friday 30th March

Very early this morning I found myself wandering through the City of London.  The weather was gloriously warm.  Surely it must be summer now. My prime objective was to shake off the effects of last night's PTF dinner, not an easy thing to do. I was instinctively comfortable on Cheapside, but not so on Gutter Lane. Too much like the night before. Milk Street was brilliant white in the sun, and I started to feel better. And I enjoyed breakfast in Bread Street.  But it wasn't until I reached Prudence Passage that the wisdom all flooded back and I felt ready for the day. Yes, we all have our little individual karmas. And they all work.

Just as well, because my meeting today needed spick span attention. I had been invited to participate in a Dairy Council Blue Sky day, which I had mistakenly read as a Blue Knights day. When I got there it was full of nutritional seriously high rollers, including an advisor to the Olympic rowing team (difficult to get an oar in there), the globally authoritative Queen Bee, and Ramsay, media advisor to both Dairy UK and The Dairy Council, who put pressure on all of us by wearing a shirt that wouldn't have embarrassed a Berwick Cockle.

And there was a facilitator, no less, who raised the tempo right at the outset by throwing a packet of paracetamol tablets across the table saying "we might need these". The last time I'd seen that was in an episode of The Sopranos! I made an early mistake by voicing an opinion, just to test the water, you know. I was horror struck when people started to question me about what I'd said. It was like when you go home and the Boss asks you a question about something she's seen on the TV about milk. Normally, I'm only required to display enough knowledge to see me through to the start of the Champion's League game on Sky. But in this company? I cursed not having spent more time earlier in Prudence Passage.

And so it went on, examining and re-examining purpose, focus, scientific support, credibility, and all the other characteristics of authority. After all, if you are the curator of the library of truth, then integrity must be at the heart of your core values. The outcome will be available for all to see very soon, and you will not be disappointed. It will confirm The Dairy Council and its staff as leading global influencers on dairy nutrition. That's the objective, and that's what will be delivered.

My final penetrating contribution was to respond to a question aimed at the high powered nutritionists. "Is milk a perfectly balanced food?" "Yes", I intervened. Instantly I saw the expert eyes swivel round to glare at me questioningly. I searched for the paracetamol, but somehow the karma flooded through my body and on to my tongue. "But only when consumed with a Forfar Bridie and a Lorne Sausage" I added. The pressure was released immediately. The nutritionists were satisfied. Now, of course, as soon as they get on to Google and find out what these food items actually are, then my cover will be blown totally. But life is all about timing. And at that moment, my time was running out.

Friday 23rd March

II was on a packed underground train in the wonderful city of Seoul this week, observing the locals. I was the tallest person in the carriage. I was also the only person carrying excess weight. It's because of all the bowing you know. Seven times on average each time you meet someone. Double that when you're saying goodbye. Compare that with the number of calories expended by a handshake, or even a Gallic kiss.  Like in so many ways, the Asians have got it right.
 
Asia affects people. Some are disconcerted. Like my Norwegian mate Lars who asked our tour guide 'what's that churchy looking building over there?' 'It's a church', she said. Or like Dutch stato Adriaan, who was asked a question in Korean at a seminar in front of 300 people.  His facial expression was priceless. It was like watching John Maynard Keynes answer questions on A Question of Sport. Like a true professional he still managed a 4 minute reply.
 
The dairy world had gathered in Seoul to study milk supply control and management systems. Every supply chain, contractual and pricing arrangement in developed and developing countries was laid bare for comparison and analysis. But the focus was effectively crystallised into a consideration of whether regulated or unregulated pricing systems were better for generating profit in the industry in the years ahead. I had been invited to present a paper which would wind up the conference. Yip. They certainly know a wind up specialist when they see one.
 
Much of my time at the event was spent pleasurably standing shoulder to shoulder with my friends from New Zealand defending free market principles, but in truth the Kiwis still view the UK as unwelcome bedfellows in their crusade for a subsidy free playing field. And they'll hold that view as long as the EU maintains a policy of single farm payments. Looks like our cosy, but arms length, relationship will continue for a while then.
 
But forked tongue or not, I was able to solicit their full support for demonstrating the damage that regulated pricing systems can do to an industry. Korea itself is a striking case in point. The country is sitting right on the edge of the part of the world where the demand growth for dairy is going to be greatest. The country is still only 60% self sufficient in milk, yet at the same time is actively suppressing what it considers to be surplus milk production. Help ma boab! It's all because the Government raised the price of milk to help farmers pay for imported feed when the currency collapsed. When the currency re-strengthened, production surged and the Government was left with more milk than they needed for their local fresh product demand. It's been cut backs and chaos ever since. How pleased I am that we're through all of that in the UK. The lesson is that the less Government regulation in milk prices, the better. How lucky we are that our present Government agrees.
 
Seoul is a fantastically vibrant city, with wonderful friendly people. So much so that I've almost forgiven it for having had to pay 22 US Dollars for a bottle of beer when I was last here in 2005. A French colleague asked me if I'd like to work in Seoul. I said that I didn't think it would be a good Korea move. He remained stony faced. Sometimes humour just doesn't transmit across borders! 

Friday 16th March

Spring is the liberty bodice of summer. It hints at the possibility of warmer things to come. And the Spring-like weather in London this week pervaded the Agra Europe agricultural outlook conference in Covent Garden. I was giving the dairy paper looking at the future challenges and opportunities for the global dairy industry. It's a paper I've given at this same conference many times in the past and, as I looked out at the audience, I spotted a few veterans of previous lectures. Of course the passage of time makes it harder for me to remember their names. I felt like the man introduced to Quasimodo for the first time. "I can't quite remember who you are, but your face certainly rings a bell!"

The Chairman Chris Horseman, Editorial Director of Agra Europe, I remember very well. Indeed I'd recently learned a lot from him at a presentation on CAP reform at the Chartered Institute of Marketing. In his final summing up he said that he was surprised how positive the outlook was for pretty much all the agricultural sectors. Strange, he thought, at a time of economic recession.

Well, I hadn't heard the other papers, but it was no surprise to me on behalf of the dairy sector. Unless, of course, you're a dairy farmer in north New South Wales and Queensland, I would rapidly add, to respect the sensitivities of the many readers of this column in that area. They read it to get an idea of what's coming next in their industry. They've spotted that Australian supermarkets import a lot of British talent! This apart, the optimism comes locally in the short term from the milk price, currently 12% above last year, having moved up faster than the EU average. We're now 14th in the EU league table. Would you take that if offered it in advance? Well, you would if a year ago you were 23rd.

But longer term, we have this stunning growth opportunity - likely to be 2.4% globally according to Rabobank in the shape of our old oppo Kevin Bellamy, now a global analyst with the bank. And we all trust the banks. That's every year for the next 5 years, or 18m tonnes annually. Kevin also says that the EU has the potential to supply half of that, with the UK potentially weighing in with 1m tonnes per year. That's extra, every year. That's what's creating the optimism. But of course the price has got to be right, and that's the rub. And when I say the price, I mean the profit, not the headline nominal figures. Because although the market outlook is sound, this will be the Sandie Shaw path to growth - "one day I'm feeling down on the ground, then I'm up in the air" - riddled with short term supply and demand shocks. We've got a little supply shock at the moment working its way negatively though the system. But the opportunity is clearly there. All we have to do is take it.

Finally, I was sitting in an office at Stoneleigh on Wednesday when I heard noise and commotion outside. Firecrackers and rockets were going off everywhere followed by a crescendo of cheering. At first I thought that the hot air had been too much for the bouncy castle exhibition outside, then I realised that the great Brython Mansel Raymond had been fittingly re-elected as chair of the NFU Dairy Committee. Ah, I thought, he'll be along in a minute with the champagne. And then I remembered that in Wales, champagne is for cissies. They carve up a cig oen, see, suffocate it in bara lawr, and wash it down with Bragawd to take away the taste!

And so the Welsh grip of British dairy farming politics continues and indeed strengthens. In my memory this stretches back through cewri such as Hugh Richards, Terrig Morgan, Gwyn Jones and Mansel himself. In recent years only Michael Lambert has been able to borrow the position for the under-performing English. I can only imagine that the secret must be in the lava bread. And of course brother Meurig's victory in the recent NFU Vice President's poll makes it two in a row for the all conquering Raymond family. What could possibly complete the trilogy, I wonder? Would a Grand Slam victory on Saturday be enough? Possibly, but at this rate of progress surely the aim is to be singing in the choir before the game; or pulling on the jerseys and taking their places in the Welsh back row - the Raymonds bound together by that other Welsh Dragon Toby Faletau. Or maybe even a kiss from Katherine Jenkins afterwards with the trophy aloft. Don't be surprised if you see any of this, come Saturday night. Cymru am byth!

Friday 9th March

Sometimes there's no pleasing anyone. It's hard to believe, but there are times when ALL my ideas fall on stony ground and the poisoned arrows of vexation are all aimed four square at me. It's ridiculous to contemplate I know, but could it possibly be that sometimes I deserve it?

Take "Wakey" Wakeling for example. He helps me with my slides for presentations. Well, when I say helps, I actually mean he creates, designs, and constructs them. He's spent a week working on a speech I'm giving, but was perturbed when I told him this morning that with 5 days to go (including the weekend) I'm dumping it completely because it's all rubbish, and I don't believe the words I've written. Wakey's a West Ham fan, so he has nowhere else to go for comfort. I've explained to him that he must become more adept in the process of managing change, so he's thinking about that right now. Meanwhile, we've been able to turn the heating off in the office.

Then there was my doctor. Some of you have been generously effusive over the fact that I've lost an ounce or two recently. He, on the other hand, slammed me for not trying hard enough and put me on a course of physiotherapy. I consider all physiotherapists as the ultimate executors of torture, in the same way I do Vlad the Impaler or Ivan the Terrible. When I shared this opinion with my doctor he said 'my wife's a physiotherapist and she's not like that'.  Right, I mean anyone can make a mistake. So I dug myself out of this hole by telling him that he didn't know her well enough yet, and that he should be permanently on guard for a mean streak.

Things went wrong with the Dairy UK Cheese Group as well. I was preparing to address the All Party Parliamentary Group in the evening on the virtues of PDO and PGI cheeses. In the afternoon the Cheese Group jettisoned the idea. For now only I hope, because there is much to learn from the Italians which we can use to our benefit. There will be another day on this one, for sure.

But the APPG event was a good opportunity to reflect more intensively on cheese. And the first observation was how the general public and MPs in particular continue to love our products. So can cheese legitimately now claim to be the flagship product of the dairy industry? And can it continue to ride the challenges of public approval with ongoing consumption growth? Definitely, as long as the legislators in the UK and the EU give us a fair crack of the whip on labelling and allow us to market our products successfully in response to new consumer demands. This is necessary in the case of new reduced fat varieties in particular, but also for traditional varieties such as Leicester and Double Gloucester, possibly threatened now it seems by the implementation of the Food Information Regulation. The cheese market in the coming year will be tough for those operating in the European Union, but a side benefit will be the emergence of whey products in consumer markets, with the immense nutritional attraction to consumers. Small cheese companies might find it difficult to amass volumes which make it easier to exploit these benefits. They should invest some time in working out how this might achieved. It could well be a profitable investment.

Finally, a planned 'session' last night had to be aborted late. So I returned home anxious to learn if the kitchen was still open. The Boss, glued to Eastenders, looked at me suspiciously. So I explained diplomatically that I'd come home because I thought it unfair to leave her to watch the Manchester United game on her own! Absolute silence! I sensed a mood change later when I heard her ask 'Do you want chicken, beef or fish?' 'Oh, chicken', I said. 'Not you. You're getting soup. I was talking to the cat'. Yes, it's all in a day's work, and as Her Majesty the Queen prophetically pointed out yesterday, work is the price you pay for life.

Friday 2nd March

In like a lion and out like a lamb is what they say about March. But as I walked the 3,799 steps from Waterloo Station to the office this morning, there was a distinctly autumnal feel about London. I now know the distance to the office courtesy of the Pieman's pedometer, which I have generously offered to look after for a few days. I mean it weighs around 4 ounces, and everyone needs a break from time to time.

When you walk around London, you see things. There was a man with a collection box shouting 'spare change for the London helicopter ambulance service?' What? A crucial emergency service is running on spare change? Next to him was a fire-eating juggler with a collection bunnet. From his visual appearance he looked as though he had experienced some of the rough side of life. I guessed this because he was wearing a Rangers scarf [in fact, for a moment, …….. no, they just looked alike]. It seemed to me that the fire-eater was attracting around twice the contributions of the ambulance man. But who am I to judge who had the greater need? The dilemma for me was solved when the fire-eater went over and put money in the ambulance man's box. I walked on, invigorated.

It's been a quiet, studious week at Dairy UK.  I've been preparing for two big presentations I'm making later in the month. I say big because, on this occasion, I can't take them out of the drawer. I have to do some preparation, and I want to make the most of them. Next week will be different, because right now all the forecasters, analysts and soothsayers of the EU dairy world are polishing their crystal balls and reading the runes. And next Tuesday they will all arrive in Brussels for a day of enlightenment on the future direction of global dairy markets. I'll be there listening avidly. But I'm not the target of their information. It's the EU's dairy farmers for whom the penny is intended to drop, and they will be expected to react to what they hear more or less immediately.

The meeting is organised by the European Commission and it's part of their master plan to get farmers to react to market signals better than the Commission say they have done in the past. I mean it's irresponsible of farmers to try and capitalise on the good times by producing more milk, isn't it? Anyway, this is all going to be very important in the post quota era when the shackles will be off and the flags go up. Well it will be for the Commission, who will still nominally have to pick up the tab if supply gets out of kilter ahead of demand. Only in the future, they'll have no funds to do it with. So, the strategy is: tell them everything everyone knows, and if you get it wrong don't blame us – we did warn you.

Now, I offer no comment on whether this is an efficient way to go about things. However, this column wants to do everything it can to help the EU Commission to deliver its objectives. So my plea is to all European farmers, feed manufacturers, fertiliser producers and rainmakers to stand by their posts and switch on their Twitter channels. Wait until the market signal comes through, round about mid afternoon on Tuesday, and then take the appropriate action. And don't forget to Tweet back information on what you are going to do. That way we will collectively avoid killing off the goose that is laying the golden eggs. Yes, on Tuesday, let's all be Twits.

Finally, I heard today that a close colleague and great contributor to the US dairy industry, Craig Plymesser, is to retire from his position at Dairy Management Inc in Chicago. A hugely impressive communicator on marketing issues, Craig has a great knack for relating true personal experiences. Yesterday he told us about the girl guide who came round to his house looking for odd jobs. Craig said she could paint his porch for $50. She did the job so quickly, giving it two coats, that Craig gave her a $10 tip. "Thanks," she said. "And by the way it's not a Porche, it's a Lexus". Keep them coming, big man. They may not all be new, but they are timeless.

Friday 24th February

Come and learn how to handle your weapons, said the invitation to the City of London Firearms Department. How can I refuse, I thought? I mean, a man in my position needs as much bandit management prowess as he can muster. And so we all played cops and robbers for the evening at this pre Dairy Council Board bonding session, hosted by TDC chair The Great Alexander himself. It was quite a spectacular event, although in truth I found some of the instructions confusing. In one exercise on the simulator we had to separate the goodies from the baddies and then shoot the baddies. I got a yellow card from the instructor who remonstrated "Jim, you're pointing at the guests. The villains are on the screen."
 
In the end it was none other than TGA himself who won the silver bullet. Apart from the fact that it was rather poor form to win your own game, you couldn't help but admire his pump action. And it was no surprise either that his charming daughter Kim earned herself a podium finish – palpably demonstrating that she's a chip off the old Glock! One couple there were celebrating their silver wedding. At the end, I asked Heather if she'd enjoyed it. "Oh yes", she said. "It really went with a bang"

Playing with guns is certainly one way of seeking midweek evening entertainment. Another, it seems, is attending meetings of the Chartered Institute of Marketing. I was one of metaphorically "thousands" who this week packed to the rafters the penthouse of New Zealand House in London to listen to a presentation on ….the reform of the CAP! Lots of things about that don't make sense. Marketers talking about the CAP? Me, a member of a marketing forum? (Apparently, according to the group chairman, the CIM is the biggest private self interest group in the world. But I think he must have forgotten about the masons!) Well I have to say that it was an enthralling evening under the tutelage of Chris Horsman, executive editor of Informa Agra. Sure, in deference to the audience, the presentation was pitched somewhere between child's guide and key principles, but it was more than enough to ignite the creative testosterone of this engaged conclave of persuaders.

Chris, of course, possesses an acerbic wit, necessary to explain that although the CAP is negotiated by Agriculture Ministers, it's really decided by Finance Ministers. Or that although the Commission's proposals are presented as radical, nothing is fundamentally changing in either the economic or social functions of the CAP – it's really only about shuffling the money around amongst Member States. Or that although the reforms are supposed to achieve deregulation, they will actually deliver de-simplification. All of these contrasts were viewed by the marketers as simple issues of communication and easily resolvable with a decent advertising agency. This was especially true when Chris gave examples of countries maintaining two diametrically opposite positions on the same subject. Like the UK, for example, seeking simultaneously no cap on individual payments to farmers, and the elimination of direct (pillar 1) payments to farmers. That, in the view of the audience, is just a marketing problem in disguise.

But from this desk, all power to the UK negotiators in pursuit of their positions on the CAP. The UK's superior environmental performance through its investment in agri-environment schemes needs to be taken into account in the development of greening measures. The impact on certain sectors of a transition to flat rate payments has to be mitigated by some means. The UK must also secure a larger share of the Rural Development Budget.

Finally the recovery of the week awards. Runner up was Peter Kendall who, faced with anti badger cull protestors outside the NFU conference in Birmingham, prevailed on the audience inside to make sure they wore their security badges at all times. Only to receive a heckle that he was the only person in the building not wearing one! Winner was the aforesaid Chris Horsman who said that the Commission's proposal to take 7% out of productive land was for 'the birds and the bees …. and the badgers'. Quick as a flash, he changed badgers to squirrels. The marketers were nonplussed. To them it was only a detail of communication.

Friday 17th February

On 14th February, Scottish Rural Affairs Cabinet Secretary Richard Lochhead addressed a convocation of Scottish farmers in St Andrews. It was like a shepherd tending his flock. "I really welcome the opportunity to speak to you today" he said. "I always like to be close to my loved ones on Valentine's Day". If it wasn't for his little devil wink, they'd have had to hand out the Kleenex tissues.

Yes, love was all around at the NFU Scotland AGM where they combine the serious business of the day with a grand dinner featuring the finest of Scottish fare - a kind of Bacchanalian feast with mince! It was so good that one delegate was reported to have been seen knocking on the doors of the lift and asking for someone to open up and let him in. I had the pleasure once again to sit next to Gentleman Jim, ex NFUS President, now the king of beef at Quality Meat Scotland. I say it was a pleasure even though firstly some langoustines from my plate, then my glass of fine malt whisky, did go missing at various points in the evening. However, as ever, Jim was able to smooth things over with his legendary rapier wit. When I remarked that the musical group playing after dinner was 'pretty flexible', he said "Yes, they're a rubber band!"

But the star turn, and hero of the hour by far, was the aforementioned Mr Lochhead. If it wasn't for his political affiliation, i.e. more nationalistically radical than William Wallace, it would not have been out of place to call him Richard the Lionheart. I've been doing this a while now, and I've never heard a Government minister so in touch with his constituency. Across all the sectors, he reeled off a range of initiatives and interventions that he had made to further the cause of Scottish agriculture. He also catalogued a number of "work in progress" items, stating at all times that he would listen to the industry, and that he was there to help if necessary.

It's a little ironic then that it's Scotland who, more than any other part of the UK, face the greater challenges from the oncoming CAP Reform. The Commission's Single Farm Payment proposals, both in the context of greening (where farmers in Scotland will have great difficulty in meeting the crop diversification and biodiversity 'set aside' requirements) and the adoption of area payments (with Scotland currently on a historic base), will have a significant effect on incomes. The EU Commission, who were also represented in St Andrews, made it plain that any impact would be phased in and invited the Scottish Government to propose how this could be done. This will be a real challenge for the Cabinet Secretary. At the moment he can walk on water. I sincerely hope that this issue doesn't cause him to sink.

Sunk is, of course, what Rangers are with their chairman Craig White having now turned RFC into KFC. I'm told that a green and white banner now flies over Ibrox, which on closer inspection reads 'Asda opening here soon'. I heard the news in Amsterdam, home this week to frozen canals and badly behaved Ajax supporters. I was chairing an NPD Dairy Conference, but was distracted throughout. I mean, what can a man do to ease the pain in Amsterdam? Well no. I went out to dinner instead. And I was delighted when my dinner companion offered to walk me back to my hotel afterwards in case I was taken out by one of these wretched bicycles. A noble gesture I thought, given that she's seven months pregnant and had to get back to her own hotel after. It's only a game, eh?

Finally, I must tell you that prior to the NFUS conference I was enjoying a coffee in Edinburgh airport with Kenny Campbell, chair of the tartan dairy committee. We were awaiting the arrival of the plane carrying none other than Blawjaws, viz the man who runs the nation's Fallen Stock Company, Kenny having kindly offered to chauffeur us both North to the hooley. I was just complementing Kenny on how fine he looked in his uniform and peaked hat when we heard that BJ had missed his plane.

It seems that on his way to the airport he had collided with a mutt which had veered in front of his car. Unkinder commentators than me might have observed that he had spotted a business opportunity. Indeed, some reports have it that he was in the process of calculating a recovery fee when the poor little pooch's distraught owner (named Dug, I believe) appeared from behind a hedge.  Details are sketchy at this point, but it appears that BJ, realising that his jacket was now hanging from a shoogly nail, attempted a Vinnie Jones style resuscitation. But without a Bee Gees CD to hand, it was to no avail.

In the end the mutt was unharmed and with Dug and dog safely delivered to the vet, BJ was left to let the train take the strain from Edinburgh. Mischievously, and I regret this now, I told Kenny to advise him to get himself to Leuchars, from where it's a short walk to St Andrews. And it is, but only if you can walk across St Andrews Bay. BJ can do most things, but walk across water? Now if it had been Richard Lochhead, I'd have given him a fighting chance.

Friday 10th February

Our national pastime of self destruction continued to flourish this week. However the calamities of Murrayfield rapidly paled into insignificance as the English sports administrators and media combined again to claim the scalp of another sports professional. When there's an absence of quality, sack the manager is the mantra. Roll out Alan Shearer, and everything will be fine. In Brussels, I asked my friend Attilio, an Italian cheese manufacturer (and one time supplier of Compte cheese to the 300,000 strong Italian army) for a view. "Don't worry about Capello" he said. "He earns almost as much as me. Can't you find an English coach to take the job?." "No," I said. "There's no-one. The favourite at the moment is Sir Alex Ferguson, but I might throw my hat in the ring myself". "Hmm," he said. "I think you would be about as popular as Capello!"

I remain dedicated to the pursuit of defining dairy as the 'quality' calorie i.e. providing both energy and satisfaction. To develop it, I must find a suitable assessor, a kind of 'Calorie Court' where the people's judges sit and arbitrate. A possibility was the European Dairy Association's Sat Fat conference this week in the prestigious Concert Nobel in Rue D'Arlun in Brussels. OK, the players were a bit dodgy. The chief judge was the Queen Bee, the jury were eminent scientists and academics who are generally positive to dairy, and the public benches were full of European dairy industry officials. It wasn't quite a kangaroo court, but I was comfortable in my nine-rabbit Akubra 'Cattleman' style chapeau.

The intellectual nadir was sprung when an otherwise sparkling  witness from the European Parliament, talking about health claims, warned the assembly that what science proved beyond all doubt, would not necessarily become policy, because the European Parliament was big on emotion. Ah, I thought, it's a bit like the English Football Association then! This felony was then compounded by another witness from DG Sanco in the European Commission, who said that although she had listened assiduously to the evidence from the scientists in the room, the Commission's advice came from EFSA, and the scientists there took a different view. And no, there was nothing wrong with the process of scientific evaluation she said (yes there is: Ed). Right, so there's science and there's science, both provided by equally eminent scientists with the same professional qualifications? Yes, is the answer, a point picked up again by our sparkling MEP who queried "With all these opinions, what's the poor European Parliament to do?" Turn to emotion, of course.

So the issue for the industry is should we do the same? Just turn the whole thing over to the marketing department, and forget the science? No, is the answer. If we do that, we'll be exposed rapidly by the Dairy Mail. The challenge for the industry is to win the scientific battle and express good science in emotionally satisfying terms. The pursuit of the quality calorie must be the target, and the consumers, not the legislators, must be the judges.

Finally, some perceptive one liners from my Brussels foray, picked up by me when the microphones were switched off. For example, a German colleague, on meeting a gentleman from Greece for the first time at the Sat Fat event, "I often get confused over how many noughts there are in billions and how many are in trillions," he said. "Is it like that in your country"? Then there was an Irish observer on the EU Commission's proposals for a 7% set aside of agricultural land for birds to nest etc. "Oh, it's not so bad. The figure includes scrubland and we all need a little scrub from time to time".  But best of all was EDA President Werner Buck, referring to the expiry of his term of office later in the year: "Yes, the Buck stops here" he said. Wonderful.

Friday 3rd February

This week I rid myself of the tyranny of the Blackberry. It was a momentously courageous decision but the right one. Controversial too, because it is a little known fact that I was the trailblazer for the Blackberry in the British dairy industry. I had a friend who worked for the phone company in charge of product development. And I was one of his test panel, trying out the prototype (remember the old blue ones?). It would sit on my desk and everyone who came in tried it and was amazed by it. Not surprisingly.

But now it's gone, and when I was asked what I wanted to replace it, I uttered those words seldom spoken by a Scotsman, "I'll have an Apple". Sure, I'm now having to have my thumbs sharpened so that I can use it properly, but I feel liberated. No more error message number 603. No more broken fingernails trying to get the battery out to restart it, and no more phoning the world every time something twitches in your trouser pocket. Everyone will be delighted about that.

I have a busy week ahead. It starts tomorrow in Edinburgh with the ritual slaughter of the Auld Enemy at Murrayfield. Then it meanders through London for more Dairy 2020 project deliberations (I hope everyone has a good night's sleep in advance of that one), to Brussels later in the week for my increasingly infrequent injection of Eurobabble. I used to be a Brussels junkie, but I'm feeling much better now.

But in between is what I hope will be the most illuminating activity. It's a meeting of the Westminster Forum on Obesity, and it's where I expect to hear all about the latest part of the Department of Health's Responsibility Deal. This time it's on a calorie reduction pledge.  This much maligned initiative is one that the dairy industry has been trying to engage with for months, but it has been tortuously difficult. The fact that we all have to pay a conference fee to hear what it's about is a small manifestation of this. I would have thought that since dairy products go in to 98% of British households and remain tremendously popular, the Department of Health would have been straining at the leash to engage and get us signed up …. which we are keen to do. However, so far they have maintained a policy of superficial willingness underpinned by meaningful practical detachment. I'll be putting all these points at the Westminster Forum on Tuesday. Constructively, of course. But will they listen? Well, in my experience, engagement on messages delivers. Delivering messages, on the other hand, doesn't engage. Simple, really.

I'm writing the final paragraph of this blog on the M40. All around me is reconstruction. That is wholly appropriate, because reconstructing is what I am doing to the blog after the original planned final paragraph ran into ..... eh, "technical difficulties" with its subject matter. But every cloud has a silver lining and the space gained gives me the opportunity of sharing with you the breaking news from New Zealand reported in the British Medical Journal that an enriched milk can help alleviate gout. Now I don't know much about gout, in fact until I came to work in England, I had always thought that it was a variant of Guinness, but the Pieman, a chronic sufferer, is elated with the news. I may choose to share this encouraging product development with the health professionals at the Westminster Forum on Tuesday. All I need to find out is whether you drink the milk, or dip your feet in it. In either case, it's the "milky" way to go!

Friday 27th January

In my experience, the velvet glove almost always triumphs over the clenched fist. Take last Sunday afternoon in my living room for example. The boss came in with one of these pop up tents. Instantly it snapped into shape, obscuring my view of the television. "I've joined Occupy Esher", she declared, "and this is a peaceful protest. I'm protesting about women's rights to watch television programmes. I could be here for a while", she smiled pleasantly.

I couldn't understand it. We'd just watched Man City v Spurs, and the Arsenal v Man Utd game was just about to start. I think she'd spotted that Real Madrid v Atletico was coming on later, followed by Malaga v Barcelona. But she was so nice about it, even asked what I wanted for lunch! Eventually, we struck a deal. I traded off an uninterrupted viewing of Man Utd (with no questions to be asked like 'what's the score now?', or 'who is no.68 for whites'. You know the kind of stuff.) and sacrificed the Spanish games. As a sweetener, I also had to throw in an agreement not to shout at the TV during 'Countryfile'. I mean I do enough of that Monday to Friday, don't I?

A happy ending to a tense situation, all delivered by constructive firmness and pleasantness. Pleasantness is indeed a very powerful strategic weapon. For me, it is no coincidence that there seems to have been a general move towards more constructive debate in the last year or so. Not just in the UK, but across Europe generally. This, of course, has coincided with a positive move on milk prices across the EU. It seems to me that the organisations in the EU whose strategies are worked around anger and confrontation have subsided a little, while the stock of the voices of reason and constructive collaboration has generally risen.

Indeed, this week I spotted two examples from around the world where confrontation is patently not working. In Australia, for example, where the farm response to the ongoing supermarket milk price wars continues to be angrily to berate the competition authorities for not taking action to stop lower consumer prices. That's what it amounts to, really. Much better to do what they've done in other countries and get consumers on their side first. That's what persuades Government opinions to change. Then, in Portugal, the police broke into a supermarket this week and confiscated all the milk because of allegations of below cost selling. Dramatic, even sensational for sure, but it's not the long term answer to the issue. No, it ain't what you do…… etc etc.

So will this spirit of co-operation and progress continue in the UK? Well, coming up are the farming union elections in England and Scotland. The hustings are in full swing as I write. There are candidates who are amongst the finest exponents of both strategic alternatives standing. It will be interesting to see who the winners are. It will tell us a lot about the future.

Finally, as we know, in all walks of life the prizes and accolades most often go to people who are poor performers who haul themselves up to the average. Those who deliver high levels of excellence and consistently maintain them are taken for granted. How refreshing to see the exception prove the rule this week with the award on Australia Day of Membership of the General Division of the Order of Australia to the great global communicator and friend of the British dairy industry, Mr George Robert Davey. He is now proudly entitled to use the initials AM after his name, which has surprised his colleagues who have more generally seen him as a night owl than a morning person. So congratulations from all of us in the UK to George for this thoroughly merited award.

And, of course, it is with some modesty that some of his UK colleagues can claim to have played an instrumental part in George's climb to the summit, even if it's just been by following the wrong path so that he could see clearly the right one. My role, over the years, has been to guide George through the myriad of technological change in communication technology and I've always felt he's listened. So it almost seems churlish to use this occasion of homage and celebration to make one more impassioned plea. Georgie, please install Skype on your ipad. You are now the only AM in the country without it.

Friday 20th January

The Semex conference in Glasgow is designed to allow hoards of English farmers to start the year wallowing in a spa of 'See you Jimmy' style Scottish sophistication. It's a tonic which sets them up for the rest of the year. I don't often go, because I'm already endowed with more than enough 'see you Jimmy' mannerisms. But this year I did. Lots of my members were speaking, and it helps, you know, to hear what they're thinking.

They were, as ever, erudite, persuasive, informative, and convincing … just what you would expect from a Dairy UK member. But for me, the jaw dropping moment came when the excellent Caroline Drummond, CEO of LEAF, revealed some family secrets.  Performing a scheduled double act on her own (her co-presenter had to pull out) she confided that she had lent her pedometer to farmer husband Phil "for safe keeping". On the first day, he registered a score of 27,000 steps by breakfast. And, wait for it, 66,000 steps for the day. Help ma' boab, is this typical for a farmer? Whatever, this sets a target for all the farmers that I come into contact with to beat. So to Messrs Raymond, Bennett, Newberry, Campbell, Edwards and Ward, who is up for the challenge? Every little helps.

Stung by recent 'they only sing when they're winning' criticisms, I should mention that when I was in Glasgow I took the opportunity to visit Celtic Park. Described by some as Paradise, I have to say that although chillingly atmospheric, for me it fell a little short of the Utopia depicted by Cold Play. But I was bowled over by a monstrous tubular structure being constructed right across from the main gate. My inquiries revealed that this was, in fact, a velodrome, intended for the Commonwealth Games due in Glasgow in 2015. Why they built it so close to Paradise, I have no idea. I can only assume that if any of the bhoys have to get on their bikes during the January transfer window, then they won't have far to go!

Back in London, I was surprised and encouraged by the progress of the UK's most closely guarded secret, the International Dairy Federation. Its profile in the UK is undeservedly low, but globally it has a reach covering nearly 80% of world milk production. It is the 'from the horse's mouth' route to finding out what is happening in the rest of the world on all economic, technical, scientific, marketing, environmental and nutritional issues. I'm sure if you asked them, they could give you some racing tips as well. The IDF in the UK is run from the Dairy UK office and the main backers are Dairy UK and DairyCo, but everyone is welcome to the party.

Its steering group meeting this week generated a mine of information on activities across the disciplines, and particular focus was on issues which could be brought back and implemented in the UK. There are lots, ranging from mastitis projects to marketing insights, ideas born and nurtured in the IDF, and now being implemented by our dairy companies. My particular attention was drawn to some work we are now doing in the UK which aims to introduce greater consistency into antibiotic testing results. If this turns out to be productive, a long running problem will be resolved.

A strong message from Semex this week was that our outlook in the UK must be more international. Awareness of the IDF and participation should be the first step in that process.

Friday 13th January

 I don't think it's too early now to start looking for a site for the new Embassy for Scotland in London. The sooner the better, I feel. At the very least it'll stop Food Minister Caroline Spelman having to a) find out where Scotland is, and b) trek all the way up there to dole out praise (as she has done this week) for the wonderful work being done in the Scottish food and drinks industry.  She went to a fish processor while she was there, which I found interesting. I thought she would have had enough Salmond for a lifetime!

Praise is of course deserved and welcome. And I hope that while she was there, Caroline picked up a little understanding of the Gaelic craft and guile which has generated her praise, and which Scottish missionaries already practice in London, because her role is to replicate it in England. She'll find the industry here ready and willing to help. Doubtless she'll have passed on what she's learned to Jim Paice, who will be on his way on Monday to pontificate in Glasgow. "Céad míle failte" is what they'll say to him on his way in to Scotland. "Tha mi buidheach dhiot" is what he wants to hear on his way out.

This week I've been in the City talking to what in our accounts we call 'professional advisers'. I noticed that the Occupy London protest outside St Paul's Cathedral is still going on. I was relieved that I couldn't see any of the tents so far claiming to be the Scotland embassy, but I suppose it's early days. I did, however, spot a sign that said 'the bankers have taken our government. We have to take it back'.  Well, yes, the bankers are a problem, but it's the lawyers that worry me.  Anyone who has to deal with pension funds knows that the system in the UK is designed specifically so that small businesses have to write out huge cheques to legal advisers. It's no wonder that by the time these businesses get to the bankers for investment loans, they get refused because they've already been stripped clean by the lawyers.

My discussions this time were with competition lawyers trying to understand the intricacies of the Commission's Dairy Package. Trust me, the gift of understanding of all of us - officials, lawyers, and simple apparatchiks like us - is mercifully absent at the moment. As we talked, more and more examples of the problems of converting political intention into clear pragmatic operating rules emerged. I use only one example to illustrate the problem, and it relates to the new Producer Organisations which are envisaged. We know that they will need Government approval. At the same time we know that they can operate internationally. We also know that lots of milk, products, and processing facility ownerships straddle national borders. We also know that there is more than one 'Government' in the UK. So which Government gives recognition, and if there is a problem, which competition authority intervenes?

The one which gives the softest passage of course? No? My mind drifted to Sorrento where I go on holiday and see so many English brides and bridegrooms to be, waiting for their nuptials. I want to tell them 'don't do it here, because you'll have to come back here for the divorce', but the boss always stops me from giving them advice, perhaps fortunately. Big bills to resolve these issues may lie ahead. We shall have to wait and see.

Finally I have disconcerting news from Canada where the Queen Bee has been discovering that the rocks in the Rockies are not good for the health. Details are sketchy, but it appears that our snowboarding diva made a bee line for a large one on an icy crevasse.  But unlike in the office, it did not move out of the way when instructed to do so. The 'nice boys' from the Mountain rescue had to be called in, to roll her back to the bottom, sacrificing, it seems, a chunk of bone which now remains on the icy slopes as part of the construction of the next slalom course.

The poor Queen Bee is now ruefully reflecting that although exquisitely formed on the outside, her knees have an inner construction broadly similar to that of Gazza and that her Sean-nós dancing days may be over. We all wish her well for a swift recovery, and encourage her to consider that every cloud has a silver lining. In the QB's case it is that when the pilot on the return flight asks the passengers to respect the 'brace position', she will already be there! Let's be thankful for small mercies. 

Friday 6th January

It's been a whirlwind start to the New Year. On Tuesday night, I found myself in the Directors' Box at White Hart Lane, swanking it with celebrity hairdressers, pop stars and football legends. Twenty four hours later, I was with a group of peasant dancers in a Madeiran mountain village where the boss and I have come to walk the Levadas. Frankly, I had trouble working out which was closer to real life. For sure, the peasants were better dressed.

The world just gets crazier and crazier. On 2nd January, I bumped into one of my daughters who told me that she had already fulfilled her New Year resolutions. 'What were they', I asked? 'To own a Mulberry handbag' she said.

Two days earlier, on Hogmanay, her sister, who was hootenannying in Wales, sent me a text. It said that a guy was buying her drinks who had played in the World Cup, and in something called a Grand Slam. I replied saying that that was the opening line of every single Welshman in a bar. Astoundingly, by return came a photo of the genuine article. So the myth, first communicated to me by Roger Evans many years ago, that if you were picked to play rugby for Wales, you never had to buy another drink, was well and truly exploded.

On returning to work on 3rd January, I was met at Waterloo Station by a phalanx of leaflet distributors who showered me with promotions for city health centres. I sensed that while they were ignoring quite a few commuters, they seemed to be queuing up to press a pamphlet into my hand. I just don't understand why I'm so popular with these people.

Yes, there's no getting away from it, diet and exercise is the name of the game in January. I was no sooner back in the office than the Pieman and I were being fitted for our new pedometers, issued to us by The Dairy Council. Of course, you can be 100% confident in the nutritional advice given out by The Dairy Council, but I wonder if the same can be said of the Department of Health. How disappointing that their New Year Change4Life Supermeals initiative says nothing at all about dairy. No surprise then that the campaign has been roundly condemned in the media by health gurus and professionals.

At Dairy UK, we've been working continuously with the DoH on their Responsibility Deal. They continue to tell us privately that dairy plays an important, nay crucial, role in a balanced healthy diet. But when it comes to campaigns such as Supermeals, their words are seldom converted into actions. Even more disconcertingly, their approach differs from that of the Government departments in the rest of the UK, where dairy consumption is supported enthusiastically. In Scotland, for example, nutrition still comes under the FSA. The FSA is consulting on whether this should change. Perhaps, on the evidence of Supermeals it shouldn't.

I've been trying out my new pedometer on the Levadas. I think I'm going to have to send it back. For a start, it seems to give no extra credit for a vertical step compared with a horizontal step. Secondly, it doesn't continue to tick over while you're on the plane, as promised by the Queen Bee. That's no good. My plan was that my return trip to the UK would deliver a year's worth of credits. Oh well, it looks as though I'll have to give the pies a miss after all.

Friday 23rd December

We like to keep things traditional here in the last day in the office before Christmas. Normally it's Christmas Eve, so we break up mid-afternoon and head off to the pub. The staff all give me a Christmas present, then I head down the road to Selfridges where I buy the boss's Christmas present…..assuming of course that their sale has started.

This year, we're having an in-house party and yesterday, the Queen Bee suggested that she and I do the catering. "That way, we can make sure it's healthy!" she said.  We agreed a division of labour: I'd do the prep, she'd do the cooking. So this morning, I've been opening healthy packets of crisps, separating healthy cocktail sausages from their cling film covers, and at the request of the Pieman, matching a mouthwatering range of healthy pork pies with the appropriate healthy relishes. The Queen Bee, meanwhile, has been putting them on plates and finger bowls. What a palaver!

All that's left to do now is to mull the wine. And my God, we don't half need a drink after the traumas of constructing our global electronic Christmas card……some pictures of London taken over the last couple of days interspersed with some portrait studies of life at Dairy UK. That was the easy part. But of course when you compile a 10mb computer file from different sources you have to stretch and squeeze the photos to make them fit. "Wakey" Wakeling has had a hell of a time acting as 'arbiter of taste'. Yip, while the ladies of The Dairy Council are happy to have their shoulders broadened, they're not so happy with anything further down. So poor "Wakey" has had to create images normally only seen in the Hall of Mirrors, and a fine job he's done too. As a reward, he's getting first dibs at the healthy treacle and suet pudding at the party later today, and he genuinely deserves it.

But the reward from these initiatives comes from the replies we receive from all round the world, and we have friends and colleagues everywhere. Not the least interesting are the different things that the different countries hope for in the coming year. Everyone hopes for world peace of course (no chance), and the others range from '2012 the year of miracles' (Russia) to 'Who's got all the butter? (Norway). Wonderful, and much appreciated. Of course I'm right behind the peace aspiration, and I'd settle for it just in the UK, for a start.

So from me to all the staff at Dairy UK and The Dairy Council across the country, a personal thanks for the contribution each and every one of them has made to the work of the organisation and to the industry this year. To all the people who have been teased playfully in this column and who have tolerated the column's sense of humour with great patience, and  to all our friends, and sometimes critics, at home and abroad, let me share with you the Christmas message we received from our colleagues in South Korea 'Happiness keeps you sweet. Trials make you strong. Sorrows make you humble. Success keeps you glowing & God keeps you going. May this New Year all your dreams turn into reality [Ed's note: Starting possibly with approval for a hard wire connection for our teleconferencing facility by Westminster Council] and all your efforts into great achievements.'

Merry Christmas.

Jim

Friday 16th December

God rest ye merry gentlemen. That'll be the mantra following Dairy UK/The Dairy Council's office Christmas party today. We're going round London on a Treasure Hunt. At the moment it's pouring, but we have a keen expectation that by the time we head off, the rain will have turned to sleet. The Queen Bee has turned up in something akin to a snowsuit, and looks like Nanook of the North. Me? I just look abominable!

I got some early training in by walking from Waterloo Station to the office, and it was truly an education. I've always considered Jingle Bells to be one of the finest pieces of music ever written, with the Salvation Army version unchallenged on musical interpretation. But in the station, I learned the SA band have moved on to a Scott Joplin Jingle Bell rag. Whilst in Oxford Street the Ebony Caribbean steel band was drawing huge approval for their Jingle Bell calypso. If you haven't started your Christmas shopping yet, and I know that most employed within the British dairy industry won't have, particularly the men, then it's worth heading down to Oxford Street to check them out. Yes, an eminent and famous dairy industry executive attending the office this week spoke for all of us as he headed mournfully into the West End complaining that his wife's Christmas present was the only one in the year that she refused to buy for herself.

In fact it's been a whole week of education for me. At the FDF reception I learned that Scottish statisticians are reporting that consumption of vegetables in the country has now doubled……but only since the Pandas arrived at Edinburgh zoo. I also learned that if the Pandas do have progeny they will indeed be classified as Scottish because [CENSORED –Editorial Discretion. Jim, you can't say that, not even in a self-deprecating way]. I was also impressed by the FDF's 20% growth by 2020 ambitions for the food industry in the UK. That's 2.2% a year by my reckoning, way in advance of the growth outlook for the UK economy as a whole, but gratifyingly very much in line with the current performance of both the global and UK dairy economies. So, challenging, but certainly possible, and a target well worth pursuing.

More intriguing was the challenge posed at an event at St James's Palace on Wednesday, where, in the presence of HRH the Duke of Edinburgh, the campaign to have a national agricultural fair in Hyde Park in 2013 was launched. It started well. I quickly learned from the organisers that because I was in the room, I was one of the 100 most influential influencers in agriculture. That was nice, I thought, if somewhat generous. But of course I knew what was coming. £3m is, as I understand it, the amount needed in starter funds for the project. And as I looked round the room I saw a gleaming polished collection of avid listeners. But I know from personal experience, that all of them, to a man, couldn't be separated from a 5p coin in their fists by an Exocet missile. Furthermore, there was no-one in the room from those generous benefactors that had stepped up to the plate the last time the event took place in the early nineties, the retailers.

So this one is going to be tough, make no mistake, although the aims and objectives of the project are sound and indeed have universal support. These are to showcase the British agriculture industry to consumers, to educate children about the source of their food, and to spearhead an export drive. But of course where there's a will there's always a way. After all, this week at the O2 arena, I watched some people pay £20 for a programme at the Duran Duran concert. Proving once again that value for money is a matter of perception and not reality.

Friday 9th December

It's sunglasses all round at Dairy UK this week. We've had the office painted. White, of course, to reflect our culture and outlook. Brilliant white actually, and to say the painters have been over exuberant is an understatement. In fact we actually lost the Pieman for a few hours. He was wearing a white shirt the day the painters came round and we think he was painted into the background. We only found him when a Pieman shaped hole magically appeared on the wall of the meeting room just as lunch was being served. We've had to drop "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" from our repertoire of Christmas Carols at the office party. It's just too close to home.

The highlight of the week so far has been the Dairy Council's Festival of the Cheeses at The Royal Hospital.  This truly is a wonderful event. The bekilted Dairy Council chair quoted Robert Burns magnificently at the lunch which, being a fellow Scottish romantic, I understood perfectly. But I could see that the great 'Chopper' Harris sitting next to me was bemused. "Rub-a-dub-dub. Time for the grub", I translated. Brevity is not always best.

Earlier, Chopper had regaled us all with some great football memories but none better than those relating to George Best, including…. 'I was with him when he was asked by a journalist what club he would like to manage when he finished playing. "Stringfellows", said Best'. Or once, after Georgie had rung rings round him in the first half, Chopper had opined at half time that the only way to stop him would be to break his leg. But that would mean getting sent off. Quick as a flash, the manager (Tommy Docherty) had told him, 'go ahead. They'll miss him a hell of a lot more than we'll miss you'.

Earlier in the week, I'd been in Brussels when the announcement about the finalisation of the Dairy Package came out. No-one working closely on this issue was surprised at the outcome. It was exactly as expected, and almost exactly in line with the proposals made by the Commission right at the start of their trialogue discussions with the Council and the Parliament.  As you will have seen from various press comments, everyone was disappointed by the Parliament's climb down, but for very different reasons. In our case we wanted normal competition arrangements to apply to Producer Organisations. So did the Parliament initially, but they compromised. Others wanted mandatory contracts. So did the Parliament initially, but they compromised. Some wanted a bigger share of milk supplies for Producer Organisations. So did the Parliament initially, but they compromised.

And what did the Parliament compromise their position on all these major structural issues for? The right of the French and Italian industries to control the supplies of PDO/PGI cheeses to the market, that's what. A good deal then for the Parliament? You can be the judge, or perhaps the MEPs will when it comes back to the plenary session of the Parliament for ratification. All I know is, it would never have happened in Chopper's day.

So now we have to get on with it, and explore ways in which we can use the package to best advantage in the UK.  The Government will consult on the ongoing degree of regulation that's necessary on contracts. Everyone's best interests are served by the voluntary route. It behoves us all to work to that objective.

Friday 2nd December

I think there are only two things that have ever frightened the life out of me. One was several years ago at Ibrox v the bhoys and he was called Kenny Dalglish. The other was this week when the lights were switched on in my head on the potential impact of social media.

Kenny Dalglish can justifiably be called a legend. And mercifully the Queen Bee sought my advice this week on which football legends have played for Chelsea FC. She was looking for someone who would impress the Chelsea pensioners at next week's Cheese Ceremony. She and Chesserina, one of our media advisers, had come up with Mr X - so what did I think? Well, if Mr X was a legend, he had certainly managed to conceal it from me. I'd never heard of him. 'How does he qualify?', I asked. 'Well, it seems he's fathered 11 children by 10 different mothers. 'Surely that's legendary,' they beamed.

At this point I politely asked the ladies to step aside. This was men's work (in much the same way as when I asked the boss why she carries a massive great hairbrush around in her suitcase, which uses up half of our Easyjet allowance, she says it's too complicated for a man). The outcome is that next week, sitting proudly amongst our ranks, will be none other than the great Ron 'Chopper' Harris. This is a man who after 874 first team appearances for the Blues, including 2 FA cup titles, truly embodies the spirit of 'they don't like it up 'em', and who has  earned the right to sit shoulder by shoulder in the company of our great British military veterans and our Great British cheeses. That, ladies, is a proper legend. Because compared with Mr X, if you ask Chopper to 'show us your medals', then he most assuredly can.

On social media, yes, I'm occasionally a twit, but so far not a tweeter. My reluctance is that I feel it can become an obsession, like Strictly Come Dancing, Garrow's Law, and Coronation St are for the boss. For millions it is an undoubted pleasure. But the scary part is when it is used for what I would consider to be evil. This week, courtesy of DairyCo, we were looking at some monitoring of what was being said in the various social media platforms on badger culling.  Two things bother me. One is how easy it is manipulate information and spread it rapidly. A lie repeated often enough eventually becomes a truth. The other is how the contributors all appear to have an equal voice. On matters of fact, the opinion of an acknowledged expert can be equal to that of disgruntled ne'er-do-well, employed to spread malice. You can't do that as easily with regular media where someone analyses before publication.

However we are where we are and we have to recognise that. We shall have to gear up and participate, and reluctantly or not, that will have to include me.

I'm writing this in the casualty department of Edinburgh Royal Infirmary while I wait for my big sister to be plastered up after a fall as we were going out for dinner. There's nothing good can come out of a broken ankle, except of course that after years of subservience, I've been able to point out to her that having seen lots of people fall out of Bailey's bar in Stockbridge, this is the first time I've ever seen anyone fall in.

Friday 25th November

Disturbed by the Leveson inquiry, yesterday the Horse Whisperer, the Pieman and myself went to visit our own agricultural redtop at their offices in Preston. This involved taking a train. I don't much like trains, but the Horse Whisperer loves them. To while away the time we told each other train stories. The Horse Whisperer's was the best. It seems he had a pal at university whose father worked on the railway. This gave him unlimited first class rail travel. So every night the pal went on train journeys to do his revision, at the same time scoring the free lavish scoff.

By the time we had reached Wigan, we had exhausted all reasonable lines of conversation. I was keen to develop my views on the RFU with the Pieman, but he didn't want to know. Out of respect I didn't push it. I mean why kick a man when he's down. So I mean why quiz him on the question that if your team manager resigns after three years accused of a lack of experience, why turn individually to the players with absolutely no managerial experience for a solution? No, there was no point in mentioning this, not even now. So I'm not going to repeat it.

Desperate to avoid any more discussion, the Pieman took comfort in his press cuttings. "Hold on", he cried. "There's a full report in the Farmers Guardian of your discussions yesterday at the Dairy Supply Chain Forum on the Voluntary Code of Practice. I thought you said there was an understanding that in the interests of constructive progress there should be no media coverage." I did, I thought. Maybe they've hacked my phone. Perhaps I'm a celebrity. I wonder if I'll be called in front of the Leveson inquiry.

But no of course, and with the interest in this subject, inevitably there are going to be media inquiries. There will also be those who understandably feel that the use of the media can expedite matters.  But this is something which needs properly thought through and it's important that we get it right. And with a positive will, which there is, there will be great value in ensuring that the law of unintended consequences doesn't raise its ruinous head on this issue.  So, to whom it may concern, "dinnae fash yersels" is my message. There will be white smoke emerging from the chimney before long.

As there will now likely be from the EU Council building in Brussels on the issue of the EU Dairy Package. Possibly as soon as Monday next, when the member state governments meet in committee and all the outstanding issues are likely to be resolved. So, before you know it, new words are going to be becoming common parlance in the dairy industries all over Europe. Such as 'Producer Organisations'  in the UK; or the term 'contracts' in France and Germany; and even more spectacularly the word 'rules' in Italy. So, preparation is now the mantra and first to move will become the winner. For those Dairy UK members who have not been following the dossier, particularly the smaller companies, we'll be having a seminar to take you through it.

On the train back from Preston we were reduced to talking about whether or not it was possible to milk a bull. Relatively new to the industry, the Horse Whisperer was agog with interest. "So how do you milk a bull?" he said. "Very carefully," said the wise old Pieman. I hate trains!

Friday 18th November

History was created in Edinburgh on Wednesday, and I was there. In amongst the cattle pens of the AngriScot cow show I watched a man called Robert Slater take his tonsils out, lay them besides his sandwiches in a Milanda wrapper, and establish a new world record by downing a pint of milk in 2.29 seconds. So he's now firmly at the top of the leader board for the Milk Challenge. But I know that even this time can be beaten, because I was at University with a girl who could down a pint of Guinness in 1.8 seconds. This year our office Christmas do will include an in-house Milk Challenge, so it's over to the Queen Bee and the ladies of the Dairy Council to show the way.

Otherwise, AngriScot was an excellent event. I don't know why they give it that name.  The only unseemly moment was when I had to remove ex NFUS President, now Quality Beef Scotland  chairman, 'Gentleman' Jim McLaren from the front row of the seminar session, because it had been reserved for vegetarians. Oh, and another disappointment was my failure to meet the 'new' top order NFUS hierarchy of Nigel Miller (President) and Scott Walker (CEO). To the best of my knowledge I've never shaken hands with either of them, and that's a pity because they deserve to be congratulated for their initiatives in the milk sector. But hopefully I'll get to meet them soon, particularly Scott, because I was one of his biggest fans when he was a pop star in the 70s. He used to think that 'The sun ain't gonna shine anymore". But look at him now. He is the sun!

Earlier in the week the latest, and billed in advance to be the final, working group meeting of the Dairy 2020 project took place in London. In the event it was agreed to have a further meeting to give due and proper consideration to the action points which will ultimately emerge from this forensic scrutiny of the factors influencing the industry's future. There was some hesitation before a delay was agreed. But the panickers should fear not. Mature decisions are more sustainable than immature ones, and more time to reflect will yield dividends, and above all deliver more balance.

One of my objectives in the project is to highlight the need for more investment in nutritional science to underpin the credentials of our products. Although I get nods of approval from round the room when I make this point, when the wordsmiths fill up the yellow stickers on the walls, my point keeps getting sidetracked. So I must find a different and better way of convincing the wordsmiths. A new line of thinking struck me on receipt of an email from one of my daughters, Cool As. It was a photo of a huge promotional pack being given away by Alpro this week at Waterloo Station, to which she had added "So how come Alpro give out breakfast and coffee for free in Waterloo Station, and "real milk" costs 44p? Look at the stash I scored today!"

Well of course that encapsulates the problem. But it encouraged me to consider that what we should be advocating in dairy, our mantra almost, is "the pursuit of the quality calorie". How many times do we eat something 'indulgent' and then say "I wish I hadn't eaten that". It failed to give satisfaction or pleasure for the number of calories consumed. Whereas the "quality calorie" delivers pleasure, and nutritional richness, and, importantly, sustainability in all its forms. And dairy, unquestionably fits that bill. I wonder if presented in these terms, the wordsmiths of the 2020 project would be more receptive? I'll give it a try, and see how I get on.

Finally, in the bear pits which sadly often define the limits of my comfort zone, I seldom meet Pudsey. But today Pudsey is everywhere, and the nation's conscience is being repeatedly pricked over the difficulties faced by children in real need. I urge everyone to give generously to this most worthwhile of causes. At the same time, please take some time to reward the kids who are not those that Children in Need is there to help, but are nevertheless deserving. I do so most Fridays when I meet up with my pack for a wind-down swallie. Most weeks it's a wind up occasion, but the principle always prevails. And apart from the importance of recognising simple respect, we must always remember one important fact. One day, for better or worse, your children will be the ones who choose your nursing homes. None of us will escape that. So, pax vobiscum ... and long may it continue!

Friday 11th November

In my sphere of operation this week, there's been a lot of discussion about the burgeoning practice of people posing as Scots in order to win favour. This is because, as we now know, that's how Manchester United acquired Sir Alex Ferguson. Not that long ago, a girl tried to do that to me. But I spotted the chicanery immediately, because in our welcome, she kissed me on both cheeks. A Scottish girl would never have done that. They always get it right first time.

Impressively, there was a strong Scottish theme on Thursday at The Dairy Council's splendid conference for Health Professionals on Milk in Sport. It started with a quote from Hippocrates which was profound, but contained two spelling errors. I've always been interested in the Glen Hoddle karma that everyone comes back to earth in a position reflecting their behaviour in their first life. On this basis, I can only assume that Hippocrates has returned as Rab C Nesbitt. He of course is an expert on Scottish nutrition. This week he offered the information that he'd always thought 'fruit' was the collective term for gas bills and paper clips …. because that was all there ever was in the fruit bowl in his house.

However, as I reflect on the conference, and the subsequent discussion at the Dairy UK Board meeting earlier today, I feel more than ever that we are still underselling the positive nutritional characteristics of milk. On Thursday, it came across time and time again that the academics and nutrition professionals around the world believe that the weight of evidence indicates that milk aids recovery after sport. It helps muscle recovery by reducing the muscle soreness associated with exercise and even helps build muscle. That's what the protein in milk does. The electrolytes or salts in milk help with rehydration and the carbohydrates helps fuel athletic performance. As good as or better than expensive sports drinks. That's not me talking, it's the scientific experts and advisors to elite athletes performing in both the able bodied and disabled Olympic Games.

I remain baffled, or probably more accurately naïve, on one aspect - why different global scientists form different opinions from what appear to be the same empirical studies. I've written about this extensively before and have always put it down to the fact that competition for business was healthy and rife amongst the global scientific colleges and research centres. But from Thursday I've taken two messages. First, that the dairy industry around the world is still unnecessarily duplicating research. And that's one that Donald from the Global Dairy Platform mustn't duck. Second, that it may be better in future to rebalance research funds more in the direction of methodology as opposed to the science itself.

Finally I have to pay tribute to one conference speaker, Mr Mark Spalding from Dunbarton. Not just for the fantastic work he's doing in getting underprivileged kids in the West of Scotland (of which I used to be one) out of back closes and on to sports fields on Friday nights; but also for the oratory of his presentation delivered in vintage 'Parliamo Glasgow'. Gallus pride oozed from this man, as he validated his work with a range of upside down analogies. Such as … "the police come along and judge the 'hardest shot' competition at the football. It rewards the kids, and makes sure that by the time they're 17 they all know what a police speed gun looks like'. Or, 'we also teach Street Art. Yes, it's controversial, but for sure Dunbarton streets have now got the finest graffiti in Scotland'.

A fitting contributor to a fine conference. And one day, who knows? Maybe an underprivileged kid from the west of Scotland could end up becoming an underprivileged adult from Surrey, working in a foreign language, for the British dairy industry? Stranger things have happened!

Friday 4th November

Does anyone care how England get on in Euro 2012? I mean, with the disappointment of the rugby, and the cricketing embarrassment in India, not to mention John Terry etc. the question is, will English sports interest diminish, liked happened in Australia? They were once top of everything, now virtual ignominy has set in. When I was there recently, I even witnessed an Aussie congratulate a Kiwi on a netball victory.

Well let me tell you I care. I care deeply. Not for sporting reasons, obviously, but because we're trying to fix the date of the 2012 Dairy UK Annual Dinner, and it threatens to clash with a Euro 2012 quarter final match. Obviously if England get there it would be a distraction. I mean would there be room on the tables for 200 boxes of Kleenex tissues?

I'll tell you else who cares - Sarah from the Dairy Council. She's getting married on 23rd June next year and that's the date of the Euro 2012 semi final. I mean, its only 48 hours away from the longest day of the year. Just as well if she's going to have to get a wedding and an England match in. The draw for the finals is on 2nd of December. It could set the pattern for a lifetime!

Now, quite unusually, it's time for a bit of a girn. Amidst the clamour for financial stringency, Governments throughout the UK are stealthily transferring costs from the public purse to the dairy industry. Recently the Department of Energy and Climate Change issued proposals to transfer responsibility for monitoring their own Climate Change legislation from themselves to the Environment Agency, who will of course obligingly step in at a price. To me, this deserves a yellow card.

Last week DARD in Northern Ireland announced plans to privatise veterinary inspections for export certificates for dairy and meat products. This is likely to increase savagely the cost to dairy companies who are the most prolific exporters of dairy products anywhere in the UK. This to me is red card territory, particularly since the decision was apparently made months ago, but only announced this week. The opportunity is now open for the Northern Ireland industry to step in and manage these arrangements for themselves. I hope they grasp the nettle and do so.

I'm hanging up my pen now because I have to go off and chair the Dairy UK Fat Tax Seminar. It's in our boardroom, and if everyone turns up, it'll be tighter than a tin of sardines. We're holding it in-house to save money, but outside the rain is teeming down. I mean every pound's a prisoner, but this could really be stretching the principle.

As I write, I'm watching the lunch being laid out. I see that the menu includes cakes, crisps and cheese sandwiches. Clearly, we're having these things while we can still afford them. Following David Cameron's comments about the fat tax, the government has denied there are any plans. My view is that lots of governments in Europe will be watching what happens in Denmark very carefully. When the time is right, and the lessons are learned, many will pounce. So bringing in the experts to raise awareness amongst our members is appropriate.

I'm sure there will be calls for a tax instead on soft drinks. If so, it may well start in Scotland, where I'm told they consume 20% more soft drinks than the UK average. That must be what makes the Scots so sweet. Whatever, I hope they don't start with Irn Bru. There's no sugar in that. It's entirely made from girders.

Friday 28th October

There is a famous Irish song about how many times we stare danger in the face, ignore it, and pass on.  'On Raglan Road of an autumn day, I saw her first and I knew' sang Luke Kelly, and it must have certainly been playing the day they allowed Greece to join the euro in January 2001. 'And we saw grief as a falling leaf, at the dawning of the day' the song continues prophetically.  Yes, love is blind, and so are EU politicians as their autumn day dawned in Brussels on Wednesday with Greece's economic failure spurring a liquidity top up agreement to support the euro. First up, or last in bed on Thursday morning, depending on how you look at it, was French President Nicolas Sarkozy who said that bringing Greece into the euro was based on false economic figures.

No doubt about it, this week the whole world has been talking about money. From the anti capitalist protestors outside St Paul's who took 11 days to agree to set up a bank account in a co-op bank, to Carlos Tevez. It's been the same at Dairy UK.  I've spent the whole week wrestling with budgets, and pension schemes. This has been no less daunting a task than the one faced by the EU Finance Ministers. It's simply a matter of scale. In my case, however, I have someone else to do the worrying for me. The boss told me this morning that she'd had a nightmare. She'd dreamt that the Dairy UK board had agreed a 1 trillion euro budget for the following year. I asked her why that was a nightmare. She said "you have to share it with Rangers to pay their tax bill".

To get away from the angst of the financial machinations I spent a lot of time this week at the House of Commons talking to MPs. But that was no comfort. The euro deal has, as everyone saw, unnecessarily disrupted the British Parliament as well. As I sat with one MP at Portcullis House, a Tory rebel, he physically cowered away as the Government Chief Whip passed by. I almost hesitate to mention this in case it gives the Dairy UK Finance Committee any ideas on strategy. "Forty lashes for the DG until these damn figures look right, I say". I can feel the weals on my back begin to rise already.

Why is all this so important for the dairy industry? I mean we're not in the euro. Does this mean that every time a major economy in the world goes through a budget process we have to quake over the outcome? Well, in a deregulated market ……. no, but the issue is important for a number of reasons. First, the sterling /euro exchange rate is a significant driver of all UK milk prices, so the ongoing stability of the euro is crucial. Second, we operate in a single European market, so if there's deflation in Southern Europe, that will affect prices for us all. Third, there might be opportunities for us if the euro deal turns out to be insufficient, and the European central banks have to resort to more quantitative easing. That will inflate the euro, increasing prices for us. And fourth, there's China – vital for the future of global dairy demand, and now seemingly vital for coming up with some of the money for the euro deal. So in future, we can anticipate that the road to Shanghai will be packed with dairy companies and bankers.

Finally, I discovered from the BBC website this week (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-15391515) that when I was born I was the 2,540,235,212th human being on the planet. The 5,332,706,472nd person, better known to this column as the Cat in the Hat, leaves DairyCo today for pastures new, although she is keeping one leg in the dairy industry. The double act of Fergus the Green (also now moved on) and The Cat in the Hat have been responsible for moving the highly successful Dairy Roadmap forward over the last couple of years, and the industry owes them a great deal. They met up again this week at a small tearful reception in the Farmers Club to say cheerio. Yes, they can laugh, they can sing, they can do everything … although not at the Farmers Club, of course, unless you're wearing a jacket and tie. So good luck to Karen and all the very best for the future. And of course I'm running out of pseudonyms for this column. But don't worry, the Horse Whisperer will shortly make an appearance. I bet you just can't wait!

Friday 21st October

Parma is the town that the timetable forgot. Turn up on time for anything – meetings, conferences, buses, the opera - and you'll languish for hours waiting for the off. Be one minute late, and you'll find yourself in the standby queue. At the gala dinner of the IDF's SUMMILK 2011, 1,500 delegates were served their main course precisely 17 minutes before being frogmarched out for the buses home. Just as well I didn't put on my dancing shoes.

As the crowds surged back out to the car parks, there was a commotion to my left. It turned out to be the Queen Bee splayed across the front of a demonstration Ferrari, claiming to be empirically testing the gripability of the red paint. Sadly, my camera was still focusing as I saw her start to slither down the bonnet out of sight.

But this area is not about timetables. It's about Verdi, and Galileo, and Caravagio - and of course Parmigiano Reggiano. This is the product that you and I would find easier to call Parmesan if we were chewing a toffee, and it's the doyenne of the Italian dairy cabinet. I went to a small cooperative to see it being made in small vats with copper bottoms. The co-op was supplied by 13 farmers. There was £11 million worth of product in the storeroom. The average milk price was 57 cents (approximately 52p) per litre.

At the tastings, I kept coming across crunchy bits in the cheese. These were globules of sea salt, and the bigger they are, the older and tastier the cheese. Oh, and the more local Lambrusco that has to be consumed to quench the druth! So how is it that the co-operative can pay 57 cents per litre for a product where much of the inherent value and worth is determined by the quality and quantity of the salt?

Well, it's all about the control exerted by 'the consortium'. Legalised by the European Commission's Protected Designated Origin (PDO) system, there are lots and lots of these consortiums in Italy and more than a hundred PDO products with more to come. The consortiums impose a series of conditions which individually are not much more than you would expect from a brand, but collectively they impose a suffocating trade barrier which allows the consortiums huge control of supply and ultimately price.

The reality is, though, that the consortium arrangements are much more powerful than a brand, because in most cases they cover the complete production of a product, whereas most brands compete in the same product market. The further reality is that the finalisation of the Commission's Dairy Package may see the power of these consortiums increase even more through the enhanced operation of Inter Professional Organisations.

I am not condemning these arrangements. Far from it. In fact I'm admiring them. They are the reason the Italians are at the top of European milk price league table. Where we can, we should be making much more use of them in the UK, because it seems to me that they are a very sensible solution to addressing the issue of retailer power.

The morning calm in Parma has just been destroyed by screams of 'oh mio dio' from the DairyCo hotel. It seems that Amanda is having to face up to the cold reality of how she is going to get all the big cheeses and the Parma hams she's bought back to the UK. Well, everyone knows that pigs can fly at DairyCo, but on this occasion bringing home the bacon will have to be done by train.

Friday 14th October

"Autumn leaves under frozen soles", sings Paolo. Not in my part of the world. My soles are still hot enough to be served with chips and peas. Despite this, my Australian house guest this week sat at dinner wearing a heavy pullover and a winter anorak indoors. The boss and I sweltered in shorts and t shirts. Worlds apart, but dealing with the same issues.

The country has been splattered with Australians this week as they try to work out their future. They know that everything that happens in the UK happens down under in 5 years time. When I say everything, I guess it will be unlikely that they will be at the foot of the European milk price league table. But that's only because the Australian currency is underpinned by the strength of their mineral deposits, while ours' is underpinned by the strength of the banks.

That apart, in terms of crystal ball gazing, I told the Australians when they came to Dairy UK that they'd come to the right place, because we have 2020 vision. At the start, they thought 2020 was a cricket competition, but after an hour of Andy Pandy, they were role playing better than the English front row. OK, that was more like roll over playing (ouch!), but without doubt they had become engaged. You could see lights being switched on all over the place. If Rolf Harris had walked into the room and started to sing 'Sun-a-rise', I would not have been surprised. Albeit, without a wobble board.

Visions are fundamental to the future of any industry. Knowing where you are heading is, after all, the prime driver of confidence, as is understanding where the bear traps are, so that they can be neatly sidestepped. Keeping to the stepping stones to success is hugely important. So the Dairy 2020 project that is being undertaken in the UK is a positive exercise. A number of future scenarios are set out and explored. Ultimately, a series of action points will be established, tracing the path towards where we want to be.

At the most recent working group, I was one of those exploring the most positive of the scenarios, by definition the hardest to deliver. But in this scenario, everyone in the supply chain is profitable. Consumers fully understand and accept our production processes. Dairy nutrition is unchallenged by legislators. The UK leads the global export drive, and we are producing high value branded consumer products. All of this by 2020.

Is it possible? Well, last weekend, for the first time ever (even though they are right on my doorstep), I went to see AFC Wimbledon. This is the football team who have performed almost unequalled sporting miracles. They didn't exist in 2002. Now they are playing in the most senior leagues in English football. Their supporters all wear tops bearing the following words 'It only took nine years'. Fantastic, and a reminder to us all that nothing is impossible.

I'm writing this in Parma where the world's dairy industry has gathered in annual session under the auspices of the IDF. It has started outstandingly well. My South African friend Bertus has returned to me a crisp freshly ironed Bank of Scotland £5 note which I lost in his car 4 years ago during a visit to his house in Pretoria. What a gesture of kindness and honesty. I just don't know how I'm going to get round to telling him that actually, I lost a tenner!

Friday 7th October

"In Napoli, where love is king" crooned Deano in a kilt. "When boy meets girl, here's what they say.." he continued. The party carousers rushed to the dance floor during the perky violin instrumental, ready for the big 'altogether now' sing-a-long moment. And then it came…"When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that's…….a fat tax" I heard it quite clearly. I was there!

The Farmers Weekly Awards dinner was the last in a week of glittering farmer extravaganzas starting with the Bath and West Show, then the First Milk event, and finally and spectacularly the Park Lane shindig with 1200 revellers, all bristling with Italian passion and providing the chorus for the melody described above. When I started in this business, farmers got one day off a year, to go to the Highland Show. Now, many need travel secretaries to manage their social calendars.

It was hard to pick out the big highlight from the Grosvenor House last night. The farm worker of the year award going to Lily from Latvia was definitely a Kleenex moment. But my vote goes to the birl that the sparkling FW Editor Jane King got from MC Matt Baker. She confided to me later that she was disappointed because she had prepared herself for a 'Strictly' type audition. Shy boy syndrome I fear. But the audience wanted more.

But back to the possibility of a fat tax. I hesitate to comment personally. I mean I'm from Glasgow where a meat pie in a buttered roll is considered to be a salad. But when I saw that David Cameron had linked the consideration of a fat tax to the obesity issue, Deano again came right into mind. 'Scusami, but you see, back in Old Napoli, that's just cobblers. As we all know, obesity is a matter of calories in versus calories out. Taxing an individual food ingredient won't help, giving guidance on diet and exercise will. Come clean, David. You, along with every other Government in the EU and outwith, are considering a fat tax because it's a soft target for the exchequer. That's why the Danes introduced it, and it will be the main driver in the UK thinking as well.

Doubtless this issue will be a topic of discussion when the world's dairy industry meets at the end of this coming week in Parma. The Annual Sessions of the International Dairy Federation(IDF) has this year attracted more than 40 people from the UK, something of a record, and a good sign that the UK is looking more outward than inward. Part of this event will also be the annual meeting of the Global Dairy Platform, the body formed by international dairy companies to develop common messages on dairy to consumers and legislators. You cannot get a cigarette paper between the objectives of these two fine organizations. The same people fund them. By and large, the same people attend each other's meetings. Many will wonder why by this time they only rub shoulders rather than be joined at the hip. It would only take two or three individuals to shed the history and deliver the vision. You know who you are. Go to it. And where better than Eetaly to start the process. Suddenly, before you know it, bells will ring, ting a ling a ling, and we'll all start to sing 'vita bella'. For us dairy romantics, it will indeed be true amore!

Friday 30th September

"Luxembourg, eh?" said Malthusian Pete. "Yip", I said, "it used to be a radio station that you listened to on your transistor under the bedclothes. Now it's a country." Fortunately we managed to get there because the plane driver knew the way. But we nearly missed the flight as I experimented with more and more free squirts of aftershave in the duty free ...... some of them designed for men.

Our arrival was controversial. The airport bus driver unleashed a torrent of abuse in an unintelligible dialect. This was provoked by me offering him a 50 euro note for a 1.5 euro bus fare. Malthusian Pete wondered what was wrong. "I don't think he likes your aftershave", he said.

Soon we were hard at work at the European Dairy Association's annual scrutiny of everything that the European Union is doing to help or hinder the dairy industry. In this regard Luxembourg City is the right place to come. At ground level, everything is sterilely serene. But from above, the big picture reveals a city built on a huge fault line generating a chasm which divides neatly into two contrasting cultures. Our hotel was precariously positioned right on the rim of the escarpment. One false step and we were over the edge.

So it seemingly is these days with the European Union. Legislation is now created in a process of co-decision between the Parliament and the Council. Increasingly it's co-indecision as two sets of elected politicians rub up against each other in disharmony. The chasms are wider than the one I'm looking out at now.

The different cultures flared up recently with the Food Information Regulation, and later when a disagreement over how to handle cloning resulted in the Novel Foods legislation having to be abandoned. Now the issue of the Dairy Package, arguably the most significant piece of EU legislation for the dairy industry, and in particular for its farmers, is threatening to go the same way.

Although it's true that the discussions in what is called the trialogue (Parliament, Council and Commission) are still at an early stage, they have nevertheless failed to bridge gaps on issues such as contracts and how the new Producer Organisations, which may emerge from this legislation, interface with our existing co-ops. Worryingly, the "sweeties" which are in the mix and might be seen as routes to create smoother paths for the blockages are frankly outrageous, such as the potential ability of trade associations (or inter branch organisation in Eurospeak) to control the supply of products with protected origin designations to consumer markets. Absolutely ridiculous. Can you imagine Dairy UK having the legal authority to control the supply of liquid milk to the British Market in order to manage the price? Exactly!

The serious talk here is that the whole thing may have to be integrated into the CAP 2020 negotiations to resolve. And how long will that take? Well by then, West Ham will surely have won the Champion's League.

I had intended to cover other EU chasms in these comments. In particular the chaos being caused as member states interpret EU labelling and nutrition legislation in different ways. However my verbosity means that that will have to be another time. In the meantime I'll leave you to contemplate how we would fancy a fat tax in the UK?

I'm off out of here now, leaving Malthusian Pete to schmooze and cruise at the glittering gala dinner on his own. My lethal combination of Eau Savage and the great smell of Brut would for sure have been a winner, but what can you do?. In this town, it wouldn't have taken much to push them over the edge!

Friday 23rd September

Its amazing the lengths that British men will go to to avoid watching Downton Abbey! I went to Madrid. It seemed to me that the Estadio Vicente Calderon offered a reasonable alternative. The boys had been there a couple of days earlier, playing in the Euromickey. At the very least I could go and apologise! In these exceptional circumstances The Boss could go shopping.

I knew something was wrong when I got to the metro. There were no fans on the train. I re-checked Google. The game was the following day. No problem. I re-directed to the comfort of the Plaza de Sta Ana, ordered a couple of squaffs, and ploughed on with my book – Alistair Darling's autobiography "Back from the Brink".

It's the scariest book I've ever read. Darling is from the Isle of Lewis (as is The Boss). They all keep their money under the mattress up there, and never go near the banks! Because of their remoteness they receive all sorts of social subsidies and discounts, and this, together with the fact that they grow all their own food, means that, the odd Stornoway black pudding apart, they hardly spend anything either. So in my view, the ex Chancellor's total lack of confidence in the banking system definitely reflects his roots. The scary part is that this week as we struggle to understand the solutions to the barren global growth outlook, the banks will be at the heart of it.

Darling encapsulates the debate on the solution to all economic issues-growth, debt, liquidity etc, anything, as cut, or tax and spend. It's the debate, he says, we have in all our households every day. As I read, it occurred to me that it's the debate we had had in the Dairy UK Board the day before with the Director and Chairman of DairyCo. Their strategy is minimize cost and focus on market failure. The discussion was on whether it would be better to tax and spend in an area where there was partial market failure (generic support activity, as it happens) in order to propel growth…for everybody.

I suppose it all comes down to confidence in the outcomes of the chosen strategy. The spend advocates always have to prove more of the case than those who support cuts. That's just life. So it will be with the economy, as it will be in the dairy industry with the funding for ongoing generic support. So for those hoping to spend, and the case can be made, my advice is to get it out on the table fast. You never know what will happen.

Back in the Plaza de Sta Ana, I looked up from my book to see The Boss approaching laden with posh designer bags. "Is something bothering you?" she said. "Yes!…… Darling!" I said . "Oh don't worry about me", she said. " I've been shopping. I just love spending money. And you know it's worth it!"

Friday 16th September

Superstars, but they didn't get far. Yes, Scotland gave the mighty Georgia the pip this week and sent them searching for the midnight train. Next up for the men from Tbilisi is England, in this most pleasurable of sports, but one in which the rules are incomprehensible and the task of referees is nigh on impossible. It all goes to emphasise my long held conviction that you can't play rugby for money. If that was the case then England wouldn't feel the need to play seven out of 15 players in their starting line-up who were neither carved out of English rock, or speak with English accents. The Scotland v England showdown is scheduled for 1st October in Auckland. I haven't yet ruled out my personal attendance there, but only if England are still meaningfully in the competition. Have they, I wonder, learned anything this week from the dwarfs? My judgement is that it's better to give The Boss advance warning of my provisional travel plans from the relative distance and safety of this column, rather than face to face in the bedroom. I wouldn't want to disrupt the harmony!

The harmony in the kitchen is an altogether different thing. "Smell it first", I plead with The Boss as I watch her channel hoards and hoards of food items from the fridge to the rubbish bin. These are items which only arrived in the fridge the day before, or so it seems. "Smell it first", I scream, worried about the effect her policy is going to have on the Bank of England. But she refuses to use the finely calibrated organoleptic instrument which is built into everyone's nose, which is the definitive test of food safety, isn't it? She works instead on the manufacturer's advice on the product label. "Give over", she ripostes, "or else I'll check the sell-by date on the back of your neck!"

Will the guidance produced by Defra and the FSA this week help to de-confuse consumers bedevilled by waste complexes? The answer is yes, and even more precisely as soon as Dairy UK, working with Defra and WRAP, finalises its specific guide for dairy products. I believe we will see the end of confusing terms such as "sell by" or "display until". We shall still have an element of doubt between "best before" and "use by", but on the simple rationale that "best before" still doesn't give precise use by guidance, I think we'll see "use by" re-inforced as the industry standard. This might be a bit challenging for Defra, because the more common use of "best before" fits better with the objective of reducing food waste. Either way, the guidance is a step forward. And the nose test? Not so reliable in the winter when the heavy colds come on, I admit. So we'll leave that as the preserve of the food scientists.

And will the Defra guidance change the behaviour of The Boss? You must understand that this is a woman who once stoked the chiminea (a trendy garden fire hazard which people who live in Surrey have) with wood from the garage which still had the B and Q bar code on it. I'll leave you to judge!

 Friday 9th September

The square shaped, sliced 'Lorne' sausage is the product that most Scottish missionaries working in exile in England say they miss about home. I shared a breakfast table this week with a fellow countryman in whose culinary judgement I place religious trust. That's because his name Kirk, is the Scottish word for "church". A strong supporter of the Lorne, Kirk almost floored me with his rationale that the problem with the English sausage is that it's full of fat! But you know, on reflection, I think he's right. Because when you cook the Lorne sausage the residue left in the pan has a cubic capacity more than twice its original size. And the fact that the cooked product becomes useable only as a tombstone or as paving slabs is nutritionally irrelevant. Moreover, whereas the refined English link is smooth and glassy, the external texture of the Lorne is, as they say, as rough as a badger's @*#*.

Which takes me neatly on to the subject of badgers in general. In many ways the industry is in more or less the same place on TB and Defra's proposed badger cull as we were on Nocton and large scale farms – an emotional public issue; majority but not universal support within the agricultural community; a desperate need to persuade the public; well organised and motivated opponents; and a supportive but hesitant government – let's be honest, what percentage of voters is going to benefit from this? We didn't succeed on Nocton. Can we get it right this time?

Well, a checklist of good advice emerged this week, and we would be well advised to heed it. First, if you want to get the public to accept badger culling, get badger lovers to explain why it's necessary. Second, you must explain to the public why a cull is in the badgers' long term interests, not the farmer's. Third, use a mix of science and emotion. Science on its own won't work. Fourth, social media is the best way of winning the hearts and minds of the public. And fifth, commit early to adequate resource.

It's the resource issue that may be the problem. With Nocton, although everyone was affected, the bill was picked up by only one man. When he reached the 'whites of the eyes' stage, he decided it wasn't worth it. This time, the NFU have rightly put themselves at the front of the campaign. If no-one else comes in, they too will reach the 'whites of the eyes stage' and they too will have to judge if it's worth it. I applaud their move to bring back Anthony Gibson to reinforce the comms effort. That's a good decision, but will it be enough? And will the lessons from the past guide the direction of the future. Time will tell. There's a tough battle ahead.

On Wednesday, Kirk and I met up again at the Scottish Parliament. That's the place where everyone tries, but no-one can catch the Salmond. We spotted a really nice Parker pen on the floor which someone had clearly dropped. "Aha", said Kirk, "That's the wife's birthday present sorted out, then". I suggested that with a name like his he should adopt a more ecclesiastical approach. "Names should guide behaviour", I said. "In your case too?" was the reply. We turned to listen to the speaker. He was from one of Scotland's foremost cake and confectionary makers. His name? A. Baker!

Friday 2nd September

In a furious day of transfer activity on Wednesday, Dairy UK agreed fees and personal terms with a number of new recruits including Ian Potter, Mansel Raymond, Derek Mead and Tim Bennett. Unfortunately they all failed their medicals, so the Dairy UK squad for 2011/12 will go forward proudly unchanged. Being a London centric organisation we've got Gooners amongst us, foremost of whom is Fiona. She is ecstatic about the arrival of Michel Arteta. Some years ago I watched Arteta play for Rangers in a losing Scottish Cup final at Hampden. For almost the whole first half he tried to dribble his way round a black plastic bin sack which had blown on to the pitch. I'm pretty confident that if Arsene Wenger had been there, he'd have signed the plastic bin bag. Yes, Wednesday was a day of panic, and sheer utter irrationality. And if because of the ongoing hot summer nights you're have trouble sleeping, just spare a thought for poor Harry, the man who said no to £40,000,000. Phew!

For me, winter in the UK starts the day after the end of your summer holiday. But in this office the hot sun is still blasting through the windows inducing lethargy and stupor. I am perplexed by reports of widespread driechness and that it has been the coldest summer in thousands of years, because everywhere I've been I've been frazzled. OK, I accept that if you spend a couple of weeks on the Amalfi coast, which is where I was, you don't exactly expect to check the ski reports, but even there, the locals were gasping for breath. Now back in London, I search the weather forecast each day praying for cool. But my confidence in weather forecasts waned some time ago after the great Ian McAllister, complaining about the lack of trained meteorologists on commercial TV stations, told me that once their weather forecasters had said good morning, they've already told you more than they know!

I did take advantage of the sun to travel down to the south coast to meet a Member of Parliament on a farm in his constituency in Sussex. This was a farm with a diverse range of businesses including a tearoom and a stall selling locally grown herbs. We had a choice of seats next to a section prominently marked 'Sage'. Obviously I deferred to the Honourable Member. He was after all a Government Minister. He too had just returned from holiday abroad, and in discussion he complained, as so many used to do, about the lack of British products on foreign supermarket shelves. "We make the finest cheeses in the world" he said. "Why are they not visible overseas?"

I started to reply, but mentally I drifted straight back to the Amalfi coast, where I'd just spent 10 days eating cheese with absolutely everything. Mozzarella with tomatoes to start, in and over the pasta for main, and ricotta in pastry for dessert. I asked the locals, do they eat at home the same food as in Italian restaurants? Yes, they said. Yes, getting British cheese into this mix is very important, but I kept wondering how do we get British consumers to eat cheese like the Italians? In our drive to get more milk into added value products in the UK, I see cheese very much at the heart of it - almost the trailblazer in fact. But it has to be with a combination of innovation, branding and generic activity. There is lots of activity in the first two, but do we pay enough attention to the third? And I mean encouraging continental eating habits in British consumers. Is it even important?

Well, this is one of many subjects which will be covered at the Dairy UK conference in Birmingham on Monday when Professor Mike Johnston, CEO of the Dairy Council for Northern Ireland will give us his views. I look forward to seeing you all there. And of course at the glittering Dairy UK pre Dairy Event awards dinner on Monday night. Our pre-dinner speaker on Monday has enticed me with an advance example of some of his material…" I was asked for a new computer password" he tells me. "It had to be 8 characters. So I used Snowwhite and the seven dwarfs!". Yes, a diamond and no mistake, although "away'ngetaff" is my comment. We can anticipate a truly spectacular evening.

Friday 26th August

Yes, it's me, the Pieman, briefly guest blogging whilst the DG continues to sun himself in foreign parts.

"The Pieman" is not exactly a very flattering pseudonym, is it? To be honest, I have a problem with names. Not only am I terrible at remembering them, but my own has been something of a burden to me throughout my teens and adult life. Clint Eastwood, Graham Hill or Jonny Wilkinson I could have lived with, but sharing a name with an ex-Radio One DJ has been something of a trial. A few years ago I did a series of radio interviews about cheese. Having just completed a relatively straight forward piece for Radio 5 Live, I was transferred across to the Drive Time programme for Radio 2, which was then presented by Chris Evans. I was counted in and the first thing I heard was the "Our Tune" music, which continued to play in the background throughout the interview. That was certainly enough to throw a chap off his stroke in front of millions of people, I can tell you!

As many will know, I have a passion for cheese, which is why I have been so interested in the media furore surrounding the latest offerings from Blur bassist turned cheese maker, Alex James. Alex had previously been feted in the press for his Blue Monday and Little Wallop cheeses and his Britpop credentials had moved coverage from the food and lifestyle pages into mainstream news. His latest offerings include cheeses flavoured with tomato ketchup, tikka massala, salad cream or sweet chilli, and as a result James has now been accused of selling out his artisanal credentials.

In this country we produce 700 named cheeses. Most people, however, tend to stick to a handful of favourites. I am always given the job of providing cheese for dinner parties. Recently a couple of friends insisted that they didn't like blue cheese. After much persistence I persuaded them both to try a salty blue cheese with a small glass of very sweet pudding wine. One of them loved the combination and is now a convert to blue cheese, the other didn't, so you can't win them all.

British cheese makers produce some of the most sublime cheeses to be found anywhere in the world and these are undoubtedly our flagships, but the cheese market is so much more than these premium products. Mr James' new contributions are unlikely to threaten any of our finest offerings but maybe, just maybe, they will encourage some people to expand their horizons and try something new, thereby generating incremental sales and bringing greater value into our industry. Like cheese with tomato ketchup, it's got to be worth a try!

Friday 19th August

Very few people in the dairy industry have seen Dairy UK's Director General on his knees - I'm one of the few that has. I'm the Queen Bee and the unusual incident occurred in my office earlier this week. It all began when my phone stopped working. Fortunately Jim was on hand (or should I say, on his knees) to sort it out and explain to me where I'd gone wrong. After leaping to his feet he said "I haven't had this much trouble with a blonde since the last time I tried to explain the offside rule."  "That's okay Jim," I said cheerfully, "I may not be able to fix a phone but I know all about the offside rule, I'm a big ice hockey fan." Three hours (and a couple of headache pills later) I understood the error of my ways and had even learned new words like 'football' and 'Alex Ferguson'. Fortunately, at that point, Jim's boss swept in and whisked him off on holiday. She explained that he'd need a lie down to recover from the shock of discovering he was sharing an office with someone who'd never heard of Jock Stein or Matt Busby. Happy holidays Jim!

A few things have been buzzing about in my brain this week and I want to share a couple of them with you. One was a piece I read in an overseas newspaper. The piece was titled "rabbit food diets still unproven" and the author, Andy Ho, may just have become one of my heroes. His article told the tale of a vegan sending him a book called the China Study and demanding that he immediately read it. It's a book we know well here. It's has been waved at us many times by anti-dairy groups as their ultimate proof as to why they think we should all ditch dairy. The book is written in a way that could suck the untrained in science into believing the twisted information within. Fortunately, my hero of the moment saw right though it and using data from China's own ministry of health poked great big holes in the book's underlying suggestion that the Chinese are healthier than us Westerners because they have a plant based, whole foods diet with little meat and dairy. He also very eloquently pointed out to his readers that the author of the book, Dr Colin Campbell tells a different story in his peer reviewed scientific papers than he does in his bestselling book. Strike one for common sense!

The second was a great piece about milk and sport. A new study from McMaster University has shown that milk rehydrates children better than water. The study is really good news for the industry particularly, in the run up to the Olympics. What isn't such good news is that while our counterparts in the States, Canada and Australia can talk about the study to consumers, in Europe we're prevented from doing so because there is no approved European health claim for milk and rehydration. Whilst some of the British public might read a few lines on the study in their newspaper, as an industry we can't openly talk about the results in our consumer communications. For now, we are confined to taking the message to health and fitness professionals.

And finally, before I give Jim back his blog, I wanted to leave you with some quotes from the testimony of an eleven year old elementary school student to the District of Columbia Committee on Youth Issues as he pleaded with the Committee who had banned chocolate milk sales in this school (in the aftermath of Jamie Oliver's media stunts in the USA) to have his chocolate milk back. "Since the new law was passed, 58% of kids who used to drink chocolate milk at school are no longer drinking any dairy product at school. They are missing out on all of the calcium they used to get. I interviewed a doctor and asked her, Is it better to have chocolate milk or no milk at all? She said, It's better to have chocolate milk."

 I wonder what the DG is drinking on holiday. I hope it contains calcium!

This week I ventured into the surreal world of advertising and media. It was only a brief visit but spectacularly successful on my part. I listened to sales people from Sky television promote their channel as a vehicle for our future milk advertising. I learned so much from what they said that I was able to reduce my own personal monthly payment to Sky by £28, plus I now get an additional Sky product free. I also learned which of the Sky channels are the ones where they show big money bonanza programmes to lure new customers, such as Sky 1 and Sky Atlantic. I'd never previously had the pleasure of these, so to speak. The Sky people seemed surprised at this, given that I was the only person in the room who also received Sky broadband. But how do you find them?  My remote control only goes from Sky Sports 1 to Sky Sports 4 Extra and then back again. Maybe I should broaden my horizons. There may be another world out there!

More pleasure came later in the week with the arrival in the war torn capital of Briggers and Cotto from the RABDF. They'd come up from the country to join forces with Dairy UK to deliver to Defra our expectations from the new Animal Health and Welfare Board (AHWB). In a clear 'we shall not be moved' message to the looters, their haute couture very definitely reflected the season.  Indeed it looked like they'd slipped a couple of Havanna jackets over their speedos, and donned some matching loafers, obviously not recently acquired, to exude a 'they don't like it up 'em 'spirit with immaculate subtlety.

In complete contrast, the message to Defra was anything but subtle. The success of the new body will be judged almost totally on its effectiveness on TB. Defra, and the newly appointed AHWB chairman, Michael Seals, may be approaching this new venture thinking that it's all about finding out where the money which the Government spends in this area actually goes, and getting something done about it. And indeed, the dividing line on responsibilities between Defra and the new Board on animal welfare is still somewhat blurred. However TB is the obvious connect. Solve TB and you go a long way to sorting out the money. So there is a mutual interest. But if the Government's proposals on TB are delivered Mr Seals may be able to walk on water. If they don't, I have a strong suspicion of where the blame will lie.

All of this and more will be on the agenda for the upcoming dairy event of the year where social interplay, wit, charm and sophistication will blend seamlessly with intellectual debate, enlightenment, vision and understanding. All of this, at the Dairy UK Conference and Dinner on 5th September at the Birmingham Metropole Hotel. Please do not miss this splendid occasion. I'm keeping a ticket just for you, because although I am bound by the stifling restrictions of discretion, I know that the winner of this year's prestigious Dairy UK Annual Award is almost certainly going to be you, and you must make sure that you, all your friends and family, and your PR advisor are all there to see it.

The aforementioned Cotto will chair the Conference, with his customary Bohemian flamboyance. We shall debate all the controversial issues of the day and no expense has been spared to bring in global experts to inform you on markets, contracts, scientific research, genomics and breeding, promotion, media and image, and disease management, to name just a few. In the evening more education and learning will flow from our friends at DairyCo and the Milk Marketing Forum, before entertainment and accolade take over. It's truly a mouthwatering prospect and yours in exchange for a token contribution which does no more than allow us to wash our face. Honestly. I'll see you there.

Friday 5th August

The holiday season is on us. Defra, the whole of Brussels, and the European Parliament are all on the beach. I'm told they now make swimsuits with pockets for Blackberries, so be careful guys before you go in at the deep end. In my view, another good reason for sticking with the Speedos you know.

But at Dairy UK, we never close, albeit this week with a skeleton staff. Now the Pieman is not normally a man who is comfortable with the description of skeletal, but I have to applaud his stoicism as I delivered to him today, on the last day before he goes on leave, the five words in the English language that fill him with fear and trepidation … "Simon, I have an idea".

Holidays definitely change people. A colleague of mine, and a fellow Rangers supporter, has returned to work wearing a pink shirt. Whoever heard of a Rangers fan wearing a pink shirt? He said it's not pink, its raspberry. No, I said, that's what you'll get when your wife sees it! He hasn't been home yet since returning from the tragedy at Malmo. He shouldn't have been there in the first place, because all Rangers fans were banned following inappropriate behaviour previously. So only 4000 of them made it to the game … all identically dressed in Abba gear and clutching IKEA catalogues. This was to make them inconspicuous ……..! It wasn't organised or anything, it's just how all Rangers fans think. Great minds etc etc.

But with another week, so we have another DairyCo report, this time on Farmer Intentions. It follows their reports on margins and price transmission. Now I've been … shall we say .. taken to task .. by DairyCo for what they feel has been a selective analysis of their previous work. This has led to a healthy and, frankly, enlightening exchange of dialogue and correspondence, which we've both enjoyed. And I accept, fully, that they are constantly trying to seek balance. So am I. Worryingly, however, when you look at these reports collectively, they are somewhat at odds with the DairyCo company song viz 'Always look on the bright side of life'.

Refreshingly, the conclusions of the excellent Farmer Intentions Survey Report are a huge relief to me. Ok, there's an edging down of confidence, and there's evidence of a growing divide amongst the haves and have nots, but against a background of soaring farm costs, it could have been so much worse. As I say regularly, it is everyone's responsibility to see the confidence index amongst dairy farmers spiral upwards, because in my view confidence is as important as reality. The former precedes the latter, and if you are in any doubt, watch tonight's evening news on the causes of the latest financial crisis. It's all about confidence. And if you don't believe me, just ask my friend after he's returned home tonight in his pink …eh, sorry, raspberry coloured shirt.

And, finally, last Friday was a busy media day for the Dairy UK family. I was interviewed for BBC News in the South West on the Select Committee report. Mike Johnston was interviewed live on BBC NI on the Milk Cup. And again, live on BBC NI, at half time, as the experts were being interviewed in the studio, behind them on the pitch you could see one of these Zorb things being pushed along by a posse of conscripted volunteers. And who was inside? None other than the Queen Bee, rolling along a.o.t. with 4000 spectators cheering her on. Yes 'Milk It' is the campaign strapline, and milking it is what she was doing, but is the Dairy Council spinning out of control? Well, as the picture elsewhere in this newsletter proves, it's always nice to see things from a different angle. Nuff said!

Friday 29th July

You will all be aware of the special skills of the Venezuelan brown bat. The Venezuelan brown bat can detect and avoid individual raindrops in mid-flight, arriving safely back at its cave, completely dry.  These skills go some way to explaining why the Venezuelan bat is indeed brown. There is a little bit of the Venezuelan brown bat in all of us I think. At Dairy UK, would that it was only raindrops we had to avoid.

This week, we've been wrestling with 'raindrops' from the House of Commons Select Committee with their Dairy Package report, and to a lesser extent, DairyCo with their Asymmetric Price Transmission report. Well, we've been sloshing about for sure, but we're far from under water. And of course you have to deal with these things at two levels.

Yes, reports affecting the future of the dairy industry have been falling out of the sky like confetti this week. The poor Pieman has been wabbit managing the complicated process of aligning media deadlines with report publication dates. Sweat has been leaping from his brow, for sure. I've been avoiding the fall out, brown bat style. He can certainly now spell the word 'embargo'....which is more than the officials at one parliamentary committee can do. When we phoned up this week for more details on one of their Select Committee reports the conversation ran as follows – "how did you find out about that?" "Eh, it's on your website". "Oh my god. That's a mistake. We've broken our own embargo!"

For me, this week's frenzy has been interspersed with the pleasures of the Nantwich Cheese Show. It inevitably started with a radio interview which took place in the middle of the blue cheese section. The Farming Today correspondent, bless her, started her intro as follows..."I'm now standing beside the smelly stuff....and I'm talking to Jim Begg, Director General of Dairy UK". Right, I thought. She clearly didn't think much of my Lynx!

The show was, as ever, impressive, but I always feel that it is worthy of a grander stage. In recent years it has gone international, but I don't think that strengthens it. It has the potential to be the supreme platform for British dairy products, but the stage is shared with imports. It is an "event" without the marketing budget to make it a public extravaganza and a triumph for the demonstration of British and regional provenance. I hope one day it realises its full potential. It is also not without its amusing moments, and the comments of the local mayor in his welcome address are worthy of a wider audience. He had refused to eat cheese at school because he didn't like the holes in it. A wise teacher had told him to eat around the holes and leave them at the side of the plate. He duly did, and he's never looked back.

Finally on these reports, and their advice on the dairy industry. All of them in my view make the same basic mistake. They all advocate political solutions to what are essentially commercial issues. If we want to increase our wealth and the distribution of money down the supply chain, it won't be with regulations. It will be by understanding the operation of markets, by being competitive on farms and in factories and by selling into profitable added value markets. Maybe next week, I'll issue a report!

Friday 22nd July

Wales is moving on impressively, but Abergavenny has missed out. I found myself in a bar there on Monday night, exactly a year to the day since I was last there. It was one of these friendly pubs where everyone is part of every conversation. The barman greeted me with exactly the same joke as he had the last time. "Before you ask, we have no Brains." Everyone guffawed. So I gave him exactly the same reply as I had before. "That's OK. I brought my own. And I'll only need a half pint pot". Everyone guffawed again. We were all getting on like old friends, which of course we were, but somehow I managed to change the atmosphere completely. I only asked a simple question: "Does anyone mind if I put the Scissor Sisters on the juke box?" Suddenly everyone looked ... er ... sheepish!

There's nowhere to sit in Wales. One of my meetings at the cow show necessarily took place at a table right bang in the middle of a cocktail reception. Tim and Duncan from DairyCo saw nothing odd in this. They said that when they listen to me, it helps to have a drink at arm's reach. Inevitably, we were soon engulfed by the glitterati of the Welsh dairy industry. Powerful representatives of the Welsh farming industry like Eifon Hughes, Terrig Morgan, and Stephen James phalanxed round me in a kind of "well what about the milk price then, boyo" manner. I was nervous. After all, a man has to be aware of where his next custard pie is going to come from.

But of course I had nothing to fear, because in my view, Wales is a land of magnificent contrasts. When it's raining, Wales is the most dismal place on earth. When the sun shines, it's truly inspirational and awe inspiring. And the dichotomies are all around you at the cow show. When you arrive you have to get past rows of tacky retail stalls like you were in a Marrakesh bazaar. Everyone looks gloomy. But when you reach the main ring the vista is stunningly dramatic, oozing with the passion and pride of Welsh agriculture. And these men towering above me at the cocktail reception, savage and ferocious in debate, argument and leadership in defence of their interests, become gentlemen, poets, and ambassadors in the company of guests and strangers....although to be perfectly frank, Terrig does need a haircut.

I was there when the Defra announcement on badgers came through. There were wistful looks all round, because the Welsh Minister courageously fought that battle, and lost. Now it's up to the English Minister to take up the baton. And along with everyone who earns their living from the countryside, I hope that she has the resolve and determination to see this one through to the bitter end. All of us saw the TV interviews last week with the farmers affected by TB, and it's really sickening. But make no mistake, this is going to be a tough one. And as the public consultation on the TB measures progresses, the education of consumers on the importance of this is going to have to be up front and convincing. Of course the argument must be evidence based and driven by science, but it's on emotions that the battle will be won or lost. We would be less than wise to ignore this.

As I left the showground, I noticed a newspaper headline about 'fixing' which I understand is the practice of artificially dressing up cattle for show. I turned to Terrig and smiled. "Is that why all the sheep here are wearing lipstick, Terrig?" I asked. "Oh yes, Boyo, for sure" he smirked. "Brightens 'em up, you see. Makes them perform better. Have you never seen the Scissor Sisters?"

Friday 15th July

I love the game of golf. However, I have an equal and opposite loathing of golf clubs. And by that I mean the institutions and not the sticks.

In my view they are all totally unacceptable bastions of male privilege and small minded bureaucracy. And I mean all of them, despite the universal protestations of all golf club members who claim that 'it's not like that at our place'. In my experience, it absolutely is.

I am occasionally invited by friends to play at my local golf club. On the first tee there is a sign with a list of rules that would not embarrass a Dickensian workhouse. Recently I found myself reading through these rules conscious that I was violating almost every one of them. I finally lost it when I came to the rule which required that my shorts (designed and pressed) could only be worn with full length socks up to my knees. Believing that only my playing partner was in earshot, I let out a stream of 'See you Jimmy' style vitriol. In fact, the club captain was standing behind me, forcing me to convert instantly to grovelling apology mode. "That's all right", he said. "There are no restrictions here. We encourage free speech."

This weekend I'll be at Sandwich for the British Open. I had bought the tickets before realising that The Royal St George's Club doesn't accept lady members. Shocking, but what's a man to do. I think I'll wear my kilt as a protest of extreme subtlety.  Look out for me. I should be easy to spot on the TV.

Golf is an excellent form of exercise. But as some unkind commentators regularly observe, exercise is a rapidly diminishing feature of my portfolio of interests. I fear I am not alone amongst the members of the Dairy UK staff.  And yet daily, each of us walks by a collection of Boris bikes to gain access to the office. I'm willing to bet that none of them have ever seen the dark side of a Dairy UK posterior. But the tide of change is upon us. Following a visit by the Department of Health's Director of Health and Welfare last week, and a meeting on Monday with Andrew Lansley, the Health Secretary, I am committed to integrating Dairy UK into the Department of Health's Responsibility Deal. This is a Government project which assists industries (ie. Dairy UK) and employers to take responsibility for the health of the nation in general, and their workforces in particular. One strand of it simply requires organisations to commit to pledges that will deliver healthy workplace practices. We've discussed this in the office and some interesting suggestions have come forward. These include strapping pedometers to our legs and setting targets for more walking (rejected by the Pieman because "the pedometers are too heavy") and taking the chairs out of the meeting room so everyone has to stand (still under active consideration).

But the other strand of the Responsibility Deal is more serious. It's concerned with diet and consumption, and includes making pledges to reformulate food. So far, no dairy companies have signed up to this, but after a very positive Board meeting, we are on the brink of setting up arrangements with the Department of Health which will allow a constructive input from the dairy companies to the formulation of collective industry pledges from which individual company pledges can then flow.

As we embark on this process, which we hope will replicate arrangements we previously had with the Food Standards Agency, an important principle must be recognised. Reformulation comes hand in hand with re regulation. The latter, if properly undertaken facilitates the former. If companies reformulate to produce 'healthier' products they need to be able to make claims to reflect this. If they can't, they won't. Worth thinking about this.

The office is quiet now, with only the Pieman left waiting for this article. But hold on, is that a pedometer he seems to be strapping to his ankle? By jove, I think it is. Oh well, it's a Boris bike to Waterloo for me. Come on Rory.

Friday 8th July 2011

It's amazing how different people interpret the same information differently. An excellent example of jumping to wrong conclusions came across my desk this week. A couple were sharing a bottle of wine on the patio in the sun. She said "You know I really love you. I just can't imagine life without you." Glancing up from his Blackberry, he said "Is that you talking, or the wine talking?" She replied "It's me talking,....to the wine".

With this thought uppermost, I listened carefully to the messages emanating from the Commission's Advisory Group on milk in Brussels. I didn't want to make a mistake.  Over 100 experts setting out their views on how the markets will move in future. Short term, long term, in between term, everything. 7 hours of information flow. With good intent, the Commission had called the meeting to make sure that everyone had a clear idea of what was coming down the line. The object was to get everyone to react 'responsibly' and avoid the boom/slump regime we've had since 2007. Was this a new form of cheap market management? Only if you're naive enough to think it will work.

What I took from it was markets working more or less normally with supply, demand and price following an understandable pattern. A period of non extreme volatile stability can be anticipated, subject to what happens with China, the weather, and currencies - mostly the latter two. Nowadays a range of new, fairly radical sounding organisations (RSOs) attend these meetings. They heard the same things as me. But they interpreted the market as being on the brink of another crisis. They repeatedly asked the Commission for 'guarantees' to cover impending disaster. They wanted 'tools', 'support' and 'protection'. So in the room we had the RSOs searching for political solutions, and the Commission searching for commercial solutions. I wondered who'd win that battle. The answer came meaningfully , 24 hours later, with the now annual visit  to the UK of the messiah from New Zealand, Sir Henry van der Heyden. Since his last visit Fonterra, the company which he chairs, had become the world's biggest dairy company. "How'd you do it, Henry?" I asked him. "Easy," he said. "The more that EU industry looks for political solutions rather than commercial solutions, the stronger my company gets.  But don't give away the secret", he said. So I won't. Shh!

The Queen Bee is now giving dietary advice to Dairy UK staff. Flushed with her own success in that department, visible to all, she's helping the rest of us become shadows of our former selves. My discussions with her inevitably ended up in a negotiation. We compromised at me giving up fried foods. That's quite a concession because it more or less restricts the pleasures I get from life to pies, pints and curries. However, at the Dairy Supply Chain Forum meeting this week, the Queen Bee forcibly demonstrated that her weight loss programme had not affected the tail in which she keeps her sting. She visibly shook Farm Minister Jim Paice by revealing that soon French manufacturers of Camembert may be able to say "contains Calcium" on their packs, while British cheddar manufacturers may not. "Sacre Bleu", screamed the expression on the Minister's face. But it's true. People think we're joking when we warn about the risks of underfunding nutritional science in this country. But we're not. Just wait and see.

Finally, my daughter 'Cool As' and I went back to Wembley to watch Take That, 16 years after we last went to see them at Earl's Court when she was 8. Looking around, I observed that exactly the same people whom I'd seen at Earl's Court were there again at Wembley. We've all agreed to meet up to watch them again at the O3, in 16 years' time.  Wembley is a no smoking venue, so it was amusing to watch a girl being asked to put out her cigarette, while fireballs were exploding all around on the stage. And what were the band singing while all this was going on? You've guessed it. Light My Fire. Everything happens in threes!

Friday 1st July 2011

I mean, come on. Let's face it. No-one should really get worked up about tennis. It's really only an excuse for a beer in the summer while you're waiting for the football season to start. And, I suppose, it helps to understand which parts of the world the 'ovas the 'itchs and the 'ovskys hail from. But Rufus the Wimbledon hawk, that's another story. Engaged to keep out predators from the Centre Court, he (or for all I know, it may be she) performs his task with ruthless efficiency. Perhaps there's a role for Rufus in charge of Dairy UK door policy. I'll think about the idea a bit more before giving it the bird.

Perhaps the most famous thing about the Riverbank Plaza Hotel on the Albert Embankment is that it's the London residence of David Hay the boxer. He has had a gym built at the back. The close proximity of the World Heavyweight champion had clearly had an impact on Food and Farming Minister Jim Paice, who was in fighting form at the Dairy UK Annual Dinner in London last night. His range of hooks, jabs, and uppercuts to the body landed repeatedly on his target – the British dairy industry.

It was a heavyweight performance. He pulled no punches. But it was also a fair one. And the audience cannot have failed to appreciate where he was coming from. He highlighted the positive potential of the industry to develop, within its own resources, to greater things. He clearly set out the challenges which would deliver this. He also stressed that effective collaboration would avoid the need for regulation. So from our point of view that's a challenge worth fulfilling.

I want to reassure Jim on a couple of points. No-one in this industry would be unconcerned, as he inferred, if it shrunk. That was the accusation which could have been justifiably levelled against governments in the past. Everyone is working feverishly for growth. Similarly, there is no prospect of markets becoming less competitive in the future, or that companies or customers will curb their drive for market share. That is a given. Nor is any kind of national plan likely to be successful. I'm pretty clear that solutions to take us forward will come from industry, and be market driven through a range of individual decisions by the supply chains in the business. However, he's right to ask the questions. That's his role.

Afterwards, I was detained in the bar moralizing and philosophising much later than intended. I know who was to blame, but I would never name names. I have too much respect for the ladies from DairyCo to do that. This morning I edged wearily towards the DES Board meeting with some trepidation. But I need not have been concerned. Irn Bru is the universally implemented morning after cure for Scottish hangovers. A thoughtful fellow countryman on the board had brought enough for both of us. It worked a treat. After all, it's made from girders.

Friday 24th June 2011

Do you ever find yourself shouting at the car radio during phone-ins. Yes, me too. I became particularly 'vexed' this week while travelling to the cow show at Ingliston. The issue was the proposals from the British Olympic Association that Scotsmen, Welshmen and Northern Irishmen should play football for England in the Olympic Games. After listening to me for a while the boss said, "Don't you feel that sometimes, on some subjects you can be small minded, narrow, insular and stuck in a time warp?" I thought for a moment and replied, "I refute any suggestions that I'm narrow". It'll never happen. But what do I care? I'm ticketless.

Scotland is definitely changing. In the hotel at Edinburgh airport, I was served a green salad with my haggis. I assumed it was a mistake, and sent it back. But it wasn't. I was there for the Dairy Council Board meeting. The room had its own jelly bean machine for the free use of delegates. When I turned the handle, unbelievably, all the beans which came out were green. That was the first time I'd ever seen green beans in Scotland. Amazing. Some things never change, of course.

Later, at the cow show, I bought a Scotch Pie. It had been cooking all day, and the crust was absolutely concrete hard. To compensate, the girl gave me two concrete pies for the price of one. Bless her!

The Lions Rampantant above Ingliston flew proudly and stiffly, more proudly than I've observed in the past. I reflected inwardly that if anyone has shares in Scotland, this is not the time to sell them. If there was ever a hint of an inferiority complex, it's been replaced with a confidence and optimism and a clear vision of the future. Why? Well let's not spend too much time working it out, let's just get on with turning it in to profit.

Agriculture symbolises the optimism of the country and is being rewarded with an immensely supportive Farm Minister Richard Lochhead who appeared at Ingleston to ride the wave. Being nationalist, he wants to do everything agricultural for Scotland, divorced from the rest of the UK. Many within the industry are keen to follow suit. But I would urge caution, because it's not always the most efficient way. The Dairy Package, for example, implemented differently across the UK would place national fervour above common sense.

If there is an agricultural King of Scotland, then he must be young James Withers, currently CEO of the NFUS, but shortly to become new CEO of Scotland Food and Drink. The Scottish Government has just stuffed his sporran full of bawbees to spend on developing the Scottish food industry and I'm confident that he will do this wisely. His first challenge will be to sustain the Scottish "brand" in foreign export markets such as England, where consumers increasingly favour "local". Got to it, young James, say I, you can achieve what Bonny Prince Charlie couldn't.

Murrayfield was absolutely stappit for BonJovi. On the way in, the boss declared that she was only there out of duty, and said she couldn't recall a single BonJovi song. But soon, she was jumping up and down. I asked her tentatively if she was enjoying herself? She said she was merely trying to keep the blood circulating in her veins.

The band sang "we're half way there ..." I listened and just smiled.

Friday 17th June 2011

It's June in London, so of course I'm looking out at the cascading, relentless, unremitting rain. This week, it's been pouring down on the open air rock concerts, Royal Ascot, the test match, and all the summer sausage sizzle receptions. It misses no-one. Shelter under a tree, wait till it recedes, step out from under your cover, and within seconds you're drookit.

I've achieved a life time ambition this week. I took a £55 hit, just to see Don MacLean sing 'American Pie' live. I just wanted to hear that one song and it was memorable. Mercifully it was also dry, but all around me people sat in these transparent rain condoms, waiting for the next downpour. What a country!

Even inside the office our spirits have been dampened by Fergus the Green's forthcoming life defining significant birthday. He's realised that he's only achieved 10% of the items on his '20 must have done by…' ambitions list. So for the next two weeks he's going to be dating movie stars, travelling in a rocket to Mars, and buying mansion house estates in Berkshire. Don't give up, Fergus. 30 is very old, but it's all still possible. I'm a bit of a last minute man myself.

Frustration has continued to reign throughout my week. I'm in the office today instead of being at the one golf day I try to attend each year. And I'm here because the lawyers, accountants and advisers that we engage, albeit sparingly, continue to charge fancy but deliver slowly. Everyone chips in an extra effort during economic recessions but I think that it's this country's 'professions' that should spend a bit more time in front of the 'ethical' mirrors. But my day has again been disrupted by the emotional and evidence scarce article in today's Independent on the use of antibiotics on farms, linking overuse to large scale farming. The first line of this reads 'Here is a news story that could determine whether you live or die'. Good grief. Again we have the increasingly common problem of emotion being much more interesting and readable than fact. So what do you do?

Well first you have to recognise and be aware that it is a consumer issue. Then you have to pump out as much factual information as you can. That's how the NFU successfully persuaded the WI. And above all, you must not swerve from engaging in the correct production practices on farms and in factories, all the time explaining to consumers what you're doing and why you're doing it. And if they demur, then you have to change, but if you explain first, and you have evidence, they won't demur. It's an ongoing battle, but one we'll win with evidence, communication and persistence.

It's Father's Day on Sunday. Just like dads everywhere, I'm waiting to find out how much my children appreciate me. The boss has been asked to find out subtly what I'd like. I've subtly indicated that I'd like each of them to relieve me of one hour's weeding in the garden. I understand that this request has been subtly but flatly rejected because "we can't tell the weeds from the plants". We've subtly compromised on three transparent plastic rain condoms. Three, because much to my chagrin, once you take one out the pack, you can't use it again. So Bon Jovi at Murrayfield next week and Take That at Wembley the week after, here I come. The third one is for the next 'Travis' concert. It'll probably cost me another 55 quid, and for sure they'll sing 'Why Does it Always Rain on Me'. But this time, I'll not be the one who's Wet Wet Wet.

Friday 10th June 2011

In a family close to my own, a crisis unravelled this week. Pickles, an adopted but a much loved stray moggy, came off second best in an exchange with a 4x4 outside the front gate. Urgent veterinary attention was needed. The quote from the vet was £5000. "Eh? How much", I said. The family paid up (don't even begin to fathom that out, unless you're a cat lover). Ultimately, the bill was £3000, but every cricket bat in the house was 'accidently' flung through the nearest window.

By co-incidence, the great "Dastardly Dick" Sibley, unchallenged doyen of the British cattle veterinary profession, was on the subject of paying vets at Dairy UK's farming conference in Worcester this week. His presentation on Johnes Disease was the jewel in the glittering galaxy of star presenters at the conference. So good, infact, that he's going to do it again at our conference at the Dairy Event in September. Dick was stressing the need to pay vets properly for their vital role in the battle against Johnes. To emphasise the veterinary poverty issue, he even wore a jacket that had clearly been bought to attend his final year dance at school. Find yourself some cat lovers Dick, I thought, but of course he's right. He told me afterwards that he'd been fighting the case for higher vets fees for 20 years, ever since I'd put a curse on the profession by writing to the Farmers Weekly to say that the newly formed farm assurance scheme (he and I were two of the original creators) was a blank cheque for vets. I don't remember that, but read on Dick, because I'm going to do it all over again.

Dick's point about Johnes control was that while it could be identified and contained on the farm, there was a real issue with cattle brought on to the farm. An increasing trend, he claimed. This isn't just a Johnes' issue, it applies to all cattle diseases which are not immediately apparent by a visual inspection. So the obvious solution that jumps out at you is some form of disease certification for all traded cattle: a cattle MOT, as I called it on the day. Since Dick spoke, I've discussed this with a few farming colleagues. It appears that various initiatives have been made, but no-one has really grasped the nettle. A little bit like Johnes Disease before Dairy UK got involved. Maybe we should get involved in this as well?

I'd like to talk more about DairyCo's Milkbench+, and why such an apparently sound margin improving service has such a low uptake, but instead I'm sacrificing their space in favour of Tony Blair and the NFU. The former struck a chord with me on Wednesday when he spoke about the difficulties of becoming competitive in the UK. Look at the struggle to get a third runway at London airport he said. In the next 10 years the Chinese will build 70 new airports without any fuss. I immediately thought Nocton. Competitiveness defeated by the palaver.

So the fact that the Women's Institute this week did not support the resolution against megafarms in the UK was great news for the industry. And congratulations to the NFU for delivering this result. They did the hard yards, attending more than 100 local WI meetings before the National Conference on a campaign aimed at supressing myths. In the end it was worth it and they deserve much credit.

Finally back to Dick. He expressed a desire that in his next life he would like to be a Neospora, because they have a lovely life. Right. I have some advice for him. I'm sure this would be a comfortable existence [and you really do need one!], but I doubt if there's much money in it.

Friday 3rd June 2011

Do you ever get signs from above telling you what direction to take? No? Me neither. But I've come close today. This morning I was sitting on a plane casting my eye over The Derby runners when the pilot announced that his name was 'Gamble'. The name of the cabin manager was 'Presley', he revealed. My eye fell on, 'Memphis Tennessee' available on ante post at 28/1 (Stan James). My money is now on. It has meant betting against the Queen, but you can't ignore the signs can you?

The Dairy UK week has been dominated of course by MRSA. Before the public announcements yesterday the Cambridge University scientist in charge of the project, Dr Mark Holmes, came to the office to explain his findings to our own industry scientists. He wants help with his ongoing research, which of course we are happy to provide. But as well as being an eminent researcher, he is also a passionate advocate of dairy farmers and he articulates their position vociferously. He told us that when he visits dairy farms he is astonished to find a whole range of secondary business activities going on, such as taxi driving and in one case a beauty parlour (not for the cows). Listening to him I was impressed by the innovation of our farmers, but he felt that it should not be necessary for farmers to do other things. In fact he was fully aware that the publication of his results might reflect negatively on dairy farmers, and this was a real concern.

But he had a greater need, and here's the rub. Scientists in the UK like Mark Holmes find it incredibly difficult to source research funds for important issues like this from Government. That is a great pity because we would have all liked to have seen this research at an earlier stage, before it became a debating point in the media. It is perfectly understandable that interest has to be stimulated in a research subject so that projects can be funded and research institutions supported. However, once it becomes a mainstream media issue, there is an inevitability that the research is subject to all kinds of speculation, however well or ill informed. The upshot in this worrying cycle is that industries are hurt before they are helped. Crazy but true, and the result is the kind of dilemma experienced by Mark Holmes this week. How all this has panned out in the media is reflected elsewhere in this newsletter. But for sure, we have to crack this difficult nut.

The Pieman's unforgiving copy deadlines for Dairy UK News mean that I'm writing this in a taxi. I'm late and we're stuck in traffic in the middle of an interminable fras. I comment to the cabby that he must get seriously trachled by traffic jams, but he said "no". "Why not?", I ask. "Because I'm never going anywhere" he said. Calm down Jimmy. It's only a game.

Friday 27th May 2011

It's 5.30am. I'm gazing over the eerie silence of Loch Fyne in the Scottish Highlands. Only the Kittiwakes and I are up. I haven't seen a kipper, but I'm now increasingly familiar with getting up close and personal with wild life. Earlier this week, I met a snake on a road in Goolagong in New South Wales. It wasn't like the normal snakes I come across. This one was transparent and happy to be identified, but I dealt with it just like the rest. I watched as it came out of one pile of long grass, and slither its way across the road into another. I carried on regardless, but I won't forget it: just another day at the office.

Later today, the pipes will be skirling and the kilts flying as my nephew hurtles round the dance floor with his new bride. Alasdair is an avid football fan. This year, his team came second in the league...again. I wonder if Ruth will try and change him?

My other abiding offbeat memory of New South Wales will be the plushness of the carpet on the Ministerial floor of the Government offices at McQuarie Street in Sydney. As I stepped out of the lift, I almost lost sight of my colleagues due to the thickness of the pile. I contrasted this with the harshness of the environment in the European Commission offices in Brussels. I thought to myself, when they speak there of a 'soft landing', this is what they actually meant. But I didn't have long to reflect. The last plane out of Sydney was almost gone, and I was scheduled to be on it.

Twenty six hours later, I'm walking along the Strand in London heading for a meeting of the Prince's Rural Action Programme where an interesting project aimed at increasing the sustainability of farming is progressing. I am congratulating myself on my decision to choose a Big Mac in Hong Kong in order to avoid the prospect of more Chinese food on the last leg of the journey. I mean, I'm just as partial to Mah Gu Gai Pin as the next man, but you can get too much of a good thing...especially for breakfast. Back at the office I deal with a a series of media inquiries on cloning, sales of raw milk, the publication of the draft Groceries Code Adjudicator Bill, and of course producer contracts. Later, I remove the matchsticks keeping my eyes open, and can find no other excuse for avoiding the Pensions file in the 'to do' pile. Pass me a hot towel. I'm going to be here a while.

Nothing stands still in the dairy world, and I noted this week that a number of our global organisations are undergoing change. The International Dairy Federation (IDF) will doubtless undertake a re-evaluation of their culture when the new CEO moves in next spring. Similarly, I see that the governance of the Global Dairy Platform (GDP) is set for a new course now that its founder and early inspiration Andrew Ferrier is leaving Fonterra. I see also that the International Federation of Agricultural Producers (IFAP) has completely disappeared. I'd completely missed that. When I was the IDF President I had always hoped that these three important organisations, all working to the same end, could come together as branches of a single powerful collective. Now that there are only two, with new people at the helm, I wonder if this would be a good time to make the move. I'm sure that together they'd be more effective than the sum of the parts. At the very least, it would avoid the alternative possibility that they both end up doing the same thing.

Finally, I need to address the problem of my ding-a-ling. I lost it about a month ago. It was strapped to the handlebars of my bike when it was nicked, virtually outside the police station in Richmond on Thames. You would have thought that the residents of Richmond on Thames could afford to pay for their bikes, but apparently not. I've now got a new bike, but it is totally impotent without a ding-a-ling. Did I see an advert somewhere saying that Father's Day was almost upon us? Well, go to it girls. A blue and white one would be champion!

Friday 20th May 2011

It's 5.30am; me, the galahs and cockatoos are enjoying each other's company. We're all watching the possum which I saw last night and is still sitting in front of me. It's fascinating. I haven't seen a living possum since the last meeting of the old MMB pricing committee.

I'm plucking up courage to eat the vegemite and toast which has been prepared for me. If it's no good I can give it to the possum. I soon discover that eating vegemite is a bit like eating Stornaway black pudding. It simply has to be experienced to be appreciated, the possum can go hungry.

Reflecting over the last few days there have been some funny moments. I was being interviewed by a TV news presenter along with a farmer. She asked the farmer if he was losing sleep over the issue being discussed. "Well", he said, "When you get up at 3.30am every morning there isn't much opportunity to lose sleep" and
Adrian, who has driven me around what seems like every road in Queensland and New South Wales keeps getting lost. I ask him why he doesn't put on the sat nav: "I can't find it in the car", he says.

It's been gruelling and utterly exhausting here. 10 presentations in four days from Brisbane down to the South of Nowra and back up to Goolagong, where I am now. The meetings have taken place everywhere from RFLs to open meetings in fields on farms where the audience is much better acclimatised to the flies than me.It's the meetings on farms I like best because they are usually accompanied by a sausage sizzle and as my Aussie mates keep telling me, there's no event in the world that cannot be improved by a sausage sizzle.

The politics of it all are intense, much more so than in the UK. Squabbling and finger pointing can stifle creativity I feel. But if you can see through all of this, it's the position of the working farmer that has to be fully appreciated. I've never known or witnessed such consternation as has been caused by the decision of one of the country's two supermarkets to savagely cut the retail price of fresh milk nearly four months ago.

A sizeable chunk of the Australian fresh milk market is branded and value added own label, earning the farmers premiums. The supermarket has levelled out the retail prices of own label value added as well. The other big retailer was forced to follow suit. The consequence has been a political uproar and a Senate inquiry. Although these actions haven't fully hit milk prices yet, the dairy farmers are devastated, feeling lost. Many of them have invested huge sums of money in their farms. I've seen all this. Their contracts are up for renewal soon. You can feel the angst caused by the uncertainty. The problem is that in many parts of Australia – the parts where it's most expensive – the fresh liquid milk market is the only game in town. The normal market rules which give farmers protection through having an alternative use for the milk do not apply. The nearest dairy product manufacturing plant for many is more than 800 km away, so effectively the retailer has become the social conscience of farm profitability.

The Senate inquiry report due in April has been delayed until October. Many see this as a negative. I do not. I think it's a warning to the retailers to reflect on the social consequences of their actions. If they don't, then the Senate may well bring down the hammer.

I'm off now. My next presentation is in a street called Maison Dieu. Surely with a name like that things will go well there. Fair dos. I hope they do and maybe some divine intervention won't do any harm.

Friday 13th May 2011

The Pieman came to see me this week. He wanted to have a Friday afternoon off to take his wife away for the weekend to celebrate a milestone birthday. Unfortunately it would mean missing part of a meeting I wanted him to attend in Brussels. Hey ho, I thought. Far be it for me to stand between the Pieman and romance. I asked him, interested, what he had planned. He flustered on about cottages in Devon and canoes on the river and the like, before coming to the point. The weekend would include taking his wife to the Amlin Challenge Cup final at Cardiff City Stadium! This was a tough decision for me, and I felt it necessary to consult the boss. Would she like to be taken to the Amlin Challenge Cup final on a romantic weekend? "Well, you took me to see Plymouth Argyle on our honeymoon", she said. Hmm. What could I say to the Pieman, other than "if you need tickets, I've got a few sources."

The sparkling new Dairy UK teleconferencing facility is now up and running. The investment will I trust benefit our members who can now save time and avoid hefty transport costs. I now desperately make a plea to our colleagues in the European Dairy Association to make a similar investment so that Dairy UK and their other members can also enjoy these efficiencies.

The first beneficiary of our new system was, curiously, me! I had drifted down to the southern hemisphere for a few days. I am here to work with the Australian industry for a little while on a problem area which they believe had its origins in the UK, but more of that next week. It's been an informative trip so far. I was delighted to see that in Australia they are now extensively using our Dairy Roadmap and carbon footprinting guidance. I was pleased about that because it makes me feel much less guilty that at Dairy UK we are now extensively using Australian performance assessment systems, crisis management protocols and have access to various technical and nutrition extranet facilities. I really am a great supporter of free trade in the modern world!

Another pleasant surprise for me is the Australian fortitude in the face of adversity. Farmers here, like farmers everywhere, have real issues with supply chain margin distribution. But despite this their representative bodies refuse to present a meltdown scenario as a PR strategy.  "Puts off young kids coming in, cobber" they say. Interesting take. I think they're right.

Finally, I must apologise to the Cathay Pacific air stewardess on my flight out of Hong Kong. I inadvertently mistook the name of the sponsoring chef for the actual dish that I was being offered for lunch, but I can thoroughly recommend a bowl of Mr Chin Lee Fang (Kowloon), with jasmine rice of course!

Friday 6th May 2011

The blog goes global this week with stories from as far away as Norway, Westminster, and Inverness. Yes, we know it's a long way to Tipperary, but not as far, seemingly, as it is to Inverness, where this week everyone's favourite chocolate became Terry's All Gold.

But first of all, what do you know about Norway, other than Torre Andre Flo and the Eurovision Song Contest? Well, every schoolkid in Scotland was taught that one of its coasts was called the Skaggerak and not the Kattegat (or is it the other way round?), and that it had a 250,000 kilometre coastline. But that's about it. However, we were spectacularly privileged to receive some charming guests from Norway at Dairy UK this week, and what a revelation. So would you be surprised to learn that Norway's dairy industry is approximately one tenth the size of the UK, but generates roughly one third of the wealth? Not only that, but the milk price is around 40 pence per litre providing for farms with an average herd size of 21 cows. One dairy co-operative dominates almost the entire industry. The price includes a significant direct subsidy from the Government. They are very proud of their flagship product Jarlesberg and have built up a substantial export market to the USA, but they can't earn as much money in the US as they can in their own domestic market, so they get criticized for wasting taxpayers' money by exporting.

So how do we get to be like Norway? Well the fact is that Norway is possibly the most protected dairy regime in the world. It's either Norway or Canada, but I believe its Norway by a whisker. And it's the protectionism that counts. Don't confuse protectionism with regulation. You can't achieve the Norway situation with regulation because you are still operating in an unprotected free market, and regulation will stint your growth and render you uncompetitive. So we can't get to be like Norway. And At the same time it's unlikely that the Norwegian dairy industry would ever vote to join the EU, even though all their quality and scientific control systems are the same as those which apply in the EU. But at the same time, the Norwegian market has its own disciplines, and I haven't said anything about input costs. But for sure the most impressive thing about them is their focus on added value products and their understanding of the importance of product research and development. This contributes greatly to their wealth generation. When we had the protection in the UK that the Norwegians have now, perhaps we didn't understand the importance of AV and product research and development. We do now, and no bad thing.

Any guesses at what the hottest ticket in town this year is? A Royal Wedding invitation? No! A Champion's League final ticket? No! A ticket for Kilmarnock on May 15 when the lads pick up their third consecutive league title? Eh, no! It's an invitation to the House of Commons reception on Monday to launch the latest Dairy Roadmap progress report where once again we have great news to sing out to the world. However, our colleagues DairyCo, who have organised the event, have kept a tight rein on the invitation list. So why the coyness? Perhaps its financial and an attempt to create a secondary market. I mean, a Champion's League ticket is reported in the Daily Telegraph today as being worth more than £7000. Or perhaps it's to leave plenty of room inside for the rucksacks, because the rucksack is a sign of status amongst the Environmental community. The bigger and heavier the rucksack, the greener you are perceived to be. Of course the venerable Chairman of the Roadmap, the great Mr Tim Bennett, will manage the occasion superbly on the day. I've seen him masterfully win over a doubters and sceptics often in the past. But an audience of talking rucksacks? I hope he likes a challenge.

Thursday 28th April 2011

I've had to introduce some censorship at the weekly Dairy UK managers' meeting. From now on no-one is allowed to use the term 'Calm down, dear'. This is in case anyone offends the Queen Bee. From now on any one who feels that the Queen Bee needs to calm down, must communicate that message using body language only.

I've also had to ban the use of acronyms. This is because on Monday, Fergus the Green said 'I'm going to speak ASAP to AEA & DECC about CRCs, CCAs and the CCL,  then the EA about EU ETS issues following the EDA meeting '. The use of abbreviations used to be the preserve of the IT industry. Now, the environmentalists are the worst offenders. A 10,000 word thesis on environmental science can now be written in about three paragraphs. Later in the week, Fergus took as to a pub to celebrate the Royal Wedding. He asked the barman for 2P of L, 2G and T, and 2P of C and OC. Bless him. He more than any of us would be perfect for a Life on Mars.

Dairy UK is of course gripped by wedding fever. The Pieman and Ed not the Eagle can't wait to see what the dress is like, and Westminster resident Malthusian Pete has enjoyed his nightly banter with the security services as he tries to access the street where he lives. No, at first glance, you can understand why they've questioned him so intently, but then the same could be said of any of us here, I suppose. As we swept across London yesterday, through the swathes of Americans, on our way to the House of Commons to give evidence to the Select Committee, I was stunned by the high rise bank of television studios which has been erected outside the Palace. I couldn't quite see the TV crew from Scottish Television, but I suppose their focus will be on the street parties in Glasgow.

But what of dairy representation at this great occasion? Well, my invitation is still in the post, so I'll be celebrating privately. And so far I'm not aware of anyone on my Blackberry address list who is attending. However I know that the dairy industry representation will be led from the very front row. William's father Prince Charles is closely associated with the family dairy farm in Windsor and is, of course, known for taking a keen interest in a number of projects in the industry. So once again, on a day of great national importance, the dairy industry is right at the centre of events.

The Select Committee hearing on the EU Commission's dairy package was revealing for two reasons. The first is the degree of commonality in thinking between Dairy UK and the NFU (who preceded us at the hearing). Sure there are some important differences. They think there is systemic failure in the market. We don't. They favour regulation, we don't. But apart from that it's really more or less the same messages presented in a rather different style. Why should it be any different? We both have the same interests, profit along the supply chain and stability in a volatile market.

But more significantly the willingness of the Select Committee to try and help in difficult circumstances on a wide range of issues was palpable. Communication with consumers to develop a greater understanding of the benefits of dairy and the care and attention our farmers exercise when producing milk, support for  British is best, innovation, investment and real collaboration to improve efficiency are all areas where further positive change can be delivered.  They wanted to help anywhere they could. That's positive and great news for the industry. We can only now expect that these views will be reflected in their report.

Thursday 21st April 2011

Well, Spring is now well and truly sprung and the glorious weather doesn't half lift the spirits. A long standing resident of our garden approached us this week and asked if it would be ok to have the relatives over for Easter. "No problem"' said the boss. "I'll stock up on the stale bread". And there they all were this morning, five little robin redbreasts, eating us out of house and home.

I went to Wembley last Sunday. "Winners are grinners" they say, so I found myself in the Stoke City end of the Champagne Bar. On the menu was "Locally Sourced Scottish Salmon". Eh? I tried some. It was teuch.

It was definitely an 'I was there' day. Along with the other 75,000 attendees, I was privileged to be the first of my generation to see a team get spanked 5 - 0 in an FA Cup Semi-Final. I learned a lot. Leaders usually lead from the front, but not in football. When the chips are down, stirring recoveries are organised and led from the back, preferably by a Scotsman. The losing captain was a fluffy fan dancing striker/diver. Hopeless. Owen, why didn't you get your boots on and come on in the second half?

In a perverse role reversal, the Queen Bee was at Hampden the day before lecturing 200 Scottish football coaches. I mean no disrespect, of course, but come on! Is the future of Scottish football now in the hands of the Queen Bee? She was telling me about it in the reception at Dairy UK, when by coincidence the great Sir Alex Ferguson came on the TV. I told her to hush because when Sir Alex speaks, the whole world stops to listen. She said "I thought he'd retired now". I heard a grating noise. It was Jock Stein turning in his grave.

Cheerio, cheerio, cheerio were the last words the despondent Bolton fans heard as they departed Wembley on Sunday, and it's been a week of cheerios at Dairy UK. First with the retirement of Keith Johnson, our Regional Manager in the North. The Pieman and I dined with him this week and found him as fresh as when I first met him thirty years ago. The same can't be said of our much, much younger Dairy UK chauffeur, Eddie not the Eagle, who was defeated by the challenge of his sat nav system, such that we managed to pay an M6 toll charge going from Birmingham New Street to Sutton Coldfield! Keith is the giant of knowledge and diplomacy in the dairy industry. Over the years, he's taught me stacks personally. He's been a great servant of Dairy UK and we'll miss his talents hugely.

And we'll miss Hayley, of course, at the NFU. Yes, Hayley has gone to seed. Eh, sorry, I'll start that again. Hayley has gone to potatoes, which will be their gain and our loss in the dairy sector. We wish her well in her new role as the NFU's Chief Horticultural Advisor, where I'm sure the potatoes will be just as hot as the ones she's been handling in dairy for the last three years. At the same time, we welcome Hayley's successor Rob Newbery, to the fray.

As they say, we live in interesting times, and next week's oral evidence sessions from the NFU and Dairy UK to the House of Commons Select Committee Hearings on the Dairy Package, will demonstrate that to the full. I'm looking forward to it immensely. But in the meantime I'm off to find a hill to roll my Easter egg down. It's not that easy to find hills in Surrey, at least not ones with pubs at the bottom. Happy Easter to all.

Friday 15th April 2011

The Queen Bee fired a verbal "all points" round the Dairy UK office this week. "I desperately need a liquor", she said.  The Pieman boldly stepped forward with the offer of a nice drop of the fine Armagnac he keeps in his desk for what he calls "medical emergencies". "No", she shouted. "I need a licker. A stamp licker. I have to get 30,000 "Milk It" leaflets out tonight, or the EU won't give me my grant aid".

The Dairy UK Crisis Management team clicked effortlessly into action. I was appointed chief stamp licker, Fergus the Green went on to stuffing, the Pieman made piles (of leaflets) and the Dairy Council girls operated as courier ants to Postman Pat's mail van. In good time, EU compliance was secured.  Another industry crisis averted.

With our good deed for the day done, I eagerly anticipated the Trehane Trust dinner. This annual event is organised worthily each year by the Pieman at The Chesterfield Hotel in London. The Trust awards travel scholarships to individuals charged with bringing best practice back to the UK. It is based on the sound principle that travel broadens the mind.  Oddly enough, it always seems that the best places to broaden the mind are Australia and New Zealand because that's where almost all the scholars choose to go.  I've been to those places too, but my mind hasn't been broadened there anything like it's been broadened in places like Cardiff, Leeds and in particular, the Horseshoe Bar in Glasgow. Indeed, the scholars need have travelled no further than my table for a number of significant mind broadening experiences. These included a discussion on the press report this week from an ex-girlfriend of Prince William to the effect that if she'd hung in there and perhaps become Queen, with maybe her head on the stamps, it would have been nice to have 30 million people licking her face daily. Well, you can't have this kind of discussion in Australia and New Zealand, but you can at the Chesterfield Hotel on Trehane Trust night.

For the most part the Trehane studies are very helpful. Take the one undertaken by my friend the great Kev the Cumbrian Cowman  For his scholarship, he chose to go to Australia, China and the US to study consumer attitudes to dairy products. I was, in fact, privileged late last year to witness his empirical research work with consumers, which as far as I could see was conducted more or less exclusively in the Wallaby Bar in Sydney. When I saw his conclusions, I began to realise that this was all stuff I'd told him that day while waiting for him to buy a round of drinks! Well, I never got my Toohey's New. But now, at least I realised he'd listened.

However, the significance and indeed the value of the Cowman's study, was brought sharply into focus later in the evening as the assembled throng headed off to the bars of the West End to discuss Peter Willes's excellent guest presentation and Q & A session. The principle issue seemed to be that the consumer concerns which contributed to the scuppering of the UK project were not prevalent pretty much anywhere else round the world. As an industry, we need to understand properly why that's the case, and the Cowman's study will help us. There was certainly no shortage of opinion expressed: 'It's not real consumers, its NGOs dominating the media'; ' we're using science, the NGOs are using emotion'; 'we need to educate consumers about modern farming practices'; 'we have to spend more resource'; 'individuals alone can't take on these challenges'. The self analyses went on well into the night (I'm told).

All of this played a part with Nocton, I'm sure, but it's the next issue we have to focus on now. We can't afford another double whammy like this, resulting in industry competitiveness being setback and worst of all a man showing confidence in the future of British farming, having his investment funds wasted on a bloody planning application.

Friday 8th April 2011

As we approach Easter, there is a natural inclination to seek out places of comfort and refuge. So it was that last week I headed off to an NFU farmers' meeting with fellow disciples who included Messrs Potter, Raymond and Handley.

I also went to the Food Standards Agency. Nowadays, that's nothing short of a pleasure, but it wasn't always thus. In the FSA's portalled entry hall, you are reminded that the FSA now shares premises with Ofsted. Ofsted, for those who have forgotten, is the iron fisted inspector of UK educational standards. Their culture is reputed to lie somewhere between UEFA and Guantanamo Bay. Today in the UK media there are extensive reports of a lack of discipline in British schools. How can this happen under Ofsted command I wonder? Over breakfast this morning, I consulted the boss, previously a Deputy Head Teacher at an inner city London school. She tells me that sometimes, Ofsted didn't always get the full picture. Unruly kids, who, on a regular Monday to Friday basis, would display psychotic and psycopathic tendencies, would suddenly adopt a fierce loyalty to the school on the days of the Ofsted inspection. Visitors expecting bedlam often found an atmosphere more akin to the home of compassion.

The conversion of the FSA from villains to saints coincided with the start of the office share with Ofsted. It also, coincided with the departure of the FSA's previous Chairwoman, but in a blog you are not constrained by letting the facts get in the way of a good story, so I dismiss that as a possible explanation.

The FSA has, of course, changed. They've lost the responsibility for nutrition to the Department of Health and I think they miss the profile which that provided. You may not be a supporter of the DoH's new responsibility deal, but for sure it's given them profile. Moreover, without real philosophical political support from the Coalition Government, the FSA are now fighting for their corner in the difficult area where their responsibilities straddle those of Defra. In particular concerning food safety and labelling, and food safety and farm inspections.  The recent episode with the switching of ear tags and TB Reactors, a story which still has some way to run, saw both Defra and the FSA issue statements in a rather than less than joined up manner.  This is a bit of a concern for the industry, because on matters of food safety we must have absolute confidence in our regulators.

Very soon the effective onus of responsibility for hygiene regulation inspections in the dairy sector is going to transfer from the FSA to our farm assurance scheme, the ADF. This has been universally welcomed, including by Dairy UK. It will avoid duplication, it will save money, and it will ease the bureaucracy on farms. But it also places an enormous responsibility on the ADF, and we have to understand that definitively. We can make no sacrifices on food safety, no matter how much bureaucracy is eased by the alternative, so I for one have been less concerned about the time it has taken for the FSA to make this change. And I'm still concerned about the situation in Northern Ireland, where the penetration of Farm Assurance Schemes is much reduced. I feel that different arrangements are necessary for Northern Ireland, and I hope that the authorities there are listening.

There was obviously someone in the audience from Ofsted at the NFU farmers' meeting. It was calm, logical and constructive, with none of the passion lost or dilution of the important messages being transferred. We even discussed excessive bureaucracy and red tape on farms, a subject on which Messrs Potter, Raymond and Handley are all ,as you would expect, articulate and persuasive. At the meeting it was generally agreed that the report of the great Richard MacDonald, now less than a month away, would deliver handsomely for the farmers on this vexed issue.  Whereas in these sessions I am occasionally and unkindly referred to as "Big Mac", Richard is always respectfully deigned worthy of the accolade, "Super Mac". I defer totally to his claim for superiority on this issue; if he delivers for the dairy farmers, he will certainly be worthy of it.

Friday 1st April 2011

I've just had a Linkedin message. Do I know Simon Bates? Of course I flipping well do. I've seen his face in the Wanted posters. It's like when you see an ad in the paper "Have you seen this man? Phone 999. So you phone up. "Nope!". Soon I'm expecting a Linkedin message saying 'do you know Jim Begg'. I'll deny it of course. Time I was Linkedout.

I'm still trying to recover from the biting cold in New York. It was truly perishing. Every day I watched the weather forecast hoping for a change. But I soon learned that TV forecasters in the US aren't employed for their meteorological qualifications. Indeed, once they've said 'good morning', they've already told you more than they actually know. On the worst of the days I got up in the middle of the night to find a bar to watch the Scotland v Brazil game. I trudged all round to no avail. I got back to find my daughter (who annoyingly insisted that while in America she was to be called CAS, which stands for Cool As, Stateside) sitting up in bed watching the Scotland game in her hotel room. 'They were losing, so I didn't phone you', she said. 'Thanks', I replied, thinking it's not too late to change the will.

There's going to be a lot more rammies like we've seen this week in Brussels when the European Parliament and the EU Council fell out over cloning. The fact is that the European Parliament now has huge power and it's clearly going to exploit it. Who would bet against the next flare up being on the Dairy Package dealing with contracts and Producer Organisations? A repeat of this week's events could see that whole piece of work pushed deep into the long grass.

The reason for the fall out between the two co-decision partners was fairly clear. One took the consumer view. The other, driven by the science, took an evidence based view. I think, as we go forward, we're going to see this divide repeated many times, and it's worthwhile reflecting on which view is likely to prevail. Unfortunately, consumer opinion and the evidence aren't always compatible bedfellows and the FSA and Defra, both sound pragmatists, must be reflecting on that in the wake of the Brussels debacle. On this occasion Defra were a bit unlucky on being fingered as the culprits for the breakdown. They were only, after all, trying to bring the UK into line with practice on the continent.

However, I've had conversations this week with politicians, consumers (viz the boss) and officials. And undoubtedly it's really tough when consumer opinion doesn't co-incide with what the industry believes to be sound science. But we've been in this situation regularly before, and the message is always the same. Consumers are subject to many conflicting messages. If we want to take evidence based approaches to difficult issues like cloning, then the consumers must understand the science on which our approach is based. Consumer education is the key. And it's our responsibility to turn it.

Friday 25th March 2011

A taxing week for sure, eh? I was at a prestigious dinner. Next to me on my right was a fellow student of our national game but he was morose and dejected after events at Hampden last weekend. I noticed the excitement in his eyes as he gazed enviously at the finery of silverware on the table. Yes, silverware is great. In fact you just can't get enough. I looked at him anxiously. No, don't do it my friend, your time will surely come. After all, it's only been 784 silverwareless days. Fortunately he had relaxed. The moment had passed. Phew! I made a mental note to buy him an old Mother Hubbard trophy cabinet for Christmas. He liked that as he reminded me he could put the one trophy he had before anyone else in Britain in it. He'll be fine.

Page 28: always, always start with page 28. At Dairy UK we learnt that lesson on Wednesday – Budget day.  We were all tuned in to the Chancellor's speech waiting tensely for an announcement on the future of the Climate Change Levy (CCL) Scheme. Would the Chancellor take away the food industry's discount? We waited through income tax, corporation tax, being open for business etc etc. A cheer went up in the office when the cut in fuel duty was announced. Dairy UK's letter to the Chancellor clearly brought home the bacon on that one, but eventually nothing at all on the CCL.  Well, no news is good news we thought. Had the collective lobbying effort by the whole food industry and masterminded by Malthusian Pete and Fergus the Green from Dairy UK borne fruit?

We started to read the Treasury back up papers and then we found it. The CCL schemes would continue, but with "simplification". Right, we can live with that. We can start to develop a strategy. And then at about 4pm, the man from the maltsters, one of our lobby gang, sent round an email. "Have you looked at page 28?" he said.  Eh no, but we soon did and there it was. There will be a consultation on simplification but "all 54 CCL schemes will continue to be eligible for discount". Bingo!...well at least for the time being. Had we got bad news instead, the cost to the dairy industry would have been around 13 million pounds. Fortunately, now, there is still everything to play for.

I'm writing this in the "Big Apple", in the Marriot Hotel in Times Square in fact. I've just come through a phalanx of 'merchandisers' trying to sell me theatre tickets. One guy asked if I wanted to see a great comedy show. I said "no, I'm a Rangers supporter, I can see one every week". It's snowing. They are putting salt on the roads. I'm reminded of the CASH (Consensus Action on Salt and Health) hooley at the House of Commons this week. The CASH strategy is to name and shame and this year their target was Wetherspoons. What a pity. I like Wetherspoons. I would miss them if they weren't there. I'm not sure I would necessarily miss a CASHless society.

Friday 18th March 2011

Fergus the Green is widely recognised as Dairy UK's own dedicated follower of fashion. I mean come on. How can a man who wears Elvis shoes with wooden soles not be a real cool dude? Anyway, he's clearly highly influential in shaping the sartorial culture of the organisation, and he's been trying to persuade us to dress up in boiler suits and go paintballing for the Dairy UK summer outing. He says that being hit by a paintball is roughly similar to being rapped by a wooden spoon. Hmm! Now there's not much you can teach a Scotsman about wooden spoons. We've got hoards of them. I'm expecting to pick up another one at Murrayfield tomorrow. But I've always regarded them as tokens of failure rather than instruments of pleasure. I'm just so out of touch these days!

Hot air exuded plentifully at Stoneleigh Park this week. Not from the Defra "consultative" meeting to decide whether the AHDB should in future be a private or a public body, but from the adjacent field in which there was a bouncy castle trade fair in progress. There was much conjecture over whether this vast inflatable city was in fact the new AHDB headquarters, although Farm Minister Jim Paice scotched this rumour in his opening remarks. Some dissident AHDB levy payers were disappointed by this. For a moment they had believed they could have brought the whole organisation down with nothing more than a sharp safety pin.

In reality, the consultation was a non-debate. Moving from a public to a private body would apparently mean buying out the pension schemes, and who is going to do that at the moment. So that is the rock on which the ongoing structure of the AHDB is likely to be founded. But it was nevertheless interesting to listen to the arguments, which I would encapsulate as follows. The supporters of the status quo i.e. a statutory levy, say that it's necessary because farmers wouldn't fund some of the investments that the AHDB know are necessary for the future, such as research. Put another way, the AHDB know better than the farmers what's in their best interests. The supporters of a voluntary scheme, which includes Dairy UK, say  funds would be protected by contractual agreements; more flexibility would be introduced by delinking from Government; and expenditure would be more in line with what farmers actually want, thereby strengthening fulfilment of the value for money criteria. The probable outcome is no change, but it's early days in the thought leadership process.

I've been amused this week by a proliferation of emails between our industry marketing gurus as to why this or that celebrity should front up the next stage of the Milk Marketing Forum campaign. All the contributions seem to be prefaced by the phrase "I'm not in the target market, but……" and then implied is…"I'm as cool as Fergus the Green so I know all about what's going on in the target market". I'm not in the target market either. I can't think that I've ever been in anyone's target market, ever, except perhaps for the odd recalcitrant NFU President or two. But I don't want to feel left out. So I pass all the comments to my daughter Cool As, and she tells me what to feed back to the group. I now feel I'm influential, part of the club. So life's really cool. Pass me my man bag, I'm off to Edinburgh with my wooden spoon for a fun weekend.

Friday 11th March 2011

At what point do you know for sure whether or not you're going to have a good day? Nanoseconds after you raise your head from the pillow? My daughter Cool As says it's all determined by which ticket gate you go through at Waterloo Station in the morning. If you choose the wrong one, it doesn't matter what you do, it won't make any difference. I'm different, I do The Telegraph crossword on the train in the morning. If I don't fill in a minimum of 50 letters, I don't make any major decisions all day. Not even as important as what to have for lunch. We're clearly a family of fatalists.

But this week, a key decision had to be made, and there was no avoiding it. What to give up for Lent? I swithered indecisively, but eventually made up my mind. So rabbit snaring and bare back bull riding will be my own personal sacrifices this year. And this will allow me to stay on the chocolate and cakes diets that seem to work so well for the ladies of The Dairy Council. Carry on, ladies. My favourite is the almond slice!

The Dairy UK Board is rightly preoccupied with cost. They demand and expect efficiencies, and I have to deliver. It's the same in any business, and it's also the same in Governments. The current round of spending cuts are a testament to that. What is more difficult to manage is where cost is not eliminated, merely transferred to somebody else. Last week in N. Ireland, I was party to a debate in which the transfer of costs from Government to industry on a particular issue could lead to an increase in the actual costs by more than double. That to me is just plain daft.

This week, we've been looking at the Climate Change Levy, and the Government's plans to replace the existing discount scheme with new, as yet undetermined, arrangements. The chances are that the dairy sector, and indeed the whole food industry, may be excluded from future discounts. If that happened the sector would face a significant increase in costs. And yet, under the current arrangements the dairy sector has achieved a sector energy efficiency gain of nearly 30% and is way ahead of its targets. It is palpably delivering on what the legislation is there to do. So why change?  Once again, that just seems plain daft to me. A real false economy. So at Dairy UK, we're working on this issue. Assiduously.

There will be a Tartan Army invasion of London this weekend as the lads come down to collect the Calcutta Cup at Twickenham and take it back to where it rightly belongs. Not, of course, that defeat to this current England squad is any shame. ....unless, that is, Mr Chris Ashton tries to repeat his impersonation of a diving swallow, immediately violating the important principle of winning with dignity. I'm confident that I speak for every non England rugby supporter and many sporting England fans as well, in suggesting that Mr Ashton wears a sporran before he tries a swallow dive on Sunday. He might then be persuaded not to try it again.

Friday 4th March 2011

As you've heard me say many times in this column, life is all about timing. So it is then that I noticed in the current issue of the BMI flight magazine two main feature articles. The first was 'How to make the most out of your first visit to Tripoli', followed later in the magazine by a piece on 'Romantic Weekend breaks in Cairo'

Alas, I fear that DairyCo's Company Strategy and Performance report for 2010 (comparing the market performances of the main British dairy companies) published this week also suffers from the inevitable delay between compilation and publication. The analyses are made on fairly historic information, but what can you do? Things take a while to get through the typing pool!

The felony, however, is compounded in this particular case by committing the cardinal sin of taking a point in time and manifesting itself as the big picture.  You simply can't do that without coming to completely wrong conclusions. You can say, blithely, that one or other part of the supply chain is retaining more than its fair share of the pie, then send your economists off  to find a period of time that suits your argument, or you can take a long term perspective, and see if the story is different. It almost always is. And I think most people are interested in the long term.

The crux of it is in a statement in the DairyCo press release which says ' There was a lack of involvement in the commodity markets during 2009/10 with those buyers able to divert milk supplies to commodity markets, not choosing to, perhaps in an attempt to maintain long term relationships with current customers'. "Perhaps"? Absolutely definitely would be my view. And what policy would you advocate?

But I don't want to be over-critical of this report, not only because the problem really resides in the gloss put on it by the press release, but also because it comes from DairyCo's excellent Datum department, and they more than most have tried to explain fairly the factors which go on in the marketplace. But there is one more thing before I stop. They identify a problem of market signals being passed down the supply chain, stating that 'pricing signals to farmers are obscured as buyers do not provide details on the balance of market forces which have created the need for a price change'. Not so in my view. It all happens in the producer groups, a real success story in the British dairy industry. And the bits they leave out are filled in by the datum service themselves, every week. You underestimate your expertise guys.

For a clearer insight, I would recommend that the authors of this report turn to another communication published this week from the excellent milkprices.com. Their analysis of the market heralded the fact that the profile of manufacture in this country had led to a more stable price situation for dairy farmers, albeit still volatile. And they wisely commented that 'rarely the time line of what is happening right now right this minute holds the solution to problems'.  Yes, Mr Bradley, you couldn't have said a truer word.

Friday 25th February 2011

Welshie from Defra is out of milk. I mean she's gone to as yet undetermined pastures new. We took her out to say baa baa. In the restaurant she asked for a lamb and lava bread pie. The waiter, looking sheepish, [Editor's note: How much more of this can our esteemed readers be expected to take?] said "we don't serve that madam, this is a Chinese restaurant".  There were lots of tears: Welshie because she'll obviously miss us, The Queen Bee just because of the mention of the words lava bread, and me, because Welshie said that DairyCo's Cannon and Ball had wined and dined her so regally such that she couldn't finish their champagne. Good luck Welshie, and thanks from all of us at Dairy UK.

The indefatigable Cat in the Hat breezed into Dairy UK this week. Instantly, the atmosphere was electrified. You can always hear The Cat before you see her. Her arrival is always spectacular. "I can dance, I can sing, I can do anything" she cries, balancing a cup of coffee on her nose and copies of the last two months' Cosmopolitan attached to her ear-rings. "Hello, Karen", I said. "What can we do for you today?" "I've come to learn the ways of the world" she announced…………"OK, Karen, you've come to the right place"!

Momentarily, I wondered if this was a job for the Pieman. After all, delegation is a powerful management tool. But a true leader knows just when he has to step up to the plate himself. I rolled my sleeves up, and started the preparation. I mosied round to our Liquid Assets Department in the back office. I found the Pieman there counting the beans. "How much is left in our hospitality account," I asked. "Nothing", he said. "Welshie cleaned us out". What about "Education, Training and Skills"? "Same", he said. "We've spent a lot of time educating people this year. All we've got is a bag of rose petal flavoured rice that the Japanese government delegation gave you this week for telling them to forget about deregulating their milk marketing boards". "That'll have to do", I said, "she'll appreciate the fact that they're recycled"

The Cat and Fergus the Green are, of course, respectively the queen and king of the dairy industry Roadmap. And who would dispute that this is one of the finest collective pieces of work by any agricultural sector anywhere in the world. It has been, of course, under the microscope by the world's dairy industries, anxious to replicate it. It is also promoted by government as the template for other agricultural sectors in the UK to follow. It's successful because there is a triple whammy of benefits. It shows that the industry is not in denial about its environmental obligations, it reduces media pressure and it forces meaningful change. And, finally, meaningful change increasingly means more profit.

But while the rest of the world catches up, it's now time for us to move on. The Roadmap's success provides a perfect opportunity for us to use it as the vehicle for bigger and wider environmental projects, including the new climate change management arrangements which the Government will bring in this year. We don't yet know what these will be, but it's important that when we do, the Roadmap is robust and truly fit for purpose in a bigger role. So when the Roadmap Committee meets in London next week there will be two things to do. One is to celebrate the second year's results, because there's another good story of achievement to tell. The second is to look at it, in terms of its appropriateness for the long term, and a wider more all embracing role.

The Cat was heading off to Defra. Before she left I asked her if she had enjoyed her visit. She said Dairy UK reminds her of the label on a packet of Jammie Dodgers…….could contain nuts!  "Thank you Karen", I said. "Do you know the way?". "No problem", she replied. "If I get lost, I've got a Roadmap"! And off she went, balancing a packet of scented Japanese rice puffs on her head.

Friday 18th February 2011

The price of love came sharply into focus on Monday as the nation opened its Valentine cards. My own personal investment this year was a mighty £3.09. I know this to be very close to the Scottish male average, because Valentine's day always seems to coincide with my weekends away with Scottish males attending Six Nations rugby matches. Inevitably, we determine Valentine's day policy collectively. The cards are always full of vivid colourful imagery, because a picture is worth a thousand words and my rugby friends are doers not talkers. Indeed, I observe in our duty calls home on these weekends that the average Scottish male can communicate very effectively with his partner on a maximum vocabulary of four words…Aye, No, Fine, and Right. Yes, action not words is our motto. It's just a pity that this attitude hasn't quite transferred over to our rugby team yet. It was bad enough getting humped by the Welsh. It was even worse getting humped in the £60 seats.

It's not about the money, sang new pop angel (and surely a potential Make Mine Milk candidate?) Jessie J at The Brits this week. If she'd sung that instead at the NFU Conference in Birmingham, she'd have been drummed out of the brownies. There were some highs at the conference. For example, I found a £1 coin on my seat at the dinner. Then a really nice desk clerk gave me a free car park ticket. There were also some laughs. Caroline Spelman, later in the week forced to apologise to the House of Commons on forestry policy, rehearsed her lines by saying the Government had chosen the NFU's own Richard MacDonald to chair the regulation task force instead of an academic (we know what you meant, Caroline). Or HSBC Chief Economist Denis Turner saying there were three kinds of economists - those who can add up, and those who can't.

There were also some opportunities, such as moving forward the debate on milk constructively and positively. Regrettably, at the time of greatest need, we contrived to throw these away. The standing room only session on dairy became a destructive blamefest. No-one doubts the severity of the margin position on many dairy farms. However, having accepted and recognised that, we have a responsibility to try and discuss solutions. I'm also confident that on all the difficult issues - contracts, producer organisations, exports, production systems - there are common sense ways forward, albeit requiring detailed dialogue. But mayhem is not a recipe for progress. Far less, why would anyone think that calling someone names is an incentive for getting them to lift a finger to help you? It only provides manna for the piranhas, and doubtless, their version of events is now being crafted devilishly elsewhere. An opportunity lost, I feel. Until the next time.

On Thursday evening I joined my family to celebrate the boss's em….tieth birthday in a lively London restaurant/night club. Lateish, we found ourselves lustily singing the old Proclaimers song 'Letter from America' with one of my offspring 'Cool As' leading the way from the table top. It was one of our 'car songs' when the kids were young and it's about the closure of traditional Scottish industries forcing the workforce to emigrate. Given the news of the previous day, I decided to change the words to "Lochaber, no more; Sutherland, no more; Lewis, no more; Nocton, no more".  Somehow it seemed appropriate. What a great, great pity. Notwithstanding the public antipathy or otherwise for large scale farms, we can't afford as an industry for pioneering ventures like this on farms to fail. And we can't allow individuals to bear the full cost of initiatives which ultimately could benefit all of us. My family sang out the new words with gusto. I only hope that our future pioneers and risk takers don't end up sending home…. Letters from America.

Finally, my quote of the week: it's from Italian footballer and ex-Ranger Gennaro Gatusso, when asked what big Joe Jordan had said to him in Milan, to provoke the head butt. "We were talking in Scottish", he said. "No-one else would understand!" That says it all.

Friday 11th February 2011

Every week has its ups and downs, its highs and its lows, its laughter and its tears. And there's always a point when trust battles with treachery for the domination of the thoughts in your head. It's now mid-day on Friday and all I can say is that by the law of averages, my afternoon is going to be wonderfully positive. Indeed at one point this week, in an arena that I would least have expected it, I was moved to recall an incident some years back when I was one of a team negotiating milk prices for the MMB. A guy on the other side of the table, from the processors' team, said "Tell me Jim, when you go home at night what do you tell your children that you do?" My clever dick answer was "I tell them about all the difficult and awkward people I have to deal with during the day." He smiled, and replied "Yes, I can see what you mean. But what do you tell them about us?"

But in the darkest hours, anti-heros are born, later to mutate into the nemesis of the short sighted. In this capacity, step forward the spur throated locust nymph. The spur throated locust nymph is found in Australia, and is a bigger lustier hungrier version of the standard version; a sort of Kenny Millar evolution of Fernando Torres if you like, and it's currently eating its way through the entirety of the Australian arable crop, impacting arable and dairy farmers alike. This, coupled with the floods, fires, cyclones, and various other plagues has created very testing times for dairymen. Then, right in the middle of it all, the major supermarket chain Coles cut the retail price of own label liquid milk by a third. Yes a third. Immediately their rival Woolworths followed suit saying "we have to be competitive. That doesn't mean we agree with it". Woolworths then tried to pacify things by offering Queensland farmers a derisory 5 cents per litre supplement to pay for the damage caused by our aforementioned hero, the spur throated locust nymph, and all the rest. A bitter sweet pill indeed, and of course much too late. The supermarkets now face a Senate inquiry, a possible competition law inquiry, and potentially an EGM of the company which owns Coles called by shareholders who want answers. I wonder if they could've seen this coming. I mean sometimes you just wish you'd gone to Specsavers. If there is a moral to this story, I leave it to others to interpret. Doubtless you'll let me know.

I'm looking forward to the NFU conference next week where I'm scheduled to play a bit part at the dairy breakout. I've declined the special 'conference rate' of £200 for a night in one of the Hilton Hotel isolation cells (Dairy UK rate for the same frugal facility at the coming Dairy Event in September is £99). I'm not averse to sleeping in the car park, but only if I can find a resident to sub me with a £5 resident's voucher.

I'm also looking forward to hearing Dairy Co's Amanda "Crystal" Ball tell the marketing world how to educate the general public on large scale farming. Yip, Crystal, we all need to know the answer to that. But if she's looking to supplement her London lecture, she may wish to share with us the link between her recent trip to Cairo, and the ensuing civil riots which started the day she left. Yes, life's all about timing.

Finally, a strong candidate for quote of the week comes from Ireland regarding an announcement which said "Because of the cuts, we can no longer afford the light at the end of the tunnel". But the winner was a friend of mine who recently attended a Joe Cocker concert and thought Joe looked just the same as in the old days. Reflecting on an explanation, he commented "He's like you, Jim. He looked old when he was young"

Friday 4th February 2011

Things were tense on Monday, transfer deadline day. On this day every manager in the country sits and waits for the transfer requests to arrive. Fortunately no-one knocked on my door. Nevertheless I was reflective when a deal to loan me to the NFU till the end of the season fell through at the last minute. Personal terms were not an issue, but they felt that the loan fee of a bag of toffees was too high for a deal to be struck. Phew. That was a close one for everyone!

I've had a ferociously busy week and I suppose middlingly successful, but somehow I feel it's been wretched. Do you ever feel like that? Anyway, if you're looking for sparkling wit and repartee in this week's column, turn away now. At any rate, the pint of Guinness now sitting in front of me is some consolation. But only because it's sitting on a bar top in Paris where I am avec mes bons amis. It's blowin' a hoolie outside, so I expect I'll be here for a while. The bar is called "L'homme Gai" which I broadly translate as "The Happy Chappy". Irony personified or what?

I know what's really perturbing me, but I'm less sure about what's accentuating it. I think it's that I've spent a lot of time this week either meeting or addressing the most important organisations who influence the future of the dairy sector, and they blithely admit that they struggle to understand the machinations of the dairy industry. I include in this the parliaments in both London and Brussels. There is no shortage of goodwill or good intent, just, sometimes, blind miscomprehension about how things work. This is serious because if they don't understand it, they can't fix or improve it. Indeed the question most asked by the legislators of Dairy UK is what are the unintended consequences of what we're about to do? Dairy UK's crusade to change this situation goes on. It is a formidable challenge.

I do not include in my catalogue of knowledge free institutions, the fine gentlefolk of the Board of the RABDF, whom I addressed this week. They showed respect, understanding and perceptiveness in their questions, many of which were about farm input costs. I had intended to use as an example of profligacy the fact that the sandwich lunch had include the biggest bowl of potato crisps I'd ever seen. Was this unnecessary cost for the British milk producer? Indeed not. Soon after, the uneaten crisps were put back into the jumbo sized packets doubtless for later consumption elsewhere. I was impressed. A small victory for future competitiveness I thought. Every little helps.

I've got some things wrong this week. I must apologise to young Derek Kennedy, Trojan defender of Assured Dairy Foods, for calling him Duncan all the way through the ADF Board meeting this week. It's an age thing, Derek. One day you'll find out. But I do want to make one thing clear. Make no mistake, it was Derek who almost single handedly and with dogged persistence persuaded the FSA to integrate the FSA and dairy farm assurance inspection schemes, saving farmers pot loads of money. So if our dairy farmers are grateful for this, then it's Derek they have to thank, much more than those with vast PR resources who ungenerously neglected to recognise this in their media communications.

As I look around the bar at my fellow countrymen, it is indeed like an episode of 'Men Behaving Badly'. Each of them is preparing in their own way for the triumph or disaster which will befall us tomorrow. Either way we will find something to celebrate.  Again, I find confirmation that it takes no more than for a Scotsman to simply walk through a building to instantly improve it. Yes, Kenny for England is what they're saying in these parts. And who would bet against it? A prochaine.

Friday 28th January 2011

A bad week for Scottish lotharios then. Both Tommy Sheridan and Andy Gray falling victim to the rules of engagement with the opposite sex. And all this coming in the week when we celebrated the birth of Robert Burns. Poor Andy. Dark forces aside, I can tell you that no-one in Scotland understands the offside rule. I played football there for 25 years, and offside was something you automatically claimed as soon as your opponents moved into your half. I always thought that that was what the offside rule was. The referee's actual decision was based on how convincing you could make your scream.

Keen for a greater insight on Tommy Sheridan, I tuned in to the BBC Scotland news. However, it was another item which intrigued me. It seems that someone tried to pinch the Forth Road bridge to sell off as scrap metal. A police inspector was being interviewed. She looked trachled, as though someone had nailed her to the floor. Then I understood as she smiled and said "Mention the word 'copper' to these guys, and they'll be off with you as soon as you like".

I had dinner in London this week with Cindy Schweitzer, ace nutritionist from the Global Dairy Platform in Chicago. We went to Navajo Joe's in Covent Garden which was fine since I'm partial to a good Indian. The restaurant was overcrowded when we arrived, but Cindy got us right to the front of the queue by giving her name as General Custer. Not a bad strategy in a restaurant called Navajo Joe's, I thought. There are no dairy products in the diet of the American Indian. However, Cindy tried to convince me, as she always does, that eating dairy is good for my heart and will help me lose weight. Of course, I was persuaded. Another dollop of cream on my apple pie please, waiter!

I then tried to persuade her that we may have to take a different approach to communicating the health and well being characteristics of our products in future. We had both been at a conference and had spent hours debating the necessity or otherwise of health claims, and the virtues of dairy versus soya and the like. We had both understood the reality that it could be 2013 before we got the science rewritten at huge cost and the health claims bureaucracy gone through before we could meaningfully use claims to prove the goodness of dairy to consumers. At the same time, earlier in the day, at no cost, I had watched a little angelically faced member of a boy band called The Wanted tell the nation that soy "milk" tasted like wallpaper paste: instant, effective, mass communication.

Last year in an Australian supermarket, I had scanned the shelves of yogurt and discovered that in almost all the brands, the term 'yogurt' did not actually appear on the packaging. Instead terms like 'Smart' and 'Glow' were used. The claims on the pots weren't about yogurt, they were about ingredients, set in the context of the consumer's lifestyle. So, from the consumer's point of view, what was inside the pots wasn't necessarily yogurt, it was something to eat which had healthy things in it and was made to be in sync with their lifestyles and beliefs.

Would it be possible to transfer the same context to milk or cheese, I wonder? Don't use these terms.  Promote them on lifestyle. Make claims about the ingredients and not the products (most of which have passed EFSA scrutiny).   Could the product description of milk become a thing of the past?

Cindy looked pensively into her black coffee. She asked me to pass the jug of "White Dream" blend of calcium, protein, potassium, phosphorous, Vitamin B12 and Vitamin B2, and then she asked about the doctors, the health professionals, the academics who advise governments, and all the other people who advise consumers and who make our products essential foods for children from birth. And of course she's absolutely right. The battle for scientific validity must go on. But suddenly, thrust upon us by the bureaucracy of our validation processes, there is something for the world's Dairy Councils to think about. Somewhere there's a balance, and unlike Andy, we have to get it right.

Friday 21st January 2011

We're walking on eggshells at Dairy UK this week while we all work out our new personalities. As you will know, the gravitational pull of the moon has made shifts in the Earth's axis resulting in shifts of astrological signs, along with introduction of a new 13th one called the Imhotep.  At Dairy UK, the Pieman has welcomed this. For a long time he's felt that he's been on a different planet. Now, he's looking forward to meeting some new friends.

But I have bad news for him. Alone in the office, his status is unchanged. A Leo he was, and a Leo he remains. Worse, he has a new rival for king of the jungle. Me! I used to be a fluffy pussy cat of a Virgoan. Now, as a Leo, I'm still a pussy cat, but with a much bigger mouth! Is it possible, you might ask? Fergus the Green has switched from a loyal Cancerian to a versatile Gemini, and the bullish Malthusian Pete was a Taurian and is now spam, according to his computer.  As a Saggitarian, The Queen Bee's sharpness came from the points of her arrows. Now, as a Scorpian, her sting is in the tail. Either way, she's still flighty.

We've been helping Defra this week work out how much milk was lost to the pre-Christmas snow. We reckoned that it was less than 0.2% of production in December, which I think reflects a magnificent effort. So magnificent, that Defra couldn't match it at the Dairy Supply Chain Forum meeting this week. I could see no snow, and the meeting was in a warm office, but still the coffee failed to make it through. This is a serious issue for the Defra apparatchiks because they're only allowed coffee when there are visitors. The missing coffee visibly affected their attitude. For a while, Welshie and Tommy behaved like two bald men fighting over a comb. The Minister politely declined my suggestion of whisky as a substitute, which I felt was justified on market failure criteria. Eventually, order was restored once the coffee arrived and the meeting flowed effortlessly. The farm minister Jim Paice continues to impress. As recommended, most of those attending had taken a substantive dose of constructive pills and at the end the Minister said he welcomed the positive outlook for the future. But he added that this shouldn't hide some deep felt concerns about the present. No-one missed this message. Good meeting. More good stuff to come from this area.

For a bluenose, my week has had a disproportionately green focus. This will continue next Thursday when Dairy UK is flying-in a host of global environment and nutrition experts from the USA, Sweden and France. They will join local supremos including the Queen Bee and Karen 'Cat-in-the- Hat-I-Can-Do-Anything' Wannacott at a Dairy UK conference which will lay the dairy industry's sustainability and nutrition credentials open for public scrutiny. All the NGOs will be there, with the WWF as main speakers. My hope is that after this we will be a step further towards establishing a platform of co-operation similar to that which the WWF has with the US dairy industry. We'll see how it goes. We need to do this. Come along. It's sold out, but I can always be bought!

It's Burn's day next week so romance will be in the air. Fergus the "Green Grow the Rashes O'' will manage Dairy UK's Burns  week activities, an honour he won in open competition with the following offering  - A man walked up to the inquiry desk in a library, and said "Robert Burns: The Complete Works" The assistant replied "I'm sorry Mr Burns, but the massage parlour is next door". In the words of the great man himself, "whit a blather".

Friday 14th January 2011

The boss has gone off again for a couple of weeks, forcing me into buying 14 new shirts. It's either that or learn how to work the washing machine. But somehow, I've always had an instinct to keep away from things I know I'm not good at.

I needed a clean shirt for my breakfast appointment at the posh Caledonian Club in London, this week.  I don't know if Scotland has an upper class elite, but if it does, then this is its London headquarters. As you walk up to its foreboding portals, you feel you should be taking out your sword, rapping the door, and declaring loudly, "Make way for Mac Duff of Stronachlacher, Lord of the Highlands and Chief of the Clan Praesidium". I was being joined there by Malthusian Pete and the Pieman and I'd warned them both to be on their best behaviour. However, the Pieman went overboard. He was wearing, what in Scotland we affectionately term an "Arthur Montford" jacket. You know, the kind of jacket that you can take off, spread out on the ground and play a game of outdoor chess on. The waiter in the austere hush-hush dining room, mistook him for a pheasant and tried to wrestle him into the kitchen. For a while there was an unseemly stooshie.

Of course the sartorial standards expected at the club could be found in the picture on the wall of one of its high-ranking officials. He was wearing a shiny business suit. As I looked at this, I mused how things had changed. Nowadays, you can buy shiny suits off the peg. In my day, they took ten years to develop, starting with the trousers, and then progressively the jacket joined in.

Very quickly after breakfast, our host suggested that we retire to the Library. He said that the contemplative atmosphere there was more conducive to the thought and reflection necessary for the issues we were there to discuss.  In reality, he was worried that any swearing in the dining room could affect his membership. And the Library is indeed impressive, full of works of history, art, science and literature. Strangely, the books are kind of caged behind locked defences. The Pieman, still obviously scunnered, said that this was to prevent anyone from Scotland getting near to any knowledge! I was impelled to ask him haughtily if he felt under pressure."No", he said. "Why"? "Because I can't understand how anyone can wear a jacket like that and not feel under pressure", was my reply.

We were planning ahead and reflecting on what the New Year would deliver for us.  Thankfully, I feel that the pre-Christmas hiatus in the industry has calmed down. Perhaps this is because everyone is still wabbit from the ongoing lurgy that is laying everyone low. Not that the market place issues have gone away, or are any less relevant, but for the last six weeks or so while everyone else has been revelling, we've been analysing and explaining to people how the dairy markets in the UK work.  Believe me, we are not short of people willing to listen to what we have to say, because for some reason the workings of our marketplace seem to vex most external observers. Sure, the market developments in the sector are not perfect, but they are rational and that's what counts in the UK.  The lags, the relativity in the hierarchy of prices, the different values of milk, the impact on income of supply and demand in the industry relative to marketing and product strategy; they all need understanding, and that's what we  have been doing, slowly and painstakingly. It's vital that more pennies drop in this area, because it's important that our future is steered by understanding and not bluster.

Next week, we have the Dairy Supply Chain Forum meeting in London. The agenda is more forward looking than any I've known in the past. I expect it to be a positive meeting. Although times are tough, there is not much, indeed anything, wrong with the long term strategies being implemented on the UK's farms and in its factories. In our series of year end discussions, no-one has challenged that fundamental reality. So, with a bit of goodwill all round we can turn that into positive action points at the Forum. I'm looking forward to it immensely. I'll probably wear a new shirt.

Finally, I extend the sympathy of the whole British dairy industry to our friends and colleagues in Australia, and particularly in Queensland. My mate Tim Burfitt has been sending through some astounding photographs of the difficulties in the countryside around Brisbane. They are humbling and shocking. I've been trying to contact some friends in Queensland, so far without success. So Ian, I'm sure you have plenty on your mind rather than read this column, but I know you do, so give us a ring. In the meantime, we wish everyone out there every good fortune in seeing this through.

Friday 7th January 2011

I find that the first week of January is the only time in the year when the piles on your desk are in a relative state of organisation. There's the 'Urgent decisions needed on issues going back as far as three years' pile. There's the 'Interesting, but won't push back the frontiers of science' pile. And of course the biggest of them all, the 'Pending and Never' pile. My objective is always to eliminate them all in a single day, but after one day back in the office I'm losing the battle.

Yesterday (Thursday), we had face to face meetings with Defra and Assured Food Standards. We prepared agendas and papers for the Dairy UK Board next Friday, for an important meeting with the Minister of State on Monday, and for the forthcoming Dairy Supply Chain Forum. We resolved difficult issues relating to the acquisition of carbon allowances for the Climate Change Scheme. We responded to consultations on the AHDB, and the Select Committee inquiry on Osteoporosis. We launched an international investigation with colleagues around the world on the use of an animal medicine. And we did an extensive paper for one of our members on what Dairy UK does for its money. It is an important business principle of mine that the only thing which should be on your desk after 9.30am is your feet. Yesterday, I failed.

It's been a shocking start to the New Year for me personally. I went to Barcelona to see Messi play football. He was injured and had to pull out. I like to watch a good horror film over the New Year Break, but this year the one I watched, filmed live on location at Ibrox, was rubbish. But to cap it all, while in Barcelona, an organised gang of sneak thieves successfully managed to separate me from my wallet and a significant amount of cash. It was an operation so slick and efficient that I was denuded of my wealth without feeling a thing. It was like being at an AFS Marketing Committee meeting. But worst of all, in my wallet, in amongst the cash, was my ticket for the Camp Nou.

At times like this, you have to look for the positives. First, the thieves were so expert that in making their escape, they removed the cash (and the ticket) from the wallet and threw the wallet with all my cards etc on the ground. So I got it back, in contrast with all the Russians and Turks that I met later at the police station, who'd had their passports nicked. Secondly, I knew the number of the stolen match ticket. I'd taken a photo of it. Whether the police investigated that I have no idea, but maybe….! The boss, who witnessed all this, has suggested that with our new specialist knowledge, we recoup the funds by setting up a similar operation in Trafalgar Square.  I haven't ruled that out yet, but I'm going to market test it in the office first, probably starting with the Pieman.

Back in Blighty in a search for New Year inspiration, I've been scanning the output from the Oxford Farming Conference. I started with the major policy speech by Food Minister Caroline Spelman. I only got as far as paragraph three where once again she declared her remit as working for farmers, consumers and taxpayers. Right, Caroline. Once again there was nothing in there for a vast segment of my constituency viz food producers and distributors, major employers of people in the British countryside. So, for now, it's been added to the 'Interesting etc' pile on my desk to be read later.

Next, on to the speech from Agriculture Commissioner Dacian Ciolos. He understands his constituency. He gave full details on how important it is, and how important food production is, to the countryside and to the rural economy. Of course his remarks on the CAP of the future were balanced within the overall need to pursue sustainability and the rights and expectations of taxpayers. But the emphasis was on food production, and for me that's an important distinction. He also took care to point out the ongoing need for intervention backup in the dairy sector as a means of addressing volatility. I think he's right. I recommend this speech to you. It's impressive.

On two occasions in the Ciolos speech, I felt he was talking to me personally. At the start, he said 'If you want good advice, ask an old man. I don't feel old enough'. Don't worry, Dacian, I do, enough for both of us. But later, he recalled an old Yiddish proverb – "with money in your pocket, you are wise, you are handsome, and you sing well". How true, and once, Dacian, I was that man.  But now that the man in Barcelona has done his work, I realise that he deprived me of more than just my money.

Friday 31st December 2010

2010: The Year of Consumer Education?

Well what was it like for you then? No, I mean 2010. Yes, I know you feel a lot older now than at the start of the year, but was it a good year or a bad year? Did you move on? Do you feel you're winning? However you measure satisfaction, money, status, development, a clearer vision? Have we taken a step forward, and did you play your part? What do you mean you can't remember? It only happened 5 minutes ago.

Well let me tell you about our year at Dairy UK, and see if that helps. We started and ended the year covered in snow….the White Stuff. Both times, we marvelled at how, despite everything, the milk still gets through. So from the point of view of our core production capability, 2010 was an absolute triumph.

Of course the mark of a good trade association is that you hear nothing about them, and at the same time you have no problems. You just hope that they're awake, while you're getting on with things. Fortunately this year, they were. Otherwise the Government might have withdrawn school milk from the under 5s; or the European parliament might have stopped us calling our liquid milk 'fresh', prejudicing £3.3billion of our income; or Defra might have brought in Country of Origin arrangements that told consumers all about the product except where it was manufactured; or the FSA might have prosecuted us for not knowing if our milk was cloned when it was impossible to know this in the first place. Governments do change their minds you know if you talk to them. And did we do all this quietly? Of course we did. Not a whisper. You'd hardly know we exist.

And did we do anything new? Well, curiously, a large part of our year was spent trying to persuade people not to hang on to old traditions and practices. It always is. Some battles we lost. We couldn't persuade Defra to stop using top up money as a price subsidy on school milk and to use the money on promotion instead. We persuaded them initially, but then they changed their minds. Governments do that, we find. Sometimes for good, sometimes not. We couldn't persuade the European Food Safety Authority to adopt our health claims either, but we did persuade the rest of the EU dairy industry to withdraw them and start again. Sometimes……, actually always, we find that the shortest distance between two points is never a straight line.

Anything else? Well, we brought celebrities back to the dairy industry in England and Wales, and money too, from our pals in the EU Commission. So big names like Pixie Lott, Usher, Jensen and Beth Tweddle and Denise Lewis are advertising our products in two different focused marketing campaigns. Oh, and I forgot about "The Body". And if you don't know who she is, you're the only one. Come round to our office. The biggest picture in the world of her is hanging there.

Is that all? No there's lots of other new things this year, less glamorous, but just as important for our competitiveness. Like a new training academy at Reaseheath generating our scientists and technologists for the future. The Queen went along to open it and she said it was cool. Oh and lots of new industry codes of practice guideline documents, and surveillance monitoring, all spreading best practice and common approaches to problems. We did lots of them this year on cheese, on carbon footprinting, on sustainability, on crisis management, on contaminants and salt contents. Lots of them, more next year too. We prepared 'state of the nation' reports in N. Ireland, with one planned for next year in Scotland. In fact we prepared a lot for next year. CAP Reform, the Commission's High Level Group on contracts and Producer Organisations - the latter in particular very, very important for the future of the industry, we spent a lot of time and money on that. More than any of our colleagues elsewhere in the EU, I'd guess. I bet they wish now they'd paid more attention at the start. We won't know for a while about the outcome, but we're confident, quietly confident. That's our style.

And did we do all this on our own? No, of course not. Have you ever tried to do a tango on your own? We work with lots of people. Surely that's the best way isn't it? We'd do even more if we could, but sometimes silly things get in the way. Take Johne's disease as a great example of industry co-operation. We just gave a gentle nudge and all sorts of organisations get together. As a result, voluntary initiatives have sprung up this year all over the place. We like to think that this supplements the great work that others are doing on welfare like the NFU and their Cow Welfare Strategy.  When you take all this, plus hopefully a more enlightened Government view on TB, this has been a really good year for the dairy industry on welfare. Co-operation works.

So you've been busy then this year? Well never mind the work; it's hard enough for us trying to remember all the new faces. Tons of them this year, all to a man big cheeses in big positions. There's the new Minister of State Jim Paice; the new head livestock supremo at Defra Andrew Robinson; new CEOs at both the NFU (Kevin Roberts) and DairyCo (Duncan Pullar) and new Welshman at the head of the NFU's Dairy Board, Mansel Raymond. Even within the house, we've got a new chairman at Dairy UK, Robert Wiseman; Rex Ward as the new chair of our Farmers Forum and we've even got a new spin doctor at Dairy UK (Simon Bates). All this in 12 months. Amazing. There's hardly any space left on the Dairy UK dart board. No women then? Whoops I forgot. The most important of all, right at the top came Caroline Spelman the new Food Minister. But she hasn't really come out to play yet. All year she's talked about working for farmers, consumers and taxpayers, and all year I've been pointing out that she's missing out a very big part of the supply chain who are big employers in the UK. She's due to make a big future policy speech in a few days time at the Oxford Farming Conference. We'll see if she's been listening.

So do you get on with them all then? Well the DG's a bit dodgy with that blog of his. He says that to mention them is a mark of respect. Hmm. We sometimes change it after he's left the office. He never notices. But of course we engage all the time. We all have the same interest at heart. If we don't work closely with each of our co-organisations each of us is weaker as a result. Simple really.

So the industry's had a good year then? Well yes if you consider all the above and if you look at the vital signs. Prices are up, the exit rate fell, and farmer's confidence was up. That is according to DairyCo (April) and the NFU (October).  Then something depressed a lot of farmers, not by any means all of them, but a lot. Undeniably, rising costs (the ones that farmers good or bad can't really control) and margin pressures have created a fair measure of uncertainty. For some it's very tough. It always will be, especially for those farms supplying the commodity sector.

So what about 2011? Are there grounds for optimism? Well what you always have to remember is that our industry is on a rising demand curve, with a slowly increasing dependence on added value products. That's the right strategy and we shouldn't be diverted from this in pursuit of false dawns because all that glistens is not gold. So that is a much better position to be in than with falling demand and a good reason for a positive approach.

The real test next year will be our ability to convince consumers that efficient farm production systems are also consumer, animal, environmental and industry friendly systems. Those who want to invest in them, and many won't, at the very least should have the option of doing so. That's likely to be one of the big issues of the year and lots of consumer education will be needed.  As will the education of consumers on the nutritional value of our products, because if we neglect that we shall very quickly suffer the consequences. And it's the same with the way we are approaching the environment. Because of very active NGOs, we'll have to tell consumers all about that as well. In fact let's make 2011 the year of the education of the consumer. Let's make that the driver of everything we do. Ultimately that's the best chance we have of delivering our highest return.

So, a Happy New Year to all of you, and thanks to everyone who knowingly or unknowingly provided the scripts for this column in 2010. And my message is stay positive. I'll be starting the New Year in Barcelona on Sunday. Although my thoughts will be elsewhere, I'll be checking out the local football team we might after all draw them in the 2012 Champion's League final. Yes, stay positive, I say. You just never know.

Thursday 23rd December 2010

Tis the season to be jolly. Yes? Well, let me quote you from an email I received a few minutes ago from a colleague. "Set off from London office at 4pm yesterday for 6pm flight from City to Glasgow. Got on plane at 8pm. Sat on runway for an hour then they closed the airport. Legged it to Euston for sleeper. It broke down at Beattock.Now limping to Motherwell. Tell me should I buy a ticket for the Euromillions draw this week? Merry bloody Christmas!" And a Merry Christmas to you too mi amigo. And thanks for the bottle of 12 year old Auchentoshan which you sent me for Christmas. We both know that where there's whisky, there's no real need for central heating. If I could email it back to you through the ether of the internet to fortify you on your forthcoming walk from Motherwell back to Glasgow, of course I would. In any event, I hope you make it home for the Hogmanay party. In my view, your rendition of "Ten Guitars" has no equal, and don't listen to anyone who tells you it'll be even better if you ever learn the words!

But it's still bloody grim, isn't it? Miserably, unrelentlessly grim. And that's me speaking from inside a warm office, (ok, a warm bar). God knows what it's like at -12 degrees on the farms and in the factories. A farmer friend of mine in generous spirit phoned in to say his pipes were frozen. Could I come over and blow on them because I could generate more hot air than anyone else he knew! Ho, ho, ho, I replied, And what must it have been like if you were at the end of a one and a quarter mile queue for the Eurostar? Knowing, that if you ever got to the front, all you had to look forward to was the Eurostar itself. Alas, those in the queue will by now fully share my view that the difference between the Eurostar, and a swarm of mosquitos is that the mosquitos only irritate you in the summer.

At this time of year everyone who just can't say no inevitably gets struck with the seasonal lurgy. And it was this more than anything else which forced me to watch the "Panorama" programme last night. I am so glad I did, because a new hero for the British dairy industry has emerged. Looking uncannily like a re-incarnation of John Denver, former British dairy farmer Tony Gillett in 5 seconds scooped the Dairy UK 2010 Communicator of the Year award. An emotional man, already stricken by the loss of his own business, Tony had been flown to the USA to comment on large scale dairy farms. With Nocton as the target, the programme was lining up for a hatchet job. But standing in the huge milking parlour on the US farm Tony declared himself overwhelmed by how happy the cows looked. And that folks is all that the British consumer needs to know. We in the industry know that this is backed up by sound science, and this information is vital. But in terms of getting the message across to the consumers this was a lesson to us all.

Irrespective of what your views are on large scale farming, we cannot as an industry afford to have this potential advantage removed as an option from our armoury of potential competitive advantages, and this depends on getting consumers on our side. That's why Tony's contribution, was in my view monumental.

Of course the focus of the programme was really about the burgeoning power of supermarkets, and few would disagree that the programme editors got their point across. Many farmers will be rankled by a perceived injustice, and will be reflecting on tactics. I'm pretty clear on that. Why should the messages we send to each other in our Christmas cards which cement our relationships, be any different from the approach we employ in business? We are all at our least effective when we are angry. The velvet glove will always triumph over the clenched fist.  A very happy Christmas from me, and the whole team at Dairy UK.

Friday 17th December 2010

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way….. In my view, there is no finer embodiment of Christmas than carols played by a Salvation Army band. Their musical arrangements are special, and this week they were in top form at Waterloo Station. Although not strictly a carol, my own personal favourite is Jingle Bells, a fondness developed in the days when the Old Firm game in Glasgow was played each year on the first of January. [Ed's note: This comment is for Scottish readers only. He tries, but he just can't help himself]. This week, I listened, waiting patiently for 'Jingle Bells' to come round. Eventually, my time was running out so I offered them two quid for a special request. They agreed, but in austerity ridden Britain, the best they could do was three quid for Jingle Bells, or a Christmas special of four quid for one Jingle Bells plus one Hark the Herald Angels sing with an extra chorus. Not quite BOGOF, I know, but at almost two for the price of one, I snapped up this 'bargain'. Hey, it's Christmas.

Music will feature prominently at the Dairy UK/Dairy Council Christmas party later today where the highlight will be our karaoke competition to see who can reach the upper C note in 'Oh Holy Night'. Move over Katherine Jenkins, I say, as the heavy money pours in for the favourite Fergus the Green. However, my money is going on the Pieman, an outsider at the moment, but I'm taking a long sharp stick with me to encourage him as he makes his way through the octaves. I expect to make a few bob there.

On the business front, I'm getting a touch alarmed at the increasing trend for what in the past would have been considered open consultative meetings with Government to be now informally classified as under 'Chatham House' rules. Dairy UK this week attended two such meetings and two the week before. What's that all about?  I mean, I understand the desire not to restrain free speech, but none of these meetings have exactly been in the 'Careless Talk Costs Lives' category. However, I am but a humble servant of the bureaucracy, so my report of the meeting I attended is as follows:  hysnjm ssjimheyg bkoldjensll xxilkso nnkslouiyt nkolpdhek snjdret nklpoium. Please apply to Defra for the key to the code.

I'm pleased to read elsewhere in this newsletter that Defra has put in place meaningful and constructive consultation talks on the CAP. This is important. There is a public consultation by the European Commission with replies due back by Burns Day. I urge everyone interested in the future of commercial food production to respond to it, because if it's the case (and of course it may not be) that this becomes a battle between a competitive sustainable industry and the provision of public goods, then at the moment the odds are stacked in favour of the latter. The Government sees CAP Reform as a massive opportunity for us to produce the extra food that the rest of the world can't because of climate change. I desperately hope that they follow this through by prioritising competitiveness in the negotiations. Secure that, and the public goods will surely follow. Do it the other way around, and our industry could head off to Brazil.

Well, I'm off to the party now, the theme of which is, of course, 'Burlesque'. How could it be anything else, this week in London? So as I write, the girls are in make-up, and the guys are testing out their new SLR triple magnification viewing spectacles, in preparation for the event. Yes, l know the X Factor got it wrong, but can Dairy UK get it right?  It might all rest on the final discussions between the Queen Bee and Fiona as to which one plays Christine Aguilera and which one plays Cher. I suppose it's that old master versus pupil thing, but what the hell? I mean which of us can honestly say we have nothing more to learn? Ho ho ho, here we go again!

Friday 10th December 2010

My eyes are dim I cannot see. I have not brought my specs with me. Yes, there but for the grace of God go any of us. And this week, I'm going to give you some good examples. This song is of course the annual rallying call when the glitterati of the dairy industry join up with the Chelsea Pensioners at the Royal Hospital in a lustful chorus of celebration of the virtues of British Cheese. The event is the hottest ticket in town, and everybody goes. Except that is for the cheese industry themselves, who I assume are too busy cutting and parcelling for the Yuletide festivities to attend.

Never mind, the rest of us wallowed in the pomp and heraldry of this great occasion on their behalf. This year, the guests had to battle through the formidable challenges of snow, storm and South West Trains to get there. But they achieved this with military precision befitting the fortitude of the Pensioners themselves in their heydays. It was so cold, that I even saw Emma from Tesco with her hands in her own pockets!

In her address to the assembly, the Queen Bee waxed lyrically in poetic splendour, brazenly and without as much as a by your leave, changing the sexual orientation of cheese from masculine to feminine. "We shall evermore refer to the 'Queen of Cheeses'" she announced, with such Orwellian authority that a re-writing of the textbooks will now surely follow. "Le" fromage will now become "La", and the French will just have to get used to it.

At the ensuing lunch, I had the great privilege of sitting beside Lord Walker, the ex Chief of Staff of the British armed forces. What an honour for both of us. I was able to regale him with my intimate knowledge and analysis of British military history over the last 40 years. And I'm sure I saw him take notes. Yes, I admit, that this knowledge was picked up in discussions in the Horse Shoe Bar in Glasgow. And yes, the battles discussed there were different from those which exercised the strategic acumen of Lord Walker. However, I find that the principles of military engagement are easily transportable from the microscuffle to the big picture. Dodging a flying lager glass is no different from dodging an Exocet missile, really. It's simply a matter of degree.

Given the time of year, there were unsurprisingly a few red nosed reindeers on my train home. One man said to me "I'm going to divorce my wife. She hasn't spoken to me for two months". "Be a bit careful," I replied. "Women like that are hard to find". But the red nosed reindeers who can now justifiably put their feet up for the holidays are the legions of Eurocrats who have been devising a Christmas pantomime in the High Level Experts Group in Brussels. These well meaning actors, have now had their efforts rubber stamped by the EU College of Commissioners. But they are now realising that in drafting their proposals, they forgot the first rule of pantomime....watch what's coming behind you. So, their early ideas for controlling markets by replacing the regulation of the CAP with other means have been largely unpicked by the professionals in DG Competition. A more workable package has now emanated, which I suspect will please most EU dairy farmers, all to a man envious of the supply chain arrangements which already apply in the UK.

Of course the panto has still to be performed in public, and the question which every non-dairy farmer in Europe will now be asking is why is this being done for milk and not for us? We deal with supermarkets too. This aspect will also, I'm sure, not have gone unnoticed by the national competition authorities who have now been brought in to adjudicate on the scale of any new producer organisation. Any extension to other sectors starts to question the whole ethos of competition law EU wide... competition laws on which a whole plethora of markets and mergers have been irrevocably based.

Finally, good luck with the Christmas shopping this weekend. I'm trying to persuade the "boss" that we should each put £500 in an envelope and swap envelopes. Each of us can then take pleasure in the generosity of our offerings and be equally delighted at having received such a generous gift. I'm not going to push it though for fear of ending up as the fairy on the top of our Christmas tree. Perhaps one of you could try it out first, eh? Onward Christian soldiers.

Friday 3rd December 2010

Innovative Good King Wenceslas snow stories abound this week. My cunning stunt award goes to the Great Alexander. Anxious to avoid call offs from his Loch Lomond hooley for shop keepers, he was sending out "look it's fine" pictures of the venue, Cameron House, obviously taken when the sun was out. Yes, a noble effort without question, but he could have photoshopped out the daffodils growing in the foreground of the picture first.

Then there's the intrepid Fergus the Green, I've been laying off him in this column recently because the poor lad has been in hospital for an unpleasant op. So, where has our precocious pimpernel chosen to pursue his recuperation this week? Yes, you're right, Gdansk. Sultry Gdansk, where my iphone tells me it's minus ten degrees centigrade at the moment. Travel broadens the mind for sure but the question is, will the lad's new firsthand knowledge of the physiology of the brass monkey develop him, or cut him off in his prime?

As you know, it's hard for me to get my eyes open any wider than they already are. However, I was privileged this week to witness a "Road to Damascus" awakening at a meeting of friends in the Palace of Westminster. The chair of the meeting had imposed Chatham House rules of discipline, so I have to be a bit circumspect, but at the same time he mischievously operated Marquis of Queensbury rules of procedure. So the gloves were off. There were loads of big bejeesus farmers there - real top drawer puff candies. And they had appeared to come to the collective view that the large scale farm issue was a problem of consumer misunderstanding. The Chair described it as a "tyranny of ignorance", bless him. Then someone from the supply chain much closer to the consumer than any of us insiders, hesitantly ventured a view "why don't you present it to consumers in terms of how they will benefit and not how you in the industry will benefit" she proffered hopefully. I swear that suddenly, shafts of sunlight flooded across the room. There was a cacophony as foil wrapped chocolate pennies dropped everywhere. I could see the fairy at the top of the Christmas tree ring out a rapturous round of applause. Yes, the true joy of understanding totally enveloped the atmosphere. Then suddenly in a flash, day turned back into night when someone asked "and who's going to pay for that then?" Whether it was the grandeur of the surroundings, or the history of the location I don't know, but at this point I fully expected a white knight on a proud stallion to charge into the room and say "I am Sir Lancelot of DairyCo. This is the kind of thing that I exist for, I will pay for this ...... happily". Of course I was disappointed. Only the powerful sound of silence prevailed. But for how much longer, I wonder?

Finally, alas England's bid for the World Cup failed. It is a small consolation to me that I stripped a tenner off Fergus the Green when the Ruskeys made it first past the post. It's a shame because I like seeing foreign football fans stroll around London. I'm one myself after all. We had some in town for the Champions League this week. I didn't recognise their scarves, so I edged in closer to see if I could identify them from the language they were speaking. But it was absolutely hopeless. I had no idea. Turned out they were from Cardiff. Yes, that's why I love London, a truly cosmopolitan city.

Friday 26th November 2010

I've always liked hollandaise sauce. I had lots of it recently in New Zealand. My sister makes a fantastic hollandaise sauce. So when I saw her this week, I asked her how she does it. "It's easy", she said. "You find your car keys in your handbag (that's the hard part). Then you drive down to Marks and Spencer, and its there, in the chilled cabinet, waiting for you". Yip, life is not always what it seems.

I've taken a bit of harsh, undeserved flak in the media this week. One headline screamed "Begg is behind the times". Oh yeah? Well, as everyone knows, there's no such thing as bad publicity, and so it has again proved. I've been inundated with messages that say "it's not you who's behind the times, Jim…..!" So the battle to convey the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth goes on. The next opportunity is the House of Lords next week, where I'll be addressing some of the country's big dairy farmers, plus a prestigious collection of other big cheeses who have an interest in our future welfare. I'm required to provide a comprehensive summary of the trends, issues, problems and solutions for the future of the world dairy industry in approximately 7 minutes. I can do this. It'll be pimps. I mean, what can't you do in 7 minutes? I do this all the time. I have a 7 minute version, a 15 minute version, a 30 minute version, and a one hour Pointer Sisters version for slow hands. For some, I could talk for a lifetime, and they still wouldn't get it. You know who they are.

However, all in all, it's been a good week media wise for Dairy UK. The Pieman is definitely starting to make an impact. Personally, I've spent most of the week being ignored. I know it's hard to believe, but this can happen. I've been chasing this and that for meetings and responses and just getting nowhere. "Oh yes, we'll get back to you, soon", and "Oh my diary will be clear by 6th December, and I might have time for you then". I mean it's not as though I'm seeking meetings with Paolo Nuttini, or Walter Smith or anyone. I think it must be Christmas. It couldn't be that people are avoiding me, could it?

Fortunately, one man who didn't avoid me was a man in the FSA press office late last night, when I rang to query their inexplicable press release on clones and their progeny. "Woops", he said, "there's a typo. We'll correct that." Good move for him and me both. And I think better news for the dairy industry as we take a step forward to resolving the difficult issue of milk from the progeny of clones entering the food chain. The consumer will have the final say on all of this of course, but at least the FSA is moving astutely to regularise the legal situation with the rest of the EU, and to provide much more clarity about what can and can't be done for farmers, processors and consumers. There are still issues to resolve over the treatment of clones relative to the progeny of clones, but the prospect of clear guidelines on procedures from the FSA soon, has moved a step closer.

Finally, the quote of the week is from Ed Garner from Kantor at a Chartered Institute of Marketing meeting in London last night. Ed is reknowned in the food industry for his ability to present at least 150 slides of numbers in about 15 minutes. His style is melifluously poetic, which both informs and entertains. He was commenting on the low uptake of fruit and vegetables in Scotland. He said that most Scots favoured fast foods. Why? Because given the state of their livers, fast foods offered the best chance of them not missing dinner. Ouch! You sometimes have to be cruel to be kind!

Friday 19th November 2010

I'm on my way from misery to happiness today, quoth the genius of The Proclaimers. Uhuh! Regrettably, I'm not there yet. Night after sleepness night has ravaged the senses after my 34 hour return trip from Auckland. I'm writing this at 3.16am. I've abandoned trying to sleep because my bedside clock has moved forward only 12 minutes in the last 4 hours.

There's a howling gale outside. Can it be only 3 weeks since I was in the sultry heat of Limpopo on a game reserve? There was a rhinoceros 10 yards away and the game warden was explaining how smugglers would cut off the rhino horns, and grind them down for sale as an aphrodisiac. The "boss" had looked quizzically at me and said "Hmm. You've always relied on Tennents".

This lingering insomnia has forced me to think about things for nearly 24 hours a day, and at the moment I'm thinking about Peter Kendall. Now I know it's a worry for both of us that I should be thinking about Peter Kendall at 3.16am, but I'm trying to put my finger on what's really troubling Britain's dairy farmers at present. Things should be good. Prices are rising. Production is rising. The media is reporting investments on farm of £50million. But somehow the confidence, so apparent in the spring, would appear to have evaporated. There is genuine angst, and I know it's genuine because Dairy UK's Farmers Forum has told me so.

I had watched Peter Kendall recount the woes at a meeting early in the week. By common acclaim, this is a towering giant of a man. But sometimes the mask slips. He was recounting a meeting he'd had with Fonterra chairman Henry van der Heyden, when suddenly he slipped into a reverie. Pausing for a second, his face took on a dreamy expression, and you could almost read his mind..."Take me to New Zealand" he was thinking, "where I can produce milk for next to nothing; where the Government and the competition authorities would work for me; where I would own all the farms and all the processors; where I could spend all day making whole milk powder to make the Chinese big and strong; and where I could make lots and lots of money – maybe even be as rich as DairyCo".  Suddenly, like Joe Egg, Peter woke up and looked around. In front of him were supermarkets, competing customers, Government officials, and worst of all......me. Heaven to hell in the blink of an eyelid!

I think that what our farmers are now describing as a dysfunctional market is in fact the new free market, and many of them, particularly the forward looking efficient ones, are disappointed with it. In a normal free market, the efficient guys go to the top and are rewarded for it. The inefficient guys change or go out. In our new free market, the "top" are the retailer supply pools, and the farmers perceive that it's not your efficiency that gets you there, it's your luck or your location. Many of the good guys, the ones who encouraged the free market in the first place, are facing commodity returns, and a widening price gap. They are also suspicious that their price is being compromised to maintain the liquid "elite". And if they don't see their milk price react instantly to improving commodity market returns, frustration turns quickly to rebellion, especially once the feed bill comes in. This discontent then reaches the "lucky" guys with the liquid contracts, because if the commodity milk price doesn't move, then neither will theirs.

It must appear to the farmers like a vicious circle. However, milk prices in a free market don't move exactly in line with market movements. They never have. There are always lags. But over time the statistics prove that it always sorts itself out. And a wholesale shift from retail markets to far away commodity markets, as many are now suggesting, is not the answer, although many of the farmers I've met this week will take some convincing of that.

Yesterday I was in Edinburgh sharing a platform with NFUS Vice President Alan Bowie at the Dairy Summit convened by the Scottish cabinet secretary Richard Lochhead. I spoke about the next 10 years. Alan spoke passionately only about the coming winter. Despite rising prices and rising production, it looks like it will be a winter of discontent. The cat now nestling beside me agrees, but I'm getting a strong vibe from her to shove off. I'm on her patch. The gloom of the night is where she feels comfortable. All I can think of is "move over mate. Is there room in there for two?"

Friday 12th November 2010

More than 2200 people are attending the IDF's World Dairy Summit in Auckland this week, each one with a story to tell. I've discovered that there are more dairy cows in New Zealand than people. Also, incredibly, that 1 in 7 of the world's population lives on a dairy farm. And even more incredible, margarine was only invented because Napoleon couldn't afford the price of butter to feed his army.

The 2200 people exclude the army of security staff, hired at massive expense, to subdue the animal rights protestors outside the sessions. There have been only 6 of them at most. I asked one of the security guys if he could cope. "Sure," he said. "We just wrap them up in their banners, and stack them like logs in a truck".

The Brits here have had difficulty coping with the upside down life in the Southern Hemisphere. The Queen Bee's influential presentation went much smoother once she'd worked out which end of the doofer to point at the screen, so that she could move forward and not back. I asked a penetrating and insightful question at another session, unfortunately by speaking into the wrong end of the microphone. My target on the platform looked at me with one of those expressions which suggests that you work in finance....as a banker! And poor Tim Bennett was denied entry to one of the economics conferences which I was chairing, because, unlike all the other economists, he'd omitted to bring his crystal ball. It's his own fault really. I'd warned him in advance. But it turns out he didn't have it with him. They'd needed it at the AHDB.

Tim was one of around 50 I'm told who couldn't get in because the room was stuffed full of disciples anxious to learn about the future. That left me as the only Brit in the hall. In the position of Mercury, with the onerous responsibility of winging back the messages from the gods of markets and profits to the British dairy industry. Or so I thought, until from the platform I spied a Raymond. I'm not sure which Raymond it was. I can't tell the difference even when I'm shaking their hands. But, a Raymond there definitely was. Sitting in a room. With me.  On the other side of the world. In the company of processors, retailers, and farmers from all points east and west. Each totally respectful of the other's position. Each showing respect and consideration, and all of us, collectively, anxious to find the best way to generate more wealth in future for fair and equitable distribution along the supply chain. No name calling, no finger pointing, and no divisive commentary.  That's the right way isn't it? It's certainly my way, because all of us have a single purpose.

Look, the unity of view from everyone here is that the demand prospects in our industry are bright. Massively bright. There are issues around supply, mostly linked to uncertainty about feed and energy prices. So, based on that, the rest is easy for companies. You just have to choose where to site your factory, and what markets to be in. What could be simpler? Do you prefer dealing with supermarkets in the EU or food processors in Asia? Where will you create the most wealth? Most people think our future depends on China and India. Will they need product from the West? Both countries say no. I agree with the Indians, not so the Chinese. But perhaps a more relevant driver of per capita dairy consumption in future is the rate at which the global population moves out of poverty. Take China again as an example. They consume 3kg of dairy products per head when they live in the countryside. This increases to 29kg per head when they move to the cities. No brainer, eh? My extreme view is that all the marketing budgets in the world should be given over to persuading the Chinese to eat cheese.

There were 700 people registered for the nutrition sessions here. That tells you something, doesn't it? I went over to the nutrition theatre and locked the doors, telling them they couldn't get out until they'd found answers to the growing number of consumers and legislators who are increasingly asking –'prove it'.  This may have meant a few empty seats at the glittering gala dinner, but it would have been a tad unfair, because it's not their fault. They are being starved of resources to create the necessary science in the new way the regulators want. That's where the industry resource must be focussed now, and less so in sustainability where we are manifestly getting things right. Because, in the words of the great Scottish prophet Lonnie Donegan, " I can see the train a' comin".

Finally, my reflective highlight of the week - the aforesaid glittering gala dinner. For a start, we at last had the dramatic Maori dances performed by guys in All Blacks jerseys which made me feel more at home. But at my dinner table I had the pleasure of the company of the chief economist of the US Department of Agriculture, Joe Glauber. We looked across the table at the world's number one free market thinker (Andrew Ferrier) sitting next to a pillar of the Canadian dairy industry, the  most protected market in the world (Richard Doyle). Strangely, both are Canadians. Richard's system delivers a higher milk price to farmers than Andrew's, but at the same time, it paralyses growth. As we got into the debate, I reflected that this game is long term. If we are going to exploit our true growth potential, feed the world and be sustainable and profitable, the free market route is the only game in town!

Friday 5th November 2010

Well, the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone and regrettably, I'll be on it. This is a truly inspirational country. People in bars ask you if you follow the teachings of the Dalai Lama. I say "No, I'm an Alex Ferguson man myself". When I'm in the UK, my good friend and local guru, George, always tells me that it's another magnificent day in Paradise. I always think that it's just as well they've got good weather, because they no longer have a cricket team. But I discover again that he's easily pleased. The rain has been cascading down, generating a plethora of limp fascinators as the women of Sydney glammed up for the Melbourne Cup. Unfortunately, on racing day, I was unable to avoid a heated discussion amongst the fillies in our party over whether Sydney men glam up better than Sydney women. One comment from the cattery was that Melbourne girls dress up for Ascot, while Sydney girls dress up for Aintree. Whoah, ladies. Slow down. You might need these fingernails later if someone's back needs scratching!

The Queen Bee is here, but she's been controversial by rejecting the offer of a whole day in a soggy, heaving bar watching horse racing in the company in some of the world's leading dairy raconteurs. She chose instead to go and stroke a Koala Bear. Now, those of us who've done this in the past, know that this is an experience broadly similar to kissing a Brillo pad. But what can you do?  I guess that some things you just have to find out for yourself.
I'm in a party of assorted UK CEOs and Chairmen and the like. All of us totally managed men, who left to our own devices couldn't organise a children's tea party. So, fortunately, we have with us the indefatigable Karen, Dairy Co's own Duracell bunny. She is a veritable Cat in The Hat. No hurdle in the world is high enough to defeat the Cat. Last night, whilst exiting a quayside restaurant, the high powered executives had to organise a Board meeting to decide which of the panels of a glass wall was, in fact, the door. The Cat swiftly left the building by a window, and walked across the water to reach the bar first. Her political astuteness is out of a training manual. She rapidly and seamlessly altered her description of the following day's farm visits from a "gallivant" to "an important study tour" when she realised that the Dairy Co Chairman was within earshot. The theory is that it's Karen who is supposed to be learning lessons from the big cheeses. In fact, it's totally the other way round.

The main point of discussion in the Australian dairy industry this week has been the front page news that the wife of the CEO of the Murray Goldburn co-op has been employed for 12 years providing "support" services to her husband. The sums of money involved are jaw dropping.  Strangely, I find opinion on the subject divided. The "boss" has had a look at the alleged support services provided, and has decided to submit an invoice to Dairy UK. She's also looking for back money. Undoubtedly, if the Aussie development goes unchallenged, so will every wife of every executive in Australia. Not so happy are the co-op's farmer suppliers who last year suffered a 29% reduction in their milk price. But in the bar in Flemington in between races, the limp fascinators are beginning to stand to attention. This shows the real value of a devoted wife to an executive's business, they say. It's absolutely right that this is recognised and rewarded. Hmm, of course we all agree with that don't we? Talk to the missus about this later on tonight, lads.

It's always a wrench leaving Australia and the hospitality at Chateau Davey. I can only scratch the surface on a short trip, but it looks to me that the dairy industry is in excellent shape for the future. That is as long as the rain continues to fall, and they work hard at getting much more money out the liquid market to share down the supply chain. And, of course, that they keep the great Mr Hollindale, farmer king of Queensland, intimately involved. As the "boss" says, "he always knows the right thing to do, at exactly the right time". In my view, he should be manager of Rangers.   But onward we must go. I'll soon be in Auckland for the IDF's World Dairy Summit. But for now I'm writing this piece in a cafe overlooking a replica of Captain Cook's Endeavour in Sydney's Darling Harbour. Captain Cook was a great English adventurer, but any local here will tell you that putting down anchor at Botany Bay was a mistake. He should have carried on to where his replica ship is berthed now. I'm reflecting on whether we should finish the job and take The Endeavour to New Zealand. With the Queen Bee, the "boss" and the Dairy Co chairman on the oars, the Cat in The Hat in the crow's nest, and me as Captain MacCook steering the ship, I think it's just possible. Ok, ok, the "boss" can have a shot at steering........ as long as she doesn't want paying.

Friday 29th October 2010

I'm still in South Africa. The boss wasn't over impressed by Table Mountain. More like a coffee table, she said. She's into boulders, you see. In a geomorphological sense. She's found a place in the Western Cape that's got big bejeezus boulders all over the place. The added bonus is that they're covered in penguins. Now I'm not averse to looking at a rock or two myself, but the fact that the penguins like them, demonstrates to me that boulders are strictly for the birds.

It's been a constant struggle with the boss for control of the camera. She wants to take pictures of wild life, mountains, and flowers. I want to snap football stadiums and pie shop menus. I've explained to her that a basic understanding of economics, and in particular inflation, comes from knowing at all times the price of a pie. She just says pass me another daiquiri.

When I first came to South Africa in 1996 I found fear and despondency amongst British residents. Apartheid was just being dismantled and they were scared. Moreover, the massive deflation of the rand meant that they were trapped there, because they couldn't afford a house back home. Now there is a freedom of spirit. The rand is strengthening powerfully, and they've just got on with the rest. For me, however, it's still the place in the world which I've been to where the wealth gap between the rich and the poor is the most humiliating. Yet there are constant reminders of the cultural differences with home. The most painful I saw was two signs next to each other. One said "Whale Watching Point. Take Care on the Rocks" The other said "Brit Pub – Big Screen TV".

Although this is a private visit, it has been hugely shaped and influenced by the great Lion King Bertus, head of the South African dairy farmers. In fact I'm writing this piece in his office in Pretoria.  He and I have much in common, in that it is in the nature of our jobs to be targets. Both of us have scars where the arrows have glanced off the sides. But fortunately, so far, there have been no direct hits. Bertus has a consummate skill in being able to answer every question, clearly and unambiguously, with a simple change of facial expression. I asked him five questions straight, then relayed back to him exactly what he'd told me. He hadn't spoken a word.

On dairy, the most significant thing to report is that the issues are almost exactly the same as in the UK. It's simply a matter of degree.  It's worse here because the milk price is down almost 30%, which is a worry in a market which is 60% fresh products and 90% domestic sales. Strangely for a country bereft of water, there is an oversupply of milk at the moment. That could be the source of the problem, but Bertus is a media star drumming up the unfairness of the distribution along the supply chain.  The other problem they have is their peak to trough ratio. It's badly out of kilter for the market. Bertus taught me a new word. It's "Volatiliteit". It's Afrikaans for volatility. New world or old, the problems which lie ahead are the same for us all.

Tomorrow (Saturday), I'm holding court in the Mercantile Hotel bar in George St in Sydney. So to the many Australian readers of this column, come along for a schooner. I'll see if I can get George to pay for them. And Jo, please order in more bananas for the smoothies. We're on our way.

Friday 22nd October 2010

It's late in the evening. I'm sitting in Terminal 5 facing an 11 hour long haul flight. I'm watching a Japanese lady snapping everything with a camera. What do the Japanese do with all the pictures they take? Do they look at them? Do they make calendars for Christmas? October in Terminal 5 London. November in Terminal 2 Changi. Maybe it's simply the pleasure of the click that satisfies them.

Mentally, I've allocated the whole of the forthcoming journey to unravelling the mysterious philosophical dilemmas which have been thrust on the dairy industry this week. First from Rafa: "we have a saying in Spain. If we see a white liquid in a bottle we assume its milk." Deep. Then Sir Alex: "if you see a cow in a field, it always looks better than the cow in your field. But life's never like that". Even deeper. I feel that if I can break these codes, I will have the key to the future of the dairy industry.

I consider consulting the Japanese lady, but her husband has started to grunt loudly and do press ups and squat thrusts. I reflect on whether he is a Board member of the FSA.

Without doubt, the world has gone truly mad this week, and I'm happy to join in. Yes, I predict that Wayne will be a Rangers player by Burns night. I predict that Gordon Strachan will be appointed manager elect of the England football team. And I predict that the French government will persuade the European Commission to retain milk quotas.

More madness prevailed on Wednesday at Dairy UK's cheese reception at the House of Commons. I've long since known that the way to win the hearts and minds of British members of Parliament is to give them free cheese. As I stood at the door to meet and greet, hordes of them trampled over me screaming "we'll do anything you say Jim, just give us the free cheese". The poor guys were hyper. They'd been in the chamber listening to the Chancellor's Spending Review. So after cutting jobs and services in the afternoon, they were ready to cut the cheese in the evening.

I spotted Mary Quicke in the corner. I went over to give her a welcoming kiss. But I forgot that with my glasses at the end of my nose, I can't seem to kiss anyone else wearing glasses. On this occasion, Mary was as hapless as me. As we edged towards a connection, we completely missed each other. Instead of kissing Mary, I almost kissed the honourable member for Saxton East.

This annual event, the brainchild of Dan Rogerson MP, chair of the All Party Parliamentary Group for cheese, is a truly wonderful celebration of British cheeses. We used the event to highlight our campaign for mandatory country of origin labelling of cheese. We want mandatory, because voluntary doesn't appear to work. Earlier in the day, I'd done a radio interview on the subject. I was asked who I thought was abusing the existing voluntary system. But I wouldn't name names. I have far too much respect for the Irish, Dutch, French and Germans to do that. I was asked if I thought it would be difficult to secure a legislative solution. Yes, I said, because turkeys don't vote for Christmas. Dairy UK virtually never seeks legislative solutions to issues. This is an exception. We consume around 700,000 tonnes of cheese each year in the UK. Around 400,000 tonnes of that is imported. We know that UK consumers relish the provenance of local products. We want to give them the full opportunity to do that.

I'm now in Africa. In a couple of hours I'll be riding the wildebeests bare back at the foot of the Drakensburg mountains. In the baggage hall I spot the Japanese lady taking pictures. Suddenly, she approaches me. "Hah so, Jeem" she said. "Gleen cheese in sky not sun but moon. Gleen cheese turn led befo Wayne play faw Rangers". Yes, this week the truly has gone mad. [Editors note: Jim wrote his blog before the news broke that Rooney had re-signed for Manchester United, which raises the question as to just who Jim's fellow passenger was and how she has such good inside information in the transfer market!]

Friday 15th October 2010

"You can speak about anything you like", was the advice to me from the Chair of a farming conference I was addressing in Preston this week. OK, I thought, I'll give them forty minutes on sex and football. Then I realised that I didn't know enough about either to speak for that length of time. But I do know where Montenegro is in the world. And I did know that the Montenegran team at Wembley the previous evening was short of four regulars. What'll it be like when England face the full Monte, I wondered?

I learned lots of things at the conference. But I'm a man who always believes the last person who speaks. So they could have been telling me anything. Is it right, for example, that farmers with lots of children use their own wives to judge their policy on calving intervals for the cows on their farms? "Bull the cows at 40 days", said one farmer confidently. I grimaced, believing every word. My farmer friend continued that he'd started at nineteen and learned everything he knew from his father. Initially there had been disputes, he said, but by the time he was twenty five, it was amazing how much his father had matured!

I was speaking second, always the best place to be. You can use the first speaker as a foil, then you can get your pea shooter out early. There were some bankers there telling jokes. One said that profit was not the main driver of agricultural investment. He said it seriously, but it must have been a joke. Wasn't it? I've never heard a farmer apologising to his banker for making a profit. Sorry, your honour it was a mistake. It won't happen again. Well, make sure it doesn't, or you'll have to take your account elsewhere. Nope, that was definitely a wind up. Or else the banker must have attended the Craig Levein School of Forward Thinking.

But the banker and the farmer, and all the other conference speakers, talked about nothing other than expansion. Everyone was looking forward to growing their businesses by seeking out opportunities and exploiting them (the farmer in co-operative partnership with a dairy company). We are unquestionably in an era of optimism, and it's fantastic. The collaborative supply chain approach is definitely working. I thoroughly recommend it to the French, where I'm told the occupation of the dairy trade association by rioting farmers is still continuing.

After the conference, I headed off North to find more examples of confidence. I reached the edge of the world, or Barrow in Furness as the locals call it. My appointment was with Les, Hot Shot Bottled Milk Buyer. Les took me out to show me the wonderful countryside, and in glorious sunshine we stopped and gazed over Peel Island. Then the wind ups started. Peel Island has five houses, a pub and a castle. According to Les, it also has a king recognised by the sovereign authority, who doubles as the landlord of the pub. As a simple trusting lad, I took all this in until I asked Les what kind of beer the King of Peel served in his pub. "Oh, only orange juice", he said!

More wind ups continued as I learned all about foam parties, and all night discos in the Blue Lagoon, a ship moored in the harbour at Barrow. But of course the serious messages were progressively becoming clear to me. In all, I met three Dairy UK members operating in the BMB sector in and around Barrow. All of them were investing significantly in expanding their businesses in what is an extremely competitive sector. More proof that we are in an era of optimism. The supply chain collaborative approach is working.

Friday 8th October 2010

I've been getting up close and personal with the royals this week. Me and doubtless many others who had the privilege of attending two great celebrations of farming excellence; first at the Bath and West, then later in the week at the glittering-eleven quid for a gin and tonic-Grosvenor for the Farmers Weekly awards. Yes, Charlie is my darling in the song, but on video at the Grosvenor, the message from The Prince of Wales was keep farming in a museum. "To talk about farms as units was the language of the factory", quoth the young chevalier. "Agriculture is not a production line. It should never be described as an industry", he added. Whoah, there, Charlie. No one doubts your conviction, but life moves on.

Peter Kendall, clearly affected by Charles' video presence came over to my table, and kneeled down in front of Tim Bennett, his predecessor as NFU head honcho. Hootsmon! There were gasps of surprise from those in attendance. If Tim had had a sword, I'm sure he would have tried to knight him. I thought of offering him my skhi-n-duh, but I thought it might have been misconstrued. I was in enough trouble already for having had a five minute conversation with an old adversary before realizing that I was in fact talking to a life size cardboard cut out of him. I'd wondered why it had been so constructive. I'd been persuading him to go green. I'm sure the reply had been not while I'm in the red.

Contrast the comments of Charles with those of his sister in law The Countess of Wessex in the flesh at the Bath and West dinner. Pragmatic, sympathetic, positive and optimistic was how I'd describe her keynote speech. She talked understandingly about "larger units" and said the challenge for the "industry" was to combine industrial production with a "darling buds of May image". A nice "wummin" all round. Knowledgeable, informed and a genuinely interested contributor.

The angst of the week came of course with the annual Dairy Co margin report. It was greeted as ever with howls of injustice from the farming unions as once again the report suggested that farmers had lost out in their share of the retail price of liquid milk. All commentators again heaped piles of invective on the supermarkets. The following will therefore be an unpalatable message to these commentators. The criticism of supermarkets in this context is in reality a criticism of a liberalized market place. Hard though it is to accept, the factors which influence the farm gate price of milk (almost exclusively demand and supply) are completely different from those which influence retail prices of milk. There are a number of stages at which value is added to milk such that farm gate and retail prices are almost completely delinked. There is therefore no necessary reason why any change in one should trigger a change in the other. It's the simple law of economics. It is of course absolutely fair for farmers to criticize their absolute level of price relative to their costs, but that's got nothing to do with share of the retail price. The Dairy Co margins report is a hook for eloquent protest, but it is nothing more than the expression of a free market working as markets do.

Finally thanks to those of you who felt moved to help me cover my embarrassment, being tieless when unexpectedly receiving an award this week from the Countess of Wessex. I have now received a number of ties at least two of which go back to the 70s. If I wore these I'd become even more stylistically dysfunctional. It was nice, however to be fondly re-acquainted with the kipper!

Friday 1st October 2010

With the continuing absence of my wife on family business elsewhere in the UK, I've discovered a new stream of creativity in the kitchen. So, dishes now successfully added to my culinary repertoire include the Scotch Pie Omelette, Pakora in a Tempura Batter, and the healthy Tomato and Stornoway Black Pudding yogurt.

I'm having nutritional profiles for these new dishes constructed by the Dairy Council, but I'm not sure whether any of them will qualify for green, amber or red traffic lights. So I'm provisionally categorising them as blue, because I think they're all winners.

Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah. Three cheers for National Disinformation Week. We've just had it, and this year it's been better than ever. It always co-incides with the party political conference season, and, yes, there have been some wonderful entries from Blackpool and Manchester. But this year, for the first time ever, the gold medal goes to the food industry.

Close, but no cigar, was the Women's Food and Farming Union, with a meeting this week to promote the consumption of unpasteurized raw milk. At this meeting, the following information was presented by the proponents of raw milk to the audience as facts. "Pasteurised milk causes autism". "Raw milk cures boils and pimples", "most pasteurised milk in the UK comes from eastern Europe" and "high somatic cell counts in milk is good because it keeps the bacteria in raw milk alive, keeping in the goodness" I thought all this kind of stuff went out with the Salem witches, but no, it appears not.

"The gold medal goes to The Consumer's Association publisher of Which? magazine. They issued a press release this week with the strapline "Health Claims Rip Off is Set to Continue". This refers to a sensible Commission decision to try and bring some sanity into the health claims process. The release goes on "Consumers are being taken for a ride, needlessly paying a premium on the basis of health claims on food that have no scientific evidence to back them up".  It also talks about "bamboozling customers". The truth is very different. The dairy industry is not bamboozling anyone. We are tearing our hair out to get the legitimate science, which is tried and tested and has underpinned milk and dairy products consumption for years, recognised by EFSA. And we are working patiently to deliver that objective with EFSA, who themselves have been severely constrained by the approvals process laid down for them by the Commission. I can only assume that when the Consumers' Association made these all embracing comments, they couldn't have been talking about the dairy industry.

I'm back in the kitchen now penning this piece. I'm in serious trouble. One of my cats is injured and I'm trying to get her down to the vet. But after three gargantuan attempts to get her into the transporter, the score is 3-0 to the cat. She is not a happy pussy, I'm waiting for things to calm down. But I know for sure, that if I don't get this sorted out  before the boss returns, then it'll be me and not the cat who'll be mince. Now I wonder if I should try stroking her neck…..!

Friday 24th September 2010

The Englishman abroad is a truly wondrous phenomenon. Everywhere he goes, he takes a little piece of England with him. This week, some Dairy UK officials have fled from the tyranny of the desktop to fly the flag on the battlefields of the European Dairy Association annual ceilidh in the Netherlands. So, I've had the honour of watching real quality in action. But before I start, a poser: can you name any Dutch musician, anyone at all, ever? Think about it.

First to impress me was Eco Ed Komorowski. He was out stravegin the streets of Den Haag when he was caught in a sudden thunderstorm and had to jump on to a passing tram. He was momentarily embarrassed, because as everyone knows, Eco believes in the cashless society. However, quick as a flash, he put his hotel luggage ticket into the stamping machine, smiled at the conductor, and walked on. Yes, every pound's a prisoner, and we at Dairy UK wrote the book.

Later on, I was sitting in the EDA Board meeting, wrestling with the complexities of bureaucracy, when I heard rapturous applause coming from the meeting next door. It went on for donkeys' ages, and I began to wonder what Elle McPherson was doing in the Netherlands. It turns out that the applause was for none other than our own Malthusian Pete, and reflected the gratitude of the whole EU dairy industry for steering them through the work of the EU Council's High Level Expert Group. So pleased are they, that they've now appointed him to lead them through the development of their position on CAP Reform, and their judgement will not be misplaced.  Clearly on a roll, while receiving his accolade, Malthusian moved into new uncharted territory by smiling briefly. Moreover, this momentary abandonment of the stiff upper lip was recorded on camera. A rare event this, but the outcome was verging on art. Move over Churchill the dog. A new star is born.

Malthusian's leadership on the HLEG dossier is going to be vital in the next couple of months, because I'm in little doubt now that this is going to be the EU Commission's Christmas present to the dairy industry. Some say that the presents have already been chosen, all that's now being considered is the wrapping paper. But increasingly, as I listen to my European colleagues, and to the Commission, I believe that the English view is starting to prevail. So, if we're right in the belief that the Commission's real desire in all of this is to get the industry and not them to regulate the milk supply, then that's going to be tough. This is because supply is a function of price, and the EU is not an island in the global dairy market. At the very least a support system at the base of the EU market will be necessary, and that's what I expect to be on offer.

I also think that the complexities of changing EU competition law to accommodate producer organisations will become glaringly obvious, and ultimately defeat any desire to pursue this area. But where I feel the Commission can now win the political battle, for that is what it is, is on contracts. Not prescriptive ones, just contracts, across the EU, with every farmer in possession of one. In my view that would be fully justified and an open door if the Commission push hard.

So, a successful foray into foreign parts for the Dairy UK boys. But as I left Den Haag, I found myself chuckling at what, for me, was the quote of the Congress. It came from the EDA's Benedict Masure, who tried to breathe some life into the flailing multi-lateral trade agreement. "The WTO is not dead" she said, "but it's certainly not alive".

And of course the answer to the poser at the beginning of this piece is that there has only ever been one memorable Dutch musical act. They only ever had one hit, but it was a classic. They were called Pussycat (after me) and the hit was "Mississippi". Check it out now on YouTube, you won't be disappointed. ("Want to bet?" Ed.)

Friday 17th September 2010

I found myself stalking the Pope this week. Not deliberately, of course. It's just that all my meetings seemed to be next to where he was. I finally saw him in the flesh, climbing up the steps to his plane at Glasgow airport. I sent a text to my wife to tell her, but she absolutely refused to believe me. She's not been herself since last weekend, when a salesman in Boots inadvertently assumed that her sister was her daughter. I can understand that that must have been quite a shock. I consoled her with the suggestion that since they were standing at the Oil of Olay counter, it was probably a sales pitch. Yip, I certainly know when I need to be sensitive!

I've had a crisis of identity myself this week. First, a farmer assailed me for the defamatory stuff I write in my monthly column in "The Dairy Farmer". Eh? Do I look that much like Ian Potter? Then my old mate and President of my fan club, Derek Mead, called for my resignation as head of DairyCo in his piece in the Western Morning Post. Derek, the letter's in the post. Worst of all, in the otherwise excellent Dairyman feature of "The Grocer" magazine, my smiling visage appeared next to a quote that palpably was never me.  For goodness sake, Julia. we only met about a week ago. Couldn't you tell that I was a man? Finally I met a man in the Horse Shoe bar in Glasgow who asked me if I was in fact the Pope. Bless you, my son. But no!

The Horse Shoe bar in Glasgow is where I go to experience real life. And real life is what you get, in spades. One side of the bar is where all of Glasgow's criminal fraternity meets. On the other side, you'll find the cream of the city's legal profession. It's the only place I know where it takes less time to have an appointment with your lawyer than it does to go to the toilet. I'm there now, writing this piece.

Earlier today I was entertained and educated once again by the great Maitland Mackie, Laird of Aberdeenshire, at the Dairy UK Scotland Board meeting. Talking about cloning he said "scientifically, there is no difference whatsoever between a cloned cow and a potato.  It is exactly the same scientific principle. If they are going to ban milk and beef from clones, then they should do the same to potatoes, but they're several hundred years too late".  Hmm, I wondered. Perhaps the industry should explain the issue to consumers in these terms.

The previous day, meeting on Maitland's own patch in Aberdeen, the Food Standards Agency Board had gone against the advice of their own staff and declined to confirm that their existing policy on cloning (i.e. that the new Novel Foods Regulation should be the mandatory route to market for food from all descendents of clones), should prevail in the new legislation.  Bizarrely, in considering the advice they give to Ministers, they adopted no alternative policy for now.  So we're in limbo, albeit in an extremely difficult area.  You might ask what happens until they sort it out?  Can you, or can't you?  The current Novel Foods Regulation applies, with the FSA's current interpretation that this catches all descendents of clones, even if this is completely impractical to enforce. Ultimately, of course, the consumer will have the last word. But in the meantime, I hope no-one goes after a farmer or processor should they do anything in blissful ignorance, either because the law is unknown, or because the government has failed to police the law.

Friday 10th September 2010

The top dogs at the RABDF all turned into Cheshire cats at the NEC cow show this week. It's always dangerous to be convinced by your own arguments, but by talking to each other, and looking in mirrors, they were united in the view that the move up the A45 from Stoneleigh was a good one. Will we see the NFU and the AHDB now follow, I wonder?

My view is that the RABDF driven by the enterprise of CEO Nick Everington and the panache of Chairman David Cotton can be justly satisfied with their decision. And, with the resourceful John Alvis now on board as President, I, as a member am happy to say very well done.

But before anyone thinks I've gone completely soft, when the RABDF cabal get together for the post event analysis, I advise them to give some ear to the now impoverished standholders. They faced more 'extras' than could be delivered by the Pakistani cricket team. Yip, NEC was the name of the venue. It was also what they had to have to levy some of these charges.  £1100 for a wireless feed for two days for example. Stand catering to use only NEC staff to dole it out. £165 for a single electric socket, more than double the Stoneleigh price. And, jaw-droppingly, a bill of £36 in the hotel next door presented to the Queen Bee for a plate of soup, a cup of tea, and a cheese and tomato sandwich. Help ma boab. At these prices she could reasonably have expected to have kept the waiter. It must have been really tough for anyone who bought a round of drinks. I concluded that the NEC was a training ground for Ryanair. Great event, ouch on the wallet!

During the week, the Queen Bee and I took time out to address a large group of farmers from Ireland. There the Queen Bee encountered Joe from Cavan. Now Cavan men are not known for their generosity of spirit. Indeed, emigrating crows flying over the county are advised to take a packed lunch. But before the meeting I watched as Joe gave the Queen Bee a bearhug cuddle; then a slobbery big kiss, and then, finally, he asked her her name. I thought to myself that's the way they'd do it in Glasgow, except that they would probably not get round to asking her name!

The Dairy UK conference once again generated excitement and fervour as the seven veils were ritually and progressively peeled off to tantalisingly reveal the future of the dairy industry in the UK. I can forgive attendees who might have been overawed by the glitter of the occasion, and failed to take in any of the messages. For those in that situation, I've picked out three significant things that I heard. First, be aware of the likelihood that the CAP in future may be a policy that protects small farmers and public goods. In the UK, we want a policy that protects commercial farmers and food production. Second, farmers must fight like hell for the single farm payment. Remember, that in the UK, it accounts for getting on for 40% of the £62,000 average dairy farmer's annual profit. Thirdly, dairy processors post quota will move to wherever the milk supply is plentiful and efficient. We have to make sure that that is the UK. I see this as a real opportunity.

Finally, congratulations to Welshie from Defra. After seven attempts at the Milk Marketing Forum's 'drink the fastest pint of milk' stand, she finally beat my time. Not surprisingly, after seven pints, she had to be bounced out of the arena like a rubber ball. But I bear no grudges. She had joined Fergus the Green, the Queen Bee, and the Pieman as all demonstrating that they had bigger mouths than me. In a way, I found that quite comforting!

Friday 3rd September 2010

On arrival chez moi last night, the delightful aroma of a cloutie dumpling wafted towards me from the kitchen. In a Scottish household that can only mean one thing: there's a birthday in the house. My spirits sank when I remembered that it was, in fact, mine. The tradition of celebrating birthdays with a cloutie dumpling is one that I'm desperately keen to hang on to. There is after all no more competitive arena on earth than the family fight to ensure that the silver sixpence within, wrapped up in a piece of greaseproof paper, ends up in your slice.

I had been reminded of my birthday earlier in the week. I had been to the doctor, and the practice nurse had spotted my date of birth because it was the same as her own. She loudly proclaimed to me and to the rest of the waiting room that she was 50 and she was having a big party to celebrate. She said "she wanted to go out with a bang". Eh? What? "Go out…. at 50? What was she talking about?"  While I was waiting I'd been reading the new Dairy Council publication "Get Healthy, Feel Great" There's a chapter in there with the title "There's no magic age when puberty can knock on your bedroom door". Sometimes I feel that I'm still waiting for the knock. The nurse asked me what I was going to do. "Oh, when I reach 50, I'll probably do the same", I said.

The Dairy Event is now almost on us. I predict a record event, if the record numbers at our conference and dinner are anything to go by. The move from Stoneleigh to Birmingham is turning out to be a sound one, and that, I interpret, as a further sign of growing confidence. Late in the day, we have been fortunate to add a distinguished panel of journalists to our conference programme. They, hopefully, will tell us whether as an industry, we project the right image to the outside world. I anticipate that we might be in for a lecture or two, and I hope we're big enough to listen. Once again, the loquacious David Homer will be in control of the roving mike, so those of you in the audience will be asked for an opinion whether you have one or not. It's good to talk.

But, you know, it always helps to look on the positive side of the challenges that the industry faces. I attended a good meeting this week of communications people going over the media plans being prepared in anticipation of the next phase of public scrutiny on large scale dairy farming. I was, for once, in the unique position of being told that we had to be more positive and confident about what we're doing. As I listened, I thought how true that was. Our "difficulties" now seem to be coming from go-ahead farmers investing in the future of the industry. In the past it's been the lack of investment that's been the problem. The issue of reconciling these investments with consumer acceptability still remains, but, for sure, it's a much better problem to have.

Finally, I can now hear again. I haven't been able to hear a thing for three months. I've simply nodded politely to everything anyone has said to me, but in truth, it's all gone over my head. This, of course, has been both a blessing and a curse. But, now the National Health Service has cured me, and it's good to be back. I wonder if anyone else will notice a difference!

Friday 27th August 2010

No Bank Holiday stampede at my station this morning. Yes, the platform was as busy as the Rangers' end, but only because we were all crammed under the small canopy to keep out of the pouring rain. The man next to me was trachled because he couldn't find his wife. I never have that problem. If I can't find my wife, I just go the first shop with a sale sign in the window and stand by the till until she appears.

This has been unquestionably the longest week of the year. Everyone has been subdued by the weather. Prickly is perhaps a better word, but certainly not by the heat. Except me, of course. I've been embroiled in another discussion with The Great Alexander about his spelling. He tells me he went to a good school, so good it was approved. But I see no evidence of it in his emails. He's been in Dubai this week, which I suppose is the right place for someone called Sandy.  Alas, I fear that the camels have been kicking too much sand into his Blackberry. I have been forced to recount to him the exchange between two kids in a Belfast classroom. "How do you spell psycho?" says one. "S-E-I-K-O," groaned the other, "the same as the **** watch, you numbskull!

At HQ, we've been preparing for the Dairy Event, and of course for the 2010 edition of the greatest show on earth – the Dairy UK Annual Conference and Dinner. This will be the first grassless Dairy Event, with 100% housed attendees. Perhaps that's a sign of the times. We're not complaining, our numbers for the conference and dinner are at record levels. And that's good because large scale is clearly cool. And of course it just goes to show, that it's not the scale of things that counts, it's the quality of the management.

Of course if cloning was legal, we could have doubled our attendance instantly, with all the extras thinking exactly the same way as the prototype. Who would your prototype be, eh? Cloning will undoubtedly feature extensively in the debates at our conference, and at the Dairy Event. I have a feeling I know how that debate is going to go, because as I write this piece, my desk is littered with letters citing massively diverse views on the subject. Some of them, many of you have seen, so you know what's coming. For a complex subject, it's remarkably simple. Whether clones or their progeny require legal approval or not, the real issue is consumer acceptability. If the industry's customers don't want the products, and that is the position at the moment, that's the end of it until they do. We are a consumer led industry, and that's the driving influence. We'll see who agrees with me at the conference.

The end of week brought some sobering reality. Some of my colleagues and friends in Glasgow have been spared the pain of their football team having to participate further in the Euromickey Cup. So the challenge of having to work out travel schedules to future opponents with names from the menu of a late night kebab house has now been mercifully avoided. However, every cloud has a silver lining. Rangers against Manchester United is an alluring prospect, especially for the soft southerners. Battle of Britain, eh? Toffee, I say.

Friday 20th August 2010

Henry Winter, football correspondent of The Daily Telegraph surpassed himself poetically this week. He described Ryan Giggs' performance for Manchester United as 'nutmegging Old Father Time'. Beautiful, I thought. I try to do it every day myself.

If you're like me, you always read the sports section of your morning paper first. Then the cartoons, then the crossword. When you get back in the evening, your wife tells you, at length, what was in the rest of it. But on the day of the Henry Winter quote my train got held up by a stray panther at Clapham Junction. So I read on…even reaching the science section. There I found the headline 'The White Stuff may not be the Right Stuff'. It went on…"is cows' milk doing children more harm than good?", followed by the usual summary of myths and hypothesis put up, usually by overseas Professors looking for research funds. Shockingly irresponsible, (the arguments were later torn to shreds by Professor Peter Elwood), and only possible because the author of the piece had no nutritional qualifications. If he had, the law would have prevented him from writing it. Nuts, eh?

This takes me neatly on to 'Tiny Teeth', 'Tiny Tums', and 'Baby Nosh'. What do you know about them? They were not in fact amongst the runners at York this week, but they certainly moved just as quickly. They are the titles of three Dairy Council publications, aimed at health professionals (the people who actually know about giving milk to schoolchildren). They are so much in demand by health professionals that we had them re-printed two weeks ago. They have all gone again. In total 560,000 have been requested by and distributed to health professionals in the last year. There are no funds to produce more, but every day more and more orders come in from health professionals, and have to be turned down.

At the same time, more and more articles like the one in the Daily Telegraph about feeding milk to children appear. Ask yourself, would you rather that the consumers of the milk and milk products that you as farmers and processors produce, hear about their nutritional benefits from qualified health professionals, or from unqualified journos in The Daily Telegraph? If you are a farmer, and you are concerned, have a word with your DairyCo Board member. If you are a processor, you'll be hearing from me shortly.

And finally, on the subject of meaningful quotes, those of you still seeking a moral direction (Queen Bee, Dairy Industry Comms Directors, DairyCo Board, Fergus the Green, Simon the Pieman, Cannon and Ball, the A team, et al, please take note) could do a lot worse than to re-read the utterings of that towering intellectual Jimmy Reid, laid to rest in Glasgow this week. I watched the funeral live on TV at the office. The eulogies were given by a litany of great Scots from working class backgrounds who have achieved great things, including Sir Alex Ferguson and Billy Connolly. Connolly in particular recalled a conversation with Reid as they were walking through a Glasgow housing scheme. He had remarked that behind every window there could be a world champion yachtsman or a Shakesperian actor. But we would never know because they would never set foot on a yacht or a stage.

Jimmy's famous 'rat race' speech on his appointment as rector of Glasgow University was his most celebrated, and described in the New York Times as 'the greatest speech since President Lincoln's Gettysburg address. But the quote going on my wall was his remonstration to the Clyde workers who participated in the 'work in' at the Govan shipyard. 'There will be no hooliganism. There will be no vandalism. And there will be no bevvying, because the world is watching us, and it is our responsibility to conduct ourselves with responsibility, and with dignity and with maturity.' It's a mantra that Scots everywhere in the world have practiced ever since.

Friday 13th August 2010

I'm writing this in a posh hotel in Italy. You know, the kind of place where the towels are so fluffy you can hardly get them in your suitcase. It's 34 degrees, and the boss is bronzing beside me. I'm not. I'm a peely wally man myself. It shows sacrifice, and aligns you with the masses. It also saves you the outrageous cost of the plab!

I'm thinking about what the Italians can teach us about pushing up milk consumption. And I'm learning. First, it seems that everyone in Italy takes hot milk in their coffee. Not of course in their tea, but then not many of them drink tea. So in posh hotels like this, when the boss drinks tea, and I drink coffee, we get two jugs of milk and not one. Transfer this principle to the UK, where the number of tea and coffee drinkers is roughly eaksy, right away, you double the consumption.

But it's what they do with cheese that's inspirational. First of all, they block out all the competition. Where I am, in the foothills of Mount Vesuvius, eating out you have two choices of restaurant – Italian or pizzeria. No French, Indian, Thai, Chinese, Tierra del Fuegian whatsoever. So all you do is eat cheese in a whole variety of interesting ways. But it's what they do with mozzarella in its uncooked form that's so fascinating. They add a little bit of tomato, a sliver of basil, a drizzle of virgin olive oil, and they call it Caprese. Instantly, it becomes the sandwich of choice for the common man, the office worker, the tourist, and all the swanks who are preening themselves in front of me as I write in my posh hotel. These include, I am advised, the boss.

So where is our Caprese in the UK? I want you to understand that I've done my bit to make it happen. Years ago, when the only variety of pizza that anyone in the UK had heard of was an amore, I was able to convince the powers that be at the Milk Marketing Board to reduce the milk price for mozzarella cheese by 2p per litre (or was it two pennies per gallon?) to allow us to tap into the then unknown pizza retail market. It worked, and we became major European producers. We still are, but the product remains largely unknown to UK consumers because we don't give it to them in a form they can eat it. It needs something with it, like virgin olive oil, tomato and basil.

My challenge to our cheese marketeers and to the BCB (mozzarella is just as British as cheddar is to the New Zealanders) is to get the Caprese into mainstream sandwich eating in the UK. You'll never look back.

Meanwhile, back at HQ, there is a degree of satisfaction that weeks of hard work by Dairy UK penetrated the conscience of the Prime Minister when he stepped in to save the Welfare Milk Scheme.  And so we have another Conservative politician who didn't fancy the same historical legacy as Margaret Thatcher. No matter that there was a touch of Laurel and Hardy about the process, it's the end result that counts. But the job is not yet done, there's still the £1.5m school milk top up to consider. Originally this was destined for Dairy UK for a promotion and education project. Now, it has an uncertain future. Not surprisingly, Dairy UK has been knocking on the doors of Defra this week. At the moment, no-one appears to be in.

Oh well, time for a gelato in a pokey hat. Now will I have a fragola or a zuppa inglese, or perhaps a straggliatella. If I was in the UK, I'd probably choose between a Mister Softee or a Mivvi. Hmm. I'm afraid that here again, as far as ice cream is concerned, the Italians have got us licked!

Friday 6th August 2010

The Queen Bee continues to resist my overtures to her to be the office guinea pig to try out Boris's new London bikes facility. A gleaming new rack of bicycles is now positioned right outside our door, but so far no Dairy UK or Dairy Council posterior has engaged meaningfully with a Boris saddle. "I can build, and even plaster a wall" she says "but I can't ride a bike!" In order to convince her of the efficiency of Boris's innovation, the highlight of the week was going to be a winner take all race from the office to Waterloo Station – me on the bike and the Queen Bee on the Jubilee line. Then the accursed clones took over.

We've all had to learn new words this week like insemination and paratrooper. And for the first time, some of us have had to learn more about the reproductive systems of sires and daughters than we'd choose to discuss at dinner parties. When I need to have information on this kind of subject, I always turn to the ladies at Dairy Co who have always provided me with an abundance of technical detail. And so it has been this week. Why can't it all be as straightforward, as in the old Incredible String Band song about the amoeba: "...and when I look, there's two of me. Both as handsome as can be."

Most Frankenstein Foods stories explode in the Daily Mail, and always with banner headline. And of course this is exploited to the full by the radical organisations, whether their concerns are about what's in food, or about animal welfare. It is a relatively straightforward thing for the media in the UK to malign an industry without too much risk of redress. If something is wrong, all that's usually offered is an apology somewhere next to the greyhound results. It is very different in the US where "misquoting" regularly results in successful litigation. Maybe that's why consumers in the US seem to have a different attitude to issues such as cloning and GM. But once the story is out, you must do something about it. You can't just sit and hope it goes away.

As I sit her at the end of the week, the existence of "illegal" milk in the food chain has been progressively eliminated by the Food Standards Agency, and Dairy UK has been directly involved in that process. Now, we are all working on the future, because we are all aware that there are animals around in the system which at some point in the future have the potential to re- generate the difficulties we've experienced this week. So we have to get it right.

From my point of view I think that the food safety case for milk from the progeny of clones is fully proven. I'm also pretty confident that the welfare case will in time be proven too. But the ethical case is not, and just like large scale farms, and housed cattle systems a large amount of consumer education is going to be required. What I believe is undeniable is that the proper route for the debate is the EU Novel Food legislation. That must be properly implemented and clearly understood, because it will deliver the transparency that has been lacking this week. You simply cannot experiment with food in secret. So while the process is in place to resolve this issue, the traceability system which is essential to deliver transparency is probably not. Had it been in place the immense pressure that's been imposed on the industry this week would have been removed. I was delighted to hear that Food Minister Jim Paice commented on Wednesday that he was going to do something about this. It's badly needed.

My wife has been distinctly unimpressed by this all week. Especially when the screeching of the scary woman from Sustain made the television rock and frightened our cats. As I left the house this morning, she said to me "Can you bring me home a George Clooney clone? " I think I'll just invest in a George Clooney mask. Then she'll never know the difference!

Friday, 30 July 2010

As I emerged from the car park at Nantwich I faced two traffic control stewards. One was enthusiastically waving me forward, the other was firmly telling me to stop. Uhuh, I thought. There must be a Ferrari behind me being waved through to the front. But then I thought a cheesemaker in a Ferrari? You're having a laugh!

Still going through my mind was my meeting the day before with executives from Friends of the Earth. They had told me to forget about all the good things that supermarkets had done for elite farmers with contracts, product innovations and integrated supply chains etc. It was on the treatment of the common famer supplying commodity cheese that the industry should be judged. OK, so what better place to make this judgement than Nantwich (unfortunately, pre-billed as the World Cup of cheese awards, thereby automatically putting the kiss of death on any entrants for England, I mused).

I found the mood of the cheese industry at Nantwich a mixture of glowing smiles and worried frowns, not unlike a gladiatorial forum where the winners eat up the losers. Is the divergence between the winners and losers in the cheese industry becoming more apparent I wondered? Well, not if my mate Cheesy Peasy is anything to go by. I had the privilege of sitting next to this northern buzz bomb at lunch. Cheesy is the ultimate tonic. 'So little time, so many people to meet,' he breezed'. 'Only 24 hours in a day, it's just not enough,' he continued. Cheesy and I had shared a platform at a conference in Cheshire last month. He had been asked to speak about what goes through the mind of a supermarket supplier. His first slide identified four things – women, football, fast cars, and beer. 'Why did you think it would it be any different for me,' he told the audience.

In terms of defining technical product excellence, Nantwich has no equal. A total of 3,200 cheeses are up for prizes, and more than 900 of them leave with prestigious gongs. One creamery - Taw Valley in Devon - won UK Supreme Champion that's among 34 awards including 17 golds. What an incredible stash. In my view, cheesemaking should be an Olympic sport, and the cheesemaker at Taw Valley should start to receive lottery funding immediately. Incidentally, in passing, I trust you all responded to Lord Coe's plea this week for volunteers for the Olympics. My wife nominated me as a sandpit for the long jump, so that the competitors would always have a nice soft landing!

But listen. I wonder if anyone at Nantwich has thought about extending the awards beyond technical excellence and marketing. What about awards for leading price initiatives with customers, margin and profitability, export penetration, best premium/commodity ratio, adding value beyond the commodity return, and milk price returned to the farmer. Let's be honest, it's the technical excellence that drives the margin. So in this modern world of measuring outputs rather than processes, if you're a cheesemaker, wouldn't you be just as proud if you were crowned the 2011 Supreme Champion for delivering the highest margin to your company and highest milk price to your farmers? You wouldn't even need a cheese iron to work it out.

At Nantwich, we shared a stand with the British Cheese Board. Before I left I asked the nice leady from Kindred, the BCB's PR advisors, for a piece of cheese to take home to my wife. She gave me a 20g portion pack of cheddar. She clearly knew better than me what every woman wants. Hey, what the hell. Small can be big, eh?

There were so many entries at Nantwich that the judging for the Supreme Champion took an inordinately long time, and I personally missed the traditional tea and fruit cake as a result. In the end, the top prize went to a parmesan cheese from Italy. It was made by a company called Ferrari Dairy. Now about that incident in the car park...

Friday, 23 July 2010

This week I've wrestled the reins of the blog from the DG, who is relishing the chance to recharge his creative batteries. To my certain knowledge, I'm the only person to have guest edited the blog more than once. This tells you much about the DG's iron grip on the workplace. We all know the Queen Bee, Fergus the Green and Alexander the Great. But what of Auld Bluenose himself? The Dear Leader? Paulo Nutini's London Agent? Well you hear enough from him each week, so I'll move quickly on.

Will I use this opportunity to talk about the emasculation of the FSA this week? Big issues such as this week's CAP conference or the launch of yet another report urging people to eat less meat and dairy? Well, yes – I've just mentioned them. But what I'm more keen to talk about is the fact I've got just seven more days as Communications Director of Dairy UK, and as the last few weeks have involved a seemingly endless series of handover lunches with key journalists and contacts, I wonder why on earth I'm going. Of course, it's not got anything to do with the job. Or the people. All of which has been great fun.

It's all to do with my long-term dream of sailing to the Caribbean and back. Now, we're not doing it in a pea-green boat, although I suspect Mrs F. may have relished being described as a 'Pussy Cat bride' in last week's column. But when I tell people that we'll be spending the next 13 months of our lives in a space that measures just 10m long by 3 wide and pitches about in all directions, people tend to react in one of two ways. You've got those who smile wistfully and say 'what fun – have a great time'. Then you've got the other, largely male group who ask: 'And this is just you and your wife, eh? We'll see you in a couple of weeks then!'

In a vain effort to add a note of worthiness to what would otherwise be a year of stolid self indulgence, we've decided to raise money for a good cause. No, not the Seaman's Rum Fund; nor the Former Pirate's Benevolent Institution. Since we'll be spending a year on the high seas, we're hoping to build up a donation to the Marine Conservation Society, which does almost exactly what it says on the tin. We hope to raise a pound for every mile we cover. Don't worry, Jim, that's the more generous nautical mile – but we should cover some 10,000 of them over the year. If you want to keep up with our tally of miles (and pounds), you can follow our progress on http://blog.mailasail.com/summersong course, it won't all be fresh mackerel and copious grog. There'll be thunderstorms, tidal waves and even, as one unlucky South African couple discovered this week, balletic whales landing on the foredeck. And I'll miss the great characters I've met in the job – from colleagues at Milk HQ in London to roundsmen in Wigan. I'll try and keep a stiff upper lip, though, as we tuck into lobster and cool beers on a deserted beach. But above all, I wish you and the dairy industry all plain sailing.

Friday, 16 July 2010

St Swithin's day is always staggeringly memorable. Firstly it always rains. But more significantly it usually marks the start of the British Open Golf Championship - I'll be in St Andrews at the weekend roaring on Rory. Last time I was there for the Open, I recall a Japanese journalist describing it as 'a glamorous event', but why didn't they hold it in the summer?

On St Swithin's day in London, I had as much fun as it's possible to have under an umbrella. The last ever National Dairy Benevolent Institution lunch took place at The Farmers' Club. I always like to strike a blow against the establishment by not wearing a tie at The Famers' Club. Once, memorably, I smuggled the great ATG in Bermuda shirt, shorts and flip flops right through to the terrace without detection. This time, I got as far as former DTF President Bryan Smith who reminded me that the lunch was only for people who were fully dressed.

I sat next to the charity's accountant who was absolutely charming but I began to get a bit alarmed as he progressively revealed his intimate and in depth knowledge of global casinos. Why was this the last NDBI lunch I wondered? I've been in tight circumstances before but I've never been shoe horned in like we were around that lunch table. I prayed for the comforting environment of a sardine in a tin. It was only possible for every second person to lean forward to get the food from their plate at any one time.  So we had to work out and stick to a fairly well disciplined seesaw arrangement that allowed us to complete our meals. I had to leave some green beans on my plate. It wasn't that I didn't want to eat them, it was that I couldn't physically reach them.

I left the lunch and headed for what turned out to the highlight of the week – the Dairy UK engagement with Fonterra Chairman Henry van der Heyden. I've never seen Henry in better form. He has finally got his capital restructuring programme on an 80% vote with 90% support. So he's now got funds to expand. His Government has done a free trade deal with China, opening up even greater access for him to this vast growing market (10% increase in GNP this year). And, with a smirk, he reflects that his country has water to sustain the growth in production. Not everyone can say that. His farmers know how to handle volatile markets, while we are still on a learning curve, and his controversial auction is going from strength to strength. We talked about Fonterra's corporate structure and the dedicated governance development programme for those who aspire to be Fonterra farmer directors. This starts with a two hour interview, whose transcript is published on the website. And Sir Henry has a devastatingly simple way of communicating with every Fonterra producer on a weekly basis. His phone number is available to all, and how many calls per year does he get from his members? The average is around five! The Chairman and CEOs at our meeting turned green with envy.

Afterwards, the now celebrated New Zealand reception on the 18th floor of NZ House was entertaining and revealing. I panicked for a moment when I saw England's number one football fan Ian Potter out on the terrace, alone, staring out into the abyss. Oh no, I thought. He wouldn't. It's only a game. So I rushed out, put a comforting arm around his shoulder, and tried to persuade him to sign a legacy form so that all his worldly goods would be passed across to the Tartan Army "Old Mother Hubbard" trophy cabinet fund. He smiled, and promptly turned the form into a paper aeroplane. Together we watched it, symbolically, like all England fans collectively, come slowly down to earth.

Afterwards we had an impromptu birthday party for Welshie from Defra. We went to the 'Scottish' bar called The Albannach in Trafalgar Square. Somebody asked me what 'albannach' meant. I said it was a Gaelic word which meant 'same drinks as everywhere else but at four times the price'. Welshie impressed us all by chatting up the waiter in Italian. His reply to everything she said was 'fantastico'. I have no idea what fantastico means, But I guessed from her expression that she wasn't asking him for an extra dash of lime in her lager! Happy birthday, Welshie from all at Dairy UK. The card is in the post.

Finally, it's now only a couple of weeks until Curly the owl and his pussy cat bride set off on the high seas over the horizon to Tierra Del Fuego and all points west. As you can image, I spend a lot of my time at industry hooleys telling people how Curly is. They are delighted when I tell them that the captain's hat he now wears to the office is not because of his affection for the Village People. However at NZ House, I learned from a well-wisher that as part of his trip he is planning to seek sponsorship for some animal charities. I am happy to pass on this information via this column to all of you as a means of boosting the fund. Personally, the only animal sponsorship I get involved in is my season ticket for Rangers FC. Yes, it's a hefty commitment, but it's a cross that I am perennially willing to bear.

Friday, 9 July 2010

Think for a minute – where in the world are you at your happiest alone? For me, it could be O'Reilly's bar across from The Bourse in Brussels on big match night. I watched the Netherlands slay Uruguay there on Tuesday night. Quite alone, except for 150,000 Dutchmen – every one dressed as though they'd come straight from a windmill. The size of the crowd presented logistical difficulties in getting to the bar. No problem, I simply went to the dull, quiet bar next door and brought the drinks back to O'Reilly's (an old trick). Peter and Heidi, my new friends from Amsterdam, co-operated by keeping my seat all night.

Earlier in the day, I'd been to the Dairy Supply Chain Forum meeting in London - the first presided over by new Food Minister, Jim Paice. Jim had complicated things in advance by exercising a cull of attendees. Good idea, I thought. Start off with the industry, and then move on to the badgers! In principle, it was supposed to be one per organisation, but a quick scan round the room revealed that the farming organisations can't count. I wondered how they'd got round Welshie from Defra who was scorekeeper and enforcer. It was she who drew my attention to the innovative approach adopted by my resourceful colleagues from our dairy levy body. Their CEO attended as the representative of DairyCo, and their Chairman attended on behalf of Dairy Co. The name plates were clearly different. Mind the gap or what? Can you spot the difference? Welshie could, and she takes the minutes. So that was that.

Jim seemed disappointed with the relatively subdued responses of the delegates. But it was his fault. Not only does he understand his portfolio, back to front, but you get the impression that he agrees with some of the points being made to him by the lobbyists. That's really unsettling for a lobbyist. You don't expect Ministers to say, you're right. Where do you go then? In his short introductory remarks, he reeled off support for many of the points that the lobbyists were about to try and persuade him on. So of course it was subdued - no-one had anything left to say!

This week saw the planned exit of Alan Wiseman as Chairman of RWD Ltd. And so departs the man who, more than anyone else, put the capital "V" in vision for the British dairy industry. No mean achievement for someone who feels as comfortable at his US base in Las Vegas, Nevada, as he does tending his beloved cactus plants at home in Hamilton. You might think it odd that a man from Hamilton looks after cactus plants for a hobby, but it's no real surprise to me. It hones your skills perfectly for dealing with prickly situations.

These skills I remember were essential in the early days of the Wiseman business. Alan spotted a wealth of talent in the socially deprived Glasgow housing schemes. Highly intelligent kids with no real chance of making it because of their circumstances were employed in the business, and he stuck with them through their "difficult" years until the payback came later as their natural talents were successfully deployed in the growth of the company. He did simple things to reinforce staff commitment. For example, he got the Wiseman share price published in the Scottish Daily Record, the paper the staff read, even if the city investors didn't. Later, through a programme of acquiring small dairy businesses in Scotland, he not only took over the companies but he retained the entrepreneurs within them, and used their talents for the rapidly expanding company. Dairy Council Chairman, The Great Alexander, often revered as a celebrity in this column, is a classic example of this.

Alan was the leading instigator of one trip packaging for milk in the UK after an SDT trip to the States to look at how supermarkets worked. Look where that has ended up. And of course, when the MMB era was ending just as his company was becoming a plc, he was the first to recognise that the now incomprehensible policy implemented by the MMBs of charging the same price to buyers, irrespective of where your factory was, would rapidly disappear. So the new Wiseman factories went from the towns into the milk fields, and it's worked like that ever since .

All of this would have potentially been lost to the industry if he'd followed his intended career path. He wanted to be a pilot. If he'd been two inches taller, he'd have achieved it. British Airways' loss has, for 40 years, been the British dairy industry's gain.

Friday, 2 July 2010

Dairy UK had the Government and a few friends round for supper this week at the Riverbank Park Plaza hotel in London. Swanky I'd call it. But it made a nice change for those of us more accustomed to eating in pubs offering two for one meal deals. It was a good do, and I'm told that from the body of the hall, the speakers had a halo effect around them against the backdrop of the sun setting over the River Thames. I liked this. It's nice to be considered angelic.

Late in the evening, I received word that the DairyCo hockey XI were sponsoring a 'kick on' drinks party on Thamesis, a floating bar moored on the river right across from the hotel. I hesitated. Should I put myself in the Cannon Ball firing line again? Oh, well perhaps just for one!

Thamesis is a bar designed for a haggis. She sits on the mudbank at a permanent 45 degree angle. Anyone with one leg shorter than the other has a clear advantage in getting to the bar first. It was there that I became re-acquainted for the second time in a month (and in a lifetime, actually) with a Corona beer. The barman had squashed some green fruit down the bottleneck. I didn't recognize it, because as you know, Scotsmen don't eat fruit. I turned to the Queen Bee, who was lurking behind me. She said if you finish that one, and then have another four, you'll have met your five-a-day quota!

This was a hugely tempting prospect, but uppermost in my mind was the 4.30am start for my journey the next day to meet the sons of Llywelyn at Gelli Aur near Carmarthen. I know that this would be considered a lie-in for most of my farmer friends, but they're made of stronger stuff. I headed for the exit via the poop deck where I met a posse of bravados from two of Britain's biggest dairy companies. They were rapt in intellectual debate on the burning issues of the day. Does Steve Gerrard's wife actually have a sister? Where do you put your England flag now they're out? These are important issues and I have strong opinions on them. But I wasn't consulted, so I left.

Gelli Aur is strategically located so that by the time anyone gets there, they're completely knackered. So right away, the locals always have home advantage. Tim Bennett always wants to have meetings there. He lives two miles down the road! I love going to rural Wales. Everyone comes at you from left field. I met a wonderfully exuberant lady, who had undertaken a lifetime of innovative business ventures. I asked her why she'd become a cheesemaker. "Divorce", she said. I re-engaged with the great Terrig Morgan, the Nelson Mandela of Welsh dairy farming, and still promoting the cause with undiminished  spirit and vigour. After the opening of the new Dairy Supply Chain Efficiencies project by Rural Affairs Minister Elin Jones, I was scheduled to give a presentation to the Welsh Strategy Group which Terrig chairs. I asked him how much time did he want for presentation and how much time for argument. He said "oh boy bach, we know what you're going to say. Let's just go straight in to the argument!" It's my lifetime ambition to make Terrig happy. Jointly, we've made others happy in our day. In front of a slightly bewildered Elin Jones I said to him " One day Terrig, the milk price is going to be so high that you're gonna turn to me and say here Jim. Take some of this back. You need it more than me." Terrig smiled and said "the only time I'd ever do that is if you wanted the money to buy my farm."

As I listened to UK Food Minister Jim Paice in the posh Riverbank Park Plaza, and then in speaking to Elin Jones in the rustic canteen at Gelli Aur, I could detect striking similarities. Both are immensely popular in their roles. Both have the support of agriculture and the respect of all the stakeholders in the food industry. Both are placing TB at the centre of their political agendas. I sincerely hope that their determination on this single issue, with all its pitfalls, will not undermine their effectiveness in dealing with the food agenda in the round. In many ways, Jim's task will be made much easier if Elin succeeds. She has started the process of badger culling first, but may be sidetracked on a technicality. I sincerely hope she succeeds.

Somehow, this and the other issue that dominated the discussion at the Welsh Strategy Group meeting viz large scale farming and in particular 24 hour housed production systems have moved right to the front of dairy's public agenda. Our PR has to be spot on, and proactive.

As I returned from Wales, I took a call about Dairy UK's conference at the Dairy Event in September. I reflected wistfully that by accident or design, even the RABDF has taken us out of the public gaze in the fields and meadows of Stoneleigh, and will be housing us inside for the duration in Birmingham. The trend is clear, and I think unstoppable.

Friday, 25 June 2010

This time I can honestly say that I was there. Yes, I was there at the Wimbledon marathon tennis match. Did you see them come off the court? Legs like jelly? I was exactly the same, except that my condition had been caused by having to pay for a punnet of strawberries and cream! I had been softened for the shock by having had to pay £4.50 for a small bottle of beer at the Queen's Club Tournament two weeks' earlier, but still I had palpitations. The only consolation, I suppose, is that at least the huge margin on the cream will go back to the hard-pressed dairy farmers, won't it?

The Royal Highland Show is the doyenne of agricultural hoolies. All around me there is fun and laughter, serious debate on farming issues, sport and music, politicians and stockmen, livestock and milk maids, exhibitors and performers. All this, and I hadn't even left the bar. At the Dairy UK Scotland Board meeting, we had to send out for more seats. Then we shared riveting information. The noble Maitland Mackie revealed that there was now more money in wind than in milk (Maitland: You are talking to the guy who wrote the book!). I spotted the Dairy Council Chairman, The Great Alexander (pictured), wandering around the milking sheds. Simultaneously in the background, the Alexander brothers were on the bandstand singing "Rear'd amang the heather. You can see he's Scottish built. With the wig, wig, wig, wiggle, waggle o', the kilt". I thought this was a perfect match.

I wondered what the EU Agriculture Commissioner, Dacian Cioloş, was making of all of this. I'd spotted him at the airport and thought I might have had a chance of hitching a lift to the showground, but my credibility was blown when he saw my Easyjet boarding pass sticking out my pocket. I did, however, get the opportunity to share my views with him later at a select, invitation only seminar, where the Scottish Minister, Richard Lochhead, described the audience as "the cream of the Scottish industry". Well, at Wimbledon prices, that must have meant there must have been about a hundred grand in the room.

I offered Mr Cioloş the view that he should look to Scotland for his model of post-2015 quota-free dairy supply chain relationships – all being implemented successfully without state intervention and creating real value in the farmers' contract. But the other suggestion I made was that in managing the delicate balancing act for farmers in the CAP, ie as producers of food and providers of public goods, he was going too far in the latter direction. He rejected this of course, but as soon as I had spoken, as ever, the bee keepers, the bird watchers and the water diviners, all waded in with their relentless demands that Pillar One must be much more accountable to the environment. My impression was that in this regard, they were pushing against an open door, and that they were winning.

Later, in the relaxed confines of the NFUS stand, I was discussing the debate with some of the other "cream of the industry" friends and colleagues, who had been at the meeting. They said that they had heard Cioloş say food production first and the rest can follow after. But I didn't hear that from either Cioloş or Paulo de Castro, the European Parliament Agriculture Committee Chairman, who had shared his platform. Whether he did or he didn't, my message to the NFUS, and indeed to all of us, is that nowadays in public debates over the CAP, there are seven spokesmen for the birds and bees for every spokesman there is for food producers, and we should watch this carefully.

Finally, to the ladies of the UK dairy industry, this is the last weekend to buy your new posh frocks for the Dairy UK dinner next Wednesday, so go to it with vigour! My advice is to leave it until Sunday afternoon - around 3 o'clock would be best. If you do that, I can assure you that your menfolk won't bat an eyelid over the expense. You won't even have to tell them that you've had the dress for weeks. But be very wary about trying it on, on Sunday night, for "an opinion". If he's still in the house and not out on the town drinking champagne, I'd leave it till the next day if I were you. Oh, and these nice Bratwurst sausages you bought for Monday's breakfast? Give them to the cat. She'll appreciate them more. It's only a game, eh?

Friday, 18 June 2010

"So explain this to me again, sighed Mrs B. If I buy a pack of cheese and it's got a red tractor on it that's good?"
"Yes," said I.
"But if it's got a red traffic light on it, that's bad?"
"Yes, that's right."
"And if it's got a green traffic light on it that's good?" 
"Well yes, in principle....but a pack of cheese won't have a green traffic light on it." 
"What if it's got a green tractor on it?" 
"There isn't such a thing," I said.
"Why not, if green means good?" 
"Er.... don't be ridiculous, have you ever seen a green tractor?" 
"No, but I'm a consumer - I don't go on to farms."
"Right, well a tractor is a bit like a Ferrari.....red means good."
"So does a green Ferrari mean bad?"
"Well, yes, it means less valuable. Not everything green is good... England goalkeepers, for example!"
Long pause.............. "Can you explain the offside rule to me again?"

But of course, traffic lights as a food labelling system are no more. They got a red card from the European Parliament this week, and that's definitely bad. No problem there, though. It's a rare victory for science over simplicity. If there's a problem, it's about how our valiant MEP's came to make this decision and the 249 others they had to make in passing the Regulation on Food Information to Consumers. If you'd watched it, you'd have squirmed at the lack of understanding and knowledge in the room on the issues being debated. The experts watching on TV screens round Europe were baffled, and few people, least of all our beloved MEPs, knew what was going on. I can't guarantee this, but I thought I heard a French MEP say that he hoped that the end of traffic lights would lead to the installation of more roundabouts. But at the end of it, we have the bones of a regulation with massive implications for the EU food industry.

There's nothing new in this, of course. Every day, people take big decisions wearing blinkers. Not you or I, of course. We know everything about everything. It's the others who are the problem. I've met some England supporters who think their team will win the World Cup. I've read press releases from Compassion in World Farming. But increasingly this situation seems to be less the exception and more the norm.

I mean, take one single issue out of the 249 that the MEPs had to agree on this bill – country of origin labelling (COOL). Swept through in the blink of an eye, but what exactly have they agreed to? At Dairy UK, we took five minutes to agree with mandatory COOL, but it's taken us eight months to work out what it means and even now we don't have the perfect solution.

The EP, the EU High Level Group and the NFU believe that it simply means the place of farming. But consider for a moment the unimaginable – raw milk being exported to a French cheese factory. Would you expect to see on the label of the cheese - Meilleur Camembert Anglais - Produit du Royaume Uni? No. So at the very least, the place of manufacture has to be included. I'm told that the place of farming already works well for the beef industry where 'it fits' conveniently. But I think that's a lot of bullocks! Has it stopped the age old practice of reared cows in England and then sending them for a two week slaughter holiday to Scotland so that the Scotch beef premium can be secured? I doubt it. I mean, how do you tell the difference between a Scottish cow and an English cow? Does the Scottish one moo with a Scottish accent? If I was a Scottish cow, and I was chopped up and put in a steak and kidney pie, and labelled as English. I'd be well hacked off about it. I'd probably write to my MEP! So, I believe the COOL issue still has some way to run. Defra and Jim Paice are hot on this issue. I'm looking forward to the debate.

Finally, and remarkably, the following piece came through in my press clippings this morning. Referring to England fans in town for tonight's bunfight it said "Some run their own businesses and are in South Africa for most, if not all, of the tournament. Others are multi-millionaires, and quite a few are ex-patriot Britons who've travelled here from all corners of the globe. But Ian Potter from Derbyshire and a group of England supporters wanted to do more than just eat, drink and make merry in Cape Town. They decided to take the ferry out to Robben Island, with thoughts not of football, but of history, racial oppression and injustice. Multi-millionaire or expat Briton? What do you think? Well, he's certainly not an expat, so…

Friday, 11 June 2010

I see that the Prime Minister wants us all to hoist up England flags over our offices for the duration of the World Cup. I, of course, support that. At the very least, the England football team share my tailor. However at Dairy UK we are a consensus organisation. So I decided to consult the membership in the form of The Dairy Council Board meeting, which just happened to follow the PM's statement. On that particular day, The Dairy Council Board consisted of three Scotsman, one Irish lady, one Welshman and one Iranian. They chose to decline the PM's suggestion. What can I do? I am a mere servant of my pay masters. I would say no more than that I expect to be able to recover faster from the psychological damage of an early England exit than most of my colleagues.

Rather than being concerned about where people should be putting their England flags (although I agree it is an important issue), I think the PM might be a touch more concerned about the reaction of his backbench MPs to his new coalition's 'gung ho, blast them from the trenches' style of Government. I met some of them at a function this week in the House of Commons and surprisingly found them in some trepidation over returning to their constituencies at the weekend. 'Well, the economy is one thing, but what about the Food Standards Agency,' I asked? So far, although the Government has done lots of things it didn't include in its manifesto, it still hasn't done anything about the FSA, which was in fact a pre-election commitment.

Despite this, there is now no doubt that the FSA will be chopped up a little, with responsibility for nutrition reverting back to the Department of Health. Dairy UK supports this and believes that it will strengthen both the FSA (with its outstanding performance on safety and science) and the Department of Health (which will take a more balanced, wider look at nutrition in the context of exercise and the other factors which contributes to human health and wellbeing). But the FSA insiders are moping, believing nutrition will lose importance in the plethora of issues that the Department of Health has to deal with. Cheer up lads. You may see this as a blow in the short term but in the medium and long term, I predict that your stock will rise ever further.

From the House of Commons, straight to Reaseheath in Cheshire for the royal opening of the Eden International Dairy Academy, the dairy industry's new technical centre of excellence integrated within a revitalised agricultural college which is going from strength to strength. Gushing, but unquestionably deserved tributes were paid to the people who made this happen, viz the Eden Project Steering Group marshalled and driven with purpose by Jens Termansen of Arla and Julie Walker of RWD – the duo whose idea it was in the first place. As I commented at the launch this is a world class facility. If Carlsberg did technical centres........!

The regret was that Dairy UK's man on the team developing this project, Edmund Proffitt, was missing. A renowned petrol head, he is on his annual pilgrimage (along with Malthusian Pete) visiting European motorcycle scrapyards looking for spare parts. This culminates each year at Le Mans which I understand is a convention of global greasemonkeys who meet in a car park in France and squirt WD40 over each other. I've told them they should try out a beach where they might come across things they've never seen before – but what do I know? But if you're reading this on your Blackberry Ed, congratulations. You can be  proud of what you've achieved.

Finally it's good to have Curly back in the office with us – albeit stuck together with pieces of sticking plaster. I can't help but think, though, that his mind is focused on his next swash buckling adventure on the high seas. It's the fact that he comes into the office in a pirates outfit that gives it away. Plus he keeps adjusting the air conditioning in the office so that he can practice staying vertical in a breeze. Ship ahoy, Curly. Keep your feet on dry land in the meantime, and don't sail off over the horizon without a decent sized packet of Quells.

Friday, 4 June 2010

The regular reader of this column knows that it tries to take a light hearted look at serious contemporary issues affecting the dairy industry. Sometimes the activities of named individuals are portrayed humorously, but hopefully always with respect, and certainly always because they have done something positive to deserve it.

On this ongoing theme, step forward Albert Flynn, renowned Professor of Nutrition at Cork University in Ireland, and chair of the European Food Safety Authority's adjudicating panel on health claims. In the latter roles he is the supreme arbiter of nutritional science as it relates to health claims on food. If you want to be able to claim that your product is capable of tickling my fancy, then it's Albert you have to convince. He is the Celtic equivalent of the Man from Del Monté, and as he walked on to the stage at EFSA's stakeholder forum in Parma this week, the 400 plus throng of disciples in the audience started a low virtual chant of "Here comes the judge".

Albert had come to Parma to explain to the baying crowd why on 98 out of every 100 claims he'd looked at so far, his thumb had pointed downwards, and not up. Even Julius Caesar in the Coliseum would have been envious of a record like that. And in Parma, just like Rome, the baying crowd were looking for blood, and the lions were looking for dinner. But of course, Albert didn't really need to explain his decisions to anyone, because frankly, none of this is Albert's fault. In fact, he had as much right as anyone to be narked about the hopeless mess this EU Health Claims' Regulation is now in. Indeed, he has more right to be narked than the army of consultants in the room who'd been paid stashes of lolly by food companies to get their claims through and had failed. Their tears were of the crocodile variety and their most pressing need now was for Albert to tell them how they could squeeze even more cash from their clients with re-submissions. And quite what Albert thinks of the EU Commission is anyone's guess. They promised him a prestigious manageable task. Instead, he's had to burn the midnight oil and travel back and forth from Cork to Parma relentlessly on Ryanair. And he's still not even a quarter of the way through the job. I mean, how would you feel if you had to buy a season ticket for Ryanair? For sure, I know that if I were Albert's wife, the last thing I'd be offering him for tea when he gets home  at night is a pizza!

No, the problem here lies squarely with the Commission, and so therefore does the solution. It was they who set up the process by which the adjudication rules were clear only after the claims and the supporting science had been submitted. It was they who framed the regulation to match the specificity of medicines and not foods. It was they who 'merged' the 44,000 claims down to 4,600, thereby delinking the claims and the science. And it was they who vastly understated the size of what is now a task which is suffocating the EFSA resources. How can they have done this? If you promise free beer tomorrow, how can you be surprised when people then turn up at the pubs?

Effectively therefore, the Commission's mandate to Albert and his eminent team put them in a straightjacket, but in Parma he was gentleman enough to communicate this to the audience only by facial expression. He doesn't want to be Julius Caesar, he wants to be the man from Del Monte, and he painstakingly spent the day advising how the remaining 3000 or so claims had the best chance of getting through. But he smiled little on the day. Not even when a man talking about the health benefits of fish inadvertently described himself as a "simple soul (sole)". Nor when another contributor talking about how his food ingredient could be beneficial for hair said that he would only "give the highlights"! But I noticed a knowing smile creep across his face when the EFSA Director General, Catherine Geslain - Laneelle accidently misread her script and said that the EFSA role was "to protect the Commission". She immediately corrected it to "protect consumers". I wondered if Albert thought that she'd been right the first time.

Friday, 28 May 2010

I've been trachled all day today. However, not as much as the taxi driver taking me back to the office from a Crisis Management meeting in London. As we sat at traffic lights at Tottenham Court Road, he was venting strong opinions about a guy urinating against a wall in full public view. Only taxi drivers are allowed to do that by law, I learned. With his attention diverted, the cab drifted accidently forward, pushing over what's called a Community Support Officer on her bike. A CSO is a kind of policeman in a yellow steward's outfit. The inevitable stooshie which followed was shortened by my instantaneous four-word, five syllable, crisis management advice to the cabbie. By the time we reached Baker Street, he was genuinely appreciative of my advice, although still declaring to all and sundry that he couldn't understand why a milkman was wearing a suit!

What was rankling with me was the fact that despite everything, there are still people amongst our ranks who seem to want to suppress the positive action being taken by the industry on Johne's disease.  While I'd been in my Crisis Management meeting, I received an e-mail warning me about a newspaper article on Johne's disease linking it again with Crohn's disease in humans.  The story was actually a positive piece about progress in addressing Johne's, but of course the context had been elaborated negatively by the headline writer (and by the scientists engaged in the research) for greater effect.  It must be as plain as a pikestaff that the positive work being done in our Johne's action group to provide a Tool Kit of remedial measures for the industry to use is pretty much the complete answer to any criticism that we might face on this highly controversial and sensitive subject. We must press on with it.

The sunny spot of the week (apart from the news that Jose Mourinho is not going to pursue the managerial vacancy at Celtic because he's not that bloody special – hee hee!!) came in Smith Square where Defra's four Ministerial virgins fronted up to the industry's stakeholders including me. The ability to approach each problem with a blank sheet of paper is for most of us a dream. For new, incoming Ministers it's a reality so all the stakeholders try to ensure that their concerns are at the top of the new check lists. What strikes me about these meetings is that the room is always stacked full of birdwatchers, beekeepers, protection societies, trusts and people who include the term "bio" in every sentence. Food producers almost have to apologise for their attendance. I playfully teased the Minister about the need for a total supply chain approach to agricultural policy , but it was left to my mate and fellow jock, Happy Jack Matthews, CEO of Skills body Improve!, to force the message home. Food is by far the biggest manufacturing employer in the country, and policy decisions should be taken with that thought in mind. Happy Jack is absolutely right, protect the bees and you'll have more bees - protect the food producers and you'll have more jobs. Well done, Jacko, he's my hero for the week.

And I want to finish this week with a fond message to all scientists working in the dairy industry. Three times this week I've heard scientists say that policy should be based on good, sound science. Lord Henley said it at the Ministerial hello on Tuesday, David Gregory said it at the IFST Lecture at  the Royal Society on Thursday and the Queen Bee and Professor Edski both said it at the Dairy UK Board meeting on Wednesday. Guys, it's the other way round, I'm afraid. Try and see it from the point of view of the social scientists. The problem they have is that when they turn to the techies for answers, the science is almost always not there. It is astounding what little practical science there is in the world for policy makers to work with, but there is no shortage of respectable noted scientists who for a sniff of the filthy lucre, will take on, challenge and dispute, any hypothesis or principle put up by another equally noted and respected scientist, who has received a great dollop of spondulix to make the statement in the first place,. Look at the debate on TB, for example, or the debacle in EFSA on Health Claims and of course, of more relevance to us, the scientific debate with Government on fat. So, rightly or wrongly, policy drives science, because it's the policy makers who pay for the science, so it's they who drive it.

Having got that off my chest, I'm off to find a bar that isn't decked out with England flags. The nearest one may be in France. Phew.

It's going to be a long hot summer!

Friday, 21 May 2010

Zippity doo dah!  Out of the blue, the sun is shining, and suddenly everyone is in holiday mood. Dress down Friday seems to have turned our office into something approaching a film set from an episode of "Wish You Were Here". There is a proliferation of Bermuda shorts, Jesus sandles, and cropped tops! At Dairy UK all the men take their fashion lead from Fergus the Green. Today he is sporting a biodegradable, Fair Trade, tangerine tank top, made from reclaimed barracuda fish scales.  On the front there is an inscription, "Save the Galapagos Porcupine". No-one really knows how much trouble the Galapagos porcupines are in, but if FTG thinks they need saving, we're all behind him. We've all ordered a tangerine tank top for next Friday.

I'm in my office in a sober blue suit and moping. I'm in a suit because later today I'm meeting the Government at Smith Square and I just feel that someone has to stand out from the Man U and Chelsea tops so favoured by our public servants. Last night, I had to wear a tie, just to get through the door at the plush Caledonian Club in London. Unsurprisingly the chef's special on the menu was "mince and tatties". Help my boab! Can you imagine having to wear a tie to eat mince and tatties? When I was a boy we had mince and tatties every day, and my mother used to scream through from the kitchen, "Don't forget to take your tie off before you start eating'".

I'm moping because I'm looking at what's happening to the euro. At Dairy UK we appear to take our forward currency advice from Betfred.com, so earlier in the year we paid all our annual euro bills in the belief that we were at the lowest value of the euro.  At that point, our advisors clearly thought that Greece was simply the name of a good film. None of the weakness in the euro helps anyone in this country, other than holidaymakers. And that is certainly true for our dairy industry. It makes imports to the UK more competitive, and ultimately, depending on how the governments in the eurozone countries reacts, it could engender deflation and reduced demand for our products.  But every cloud...............etc, and ours is that as we've observed, the impact of the recession on demand in the last two years has been arguably secondary to the impact of the variation global milk supply. Ironically then, it's the fact that supply has been constrained by the weather that may see us ride this latest storm.

I stravaiged, as I do, periodically, into the inner workings of Assured Food Standards (AFS) this week. The Red Tractor organisation continues to defy economic gravity. It operates on the shoestring of a slip on shoe, yet gets its mark on £10 billion of retail goods, without even seriously troubling the food service sector or indeed Scotland.  It has now got funding from the AHDB that had to be squeezed out of them like a lemon. But every pound's a prisoner, and zesty new Chairman, David Gregory, isn't complaining.  He has smothered the organisation in a compost of zippy business plans, clipped no doubt from M & S, his former employers. At the moment, everyone's gasping for air, but  in time, these will increase the yield even more. Unfortunately, the support of former funders the NFU, now comes in spirit rather than cash but it's new CEO, Kevin Roberts, will want to look closely at the bigger picture. AFS, with its myriad of farm standards and its flagship logo, does an immense amount of good for British farming, and underpins British provenance. Despite the fact that it generates no market premiums, it has few critics and massive support beyond the farm gate, and there's a good reason for that. The organisation's finances are still fragile. In this life, you have to know when you're on to a good thing. I'm sure that the farmers will soon wake up and smell the coffee?

Finally, the burden of my day was lightened this morning by a reminder that whatever, someone is having a harder time than you. So thanks to the South West Train driver who today offered the following passenger announcement, "Your delay this morning is caused by the line controller suffering from E & B syndrome: not knowing his elbow from his backside. I'll let you know any further information as soon as I'm given any."  He should become an MP.

Friday, 14 May 2010

Embarrassing or what? The whole god forsaken episode. Not necessarily the outcome though. It's quite possible to run successful coalitions with people of widely diverging views. I've been doing it at Dairy UK for more than five years, and I'm only talking about the staff! The secret is remembering that along with the sunshine, there has to be a little rain sometimes.

Coalitions are the breeding grounds of reasonableness and compromise. The winners are those who can successfully exploit the power of silence. How many times have you triumphed in a mental exchange with someone and never uttered a word? Body language becomes a consummate skill. I once played in a football team where my partner in defense was, fair to say, not my bosom buddy. Worse, our policy on how to play the offside rule was crystal clear. Move out or stay back, depending on how you felt at the time! We never spoke a word to each other all season but we comfortably won the league. There were times when I wanted to ring his neck, and he mine, but silence kept the partnership working successfully together.

The power of silence was exercised adroitly this week by the Food Standards Agency. Purdah, in the absence of a new Government, prevented the FSA from dismissing an inaccurate story in the Daily Mail that they were about to consult on a fat tax for whole milk, cheese and butter. No problem with that, and we already knew this at Dairy UK, because we had had assurances from the FSA directly. If you believe in the phenomena of coincidence, you will not be alarmed by the fact that the authorities in Denmark, who we know are definitely intending to introduce a fat tax on dairy, decided the week before to extend it to meat. This, of course, is a blow to the newly formed Danish Agricultural and Food Council which has combined the industry lobbies in Denmark on meat and dairy. Its the kind of thing that the DAFC was created to prevent. It could, unfortunately, also be a blow to the other EU member states as well because, as we all know, everything from Denmark is spreadable. Well, we're ok in the UK because the FSA have said so, haven't they? And the new Nick and Dave coalition are looking at other ways of cutting the budget deficit, aren't they? I mean, they've said so, haven't they? And we know from the election process hat no-one ever changes their mind, don't we? So we can forget about it for now, yes? Hmm. [ NB: private memo to the Queen Bee: sharpen your pencil and keep your wings well oiled. I can see the train a' puffin'].

Over in the Province, there is much relief in the industry with the confirmation this week that former Northern Ireland MMB CEO, George Chambers' now published history of Northern Ireland Dairy Council, covers more issues than just the selection over the years of the Ulster Dairy Queens. Now a lively octogenarian, George had decided to re-acquaint himself with some of these former beauties, presumably in the interests of thoroughness. Great credit has to go to the Dairy Council, the book's sponsors, for recognising that the authority of the world's 7 great historians comes from detailed and elaborate research.....always assuming of course that the consequent lunch bills don't threaten the financial viability of the whole project. The end result was revealed at the launch of the book in Belfast this week. Without doubt, it's clear that the dairy queens [pictured above with George] did play a major role in fronting up the ambitions of the industry to the public. What is also clear is that in terms of articulacy and sharpness of wit, Dr George Chambers CBE, still remains one of the finest contributors to the dairy industry in the Province. Get yourself a copy of "Promoting Natural Goodness – the first 50 years of The Dairy Council in Northern Ireland" and see for yourself.

Finally, opinion is still sharply divided on my declared intention to buy a pleasure scooter this summer. My wife refuses to discuss the subject, while my children, more subtlety, have said that we'll all go down to the scooter shop; they'll take a picture of me sitting on one, and that'll be the end of the subject. But I've had strong encouragement from Ramsay, Dairy UK's external media adviser. No stranger to unconventional behavior himself. This is a man who as a release from the white hot pressures of political intrigue, started to learn to play the piano. The nearest analogy I can think of to that was Brian Moore doing ladies manicures. Anyway, he's promised that if I go ahead he will buy me a full leather jacket emblazoned with the words, "Born to be Wild – East Kilbride Chapter" on the back. Ok, Ramsay. Make it a parka, and it's a deal.

Friday, 7 May 2010

The main event for me in Brussels was my direct engagement with Jean Luc Demarty, Head of DG Agriculture at the European Commission. He spent 90 minutes answering questions on the High Level Experts' Group, from a small group of global policy makers and economists, and me!  I saw this as my best chance of working out whether the HLEG was a force for good or a force for evil. The good could come from the Euro wide adoption of what seems to me to be a fundamental entitlement of every farmer in the post-quota European Union, i.e. a contract with his buyer – whether co-op or plc.   The evil would come if he legislated on/or over-prescribed contracts which stopped dairy companies investing in dairy farms as an integral part of the development of the elite parts of these businesses. Or if he prescribed contracts which disincentivised dairy companies paying farmers premiums for security of supply.

Demarty clearly wants to help dairy farmers. So he should, if you believe that his Commission has pulled the rug from under them by removing quotas – an act which in the absence of contracts will increase their vulnerability. So I feel he thinks he can recompense farmers with a gentle handed quasi legislative approach. And of course the added bonus for him is that if every farmer has a contract, he has a mechanism for controlling EU milk supplies, just like quotas did, but without the expense to the Commission of providing buffer stocks to manage the volatility.

Farmers of course don't care about that. They simply want more money. But the lure for them in these proposals is controversial. The Commission believe that if every farmer has an unbudgeable contract which sets out in advance the price, volume and the minimum duration, then the industry's customers ie the supermarkets will be unable to pressure prices downwards through their suppliers. The theory would apply irrespective of whether their suppliers were co-ops or plc dairies.  So, do you agree with that? You can see where the gain would come, but is it deliverable in a world where global commodity prices (which eventually determine all milk prices) are set by market forces involving big players not party to any new EU arrangements?

For me, the objective of an integrated approach where farmers, processors and where possible, customers, combine together in long-term deals to add value and drive competitiveness should shape the Commission's policy. In my engagement with him Mr Demarty made it clear that that was his objective too. The question is how do you get there?

My EU colleagues in Brussels on Thursday were keen to solicit my views on how the outcome of the General Election would affect Europe. I told them, "Don't worry. By tomorrow night everything will be clear!" Today's coffee break discussion in the Dairy UK offices has therefore been how to put our situation now into music. Very soon the creative juices were flowing, and produced the following:

"Do you wanna be in my gang?" – Gary Glitter (Brown & Cameron to Clegg)

"Should I stay or should I go?" – The Clash (To the PM)

"You keep a knocking, but you can't come in" – Fats Domino (for those who were locked out of the polling station at 10 o'clock)

"Road to Nowhere" – Talking Heads

"Smile like you mean it" – The Killers (for them all)

""Red sails in the sunset" – Nat King Cole

What a crazy world. My Australian visitors to the UK this week are just flabbergasted at what they've seen, but it's to a media story today from New South Wales that I turn for a final observation. 'An Australian army vehicle worth $74,000 has gone missing after being painted with camouflage materials' Don't you just wish.

Friday, 30 April 2010

My pen is forcing its way listlessly across the paper this morning. I am blaming last night's Trehane Trust Dinner, which for me, in the dedicated line of duty, extended well into the small hours. I don't know how many people pass through Waterloo station each day, but this morning I managed to collide with all of them.

The dinner, masterfully orchestrated as ever by Simon the Pieman Bates, had several highlights. Notably, the seemingly successful attempt by Welsh gargantuan and new NFU Dairy Board supremo Mansel Raymond, to turn water into wine. I don't blame him for inadvertently topping up his wine glass with water; the two bottles were virtually identical! But when I observed him continue to consume the concoction with consummate pleasure, I made a mental note. In my dealings with this man in the future, always remember that he can perform miracles.

Of course, I had tried to use my extended session at The Chesterfield Hotel constructively. However, I failed completely in an attempt to persuade two of my colleagues to attend an important overseas meeting next week. Instead of me. So, I'll have to do it myself which will mean travelling on Bank Holiday Monday.............again! I'm not sure how I'm going to explain this to Mrs B. I know she reads this blog. It's the only way she can find out what I actually do. I think I'll just let her find out that way. Eh? What do you think? Yes, I think that's best. Why do the Continentals arrange meetings on British Bank Holiday weekends? I like to think it's not deliberate but I'm not so sure.

To make matters worse, the first thing I've had to deal with today is one of those e-mails, copied to the world, complaining about not having received a paper for a meeting, and concluding with the remark, "Have I missed something?" I mean, that is one of the great unanswerable questions in life – have I missed something? How the hell would anyone ever know? I'm surprised that you don't see that phrase on more tombstones!

For sure, no-one at the Trehane Dinner missed the message of young James Shanks Esq., a beguiling kilted Trehane farming Scholar who advised his audience that he expected in future to be making more money from selling renewable energy, than from farming. The difference, he said, would not just be thousands but potentially hundreds of thousands.

What confidence, coupled with ambition and real determination. And very timely because the industry has been reflecting this week on how our successful Milk Road Map will develop, and in particular how we can increase the use of renewable energy in our processes. At present, there is a very low utilisation but there is a growing awareness that the Government is determined to drive through a new approach. As an example, the DECC proposals for exorbitant new targets for the dairy sector under the Climate Change Agreement – which will be challenged by the industry – are clearly linked to the drive to increase the use of renewable sources of energy. So James Shanks' positive outlook demonstrating that there will be a financial benefit on farms is good news and a positive message for farmers. I'm told that the ladies in the audience thought that he had good knees for the kilt as well!!

Finally, I revert again to the Trehane Dinner for this week's most iconoclastic insight into the future. It came from another of my table companions, engaged professionally in public service. He wryly observed that "The biggest driver of the UK milk price this year will be how quickly the economy of Greece gets sorted". When you think about it, which of us would disagree with that?

Friday, 23 April 2010

Happy St George's day to everyone, although personally I've always felt that if the dragon had come from the Horse Shoe Bar in Glasgow instead of Mesopotamia, then it would have been a very different story. It‟s been a trying but pleasurable week for me in which my wife had her credit card stolen. I‟ve not reported it, because the burglar is spending less money than she does! 6 Along with all the country‟s milkmen I went to Haydock for the Doorstep Forum, and to find some clear air. At the very least it‟s a consolation that the volcanic ash that‟s over our heads is being refreshed on a daily basis from Iceland. That‟s much better than being suppressed by the mingin stuff that‟s been around since last week.

But what was going through your mind when you saw ex Food Standard Agency chair, now Civil Aviation Authority chair Dame Deirdre Hutton, come out on to the steps to tell the world that having closed British airspace, she was now re-opening it under broadly the same atmospheric conditions. I don‟t think they sell the Daily Telegraph as far North as Haydock, but I had imported a copy from the South. It was littered with the word "overreaction?‟ The FSA and the CAA are on the same street in London. For sure, I know they sell the Daily Telegraph there, I wonder if in the FSA they saw the word "overreaction‟ and linked it back to the fat, sugar and salt reduction policy thatDame Deirdre had instigated there. Over reaction? Who knows?

On the train back from Haydock I was flicking through DairyCo‟s excellent Intentions Survey and I found a big fact everyone else had missed. It seems that only 1% of dairy farmers consider Johne‟s Disease as a priority. I can tell you lads, that 100% of processors, vets and welfare advisors take a very different view. The next meeting of Dairy UK‟s Johne‟s Disease Action Team is next week. The Intentions Survey shows how important it is that they make rapid progress.

Later in the week I went to the brewing industry lunch organised by the excellent trade association the BFBI. What‟s the connection between brewing and milk? Lots of technology actually. Dairy UK is in fact holding a joint seminar with the BFBI on refrigeration in June. But it‟s troubled times for the brewers. The pubs are emptying while publicans are still getting blamed for the binge drinking, even though their customers are now what is called "front loading‟ on cheaper supermarket beers etc at home, before they go to the pub. Agriculture, I learn, is playing a part in their demise. I‟m told that because farming is a lonely occupation, farmers have always traditionally gone to pubs on Fridays to meet people and to find wives. But the emergence of texting has changed all this and they don‟t go to the pub now. I asked my pubs advisor at the lunch how they then now find wives? "They‟ve gone back to the old ways ", he said. "They put an advert in the paper saying wife wanted - Must have tractor. Send photo of the tractor". Nope, you cant beat the oldies.

Finally, my grateful thanks this week go to Fergus the Green for joining me in the middle of the night to operate the autocue for a live videolink presentation I gave to the Dairy Co-operative Leaders Forum for New Zealand and Australia in Melbourne. The pace of my presentation was totally dependent on Fergus‟s itching finger and he chose the occasion to have some really good fun. So we lurched back and forward from The March of The Hebrew Slaves to The Charge of The Light Brigade, and ended in a breathless crescendo that would not have embarrassed the Lone Ranger. Fergus offered as an explanation, the fact that we‟d renamed him "Skippy‟ for the evening (true!) and he was just trying to play to character. But I think really he‟s just missing his office soul mate Curly (see page 4). Well as we all know, there‟s always another day, and I‟ve offered to do the autocue for his next presentation. So far, he‟s declined. Hey ho! Onward Christian soldiers.

Friday, 16 April 2010

I was on about the last plane out of Heathrow to Brussels yesterday as the Icelandic volcanic ash began to occupy the air space above the UK. The ash was no problem for me; I'm used to working in a total fog, and I was pleased that in an instant the economics of the Scottish car wash industry were transformed.

On the plane I glanced through the initial press cuttings from our new Make Mine Milk campaign. It's clear that everyone likes Pixie a lott. However, I noticed that some farmers have queried whether Gordon Ramsay is right for the image of milk. Hmmmm! Just as well the ad agency didn't go for the slogan, "Make Mine F'n Milk", then wasn't it? Rightly or wrongly, bad boys create more interest and awareness than soft cuddly bunnies. Look at what Gwyn has done for the NFU. And of course, the start of the ad campaign is all about creating awareness. But you know, images are created by spin doctors; they may or may not reflect the real person. Interestingly, on the day of our launch I read that Gordon had sacked his long-standing PR company because he was unhappy with his bad image in the UK. So soon, Gordon might become an f'n angel. This will appease our concerned farmers but I wonder if it'll improve his marketability? Don't do it, Gordon. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

I was going to tell you now about an exciting new development on school milk but there's been a delay and we have to stay schtumm for the time being. The Queen Bee, who's involved, has been exasperated by the delay. "It's because of something called 'purdah'. What's 'purdah'?" she said. "Well it's a situation where people who have something to hide have a good excuse for not answering any questions," I told her. "You must have heard of the expression, 'getting away with purdah". "Shouldn't that be murdah?" she asked. "Yes, that's right. What did I say?" I replied.

Hopefully more on school milk soon, but instead what I can tell you is that we are now going to withdraw the health claims on dairy submitted by Defra on our behalf to the European Food Safety Authority. To be more precise, we are going to withdraw the food claims (eg dairy and dental health) submitted under Article 13.1 of the regulation, where the flawed adjudication process almost by definition makes them impossible to accept. We shall re-submit them under Article 13.5 of the regulation in a different format where the process is clearer and gives us a better chance of success. You might have observed yesterday that the French company, Danone, did the same thing with their product Actimel.

We do this with lots of regret but it's in our best long-term interests as an industry. We believe that other dairy industries elsewhere in the EU will do as we are doing, and we are working now to deliver this. We'll let you know what happens. However, for me it just goes to illustrate again the veracity of a business principle that I've been applying all my working life – the shortest distance between two points is seldom a straight line.

Huge posters of Pixie and Gordon are now hanging from the ceiling in our office. I won the toss to decide which picture faces who in the office so obviously I now sit and stare at Pixie all day while Jess, our receptionist, who sits across from me in the office, is now looking at Gordon. I could see she was distressed about this. "He's looking at me all day", she said. "I find him scary." "What? Scarier than looking at me all day?" I said. Her lips moved but no words came out. Eventually she spluttered out the following, "Well when you put it like that, I suppose the corners of his mouth do curl up quite appealingly." It just goes to show that in the modern world of volcanic eruptions, everything is relative.

Friday, 9 April, 2010

Do you remember the song Misty? Well in the absence of Johnny Mathis, it was Malthusian Pete who spelled out the Dairy UK position at the Defra stakeholders meeting on farmer contracts this week. So when he spoke, did a thousand violins begin to play?

Defra had engaged the English Farming and Food Partnership (EFFP) to survey stakeholders on milk contracts. To no-one's surprise, there is a wide consensus on virtually everything, except for one point. Should a farmer be allowed to break his contract when there's a price change? The farmers' view expressed by the NFU is 'yes'.

As you know, my personal mantra is always to 'give every man thine ear, but few thy voice'. So I make only one comment on this. Processors pay premiums for security of supply. In a post quota regime, why would processors pay premiums for no security of supply? They pay those premiums because they can get specific business advantages from securing supply from specific groups of producers. This segregates the milk pool and stops milk being a single undifferentiated commodity, which is the source of all the economic problems farmers face in the supply chain. So, who would suffer most if purchasers couldn't securely build value through differentiating raw milk? Oh, and while I'm at it, perhaps just a short second comment. The farm contracts in the UK are more advanced in farmers interests than in any other deregulated market in the world. If anyone can prove me wrong, I'm here to listen.

Next week sees the launch in the UK of the £7.5m Make Mine Milk focused marketing campaign, initially starring bad, bad boy Gordon Ramsay, and the sweet little angel of mercy, songbird, Pixie Lott. This is a cause for celebration, because it registers another tick in the box of characteristics which you expect from properly functioning markets. It is a direct investment by British dairy processors and the European Commission, but it will benefit everyone. It will underpin the health and wellness value of milk, and this will be so important in the political climate ahead of us. But will it also deliver a pot of gold at the end of this three year rainbow? Well the industry marketers have travelled to the rainbow's end to have a look, and the gold is definitely there. All that's needed is their creative skill and judgement to unlock the crystal maze. Go to it guys, we're all behind you.

Finally, the question has to be asked, is Paolo Nutini now the greatest living Scotsman? And on that basis alone, should he be fronting the Make Mine Milk campaign further down the line? As I watched him perform last night at the Royal Albert Hall, I thought that his naturally curled up body and almost twisted upside down posture would look perfect on the T-panel on a double-decker bus. And these pointed elfin will o' the wisp feet! Surely he'd be just as good as Pixie at delivering the 'elf' message. As you watch him perform, you are regularly struck by the thought that this is a man, well familiar with the white stuff. Coincidentally, I happened to be at the RAH with the Great Alexander, who is also of course the leader of the Make Mine Milk campaign orchestra. I turned to share my thoughts with him, only to find him doubled over in a Nutiniesqe posture, performing at the top of his voice (and of his range) "Just give me some Candy...before I go". I decided to save my opinions for the next committee meeting. Some guys will do anything for a bag of sweeties!

Thursday, 1 April 2010

Ah well, spring is here and we're all busy filling up our nut sacks so that the feathered friends who visit our gardens don't go hungry. We used to have a lovely pair of greenfinches visit our garden in Surrey until our cat mistook them for Celtic supporters and ate them! It's all part of life's rich tapestry, I suppose.

Of course, as every Scotsman knows, as soon as you see a lamb in the field, you dive for your duffle coat, because you know that the "lambing snow" is not far off. So it was then that relatives of mine returning to the Isle of Lewis for Easter spent an extended night on a train from Edinburgh to Inverness which got stuck in a snowdrift and had to be rescued. As you know, my approach to life is always 'glass half full', so I can positively assure them that they won't get stuck on a train on their return next week... because there won't be any trains next week!

As it happens civil disruption is uppermost in the minds of all Dairy UK staff today on the eve of Good Friday. For 24 hours we have had no e-mail, internet or telephone systems in the office – struck into somnolence along with most of North London – by a fire at the BT connection office at Paddington. For some this is a curse, for others, a blessing. Fergus the Green keeps looking at his Blackberry, praying that it'll jump into action. For me, it's given me some time to consider the chocolate Easter bunny sitting in front of me on my desk. I'm about to sink my teeth into its rear end.

I'm never very sure about which days around Easter you are supposed to eat your chocolate egg. However, my urgency is driven by the fact that the Queen Bee is a chocolate fanatic who has given up eating chocolate for Lent. So I want to make significant inroads into my bunny before she re-enters the field. I notice from the packing that my chocolate bunny is called Molly and she has a Union Jack on her side. I also notice that she is made from "our exclusive British extra chocolately milk chocolate", so clearly Molly is a British bunny. Now I happen to know for reasons which will become clear, that the laws on labelling allow you to claim a country of origin on your packaging as long as you are not misleading consumers if the main ingredient of the product is from somewhere else. So, what's the main ingredient of a chocolate bunny? Chocolate? And what's the main ingredient of chocolate? Cocoa beans? So presumably Molly has been made from the fruit of the vast cocoa plantations in Dorset and Somersetshire?

Country of origin labelling has become everybody's cause célèbre. Politicians, farmers, trade associations everywhere (including Dairy UK) have it in their political manifestos. And it's all based on provenance. The research from the Food Standards Agency in the UK says that national provenance is not a driver of consumption. The research conducted by everyone else says it is. So, from a marketing point of view, UK food companies want to show UK consumers that they produce wonderful products, and that they come from their patch! That is of course until they want to market their products to say French consumers. In this case it's not because their products are from the UK, this time it's because they're simply wonderful.

Defining country of origin is a minefield. How do you do it? Is it right that products from the Republic of Ireland can be described as from the British Isles? Or that Dutch milk turned into cheese in Belgium and aged in France can be called French cheese? What is the main ingredient of a pizza? Have you ever seen a pizza described as, say, Welsh? Farmers say that it should be the country where the animals are reared, but you can't even begin to imagine the complications of that. Most would agree that the point of manufacture, not the point of packaging is a good start. But why should it not be the point of packaging? Presumably one of the reasons that consumers value provenance is because by consuming "local" products they are supporting local jobs, and local packaging provides local jobs – yes?

In Dairy UK, we are in the middle of our analysis of this subject, because we believe in the concept, and we are proud of our products. However it may take us a little while. I'm off to Amsterdam at the weekend. I'll be checking every mouse on every stair to see where their clogs come from. I bet they all carry a Dutch flag, and I bet also that they're all produced in China.

Meanwhile, I've stripped Molly's packaging and I discover that she's not a bunny, she's actually a cow. That's a bit of a surprise but not a problem. The greater need is to get moving ahead of the Queen Bee. Hmm, I think I'll start with the rump!!

Friday, 26 March 2010

I'm writing this in the vast amphitheatre of the EU Council's Charlemagne building in Brussels, where the output of the Commission's High Level Group on Dairy is being conveyed to the European industry at a conference entitled What Future for Milk? Around 500 people will be in the room when the meeting begins shortly. The possible exception will be our venerable UK quota agent, Harry. Last night at dinner I was privileged to be able to give Harry's wife advice on where to find the best prices for Prada handbags in Brussels'. Harry is so worried about this that he may give the conference a miss.

I've been mulling around talking to my European colleagues trying to find out if this event is real or just political window dressing. All of us have been examining the issues for months but everyone is still in the dark. A Dutch colleague summed it up best. "We are still confused," he said, "albeit it at a higher level."

Some light relief is afforded as three Irish colleagues move in next to me. They realise too late that they've sat next to a Scotsman and they stoically prepare themselves for 10 minutes of unrelenting wind up about rugby. They take it in the neck and vanish for a coffee at the first possible opportunity. The room is filling up. I'm struck by the number of foreign delegates wearing Proud of Dairy badges. I reflect that the badge is much more popular and valued outside the UK than inside; I wonder why. The great Torsten Hemme, of the IFCN advances. "I want more Proud of Dairy badges, Jim," he says. "I want more IFCN reports Torsten," I reply. We do a deal. Four IFCN reports for one Proud of Dairy badge. I resolve to go back to negotiation school.

I'm trying to push ahead with this blog but people keep coming up to me. A leading British retailer stops for a chat and we discuss Nocton. "No problem for us," he says, "as long as they hit the right animal welfare notes." Phew, that's a relief, I think. Several overseas colleagues talk to me about comments I've made at the Commission's Dairy Consultative meeting the previous day on health claims. I still believe that people don't realise the potential seriousness of this issue for the future integrity of dairy products – including within the EDA. It's clear that people were impressed by my comments, not so much by what I said, but that I managed to use the words epidemiological and pharmacological in the same sentence without getting my tongue stuck to the microphone.

New Farm Commissioner, Dacian Cioloş, opens the meeting and sets the tone. In doing so reveals his hand. "We're not changing direction, quotas are still going and farmers need to get used to operating in free markets. However, we need to improve the markets by improving the bargaining power of farmers. We must also respect competition policy and I'm going to talk to the Competition Commissioner about what's possible. Possibly, derogations for dairy farmers; possibly a greater role for producer organisations, possibly with larger shares. I mean it and I won't wait for the CAP Reform process to deliver. I'll tell you what I've decided in June."

The economists roll out positive demand and market projections for the future. The Commission economist says fewer and fewer countries now rely on quotas for production decisions and quota values are falling everywhere. There's a commotion beside me. It's Harry. He's banging his head on the table. I wonder if his wife has bought her new Prada handbag yet. The chat round the coffee machine is that the economists are buying into optimism on too little information.

As the details of the consensus of the HLG so far are drip fed out to the Assembly, I sense that the appreciation amongst the audience that supply arrangements could change as a result of this exercise, increases. In the crucial areas of contracts and the ability of producers to have greater power in the determination of milk prices, things could change. Of course, it's early days and the HLG is not the EU Council of Ministers, but even on issues such as should price negotiating producer organisations be outside competition law, it's clear that there is a dominant wave of member state opinion in favour.

As I look into Harry's eyes, I see new opportunities for middle men in the new scenario float across his mind. I stay silent. I don't want to disillusion him. After all, in about two hours, he's about to find out how badly his bank balance has been depleted.

Friday, 19 March 2010

For me, St Patrick's Day is one of the world's greatest public celebrations. And when they give out vouchers for free pints of Guinness at Paddington station in the morning, how can anyone not possibly join in?

I'm writing this in Dawson Street in Dublin on Friday afternoon, where St Patrick's Day is still continuing unabated. I've just tripped over a guy who's been regaling me with his own personal collection of Irish proverbs. "When you think you're at the bottom", he said, "you can still have a hell of a long way to fall." Hmm, I thought. Good advice for Martin Johnson.

Now, as we all know, when Irish eyes are smiling, all the world is bright and gay. However, Dawson Street is where all the men go while their wives are shopping in nearby Grafton Street, so there are always a few worried expressions around. But I detect a different atmosphere here, this time. The shops are quieter, the taxi queues are shorter, and the eyes are displaying only around 35 of their normal 40 shades of green. Indeed I'm reminded a little of when we used to come here before Ireland was a member of the EU, when the young people used to cluster round you hoping to find contacts which might lead to jobs in the UK. It's nothing like as bad as that now, but I sense that this city has been hit by the recession much more than most.

I spent the real St Patrick's Day at the Agra Europe Outlook 2010 conference in London. There were no Irish there, they were all at Cheltenham, but I still learned a lot. I learned about the almost straight correlation between the decline in beef consumption and the timing of the various disease scares that have hit this industry in the last 10 years. I shifted uncomfortably at that. I also learned that in terms of feeding the world in future, 23% of the responsibility would fall to the developed world and 77% of it would rest with the developing world (FAO). The good news is that in the developing world, the technology exists now to generate the necessary yield improvements to do it. The bad news is that they have to implement the technology.

I did the teaching on the dairy sector. But I'm always conscious when I talk to an audience of agricultural generalists that they find the dairy regime and its pricing mechanism unbelievably complicated. Perhaps that's why we get so much irrational comment about dairy in the media. We don't explain clearly enough how it works. However, mindful that the entire EU dairy apparatchik world will be in Brussels next Friday (26 March) to hear the outcome of the High Level Experts Group thinking so far, I focused on that in as simple terms as possible. I explained that the Commission, prompted by the French Government, had got cold feet about surrendering the EU dairy industry to a free market without quotas and had hit on the scam of getting the dairy companies through their contracts with farmers to effectively balance milk supplies to the market. Sounds sensible, and cheap too for the Commission, what with the Budget coming up for review and all that. So, we may well see guidance on contracts emerging as an outcome.

No real problem with that as long as it's restricted to making sure that a contract exists (they don't in many EU countries) and the general areas the contract should cover. Anything further such as interfering with the contract terms, how long a time a price should apply for example, then the potential for disaster opens up. I sense that some EU farmer organisations are hoping that the Commission will recommend a more specific contract prescription. But I don't think that's the intention. No-one would thank them for prescribing contracts that would see dairy farmers lose their supply premiums. Of course Europe's approach to dairy and competition law in the High Level Experts Group is quite another thing. We'll find out more about the intentions there next Friday.

Coincidentally, while I was addressing the audience on the subject of milk quotas, I was aware that there was a horse running at Cheltenham called "Quantitative Easing". Honestly. I checked to see if the jockey was called Mariann Fischer Boel, but it wasn't. In the same race, (the 4 o'clock), another horse called "Wishful Thinking" looked a better bet to me. In the event, both lost but in the Cheltenham Gold Cup this afternoon Imperial Commander didn't, and I had a small investment on that. So the drinks are now on me. I'm in the Madhatter's Café. Come and join me. I suppose I'll be here all night.

Friday, 12 March 2010

I'm not going to go on about Nocton this week ....... not much that is.  Next week is the local planning meeting. I hear that it's going to be televised by the BBC's Countryfile programme. So, I expect to see Julia Bradbury wearing her Dairy Fairy outfit she donned for the Smile for Dairy campaign. One wave of her magic wand and everything will be alright. She should wave her magic wand over Labour MP David Drew as well. This week he tabled a Parliamentary Question to Hilary Benn suggesting that farms should have a maximum number of milking cows by law. Come on, David, how much inefficiency do you want to build into the British farming system? Haven't you heard that soon our dairy farmers are going to be in an even more liberalised market where competitiveness will be vital. They have to take investment decisions now to prepare for that. As an MP, you don't need to intervene, especially if you want to put a stranglehold on growth.    The market will decide what forms of farming are acceptable to consumers. We just need to make sure that the market has the true story.

I'm speaking at the big hoi polloi Agra Informa Outlook Conference in London next week. On this occasion, I'll be the voice of the whole EU dairy industry in giving the form report on our sector.  Since there will be a lot of non-Scottish speakers there, I'll have to practice my best Kelvinside posh accent over the weekend and try to remember not to say things like, Och and Aye. Over the years I've had a good relationship with Agra Informa and its father Agra Europe – I pay them stacks of money each year, and they print my comments with the words in the order that I actually say them.  That's what you call trust. The AI editor, Chris Horseman, is a man apart. He'll be chairing my session. He said to me, "Jim, do you believe in free speech?"  I said, "of course". He said, "Good, that'll take care of your fee then!".  This conference has all the big powerful EU decision makers on the platform, including Lars Hoelgaard from the European Commission, Palo de Castro MEP from the European Parliament, and Anastassios Haniotis, DG Agriculture and Rural Development, from the Commission. All legends in their own lifetime........and if you are in the UK dairy industry, have you heard of any of them?  I'll bet you haven't.  And yet, these people are making decisions on a daily basis (ok, ok, that's stretching it a bit) that affect the future profitability of our industry – and they have done for years. So, if you as a dairy farmer, say, are not happy with your lot, those people will have had much to do with it. But I doubt if I'll know more than a handful of people in the audience – which ever more significantly, will be full of people who make financial judgements about our industry, including city analysts and fund managers. Wake up to Europe is my message to you. It's still the place that determines the infrastructure for our industry, and to that extent, it can enlarge or contract margins. At the conference, my doctrine for the future will be unchanged: rationalise – research – brand. If there's anything else you want me to say, let me know before Wednesday.

I'm breaking the habit of a lifetime by writing this blog on a Thursday, so if anything has happened on Friday, I apologise for not including it. I'm off to Scotland on Friday for the Calcutta Cup – where I hope after the game to be in a position to offer psychological help and guidance to wee Mattie from Defra, that is if they let him through Passport Control at the Scottish border. I wonder if I'm getting too old for rugby weekends. The "good taste" editor of this blog, Simon the Pieman Bates, gave up years ago, and as an England fan, he got to see the odd victory.   And of course, the wives of my circle of friends now refuse to join us.  For some reason they find being squashed like lemons in bars for six hours unpleasant. They say controversial things like "Let's find a restaurant". So, my friends and I have found a new solution. We take our daughters to the games instead of our wives. They are all twenty something and I find at that time of life, they are remarkably free from the conventions and behavioural patterns that in other situations we find so charming and appealing in their mothers.  So, here we go again, as they say. In the famous words of the sadly departed but never forgotten Elvis "The Pelvis" Presley, "Don't push me ... I'm a grease monkey that won't slide so easily". [Editor's comment: He's right you know, Elvis did come out with this memorable line in the 1962 movie Kid Galahad, a remake of the 1937 drama of the same name starring Edward G Robinson and Humphrey Bogart]

Friday, 5 March 2010

Yip, it's been a rough old week. You get them, don't you? Nothing works. Everybody's wrong. You're late for everything. No-one listens. No windows get opened and others get closed. At the low point of my week, I looked in the mirror and I'm sure I saw Tony Mowbray looking back at me. Jings! What a fright I got. When you have weeks like that, the solution is always to buy new shoes. That always makes you feel better. I didn't. I bought a shirt.

When I opened it, I discovered it had no top pocket. For me, and all men, that's a hanging offence. Not so long ago in Australia, there was civil unrest when the shirt makers went from two top pockets to one. They eventually had to climb down. Worse still, the shirt had three buttons on each cuff. Three flipping buttons I ask you! It's difficult enough for me in the morning to get any buttons into the right button holes at all, never mind three buttons in each cuff. I've had to arrange to tell Fiona about the days that I'm going to wear that shirt so she knows I'll be on the late train.

It was a rough old week for the innovators of Nocton Dairies too, except that they didn't deserve it. For me, a proposal to spend £40m on a farm should give everyone a confidence boosting shot in the arm, but instead it put the spotlight on the animal welfare practices of the whole industry. Nowadays, it appears that it's not enough to satisfy the technical experts when you choose to introduce innovative production techniques. You have to convince The Daily Mail as well, and, regrettably from our point of view, we started from a position of defence, as the animal rights campaigners were presented with a hook, from which to hang us out to dry. So, when the extensive media skirmishes took place, we had to field the equivalent of John Terry, albeit armed with a superb retinue of answers, but the animal rights campaigners had Wayne Rooney posing the questions. If you were an investigative journalist, whose performance would you be most interested in?

The issue is not about Nocton. It goes way beyond that. It's about the industry's ability to convince the general public, via The Daily Mail or whatever, to accept technological developments in farm production techniques. Our future competitiveness is going to depend on our ability to do this, because consumer resistance to developments such as genetic modification in other countries is significantly less than in ours. So, consumer education is an absolute priority, and this will take resource. Because, as we all know in the industry, there has to be more to come in terms of the way milk is produced, and the kind of milk which is produced in the future. There are simply some aspects of farm production which need more explaining to consumers than others. And that responsibility must rest with dairy companies as much as with farmers. It's the reaction of their customers after all which counts most. Zero grazing is one issue; producing milk without grass is another. We know that world-class animal welfare standards are not prejudiced by these systems but we all have to work harder to convince the public.

The next pressure will come at the Nocton planning meeting; beware the Ides of March is my message (well, it's not my original message, it's been used by bloggers in the past). By then I'll have bought some new shoes. This is a Journey and we "just can't stop believin'".

Finally, it was good to see Farm Minister Jim Fitzpatrick wearing his Proud of Dairy badge at the Dairy Supply Chain Forum meeting in London this week. Jim's snappy suits certainly make him the best dressed Farm Minister we've had for years, but he recognises, like so many, that there is no suit ever produced that cannot be significantly enhanced with a Proud of Dairy badge on the lapel. Jim tells me that his secretary keeps a stock of them in his drawer in case he forgets to change his badge when he changes his suit. I'm just impressed that he's got more than one suit. This weekend, a major global dairy company is having an "away day" for their senior executives. All of them will be wearing Proud of Dairy badges, supplied at their request by Dairy UK. However, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and one of my Scottish colleagues recently described the badge to me as a "black splodge". This week, for some reason, he went to Wembley to see the football. He had to sit and politely watch England thrash Egypt. That's what I call divine retribution.

Friday, 26 February 2010

There was a time when feeding the world took just five loaves and two fish. Now we depend on farmers. Illustrating this point, the bowl of potatoes that came around at the NFU conference dinner this week only got two thirds of the way round the table before it was empty. Poor Ken Boyns, unfortunately positioned at the wrong end of the table, got the food security message right between the eyes. I glanced over at the "well fed" side of the table. Predictably, large quantities of potatoes were uneaten. So in the microcosm of the Hilton Metropole Hotel in Birmingham, the global dilemmas of food waste and food security were neatly encapsulated.

The NFU conference has completely changed its personality. We used to listen to some of the finest firebrands in the country, bellowing rhetoric about unfairness and defiance. The only prop involved was a soap box, and politicians and people like me had the fear of death put into them. Now it's like spending a couple of days in a health spa. The Queen Bee gets a rougher ride having her monthly facial. These days, we listen to professors and academics with serious and worried expressions on their faces, talking about things like sustainable biomass and carbon sequestration and abatement potential. And yet, at the same time, farmers fear the drift of financial support in the EU from Pillar One to Pillar Two. Heavens above, guys, if you want to put the kybosh on Pillar Two, stop taking about it so much.

I think the politicians who inhabit the conference platform panels now view it as a relaxing afternoon off. One session was invigilated by the broadcaster, Edward Stourton. Charm, wit and sophistication ooze from this man, but what we really needed was a demented Rottweiler on ecstasy. Food Minister Jim Fitzpatrick even walked off half way through, albeit with a pre-notified excuse. I couldn't quite hear what it was - something to do with a manicure appointment, but I could have been wrong. Before he left, he told the audience that he wouldn't cull badgers; that he would continue to fight relentlessly; and that he would pursue a liberalisation and environmentally-driven agenda; less the Germans, French and Dutch would continue to isolate him, he had some mates in Eastern Europe that he would muster. Everyone smiled in acceptance, and clapped him off the stage. Crivens, in the old days, they would have manacled him to the chair, while they chewed him up and spat him out in bits.

Great credit has to go to Shadow Tory Farm Minister, James Paice, for trying to re-establish the focus. James often appears doleful and sanguine, but he unquestionably understands farming as well as any Westminster MP. He repeatedly told the conference that the countryside is for producing food – get your attention on that first. His view was supported by Professor Chris Pollock, a bearded Welsh-based intellectual, with an acerbic wit. With masterful control of the pause, he gripped the audience with a prophetic warning: "go too green, too fast and you won't have enough land to produce the food". Too right mate, and so say all of us.

Will the election of Gwyn Jones to the NFU front line change the style and culture of the organisation? HQ will say no. But this column says you can bet your bottom dollar it will. Gwyn only got the junior position, but that won't make a whit of a difference to him. I predict that before long, the meetings of the NFU office bearers will be virtually indistinguishable from a performance by the Beastie Boys, and the economists and soothsayers, like young Hindy, will be back up on the conference platforms, doling out spoonfuls of statistical invective to feed the fervour of the delegates on the floor. And not before time, in my view. I can hardly wait.

As I pen this blog, the Queen Bee and her colleagues all over the EU are poring over the second tranche of Health Claims adjudications form the European Food Safety Agency (EFSA). At first glance, there looks to be nothing for or against dairy in this latest batch, so again, we breathe a sigh of relief. But be assured, our day will come. In the latest batch, 408 potential claims were rejected and only eight accepted, and again, the main reason for objection was that the scientific evidence didn't sufficiently characterise the product. For me, this is a clear manifestation of the flaws in the process adopted by EFSA to evaluate the science (combining more than 44,000 claims down to around 4,000 to make the process easier to manage). Surely someone at the European Commission will wake up to this folly soon. It's making a mockery of EU legislation and a mockery of the EU scientific community.

Friday, 19 February 2010

Each table at the Provision Trade Federation dinner this week was requested to enter a competition to guess how many calories were in the meal. My table contained the cognoscenti of the world of farming, food production, publishing, and, significantly, a representative from the organisation which aspires to be the one stop shop on food information in the UK.

My mate Gav from Defra was there. For many years Gav has been one of Defra's brightest stars. I've always trusted his judgement implicitly... apart from the fact that he's a devoted Hibs fan. I lost sympathy for the Hibees in 1978 after buying a Scotch pie at Easter Road. From the outside, it was of Desperate Dan dimensions. But inside it was quarter inch of filling and two and a half inches of air. Once you'd squashed it down to deflate it, you could have slid it under the door like a chapatti. However, Gav would know about calories. On the night we had a collective brain freeze (aka the Millennium Stadium). Our answer was wrong by a factor of 100%. I looked at Gav. He said he forgot to include the roll and butter. I think he must have had about six on the night!

When you go to bed after a PTF dinner, it's always the same. You set your alarm clock, say goodnight to your teddy bear, put your head on the pillow, and bang... instantly your alarm clock goes off! Have you been there? The worry for me was that I was chairing and speaking at the World Dairy Forum conference in London. It's a great privilege to chair and speak at a conference. From the chair, I was able to give myself a fantastic introduction. From the platform there was no-one in the chair to stop me going on forever, although out of respect for the audience I gave myself a five-minute warning. Afterwards, from the chair, I asked myself a series of deep and penetrating questions, to which from the platform I gave clear, concise, and visionary answers. In summing up from the chair, I thanked myself on the platform for adding a dimension to the subject and providing a clear and focused insight into the future. Yip, multitasking is not an easy skill to master, but I found it an absolute pleasure.

What I learned from the World Dairy Forum was that if we are really serious about the sustainability of this great industry of ours, then the answer lies emphatically in research and development. In one of the question and answer sessions, I had on my left a dairyman from Spain successfully developing functional dairy products for children, and on my right, a man from Unilever developing weight-reduction products. I asked both what percentage of their turnover they spent on research and development. Diego from Puleva said 9%, Sergei from Unilever said around 7%. Now what do you think the average UK dairy industry figure would be? There was a charming lady form Benecol speaking. Her company already has EU article 14 approval allowing them to claim that Benecol products could lower cholesterol and were therefore good for the heart. She said that this was the pay-off for a 20-year investment in research and development. She, like the rest of us, will be waiting with interest for the outcome next week of the dairy health claim applications. I fear then that we may see the benefit of 20-years of intensive political lobbying by the competitors of dairy products.

Dairy companies and organisations such as DairyCo for farmers have a sustainability imperative to maintain high levels of R&D for the future. But there is also a collective responsibility on the world's Dairy Councils, and similar bodies, to develop and share the costs of pre-competitive scientific research – at a much faster rate than we are doing now. Next week, the world's leading nutritional dairy scientists are in the Dairy UK office at a meeting organised by the Global Dairy Platform. Unfortunately I won't be there (Gwyn needs me at the NFU conference to support his aspirations for elevation to high office), but I'll be leaving copies of the newsletter on all the seats. I hope they read them.

Friday, 12 February 2010

I've been paying a lot of attention this week to 16 to 24 year old women (easy, Jo, easy). In fact, this is the target demographic for the industry's new super flash focused marketing campaign on liquid milk and I was participating in the selection of celebrities to front it. I say participating, but spectating was closer to the truth – particularly when one of my co-selectors publicly proffered the view that she found it hard to understand how men in their 50s could possibly appreciate what would appeal to 16 to 24 year old women. Well, Hugh Hefner I am not, but I live with two young women in this age bracket and I know exactly what appeals to them because I see it every month in my bank statement!

Fortunately, one person who does have a good appreciation of the behaviour of young women is Dr Alison Tedstone of the Food Standards Agency (and also the Secretary of the Scientific Advisory Committee on Nutrition), who this week chose the columns of the Daily Mail to reveal to the nation that one of the reasons why teenage girls in the UK had such bad diets was because they didn't consume enough dairy. Well, so say all of us, Alison – on two fronts. First, because we agree that this revelation is shocking, and second, that the FSA is prepared to stand up publicly and support milk.

Alison was commenting on the publication of the statistics on the National Diet and Nutrition Survey - a survey which was last published 10 years ago. But the statistics have put the Queen Bee into a frenzy because they show a decline in milk consumption at the same time as a significant drop in the proportion of teenage girls who don't consume enough calcium. Hold on. How can that be? Dairy is the biggest source of calcium in the diet, so what's going on there? The matter is now under QB investigation, (hint: look at the consumption of smoothie-type drinks, lattes etc for hidden dairy) and we'll report back, but clearly the sooner that the nation's poster sites are emblazoned with milk celebrities appealing to teenagers and young women, the better. The campaign is due to start in early April.

I'm off to the Millennium Stadium this weekend to watch Scotland trounce the taffs at rugby. Our manager has rightly insisted that they keep the stadium roof open during the game because I've noticed in the past that that roof is capable of spraying down a fine mist of debilitating dust which lands on everyone except the Welsh players. But I don't want to dwell on this too much because it's been another bad week for the sons of Llewellyn. I had to console Dairy UK's Treasurer Roger Evans, strangely not because of the defeat or the now infamous "trip" by Alun-Wyn Jones at Twickers last weekend (how could a man who spends half his life trying to trip up the English complain about such a perfect demonstration of the art) but because he couldn't get out of the stadium car park for two-and-a-half hours. Then there was poor Welshie from Defra. She tried to buy a Wales top to wear for the match but she was told by the shop assistant that they "didn't sell club shirts".

I next spotted Welshie in the public gallery at the latest EFRA hearing on the collapse of Dairy Farmers of Britain, starring ex-CEO 'Magic Malcolm Smith'. I was watching Parliamentary TV and, as the session wore on, my 3D glasses nearly fell off as the personal retribution count mounted. I am delighted that this was the end of possibly the most useless waste of Select Committee time ever. The fact that it has dragged on relentlessly for months, allowing all sorts of slurs and allegations to be publicly aired, is shameful. I support the principle of Parliamentary privilege but this was an abuse beyond approbation. The often repeated justification that the inquiry was intended to throw positive light for the future was always going to be sidetracked. It could only be of interest to the industry jackals who revel in recrimination and finger pointing. It's time to forget it and move on.

Friday, 5 February 2010

As you hear the damning collection of stories this week about the societal breakdown of the UK (John Terry, Avron Grant, MPs' expenses, Chilcot Inquiry etc etc) have you stood back, looked at yourself in the mirror and asked the question: am I part of this? Have I contributed to this? This week, the Begg household was shaken to the core whilst talking about the ban on wearing pyjamas at Tesco in Cardiff. One of my daughters casually revealed that it had been her local shop when she was at university in Cardiff and that when she visited it, she more often wore pyjamas than not. She said the whole of Wales does that. Eh? What? This was a crisis. I summoned my wife from the West Wing to discuss where we'd gone wrong as parents. I mean, I remember arriving unannounced at her flat once to find her in a Welsh rugby top. I'd been worried about that, but I'd taken the view that it could have been much worse! But this? We're still in shock, and her sisters won't go out in the street. This weekend we're going to a social event in London which will include watching the England v Wales rugby match. Welshie from Defra will be there. I wonder if she'll be wearing her pyjamas?

In a week of shocks, I went to Belfast. The staff at my hotel were having their Christmas party. What a topsy turvy world. I'd gone there for dinner with Roary, erstwhile Scots MEP George Lyon. Now Roary has found himself as rapporteur of the EU Parliament's Agriculture Committee and he's writing the Parliament's post EU budget CAP reform paper - the most important paper affecting the future of European dairy farmers for years. But in one of my Terry Pratchett moments I had forgotten that in a previous life Roary had been the President of the Scottish NFU. He spotted me as soon as he came into the room, came straight over and said, "Hey, you still owe me a quid for a bet we had on an Old Firm match in 1998". I had to cough up, leaving me unable to buy any drinks for the rest of the evening. I thought to myself, this is the right man to look after the EU budget – every pound's a prisoner. I must make sure Roary never meets Roger Evans, the Dairy UK Treasurer.

Now, I've always believed that the farmer and the cowman should be friends. You know, territory folk should stick together, territory folk should all be pals. Right? Well yes, until it comes to sharing out the spoils in the EU budget, and then it's er, tricky! Should there be less money or should the member states be made to chip in. Should it be shifted to rural development or should it stay with the single farm payment. If it does, should the money go to active or inactive farmers, big or small, old or young? Should the payments be area-based or historic? Should it all be agreed centrally or delegated to member states to decide, or even to regions of member states? Should it be spent on food production or on the environment? And above all, should the SFP be weighted as it is now to the big boys club, which includes France, Germany, the Netherlands and the UK, or should it go to the new member states in the east? This is what the new EU Commissioner Mr Cioloş (from Romania) allegedly wants. The farmers at the dinner were a bit worried about that. On a per hectare basis, Northern Ireland is one of the biggest recipients of the SFP. They don't want Roary to be doing things to please the new Commissioner.

But the CAP reform paper post-EU budget, I mean how complicated can that be? Roary will undoubtedly need a sharp pencil. If I was him, I'd go for simplicity – just like Henry Longhurst, who once reduced the complexities of golf to a few words "Put the ball in front of your feet, wiggle about until you're comfortable, then hit it". I'd start with two basic principles. First, the CAP is there to provide an economic return to dairy farmers. Second, the prime reason for the countryside is the production of food. After that, everything falls into place.

The priority for the EU dairy farmer is to survive the market volatility which is the downside of deregulation. So, forget about fancy risk management tools and go for intervention at the bottom of the market, and the sensible use of intervention stocks at the top. This will instil stability which in turn will build up confidence and help investment planning. As a buy low, sell high system, it shouldn't affect the SFP, as in theory such it could earn money for the EU, or at least be close to budget neutral over any price cycle. And when you're forming the soup queue, Roary, put the active farmers at the front, and the young ones in speedy boarding. But above all, don't show your hand too early. I remember talking to big Franz Fischler, who was the Commissioner who delivered the Agenda 2000 deal. The Agenda 2000 reform was supposed to smooth the way for a WTO deal, and he wanted to decouple everything from everything in advance. I said to him, "Why not wait and give it away during the WTO talks? That way you won't give away too much." He said, "Because they'll never be another CAP reform after this. There will be no political will to do it again. So I have to do it now." Thanks, Franz. I trust your new career as a racing tipster is going well. So, anticipate nothing in advance from the budget talks, Roary.

Friday 29 January 2010

At Dairy UK we are never too proud to take the world's best practice and implement it "chez nous". Moreover, innovation is our driving motivation. So this week we've decided to move on from our ritualistic "Celtic Huddle" which starts each day at the office. Instead we're going to adopt Andy Murray's full jawed guttural primal scream. Ed Komorowski trailblazed our new policy at the Dairy UK Johne's disease meeting this week, and I'm told it went well, with only the nice lady from the NFU perhaps feeling a little threatened. Look out for more of this at meetings attended by Dairy UK staff in future. It's the new means of identifying winners.

I missed the Johne's meeting, having been delayed on my return from the highly successful DairyCo pre-board meeting dinner. DairyCo have to be applauded for inviting a gaggle of noted industry heroes and villains (depending on your perspective) to join them for supper. Was there a sub-plot? If so, I couldn't detect it, and an atmosphere of gregarious bonhomie prevailed. I only hope the board meeting itself the next day was as successful. I suggested to the DairyCo Chairman that in situations where pre-board meetings are successful, he should simply scrap the meeting and instead issue the minutes of the dinner. His face said "great idea"... his lips uttered something about ministerial accountability.

The one downside from the dinner was that the Dairy UK Chairman had had to send apologies, having been struck down by a "bug". In considering the source of the bug he had narrowed it down to two possibilities –being fed haggis and neeps at the Dairy UK Board meeting or his three-day charity cycle ride in scorching heat on the banks of the River Nile. I mean, I ask you. Which is more likely? Nevertheless, I want to thank all the nice men from Environmental Health at the Food Standards Agency for eventually eliminating us from their inquiries. No, it was no trouble at all, and it was nice to spend a day watching firsthand how you go about these things!

I'm off to Brussels next week for a couple of days to see how my EU friends are doing. This is more or less my first visit back for a few months, having previously been occasionally dispirited by what I would describe as "vision issues" with some in the grey corridors of Euro power. And to be honest, I've been quite happy to satisfy my appetite for Belgian waffles from the kiosk at Baker Street station. In the past, indeed for virtually my entire working involvement with Europe, the UK has been disregarded, nay shunned in Brussels. They take our money, and give us lip service in return. That's because even after EU entry we continued to defend our traditional British systems and were slow to succumb to European ideals – even though, frankly, in my view, we should have.

Now the tide has turned completely. It seems to me that all the innovation – welcome and unwelcome – is coming from the UK and infiltrating Brussels and its apparatchiks. In addressing the challenges of product reformulation, nutrition, food safety and above all, environment, it seems to me now that we are setting the scene, and leading the legislation of the future. It is they, not us, who want to stick to the past. I know this from the responses I get internationally to this newsletter, which is passed round with the top right hand corner messages attached – watch this with care. And I know it when I hear that my EU trade association colleagues want to respond directly to UK government consultations. Of course, at government level there is still a bit to go. Defra's approach to the CAP of extreme liberalisation recently found support from only four other countries over question of the €300m handout to dairy farmers – with 21 opposed. But later on, when the big issues come forward, we'll see how that changes.

So I'm going back to Brussels next week ever hopeful of a positive dialogue. If it materialises, one of Andy's primal screams will resonate around the Grande Place. In French of course, in case they don't understand me.

Friday 22 January 2010

My grateful thanks to Fergus the Green for maintaining the sustainability of this column while I was off whistling in the Canaries. Did you know that there is an island there called Gomera where all communication is done by whistling? I decided to introduce the concept this week at Dairy UK. The Queen Bee was delighted. No stranger to flattering whistles, she says she's at last starting to understand what we're all going on about.

My only observation on the Canarian dairy industry is that you pay the same price for a pint of milk as you do for a pint of beer. In UK terms, wouldn't that put a smile on the faces of our hard pressed farmers if they were receiving their share of £3.50 a pint instead of 31p per pint or so from our supermarkets.

While I was away loafing, three major events caught my eye. The FSA activity on liquid milk; the announcement of the candidates for the NFU office bearers; and the return of that great Scottish philosopher, Rab C Nesbitt to British television. I wondered which would have the most profound impact on the future of the British dairy industry. The significance of Rab is that this column is modelled totally on his style and charm - string vest and all: superficially amusing but deep, penetrating, controversial and full of social comment... Right! I recommend it totally as a modus operandi for the candidates in the NFU elections. They might well not agree with you, but they'll always remember you! The best wishes of Dairy UK go to the dairy candidates in these elections next month. Whatever the outcome, it's crucial for the spirit of co-operation to be re-established. We are collectively weaker for its absence.

The FSA announcements on liquid milk, promoting enthusiastically the consumption of lower-fat milks (and 1% in particular), came as no surprise to me because we've been working closely on this with the FSA in the Dairy Partnership. It won't have surprised the regular reader of this column either, because I've been predicting the future of the UK liquid milk market for months and months. I just hope that the smaller dairy businesses, especially the BMBs, are listening and preparing for the future appropriately. Dairy UK, of course, publicly supported these developments, but this has drawn some criticism from our colleagues overseas who believe that anything other than support for traditional products challenges the integrity of dairy! I respect these views, in particular for the sustenance of a natural image for milk, but the greater need is for the overall profitability of the industry and to have our Government advising consumers to drink more milk and not to cut milk consumption. And on this occasion, mercifully this is what happened. The rest is down to the skills of communication.

Next week I am looking forward to welcoming Farm Minister Jim Fitzpatrick to the Dairy UK Board meeting, where he will have the pleasure of  haggis and neeps on the lunch menu to celebrate Burns Night. I am also eagerly anticipating dinner with my friends at the DairyCo Board in Stoneleigh, where, of course, as you would expect, I hope to pass the evening advising them how to spend their money wisely. I'm good at that. I learned the trick from my wife. As a precaution, I have asked to sit next to the Dairy UK Chairman who will also be a guest. Just to make sure that he tastes the food first!

Friday 15 January 2010

With the Director General's pencil nowhere in sight this week, I thought I'd take the opportunity to hijack the blog and turn it a shade of green. But how to start? Google trends reckons that the weather is the top story of the week, with "weather forecast" and "snow" also making it into the top 10; so the British as predictable as ever. As were the media who threatened to create a panic with stories of empty shelves across the country, all using the same image of the one supermarket that had forgotten to restock. But the industry was quick to respond.

As Wednesday rolled on, I got my first taste of snow with at least an inch covering the pavement outside my flat, not to worry I managed to battle in against the odds and made it to the office on time, despite London's best efforts to grind to a halt. Wednesday also saw what appears to be becoming standard government practice of adopting opposition policies, with the announcement that it will proceed with the creation of an Ombudsman in February.

I have spent a lot of my week preparing responses to calls to eat less dairy on environmental and nutritional grounds. The battle lines have been well and truly drawn on nutrition and the environment, with messages like reduced your meat and dairy consumption to save the planet and yourself at the same time. We need to act against these messages. We have a product we can be proud of, a nutrient dense food and a major source of many nutrients in the UK diet. Simply substituting dairy products, with high protein alternatives such as soy based products would not replace the array of nutrient provided by dairy products. It might be possible to consume other foods as replacements, but not as efficiently as with dairy products. For example, to get the same calcium benefit from a glass of milk you would have to eat 1kg of spinach, and this would not contain the protein.

As the week draws to a close, the FSA launch their messaging on the Sat Fat campaign in an overcrowded room at Aviation House. Far from being an assault on dairy, it appears to be a constructive campaign – in part the result of the partnership we have been fostering. Now the FSA has launched into country origin labelling; more on this to come I think.

So for me, it's off to Stoneleigh to meet our friends at DairyCo to foster another partnership on carbon footprinting. As I sit here on the train, I can now see what everyone has been talking about; a positively wintery scene. As Jim ended his blog with a prediction, perhaps I should do the same; but maybe not, as I wrote in my Milk Industry article this week, the last of my predictions to be published was that 2009 would be the year that water would knock carbon off the front page. Although there were trickles of news, it was not quite the downpour I had forecast. It will be big in 2010, I promise. Fergus the Green over and out.

Friday, 8 January 2010

'Take me back, take me back again where heather hills are high. To the land of lochs and glens and silver seas...' Where did you celebrate the New Year? I went to the world famous Edinburgh Street Party. You might consider that to be madness, and you'd have been right. Arriving ticketless as usual, I was nevertheless standing 10 yards in front of the stage as Madness, the old Camden rockers, went "One Step Beyond", under the blue moon, with Edinburgh Castle as the backdrop. Madness has now been knocking out the same words to the same music for 30 years. As I listened I thought to myself 'that's a bit like being on the [censored] Committee [Editorial veto –come on Jim, this'll never get by the lawyers. What about your New Year resolutions then?] – without of course the music.

It was a truly Christmas-card setting with the snow genuinely "deep and crisp and even", save for the odd empty can of Tennent's. Underfoot, we walked solidly on Scottish grit, made from salt – true grit in other words. As I crunched along, I wondered if this is what the salt that the FSA made us take out of our cheese is now used for. And, by the way, if you've wondered where all the gritters have been during this cold snap, I can tell you they are all on holiday in Edinburgh – teams of them creating traffic jams on the Murrayfield Road.

Five days later, madness continued to provide the prevailing theme as I watched the House of Commons Select Committee query Andrew Cooksey, Rob Knight and Philip Moodie, formerly of Dairy Farmers of Britain. This session had been pre-billed as a sequel to Silence of the Lambs, but, while the Committee Chairman Michael Jack is a highly respected politician, on this particular day as a forensic interrogator he was not quite in the Columbo class. I suspect that Hannibal Lecter might have taken a different approach. His Committee colleagues couldn't help. Their questions were often prefaced with "I'm not an expert, but..." The replies, on the other hand were all of a "Well, it's just as well that I am, then, because..." nature. Before long, the DFoB team were controlling the agenda with consummate professionalism, and after 2½ hours, the committee ran out of time. They never got near the key questions surrounding the close of the business, or on the lessons to be learned, and I sensed that they didn't really want to hear those. I think it's time to call a halt to this unnecessary blame fest. Other than as an exercise in exorcism, its purpose can only have been to discover whether the milk co-ops have structural issues or have difficulty raising capital. No evidence whatsoever has been presented on that front, and while you could argue that this conclusion in itself is enough to justify the inquiry, it's now time to call it a day and move on. After the hearing I called quota guru Mr P for a reaction. I found him skiing with some Scottish pals in Val d'Isère. I mused that at least he'd have someone to buy the drinks. I asked him what Val d'Isère was like. He said "slippery". For Mr P maybe, but not, I thought, for the surefooted DFoB officials in the Select Committee.

Finally, the year did not start well for Environment Secretary Hilary Benn. His visionary Food 2030 policy document, generally acclaimed by all and sundry, was rapidly swept off the news bulletins by the spat which followed the Conservative statement supporting a supermarket ombudsman. What a pity, because the Food 2030 report palpably demonstrates that in addressing the issues the current Government considers to be important, the dairy industry is well ahead of the curve. So, I feel, as a result, Defra did not respond to vocal pressure which urged them to recommend cutting down dairy consumption. But we must be ever alert to this threat. In this country, the much respected WWF has strong views on dairy consumption. I should tell you that in other parts of the world, such as in the US, the WWF take a completely opposite position. But here we expect them to release a report later this month calling for a savage reduction in dairy consumption. We must rigorously defend against such views, but with hard evidence. And Dairy UK is working continuously on a global basis to generate this. Although Defra won't be swayed by the WWF, their arguments will be exposed to our consumers, and we must be ready for a public debate.

But you know, what kind of person would try and predict what the world will be like in 20 years time anyway? Well, here's my shot. This week Darren Ferguson, son of Sir Alex, became manager of Preston North End. I confidently predict that by 2030, PNE will have won 11 Premier Leagues, two Champions Leagues, five FA Cups and two World Club Championships. I'll leave you the phone number of my nursing home so that you can ring to congratulate me if I'm right!

Wednesday 23 December

The Director General's pencil is completely worn out this week. It all started on Monday as he circled the office, notepad in hand, recording everybody's Christmas wishes. Mesmerised by the agility he displayed as he pranced and leapt from desk to desk like a spinning top, I asked Curly what was going on. 'It's a seasonal tradition,' he said. 'Think of a Christmas wish and Jim'll fix it.' Oh ho, I thought, here's an opportunity. As I watched Fergus the Green receive his environmentally friendly abacus - a must for calculating carbon offsets, and Curly open his shiny new editorial scalpel, I waited. Finally, it was my turn. 'Jim,' I said, 'I want to deliver the Queen's Christmas message.' 'Done,' he replied. I should have known as he left my office with a big smile on his face that there wouldn't be a TV crew involved. When I arrived at my desk this morning to find a new pen and a note from Curly saying the deadline for writing the blog was 12.30 today - it all became clear.

You might be wondering what the Director General is doing while I'm writing his blog. Well, as you'll know if you're a regular reader, he's just a pussy cat, so I suppose it's only natural he'd feel the need to go on the prowl. At the last sighting he was seen, hands overflowing with bundles of mistletoe, running towards the NFU's offices singing, "'tis the season to be jolly". I'm not sure what that's all about, but at least I now know what to buy him for Christmas - a shiny new pencil so he can get back to writing his own blog next week!

In the meantime, I'm grateful for the opportunity to wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year and to exercise my right to reply. Those of you who are regular readers know me well. My exploits are a regular feature and I feel truly honoured to receive so many column inches - even when they're of the not-so-flattering kind. For those of you that were hoping I'd take the opportunity to answer all the questions that come my way about the life of the Director General as heard through the thin walls of Dairy UK, I'm afraid I have to disappoint. Wild horses couldn't drag that information out of me. Although I must say that I now realise how naïve I was in thinking that when I finished my PhD many years ago, my time in education had come to end!!!

I feel sure you'll forgive me, though. After all, what woman given a pen and a blank sheet of paper and surrounded by fairy lights and singing reindeer wouldn't take the opportunity to talk about something close to her heart? As Christmas and the New Year get closer I've spent some time thinking about what 2009 has brought The Dairy Council and what our future might hold. It's fair to say we at The Dairy Council have had a very good year. Highlights include: the move to Baker Street, which has made life a lot livelier and given us the freedom us to open our doors to new opportunities; successful events including Dairy Through the Ages, the 50th Anniversary of the Christmas Cheeses and our Milk and Sport conference; enhanced our international activity including establishing an alliance with the National Dairy Council in Ireland, and successfully won EU funding for Milk in Action – a campaign starting in April 2010. All in all, a very good year and one that could have been much less fruitful and certainly less fun without the support and encouragement of all of the readers of the Director General's blog – and indeed the Director General himself.

From the lofty heights of the hive, I have cast a Queen Bee's eye into the future (just the one - the other was still smarting from walking into the communal Christmas tree earlier today). For sure there are challenges for the industry. Health claims legislation is the obvious one. It will affect all of our work and yours too. The media fallout as claims are rejected due to procedural issues in Brussels will not be pretty, and we must be mindful of how we will look to the consumer. Challenges from anti-dairy and special interest groups will continue. Just as nutrition and regulation began walking hand in hand a couple of years ago and are now inextricably linked, so too will nutrition and environmental issues. None the less, I see a bright future. We produce good quality nutrient rich products, outward facing promotional efforts will start this year both by the MMF and The Dairy Council, and we will look for every opportunity to promote the benefits of dairy.

If you remember nothing else in the next year, I would urge you to remember the Queen's Christmas message – dairy is good for you.

As for the Director General, news just in is that nerves have taken hold and he's trying to take back his Christmas blog. Forget it Jim: even if you start running now you'll never be back from Stoneleigh before this goes to print!!

Friday 18 December

This week Dairy UK has been decking the halls with boughs of holly Fa la la la la, la la la la. But as I write I'm also listening sadly to Terry Wogan's last programme on BBC Radio 2. Twenty-seven years of spreading joy, happiness and optimism. In my view his contribution in this capacity is matched only by Sir Alex Ferguson.

Terry in his last show was in a reflective mode. I wondered if I should be the same in this blog. It would help if Curly could make up his mind if this was the last Dairy UK news of the year or not. But the poor lad is worn out. As a new homeowner, he's finding out a lot of things for the first time like gas bills, and the price of central heating spare parts etc, and it's shaken him to the core. At the Dairy UK communal Christmas card signing this week (no we've not and never will surrender to email cards), we had to find him some inspiration. He's in charge of adding all the kisses to the cards, you see, and the ink in his (DairyCo) pen had run out just by signing the Women's Food and Farming Union card alone. I can't find him in the office today. I hope he's having a good rest.

Joining in our Christmas celebration this week - and it was an absolute pleasure to see them - were Cannon and Ball, DairyCo's version of Jedward. We'd only booked them for one afternoon, but we seemed to have them here for most of the week talking about school milk. On inquiry I'm told that they refused to leave until the mistletoe appeared on our Christmas tree. Phew! What an oversight. Once that was sorted they were on their way, sleigh bells jingling in the snow. With a fair wind, they should be home for Christmas. I'll return to the issue of school milk in future.

Although it's Christmas, I noticed that the generosity of spirit which Terry pleaded for this morning has unfortunately not extended to the Liberal Party in the shape of Mr Tim Farron. He is once again in slamming, damning and blasting mode; this time about the Rural Payments Agency. It's almost as if he's suggesting the RPA staff set out each day to deliberately cock everything up. So I say peace and goodwill to him and to all the other commentators who feels that things will improve by using the media to condemn people who are trying to do things in their interests. If we ever talk about doing that at Dairy UK, we always have a look in the mirror first. Our positive stance on most situations reflects reality not aspirations, and it is to our credit. But it's also the area for which we've been most criticised. In one of the relentless reviews of the year I've been asked to do for various journals, I was asked: 'why are you so positive?' My answer was simply that I don't want the industry image to be dominated by its unhappiest people.

If this is the last Dairy UK News of the year (and more certainty on that should be forthcoming because Curly has now re-appeared looking more like the abominable snowman and having had his train cancelled by the weather. (Get yourself a team of reindeer and a sleigh, Curly. To the best of my knowledge Santa never relied on British Rail, and my carrots had always been nibbled on Christmas morning), then my tribute of the year goes to the Dairy UK staff. It's not just the ones you see in London. It's our regional team, the trolley repatriation guys, our people in Scotland and Northern Ireland, and all our publications, media and legal advisors. Well done to all of them they deserve it. I've watched boys turn in to men in our office this year steered and cajoled by rock solid veterans. In particular the output on farming issues has leapt ahead, culminating at the year end in our most successful and meaningful conference ever on Johne's Disease. This will result in real action next year and we still continue to co-operate with forward-looking farming organisations such as DairyCo and the RABDF to address the issue.

And then there's The Dairy Council. So often the victims of playful teasing in this column, but finishing the year with a grant from the European Union to further the interests of the British dairy industry. It's a fantastic effort - an extra slice of Christmas pudding for the Queen Bee and her team at the Christmas lunch.

I'll have to start thinking now about Christmas presents. What can I get the Dairy UK Chairman. I see that the highest selling male and female musicians in the UK this year are Paolo Nutini and Susan Boyle. Do you think he would like that? Well no, me neither. In that case it'll have be a replica of the Black Watch tartan suit that little Joe McElderry wore to seal victory in the X Factor. Touch of class, eh? Job done.

Friday 11 December

The perennial dilemma for a lobbyist is whether you win more with a clenched fist or with a velvet glove. The choice of style is always deliberate for a lobbyist. It should never be a personality thing. This week I sat within the hallowed portals of DG-Agri and watched EU farmer after farmer crucify... well, let's say, lambast, an EU Commission official. His crime had been to explain the rationale behind the Commission's €300m hardship gift, which the farmers will probably be able to use to buy their chocolate bunnies next Easter. The Commission official might have expected the farmers to have said, erm, thank you. Instead, he got a load of snash. Eventually he snapped. "My officials work 12 hours a day in your interests," he said. "More than 90% of the money we pay now comes straight to you, and not through an intermediary. There are 500 million EU taxpayers who would be interested now in what's coming out of your mouths!" Phew! Later on I met him in the corridor. I offered him a tranquilliser, but he settled for a calming Proud of Dairy badge.

At Dairy UK, we've used a variety of styles over the years to get our point across. Always, the subject is discussed in advance and a decision taken. Seldom is there universal agreement. The terriers amongst us want to go for the jugular using the media. The scientists and intellectuals want "the correct" approach and cannot stomach us praising our targets when we know for sure that they are scientifically wrong. For them, there is only one solution. And then there're the pussycats. They always want to cuddle. I,  as you would expect, always lead the pussycat faction at Dairy UK, and I'll remain in this position until all the awkward soothsayers bandits and charlatans that we sometimes deal with see it our way (purr, purr) When the pussycats win an argument at Dairy UK, the scientists and intellectuals shudder, and the eyes of the terriers scream "wimp".

So please consider me in pussycat mode as you read the rest of this blog. I wonder whose bright idea it was to unveil a cut in the Climate Change Levy discount that businesses can claim from the Government during the week of the Copenhagen Climate Change Conference. Our man, Fergus the Green, in Copenhagen for the summit, is now called Fergus the Purple. The stimulus to UK dairy companies from this tax concession has seen them reduce carbon emissions by 130,000 tonnes, while world leading dairy plants are built. So, if the Government wants this to continue, this is wholly the wrong signal. Today, clearly linked to the agricultural debate in Copenhagen, we have the Sustainable Development Commission calling pointedly for reduced dairy consumption. Their report displays a bias that we have come to associate with the City University. Of course we will challenge it but we must do so with science and information, which we are building up progressively. I don't believe the Government will heed this report. They have demonstrated in the past ultra caution when very similar work from City University is promoted to them, but we must keep the flow of information going. I urge those of you who are sitting out there with unpublished research – and you know who you are – to get the information into the public domain as quickly as possible. Otherwise, the City Universities of this world could win.

The Wiseman Neighbourhood Shop of the Year Award was a subdued affair this year. That is the official company line and I am authorised to deliver it. All we had to entertain us were choirs, a gaggle of water nymphs, a Las Vegas street artist, a talking cow, a flotilla of pipers, a cacophony  of fireworks, a recreation of the "American in Paris" film set, and a cluster of  performing nuns. That's all, and absolutely nothing else. On the night, the generous audience collected £45,000 for charity and for me, a new unsung hero emerged.

The Great Scot's Bar in the Cameron House Hotel on the banks of Loch Lomond has a truly evocative atmosphere; it's steeped in history and it's where the "Boozegate Affair" involving the Scottish national football team took place. But in truth, it's so busy that a man can almost die of thirst while waiting to be served. They say that cometh the hour, cometh the man, so step forward this week's winner of the J Begg "Life is All About Timing" award: Charlie Faulkner of RWD. He swooped down from a packed throng like a condor from the High Andes just at that second when the barmaid looked up to dismiss and reject her next victim. Moments later, the combined leadership of the Dairy UK/Dairy Council and PTF had satisfied smiles on their faces. You can't buy talent like that. A winner for sure!

Friday 4 December

This week, Food Minister Jim Fitzpatrick tightened his grip on the Dairy Supply Chain Forum, rattling through the agenda with Churchillian efficiency. Ominously, I thought, he advanced the date of the next meeting from next June (ie post-election) to next March (pre-election). This shows either a lack of confidence in Labour's prospects or sound political determination to register his legacy with the industry. The legacy will have to have been created in approximately 7 months but that should be no problem for a Scot. Look what Susan Boyle has done in around 5 minutes.

Anyway, everyone was in buoyant mood, reflecting the season of the year. In the spirit of things, those who usually wear angry face masks had tried to take them off. Only one or two had discovered they are actually welded on. An enlightened contribution came from the retail sector, who complained about the succession outlook for farmers. What was she saying? Was she suggesting that some farmers were over the hill? As I glanced across the room at the almost cherubic faces of my farmer colleagues, all I could see was the springboard for a positive future. The retailers also said they had a problem with graduate recruitment. I was forced to challenge this." If you want high quality graduate trainees, come round to my house", I said. "You'll find stacks of them that I paid for, all having showers with my hot water and all leaving my food at the side of their plates - I'd be happy to pass them on to you". However the serious point she was making was not lost on me or the meeting. The food industry needs a more attractive image to ensure high quality succession.

The next day saw another triumph for the Queen Bee, her advisors and the cheese industry at the Royal Hospital in Chelsea. Have a look yourself on YouTube or at tinyurl.com/xmascheese. Global press coverage flowed from this prestigious event in the Christmas calendar. The Great Alexander Chair of The Dairy Council was masterful in his assembly oration - a great tribute to a man more noted for consuming cheese than producing it. A misprint in the instructions had led him to believe that it was the Ceremony of the Christmas Knees, not cheese, so he had worn a Celtic skirt, which prevented his photograph from appearing in the Gulf Times. He validated this by claiming that his mother had told him he had good legs. 'Yes,' I thought, 'you can always rely on your mother to tell you the truth!'

The one acrimonious point came at the lunch. I was proud and honoured to have been asked to compile and present the Cheese Quiz. I thought it could be the start of something big. However, after the event, I was summarily dismissed by the Queen Bee for making the questions too hard. On reflection, I suppose she was right. I mean, imagine asking the cognoscenti of the cheese industry to recognise a picture of Wallace from Wallace and Gromit, or to unscramble the letters "hcddera" to form the word cheddar. Anyway, I was hauled off to the Tower in chains and that was the end of it.

Happily, I was released in time to chair the Dairy UK seminar on Johne's disease, where Defra announced that 34.7% of UK herds were affected. Most experts were relieved at this, thinking that the size of the challenge would be greater. What encouraged me was that there is already a vast amount being done to take on this disease, which wastes both cattle and margins. It all just needs bringing together, and that's what Dairy UK intends to do.

The seminar also produced my quote of the week, again from that endless production house of one-line quips, Roger Evans, Chairman of the UK Dairy Farmers' Forum. "I admit that I've got Johne's disease on my farm", he said. "And that's the nearest I'll ever get to coming out!"

Friday 27 November

What a crazy week it's been at Dairy UK, but you get them, don't you. There was an unhelpful report in The Lancet telling people to cut back on dairy foods, as a means of saving the planet. There's been more complaints from DairyCo about the Blog (they can't be serious, and they know it just makes me worse). And of course, we've had the strange and very public intervention from the Parliamentary Standards Committee into the activities of one of our former Chairmen. As a countervailing spirit-raising measure, I've instructed that we commence immediately with the erection of the Dairy UK Christmas tree in the office. I like Christmas and in my opinion, you can't start preparing early enough, especially, if as is forecast, the winter starts to bite early. In these circumstances, there is nothing more heartening than to roast your chestnuts at an open fire.

I've missed most of the excitement in the office this week because I've been on a men-only golf break in sunny Portugal. Now, I've never been on a golf jaunt like this before but I've heard about them, and I just assumed that like the rest, this trip would be totally bogus. So when we got to Gatwick, I fully expected that we would deposit the golf clubs in the left luggage and then I'd find out what we were really doing. But it soon became clear that it was actually going to happen. Somehow as I boarded the plane, I had an air of anti-climax.

However, in this Blackberry age, even Portugal wasn't far enough to protect me from what most people now view in retrospect as a comical confusion of reactions from different Government departments to the report in The Lancet. In there, it was suggested that cutting livestock production by 30% in the UK could help slow climate change. In the finest tradition of knee-jerk reactions, the Department of Health waded in with support for this view. Later, following a more balanced reflection, Defra condemned the report and its findings for its over-simplicity. Commentators, including the BBC, laughed at the Government's haplessness, but it wasn't so funny from an industry point of view. I fear that both in the lead up to Copenhagen and afterwards we are going to see more and more of this headline-grabbing nonsense. However, the good news is that after much hard work, the dairy industry now has the clear facts at its disposal to counter these allegations. So we must make sure that we lose no opportunity in communicating to everyone who will listen.

Next week I'm looking forward to persuading Defra at the Dairy Supply Chain Forum that the dairy agenda is much wider and longer term than the narrow confines of the EU Commission's High Level Group. We also have our completely sold-out London seminar on Johnes's disease, at which we hope to show leadership on behalf of the farming sector in addressing this important issue. We now know for sure that the Defra survey results will be reported at the seminar. It should be well worth attending.

However, the highlight of the week could well be The Dairy Council's Ceremony of the Christmas Cheeses at The Royal Hospital in Chelsea. This is the 50th anniversary of the Ceremony and it promises to be the most spectacular ever. The Queen Bee has asked me to compile and present The Cheese Knowledge Quiz at the lunch. This is a real honour, although I know she's only asked me because she doesn't want me to be involved as a contestant. I'm a previous winner, you see, and whilst I agree with her that it was unfortunate that I found the questions inadvertently left behind on the photocopier, I do not apologise for reading them. I mean, what's a man to do? I thought it was one of our Business Briefs. Anyway, as a reward to regular readers of this column, I'm going to give you this year's answers in advance. They are yes, yes, no, yes, and no. All you'll have to do on the day is put them in the right order. And a final clue – I hope it isn't all too much of a Blur!

Friday 20 November

A visit to Scotland is an absolute tonic. I thoroughly recommend it to everyone. I think it's because all the hills are made of tablet, and all the rivers are made of whisky. And of course, as you know, Scots have an enlightened philosophy on nutrition. This is that unlimited calories in any meal can be 100% neutralised if the meal is accompanied by a glass of diet Irn-Bru. Yes, while normal people are trying to diet, the Scots are usually dying to try it.

AgriScot this week fully embodied this joi de vivre. AgriScot is a Scottish cow show held in November, normally with the specific objective of turning everyone who attends into a brass monkey. But this year everyone was glowing, almost cherubic. The DairyCo Board had gathered there in their multitudes to join in the bonhomie. Is this why the DairyCo stand is always the biggest? Anyway this gave me another opportunity to advise, guide and cajole them on how to spend their money in future. I'm good at that, and I see from their facial expressions how much they welcome my advice. But guys, I warn you; I don't know how much longer I can keep giving you the monopoly of good ideas on catch up. I have to spread these things around, you know.

But what is it that is engendering this positive progressive spirit amongst Scottish farmers'? I mean it's not as though the NFUS are famous for overdosing on happy pills, is it? Has Thierry Henri had a hand in this? (Ed note: He had to get this in somewhere, so it might as well be here). No, I detect an encouraging change at the top. Young James McLaren of Crieff, very impressive President of the NFUS, was positively eulogising at the Agriscot conference about the contribution of the SNP Government to Scottish agriculture. And sitting next to him as he spoke was the equally impressive SNP Government in the form of Roseanna Cunningham, the Environment Minister. She delivered a comprehensive summary of "hand in the pocket" measures that she had implemented to advance the structure of Scottish agriculture – including support at Campbeltown no less. She deserves to be praised, because it is indeed a very impressive list. So impressive, that I wish the food authorities in England were driven by the SNP. Why not I wonder?

But James, what's going on? Are you going soft? It is a rarity for the flesh to receive such gratuitous adulation from the thorn. And did I hear you say on environment, that you believed it was likely that nothing would come out of Copenhagen, but you would still lead forward Scottish farmers' anyway? This is great stuff. Your association with Dairy UK is paying great dividends. If you go on like this you'll eventually make it to the DairyCo Board.

Anyway, it was with a light step that made my way to the main event at Agriscot - the judging of the slimming competition. It seems that six Scottish giants of agriculture had spent the summer forgoing Forfar Bridies in aid of charity. The judging took place in the cattle ring next to a group of Ayrshire coos. Now, I accept that I have no right to criticise, but as I gazed over the parade ring, I was initially confused over which were the entrants to the slimming contest and which were looking to have rosettes pinned to their ears. Let's face it: few in Scotland are ever required to spell or pronounce the word svelte.

The dairy challenge was lead by our own Alexander the Great, Chair of The Dairy Council. At the last minute he tried to engage me as his manager. But I was no help. He told me he had lost two stones. Hmm, I thought, he must have been having trouble with his gall bladder. He asked me what more he could do to win. I said shave off your moustache. Every little helps. Regrettably, he declined. In the end he lost the competition by a whisker! Aye, you're never too old to learn!

Friday 13 November

This week we say adios to three giants of the dairy industry: Colin Smith, Richard Davies, and Alice. Alice? Alice? Who the heck (NB: Company Secretary edit) is Alice, I hear you say. Well, for the past few months, Dairy UK staff have been living next door to Alice in Baker Street. You'll sometimes miss her if you visit the office, because her public profile is often camouflaged behind an enormous pile of nutrition textbooks, often reaching to the ceiling. You only know she's been there because you can see the packets of biscuits she keeps on top of the pile of textbooks tied up with elastic bands progressively diminish. As her name suggests, this mighty atom has been the lynch pin, the lucky thread, the glue which holds things tightly together at The Dairy Council. Dr Alice Cotter BSc, H Dip Ed, PhD. RNutr from Oirland is off to pastures new. We wish her well, and we look forward to getting our window ledges back.

Colin and Richard are of course respectively the Chairman of Assured Food Standards and its dairy satellite Assured Dairy Foods. These two deserve gold medals because what they've achieved has been against all odds. Farmers', wisely or unwisely do not like farm assurance. Marketers don't like generic brands. The use of the term 'British', popular that it is, still doesn't cut it with the clever people who advise me on these matters (unlike the terms Scotch or Welsh). And of course the Red Tractor doesn't yet deliver the scale of market premium that had been hoped for, largely because there is not enough marketing spend. Yet despite all this, the logo is now on £10bn of food sold in the UK and dairy is by far the dominant chunk of that – I reckon about 40%. That's incredible. It's almost as much as my wife seems to spend on kitchens. The Red Tractor should have gone the way of all those other generic logos we've seen, but instead it has flourished. That in my view is down largely to these two guys. I know them both well. They're of a type. They get their sleeves rolled up and get stuck into the issues when they arise. And crucially, they allow the highly capable staff at ADF to get on with their jobs; and they protect them from the phalanx of advisors, representatives and committee men who at AFS now make up a significant army. If the new Chairman at AFS has a challenge it will be to stick to this mantra. With AHDB now providing the promotional funds, I can see legions of marketing 'experts' from all the sectors all wanting a say. There is a risk that the new Marketing Committee becomes an elaborate version of the oompah oompah bird. Believe me I've seen it happen.

Finally, as you all know, the big problem with Board meetings of the Seven Dwarfs is that there's only ever one of them happy. So it will be, I fear, at the next meeting of the Dairy Supply Chain Forum which is Food Minister Jim Fitzpatrick's communications channel with the industry. It will be dominated by the discussions in Brussels in the High Level Group. The HLG has been created as a result of political pressure from the French, who want to solve the problems created by their milk pricing system by imposing it on the rest of the EU. So the best civil servants in each member state have all been hauled in to try and deliver a political fudge that will push milk pricing back off their desks. The HLG cannot deliver on the French aspirations without crippling the principles of a free market which is what the Commission, the UK Government, and virtually all the farmers' organisations in this country and elsewhere all want. If prices continue to rise the result may turn out to be a political irrelevance. That was probably the calculation of Mariann Fischer Boel in giving it nine months to work out recommendations.

Food Minister Jim Fitzpatrick for all we know may only have six months left in office to make a significant mark! Does he want to be tied up with a political irrelevance? Of course not, so in my view the DSCF should be looking at food security. Why? Because it poses our greatest risk! Despite the fact that everyone talks about it, few people in the dairy industry can see that yet. That's because it's an ill defined concept which allows people to bring a whole range of issues and interlinked topics together to make it excessively complicated. And of course it's a global issue so it's impossible for people to see how it affects them in their small neck of the woods.

We've unravelled it all at Dairy UK. In a nutshell, unless we start to examine the food security issue in a serious way now, the world demand for protein in future will be satisfied from sources other than dairy. That's the same demand that we're relying on for the future prosperity of our industry. If that's not more important than mollifying the French, I don't know what is. I'll be trying to persuade people about this when the DSCF meeting comes along. I'll let you know how I get on.

Friday, 6 November

Three of my close colleagues had birthdays last week. The 50-year old celebrated hers with joy, gusto and relish. The two 32-year olds thought it was the end of their world, or worse, the end of their youth! Unfortunately for the kids, perception and not reality conditions the way you feel. The whole thing brought home to me the difficulties of communicating across age gaps (other than through music). Take young Curly for example. This week one of our members described something we are developing as like "something out of the 60s". Now would you take that as a criticism or a compliment? I interpreted the comment as meaning "dated", or "old fashioned". Young Curly wasn't alive in the 60s. He viewed it as retro cool! 

Last week was the 15th anniversary of deregulation, and I did an interview with the Farmers' Weekly. I brought Curly in to listen to the history lesson. He sat there open mouthed listening, trying to work out if the MMBs had been a force for good or evil. Consider it in these terms Curly. What is the difference between the MMBs and a pot of yogurt? The yogurt has an active culture!

This week has been a very, very good week for Dairy UK. Our positive media penetration rating has reached a record level. The Board enjoyed an extremely positive interchange with Conservative Shadow Defra Secretary, Nick Herbert. We had our budget approved and further key areas of structural development nodded through. The Board also approved a recommendation that Fergus the Green should henceforth be renamed Fergus the Stick Insect.

In contrast, it was another very bad week for scientists. Wadgie, the FSA Chief Scientist, was forced to extend his blog to two pages in a "backs against the wall" defence of the Agency's salt policy against attacks from other scientists. Two pages? That's an awful lot of words for a Spurs fan! Then of course there was the sacking of Professor Nutt and resignations from the Government's Advisory Committee on drugs. So the key question here is: should Governments be forced to pay heed to independent scientists?

Well, let's look at this scientifically. Professor Nutt (on drugs) says, "I do this for nothing; I'm an independent expert; I've got an independent panel, so you, the Government should listen". Wadgie, who is the Government, on the other hand, (on salt), says, "I am Wadgie, the great god of science at the FSA, I am an expert too, and my views are backed up by 200 of my independent mates and I've got an independent advisory panel too, and they agree with me, and not the independent experts who are criticising us".

But what Wadgie and Professor Nutt both know is that scientists do disagree and that gives politicians easy room to manoeuvre. But more significantly, for us in the dairy industry, although the independent scientific advisors do it for nothing, they are all attached to scientific institutes who rely on Government research grants for their survival. So if you don't tow the political line with your independent scientific advice... etc, etc.

That's why for me, Professor Nutt's intervention should be applauded, but doubtlessly by now realism is penetrating his inner senses. It's also why I'd like Wadgie (who by the way for the avoidance of any doubt, is on all fronts a top cookie... that is for a Spurs fan), to reflect in his next blog on his scientific definition of "independent". I'd also like him to consider a question posed to me by the scientist who sits through the wall from me. If you cross a Queen Bee with a Friesian bull, do you get a land of milk and honey? The Lord's my Shepherd.

Friday, 30 October

Phew! I've just come in from the sweltering heat of London's Indian autumn. The London pavement cafes are doing record business. I saw an altercation because one girl had misdirected her Ambre Solaire spray in the direction of her neighbour's capaccino. What's going on? I had dinner in Scotland this week with The Great Alexander, the Dairy Council Chairman. He turned up in full tennis gear. Then he ordered a Pimms No 1 with his pakora.  Crivens, I didn't know where to look. I consulted my personal climate change advisor Fergus the Green. He told me to get my Hawaiian shirts back out the cupboard for next week. "I'll lend you mine. They don't fit me any more", he beamed.

I will certainly take his advice, and encourage others to do so as we gather in London on Thursday at the party of the year for the retiring doyen of British trade associations, Richard Macdonald. The great Dickie Mac is as close as it gets to being indispensable, and holds the enormous respect of his peers and his funders. Did you know, that the Beggs and Macdonalds are in the same clan? I like to think that's what gave him his edge. I wish him well for the future

It was a great relief to everyone that on the issue of his successor, the white smoke emerged from the NFU chimney before Richard's farewell hooley. Leaking sieves being what they are, the name of his successor was a surprise to few. All Stoneleigh bookies had stopped taking bets on Kevin Roberts weeks ago. No wonder. This man is rock solid. His only discernible weakness is that he's a 'lifelong West Bromich Albion fan'. Oh well, I suppose blood's thicker than water. The surprise, if any, was why he chose to leave the AHDB. In that role, he had enough money to buy West Brom........and all their opponents.

It couldn't have been easy for him there. As everyone knows, it is much harder to spend money than to earn it. It must have been hell wandering around the 'cash in' loading bays at the AHDB, watching the white vans  full of five pound  notes roll up relentlessly, day after day, piling up in storerooms. Then marching over to the 'goods out' bay to watch the queues of consultants, academics, experts and scientists snaking its way back round the NFU building, hands out, eyes gleaming. I've been there myself, hoping for the caviar and champagne, but often happy to settle for the potato soup. Honestly, it would bring a tear to a glass eye!

So it is with every good wish that I hope he settles in quickly to his new office in the NFU executive wing. As he looks out the window watching the brand spanking new space-age AHDB building that he commissioned rise higher and higher, I wonder if he'll think that one of his priorities will be to stop it eventually blocking out his light.

I remember when I took over at the IDF, a previous incumbent in the position told me "Make all your changes in the first three months. After that, the bastards will grind you down." The other approach, of course, is to do nothing but watch for three months until you can read the whites of their eyes. And until you are absolutely certain who 'they' are. I'm sure he'll want my advice on this, don't you agree? My predecessor at the IDF was right.

The role of Director General at the NFU is an absolutely vital one for farmers. More so now than ever, because farming politics have changed. There was a time when the NFU summoned the Minister of Agriculture, not the other way round. However a number of factors, not the least of which was the arrival of the EU and the diminution of the national Government relative to the European Commission has contributed to that. But whereas then, the only voice of farming was the NFU, Ministers now appoint their own external advisors, and several of them have been very successful, notably Sir Don Curry, a previous Chairman of Dairy UK. Moreover, with modern communication vehicles being used more widely by farmers, getting an alternative message across is not too difficult. So, for example in the dairy sector who would challenge the view that columnists such as Ian Potter are now influential in representing dairy farmer views?

So welcome, Mr Roberts to the new world of political lobbying. You will certainly listen to your constituents, but above all you will have to lead them, very often in directions they don't want to go. If you don't believe me, just ask the farming publications who wrestle with this on a weekly basis. And that will be the test. Critics may occasionally pose the question are the usurpers, who may in time include his own successor at the AHDB, more powerful now than the NFU? You have to put the answer to that question in absolutely no doubt. I'll help you of course. You only have to ask.

Friday, 23 October

Anyone who has ever accompanied the Queen Bee to dinner at a Chinese restaurant will know of her aversion to chopsticks. I've seen her take 15 minutes to transfer a single Singapore noodle from her plate, to an area quite close to her mouth. "Practice makes perfect," I keep telling her, but to no avail. Not of course that I can claim any superiority in the area of food transfer skills. As someone from a generation who takes refuge in the "Blue Harbour" school of couturial sophistication, I would never now tackle a spaghetti bolognaise or a risotto without a Sou'wester and a full set of oilskins. So it was with some trepidation that each of us this week advanced towards the finger buffet at the 30th anniversary birthday party of the Women's Food and Farming Union.

It was indeed a gala occasion: a glittering celebration of farming's feistiest womanhood, ready to be called into action at the drop of a hat to defend the economic status of the countryside. The Dunkirk spirit bristled throughout the room. As I watched the Queen Bee launch an attack on a mini pickled onion with a cocktail stick, I realised that I would have 20 minutes or so to reflect on the opinions of the guest speaker at the lunch, the venerable Tory Peer, John Selborne.

Lord Selborne was characteristically genteel in his delivery, but razor sharp in his message. "I want to tell you about the massive responsibility that society will demand of farmers in future," he said. The global need for food would be huge, and farmers would have to produce it. They would have to do so using less water and land than they do now. If animals were involved, they must be protected, and farmers must be prepared to bear the cost of disease. And above all, they must not increase the environmental pollution of the atmosphere. Farmers would be responsible for preserving nature and the sustainability of the species, its plants and its insects. The ladies of the WFU were rapt in attention.

As I listened, I thought, 'right - no challenge there, then!' I thought back to comments I'd heard earlier in the day by Farm Minister Jim Fitzpatrick. Speaking about the new €300 million package for dairy farmers announced this week by the EU Commission, he had said that the UK would, "not support anything that takes us backwards to a regime of heavy market support for inefficient dairy producers at the expense of taxpayers and consumers". Fair enough, but what I want to know is  how exactly does society expect farmers to deliver on this gargantuan task, broadly similar in scale to that  taken on by Adam in the book of Genesis. Who exactly is going to take on this colossal role?

Ultimately of course Adam was required to sacrifice a rib to help him make progress. And of course from that simple beginning eventually emerged... the Women's Food Farming Union. Frankly, that's who I'd give the job to. They have a determination that does not understand the concept of failure. The word 'spirit' is imprinted on every forehead. At the lunch, we saw a video of the history of the WFU including interviews with the founders from 30 years ago. In essence, the organisation had started to take on the big rural issues because men were hopeless and the NFU just talked and smoked cigars. There were interviews with the founders' husbands. Their eyes reflected delight that the wives' attentions would be anywhere rather than on them. But as the video moved on, and with 'There'll always be an England' playing in the background, the atmosphere became more charged. I swear that if the champagne bottle had come round the room once more, knuckles would have been cracked, faces blackened, and the battle plans laid.

The solution to the challenges set out by Lord Selborne is of course the re-engagement of the food producer with the scientific researcher. It's in research that the money must urgently be spent. But if this light still needs switching on, I'd happily talk to the WFU. In my view, any one of them could proudly take their place in the Rangers midfield... But that's another story.

Friday, 16 October

As all of you know, I have absolutely no ego. That can be a blessing. This week I addressed the British Mastitis Conference, In fact, I opened the conference with the first presentation. A man in the audience, in asking me a question, introduced himself as Mr Anonymous from Nowhere. I smiled, and thought, 'it's nice to meet the neighbours'. The very next day I was at the posh Guild of Agricultural Journalists' lunch in London. I sat next to a sparkling, attractive, young journalist who wants to remain anonymous. Don't ask me for details, but our conversation got onto the subject of teat dipping. She said to me, "Oh, I was at the British Mastitis Conference yesterday, you'd have really enjoyed it!"

The BMC do was the second time I have addressed a conference on mastitis this year. Actually, it's the second time in 37 years, to be truthful. The first was as the NMC in Charlotte, North Carolina, in January, where I gave the keynote address. So I now consider myself one of the leading British experts (no ego, see?). I have one single message to farmers. Mastitis, I believe, reduces the productive capacity of the industry by around 10%. So, 10% of the milk price of around 24p per litre; for a herd producing one million litres per year, that's around £26,000 extra lolly in the farmers' pocket which no wicked milk processor or retailer can touch. So, go to it lads. Get out the scrubbing brush, and then order a new tractor!

When I got back from the BMC I went straight to the DFoB Select Committee Inquiry. What is the point of this exercise? Is it to rake out and publicise every possible flaw or weakness in the British dairy industry? Who exactly is it designed to help? It happened to be the NFU that was giving evidence, but, frankly, that was irrelevant. The Select Committee pummelled the NFU for explanations as to why DFoB collapsed and then relentlessly crucified them when they offered little more than the PricewaterhouseCoopers' report as an explanation. How in God's name are they supposed to know the reasons? They weren't in the room when the key decisions were taken. They didn't buy the assets or contribute to the business plans. They weren't on the board. How could they or anyone possibly know the truth if they weren't directly involved?

To their credit, the NFU didn't wilt under questioning, but once the Committee gave up on seeking explanations, the rest was a ritual of hobbyhorses from both witnesses and Committee members. Meaningful and relevant enough to those making the points, sure, but little to do with DFoB. We'll have to wait and see whether any real lessons emerge from these sessions. Some of the affected members also gave evidence - with genuine compassion. Not only had they lost money, but their conviction in the model had been severely damaged. Why do we have these blame fests? Is it to allow for the exorcism of consciences? Will it help those who lost money? I doubt it. I don't blame the Committee either. It's the system. If you give MPs a platform, they're going to exploit it. And they may feel they're foing this in farmers' interests.

Let's move on, build and prosper. And leave the MPs to talk amongst themselves... preferably about expenses!

My new ego-deflating journalist friend won a prize in the Guild's raffle. It was described as a John Deere 'model machine'. She brought it proudly back to the table and I said: "You're like all farmers. As soon as the market turns round you go and get yourself a new tractor." But her eyes were gleaming. She'd just sorted out a Christmas present for her little nephew.

Friday, 9 October

I'm writing this in Bratislava. Where is Bratislava? Exactly! You have absolutely no idea, do you? I asked the hotel receptionist here if she had heard of Bristol. She said, Rovers or City? In the UK we know nothing about Europe but they know all about us, and in dairy markets knowledge is power.

My Bratislava hotel is hosting two competing events this week. One is the European Dairy Association Board meeting, the other is the World Dog Championships. I discovered that a friendly 'woof' to the doorman can gain you access to both events. I clearly have that 'top dog' look about me. The hotel bar has been affectionately christened The Pound. This makes the pooch owners comfortable but it's appropriate in my view because the seats in the bar give you that sinking feeling. Look, when you stay in the sort of hotels that I stay in, you get accustomed to seeing lots of dogs around. But I must confess the memory of queuing up for breakfast behind a poodle, three pekinese and a brace of strident dachshunds will stay with me forever.

Two things are baffling the dairy cognoscenti who are gathered here this week. First, whether the protests by dairy farmers, pouring milk over the streets in Brussels and the like, are actually having a meaningful impact in any sense. And second, what in heaven's name is going on in the butterfat market? Isn't butterfat the stuff we are supposed to be reducing our consumption of? So why are private stock rooms now empty? Well, I think the dairy farmer protests did have an impact. I was in Brussels on Monday fighting for the interests of the British dairy industry, and I got stuck for more than an hour in the darkness of the ring road tunnel. Frustrating, yes, but on this occasion I don't think I was the target. A more discernable impact is that this form of protest may well be making it politically difficult for the European Commission to do things which actually help.

Take the aforementioned butterfat market, for example. Consumers in Asia are still munching away merrily in increasing volumes and stocks, as I say, are low. Now we know from 2007 what happens when stocks are wiped out. Panic sets in, and prices go through the roof. Fine, you might think, but what also happens is that customers substitute dairy with non-dairy alternatives, and never come back. Prices tumble, despair sets in, and away we go again. Now, at this point, some might argue that the bigger picture approach would be for the Commission to slowly release their intervention stocks onto the market to generate a slower, deeper, longer lasting lift to prices. But politically, of course, it's impossible for the Commission to act while dairy farmers are pouring milk on the streets.

And it's not just the butterfat market. Our fine EU Agriculture Commissioner Mariann Fischer Boel is about to retire and has thrown a legacy to EU milk producers in the form of a High Level Group which will examine all the things that farmers want see happen. This includes margins in the supply chain, producer contracts, transparency and some extras. Many are cynical about this HLG and call it an empty gesture designed to divert farmers away from clamouring for the retention of quotas. But for sure these issues are now on the agenda. They are about the balance of supply and demand in the post-quota environment and the industry needs to sit up and take notice. And European farmers need to reflect on whether through their actions these Commission activities just stay political, or get turned into positive outcomes.

Finally, I am continuing my ongoing dialogue with the Dairy UK Chairman on the relative contributions made by the English and the Scots to poetry, culture, and The Arts. To champion the case for England, the Chairman has proffered Rudyard Kipling. On behalf of Scotland I have put forward... Paulo Nutini. I think by any definition, that's a pretty close contest. But I'm encouraged by the fact that while we know without fear of contradiction the totality of what Kipling has to offer, Nutini is still in scintillating productive form, but my coup de grace will be conclusive and it is this. To the best of my knowledge Rudyard Kipling never played the "moothie". Game over.

Friday 2 October

Malthusian Pete and I were wandering aimlessly around the streets of Brussels this week, killing time while waiting for the accursed Eurostar. I hate that train with a vengeance. It really narks me that it's now cheaper, more convenient, more comfortable, quicker, safer and better for the environment than the plane. What a curse. I also hate the tunnels it goes through – all strategically placed to disrupt important mobile phone calls. I often wonder how many business deals/proposals of marriage/sports commentaries etc get blown apart at a sensitive stage of development because of the tunnels.

The truth of it actually is that we weren't walking around the streets of Brussels at all. We were in a bar. Malthusian tells me that we shouldn't keep telling people that we're in bars because it's bad for our image. I explained to him that many of my great personal triumphs over the years have occurred in bars and that I consider them to be places of inspiration and solemnity. Not to mention of course that I'd observed Malthusian himself on many occasions in bars paying tribute to the patron saint of English manhood, Lagericus. If I had any influence on anything at all, I'd move the whole Dairy UK office to "The Beehive" across the road, and save on the rent and rates. But it might eventually come to that, so I'd better move on.

Malthusian and I were discussing risk management tools and price volatility. I'm pretty sure now that these will be of great interest and value to some people, particularly those operating more in commodity markets. However, these tools will not on any account remove volatility from the market. Indeed, to be successful, markets need price volatility for futures systems to work. For sure, I think our interests are best served by having markets which do not favour a flourishing trade in risk management tools, This means stable markets with an intervention base, and a focus by the industry on having as little milk in commodity markets as possible. Thus said, at the level of the farm gate, there are some intriguing possibilities to contemplate. I wonder if dairy companies would be interested in a scenario which said ok Mr Supplying Farmer, I think I'll be able to pay you say 25p for the next two years. But it might turn out to be 35p or it might be 15p. So I'll pay you 22p guaranteed, and I'll take the rest of the risk? Are you interested? No-one does that in the world yet. Do you think we'll be the first?

Having sorted that out, Malthusian was updating me that the Belgian Consumer Association had complained to the competition authorities about the deal which saw supermarkets, farmers and Government collectively agree to raise the farm gate milk price in a scheme administered by their RPA and paid out through the processors. 'What a surprise', I thought. No sooner were the words out of Malthusian's mouth, than up rolled Tintin, my Belgian processor mate. After reprimanding him for being in bars during working hours, I gently teased them that they couldn't afford to buy drinks because they'd need all their money to pay the fines if the consumers were successful.

"No, no, no", he said. First, it had to be proved that consumers had suffered, and that would be impossible. "Alas", I said, "that's the easy part." You simply phone up one of the PTJs (Price Transmission Judges) around of which Zigma or Z for short is the undisputed king. You give him loads of euros and he puts all the figures into a machine, not unlike the one which chooses the lottery numbers, and out come pages and pages of equations, quotations and formulae. Then, after a few minutes, a bell rings and the word 'GUILTY' comes up in neon lights. Z then phones up the Belgian tax office and says, "Right guys, hold the VAT calculations until I sort out how much I'm going to fine the dairies!" Tintin smirked and repeated what he'd told me when I met him at the Nantwich Show. He said this is supposed to be a positive thing for farmers, and processors were simply not involved. Sorry, Tintin, the morals of the issue don't come into it. It's only the application of a set of rules - just like the guy in the UK who lost his licence when he edged past a red light to let an ambulance through. So if this goes the distance, I just hope the Belgians have listened to the advice of Rudyard Kipling viz before entering any battle the first thing to do is plan your exit.

Malthusian motioned to me that "he could hear the train a-comin". I thought, from two kilometres away? Eh? I must introduce Malthusian to milder lagers. We left Tintin to ponder. I heard him shouting for Stella, but I don't think that was the name of the barmaid.

Friday 25 September

I spent two hours last week going round in circles with Welshie from Defra. Just two hours I hear you say? I know, but I have to admit that it was a pleasurable experience. We were in that glass bee hive thingy that sits on top of the Reichstag building in Berlin, where you go up and down, round the outside in a continuous loop. The journey up and down only took 15 minutes, but the building has a central column with 360 mirrors, so the other 1 hour 45 minutes was spent waiting for Welshie to decide which was the right one to brush her hair in front of. The building has a pie- funnel like top, open to the elements. "That'll be to let all the hot air out", said Welshie, whose true identity cannot of course be revealed for security reasons.... that's social security reasons.

The time spent waiting for the coiffure to be perfected allowed me to reflect on what I'd learned at the IDF World Dairy Summit. It had started controversially. With German dairy farmers elsewhere pouring milk on their fields in protests at low milk prices, the a capella band hired for the opening ceremony began their performance with the spectacularly inappropriate "Happy days are here again". Clearly aware, however, that the first conference speaker was from the European Commission, they followed this up with "You, you're driving me crazy". That's better, I thought.

Meanwhile, I had been distracted by an enquiry from the conference Chairman, my mate, Eckhart. He was searching for the keynote speaker, Barry - currently Australia's biggest cheese. Nine slides of Barry's 12-slide presentation were blank, and the other three were pictures of half-naked women. 'Yip, that sounds like Barry', I thought. I was only surprised there were no pictures of motorbikes. All was revealed - quite literally, soon after. Barry, an unapologetic defender of free markets, had named the ladies Subsidy, Protection, and Market and graphically illustrated the evils of the first two, coupled with the virtues of the third. Welshie later confided in me that she had been initially confused because Protection had "nicer eyes" (if you see what I mean), than Market. I asked Wan Hung Lo, a Korean friend of mine, what he thought the message was from the presentation. "Things go better with half naked ladies," he replied. I've booked Barry to give his next presentation in Northern Ireland.

The beauty of global hoolies such as the World Dairy Summit is that you can dip into all the dairy disciplines being progressed in the different conference rooms, whilst never being far away from a free chocolate ice cream on a stick. Taken as a whole, my impression is that everywhere, the dairy industry is preparing itself well for the future. I met no ostriches in Berlin. Quite the opposite, in fact. For example, The IDF has grasped the environment portfolio with a vengeance. When I was their President, they would sooner have had their fingernails pulled out with pliers than invest resource in this area. So, I'm pleased that I stuck with it and that a light has suddenly gone on at HQ. The signing of the Global Declaration on Climate Change for dairy is a major step forward and just what's needed.

On the dairy markets, I'm pretty convinced now that the price cycle, although volatile, will be relentlessly upwards. I am more dubious that risk management tools being discussed will be effective in turning wavy parabolas into straight lines, but my study of this is not yet complete. The short-term dilemma, however, is more complex because the milk price necessary to stimulate growth on dairy farms (perhaps around 30 eurocents per litre) is roughly the same as the price at which non-dairy ingredients become attractive to our customers. This was the problem in 2007/2008, when much business lost at the time of the price spike has still to be recovered.

But it is in the field of nutrition that I feel obligated to continue to vent my frustrations. I have, as you know, been critical of the world's dairy nutritionists for "under delivering" in an area of crucial importance for the future of the industry. This criticism has much vexed and irritated the Queen Bee, whose defence of the integrity of the science is unremitting. But I realise, now, that these people have taken us forward as far as they can with the woeful lack of resources available to them. If the global dairy industry wants milk to retain its position as a "healthy" product, then it is going to have to up the resource significantly and quickly.

On the Berlin social front, the global bonhomie was effusive. The Gala Dinner was superlatively creative, with a spectacular simulation of the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Not a spot of dust landed in the truffle soufflé. It is a shameful and shallow cop out I know, but I apologise to the legions of fine, young English ladies who had waited patiently to dance with me. Alas, time and EasyJet wait for no man, and I didn't want to turn back into a pumpkin. Step we gaily!

Friday 18 September

I can't imagine there's a more frightening sight anywhere than the clambering masses descending on the Tesco stand at the end of The Dairy Event, to clear the shelves of dairy products. As a veteran of Scottish "scrambles" at weddings, I fully understand why the good Lord gave us elbows. But I mean, come on. The scavengers take everything. I saw one try to carry off Emma, but she wouldn't fit in his bag. Missing from the stampede regrettably, and this year's winner of the Dairy UK "Lost in France" award, was Barbie from the WFU. Her husband, who works for the AA, punched an eight instead of a B into the sat nav system and they ended up in Northampton. Whoops!

Barbie, clearly deciding she wouldn't need the sat nav for the return journey, did, however, get to taste the free beer at the DairyCo stand. Free beer for the people is a tried and tested vote winner, unless of course your stand gets so crowded the punters can't read the message boards. Alas, it seemed to me that that was indeed the outcome. Amanda, DairyCo's Head of Issues and Image Management, was inadvertently pushed to the side. Her enquiring glance elicited the response "I was only trying to get the Ball rolling".

The Dairy Council Board meeting was held at The Dairy Event and this re-engaged me with ebullient Chairman, Alexander the Great. ATG created some initial consternation by insisting that we all stood up for the meeting. Further probing revealed the truth that he had participated in a 55-mile bike ride from Glasgow to Edinburgh, which he claimed he did in "7 – 15". Now I can certainly verify that it's around 55 miles from Glasgow to Edinburgh, but no-one had the nerve to ask ATG if his time was seven hours, fifteen minutes, or seven days and fifteen hours. But the clever idea from the bike ride was how the milk being handed out was being vocally marketed by the canvassers as "sports' milk". "Get your sports' milk here", was the cry, and if you think about it, there is no limit to the functional characteristics which could prefix the word milk, to promote the aspiration of elite performance. "Get your tree felling/limbo dancing/javelin throwing/etc etc milk here". For the time being, we'll leave the rest of it to the Viagra marketers.

Taken as a whole, the mood of The Dairy Event, and of the Dairy UK Conference which preceded it, was definitely one of optimism. Reportedly, the farmers were buying machines, and palpably, processors are investing capital in competitiveness-enhancing equipment for the future – most of it in the added-value sector. On our stand, we only got one unhappy farmer, despite clearly the tough time on milk price. The vast majority are now focused on profit growth, through enhanced business performance, and this is excellent. The ostriches are now more or less confined to the Farmers Guardian's soap box corner, where the limitless pessimistic rhetoric continues to be pedalled mercilessly.

I am writing this blog in Berlin and tomorrow I'll be giving a presentation to international dairy economists on global industry trends. So I'm "having a look". Believe me, the UK is preparing for the future much better than most other countries – both inside and outside the EU. In simple terms the greater the exposure to the world market, the greater the uncertainty, and the greater the concern. All of us face volatility, but in the UK, in my view, we are in a better position than most. There was some great information communicated at our conference from real experts and my grateful thanks go to Messrs Jay Waldvogel, Sandy Wilkie, Ian Dudden, Professor Quintin McKellar, Michael Barker, Andy Smith, Mark Allen, Adam Leyland, Fergus McReynolds and Jane King. We have all of it in sound and vision, and if you are a Dairy UK member, you can have it on request. Friends will have to pay.

Finally, my old mucker, Col Willie's' presentation, is also available, both unabridged and in a family version. On this note, I have had some complaints, including from the Dairy UK Chairman, about a perception that our conference and dinner were "over Scottishfied". Help ma boab, I hadn't noticed it myself. But if the Dairy UK Chairman is unhappy, I have to be concerned. So, next year I guarantee there will be song sheets so that the English can join in the singing. Dinnae fach yirsels, lads, Brits wha hae!

Friday 11 September

The future's bright, the future's... purple

Many thanks to all the generous messages I received after that plucky band of Bravehearts exited the World Cup this week, despite clearly scoring a goal which was wrongly ruled out by the ref. So effusive have the messages been that I beat a hasty exit to Northern Ireland. I found the Irish in a spirited mood. We were there to try and unravel a little knot in the development of our policy on milk quotas. Not surprisingly, with their focus very firmly on the next big thing in the world markets, many in the Province want to keep every tool in the box, including quotas... just in case the road to Utopia proves bumpy. When people are in good spirits, solutions are generated quicker and, after a good discussion, I'm sure we'll find a route to a common policy.

In my absence, Dairy UK had been invaded by Australians. The Aussie dairy industry does more world tours than Status Quo, and they always come to Dairy UK because we've got the sharpest ideas for them to steal. As usual, we had assembled a glittering cast of experts to advise them, including the reformation, for one appearance only, of the former NFU double act of Tom and Emma. In a role reversal, the former pupil is now the mistress, and I mean mistress with a capital T. So she took the chair while the rest of the group kneeled on cushions around the floor, which she seemed happy with. Phew! Everyone was spirited. By the time I met them, the Australians were satiated with knowledge. "Just give us some water to take home for the cows, Jim mate, and we'll be off to Lords". I thought, "that's the spirit". These people are always welcome at Dairy UK.

Earlier in the week, I'd made another failed attempt to penetrate the DairyCo office. I got to the front door, but no further. I've now christened the AHDB premises "the Tardis". You push a button at the front door, and any one of a thousand people emerges. This time, the button generated Cannon and Ball (I bet you wondered where they'd got to, eh? They're now called Di and Amanda and believe me - they're just as funny as ever). We flounced off to the Italian-style terrace of the Stoneleigh caff to have a very productive 'al fresco' meeting on School Milk. The guys were spirited; so spirited that when were invaded by a swarm of wasps, Cannon and Ball's solution was to gobble down all four pieces of cake to deprive the insects of their fodder. 'What a sacrifice,' I thought. Wonderful. When people are spirited, solutions are generated faster.

Later in the day I watched Derren Brown predict the lottery numbers live on TV. I've hired him to help with Dairy UK's financial planning. Maybe he could also predict the make up of our liquid milk industry in future. But, that's too easy for a man of his calibre. Milk is going lower fat, without a doubt. I've spent a lot of time this week looking at and discussing this issue. You might think we are already a low-fat industry but for 3½ / 1½ / ½, it is soon likely to be 3 / 1 / 0 or something close to it. For a number of reasons, this is good and to be encouraged. However, it's going to take a lot of planning and preparation if you are selling or marketing liquid milk. So for those of our members in this business, my advice is get thinking about it now. You wouldn't want to be left behind.

Finally, why is everyone so spirited? Because the dairy markets seem to be a little more optimistic and this makes people spirited. And when people are spirited, solutions come faster. Long may it continue.

Friday 4 September

Roll up, roll up for the greatest show on earth

The Dairy UK Annual Conference and Dinner rolls into town on 15 September. We have scoured the four corners of the globe to deliver a brand new cast of mystical magicians, high wire specialists, prophets and soothsayers who can genuinely see into the future, or give their money back. Right now, they are feverishly polishing their crystal balls in Campbeltown, Chicago, and all points east of the Orient. They will excite and enthral you with their wisdom. You will be able to see them, hear them and touch them. You will become like them. You will understand the future.

In the evening, you will feast on a sumptuous repast of good and healthy food (bring your own salt). It will be a Bacchian extravaganza like you've never seen or experienced before. There will be minstrels, jugglers, acrobats, fire eaters and men on a flying trapeze. Everyone will walk on water to get into the room, and sit next to an A-list celebrity. The music will come from the Beatles and Michael Jackson and the climax will be a live rocket launch to the moon. The next morning, you'll waken up and imagine you must have dreamt it all. But as you head back to your farms, factories and offices you will be inspired to take this great industry of ours forward. And you will recognise that in the world of Dairy UK, everything is possible.

Back on earth, as we move into the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, the Dairy UK Board meeting this was week was bedecked with summer sun tans. And yet after a week in the Dublin rain, it was the Queen Bee who dazzled. Her blinding oratory blew away the post vacation lethargy and inspired the Board into a series of sharply focused policy decisions and action points on health claims, nutrient profiling, and dairy composition. These will be deftly implemented by the team during the autumn. Governments, media, and consumers should now hold their breath in expectation and awe as the pincer movements begin.

We also awaited the publication this week of the WRAP report in Scotland, the highlight of which was to be the fact that 30% of food in Scotland is wasted each year. WRAP had warned us in advance that milk would be highly prominent. When the figures come out, we noted that 30% for all food compared with only 6% for milk. Now, I mean every drop's a prisoner, but doesn't that make us the heroes? So Curly highlighted the efforts made by the industry through prudent product development in our press release. I've also asked Curly to advise WRAP on how to deal with another little complexity brought out by their survey. Another big waste area appears to be alcohol. Is the message then, stop waste by drinking more? I'm available to help if necessary. Form an orderly queue.

I'm on the road again this week with scheduled visits to Stoneleigh, Droitwich, Taw Valley, Holborn, Belfast, Holborn, Stourton, Holborn, and Baker Street. I'm not sure yet what I'm doing in the afternoons. But you can clearly see the subject area which occupies most of my time these days.

And finally I am indebted to Geoff Platt, erstwhile editor of The Milk Industry who relayed this true apocryphal story to me. In a queue in a motorway cafe, Geoff was asked by a man wearing a dog collar, what his "Proud of Dairy" badge was. He explained that it was a campaign to support milk. Surprised, the man said, "Oh, does milk need support?" Geoff explained that milk had sustained people for centuries but now it was getting a bad press and was under attack from Government. "Ah", said the man. "Just like the Church of England. Maybe we should have a badge like that too."

Friday 28 August

Italy is a fantastic country

They get so many things stunningly right (eg Sr Berlusconi's cabinet, etc). Remarkable things happen in Italy. I was standing amongst the Pompeii ruins when I received a text from our respected colleague Ash Amirahmadi from Arla. Don't you think it's incredible to be standing in Pompeii and getting a call from someone called Ash? I took this as a signal and glanced round at Vesuvius. Fortunately no flames were licking around its crusty edges.

Have you ever been to the beautiful Villa Cimbrone in Ravello? The gardens contain pathways called "The Avenue of the Immense." and the "Terrace of Infinity". The guide book describes if literally as "heaven on earth".  Hold on, I thought heaven on earth is how I see Dairy UK. So I'm considering renaming some parts of the office. The main corridor could be Supinity St, my office could be the "Valley of Fulfilment", and the Dairy Council area could be "The Pool of Enchantment" The Board Room will stay "The William Wallace Room" – you can't better that. Further suggestions are of course welcome.

What is remarkable is the amount of cheese eaten in Italy. I reckon more than 90% of the meals I ate included cheese – mostly in huge chunky wedges that put shame to the FSA's recommended portion sizes. And for evening meals on top of the cheese came Parmigiano Reggiano.  I reflected that the EFSA HQ was only up the road in Parma and that is good. At least the officials there must have a real awareness of the importance of cheese to the industry, the country, and to the generation of pleasure. I wonder if there is any space in their office for the FSA?

Back at the helm, I was delighted to see new locks on the sweetie jar at Dairy UK (this after The Dairy Council girls had forced open the old ones). Disappointingly an early arrival at the office led me to discover the Queen Bee munching on a chocolate biscuit at 08.15 a.m. She explained that this was to help her recover from her gyrotronics class.  If I ever find out what that is, I'll know if it's a valid justification.

I find that it's quite revealing to flick through a fortnight's press clippings at once. You can see clearer trends.  And the thing which struck me most was the way the world's Governments are now falling over themselves to provide funds for the dairy industry – not subsidies but constructive investments for the future. In particular I confess to reading with green eyes about the new £77million dairy research centre to be established in Melbourne – with a third of the funds from the Government. What an advantage in the fully liberalised dairy markets of the future that is going to give them.

I was so impressed, that I was going to make it the main subject of this blog. But then I saw "The One Programme" on BBC TV. It featured a piece on Health Claims and the work being done by EFSA to validate health and nutrition claims against the scientific evidence available. Our own FSA was there saying how this would help consumers make fairer judgements about claims. At the risk of being designated Father Jim for my preaching on this subject, believe me there is a major procedural flaw in the way in which the science has been submitted to EFSA by national authorities, and the way that EFSA is evaluating the claims, and we in the dairy industry threaten to be victims of this if generic health and nutrition claims on dairy are to be rejected. So we'd better get that message out soon before the finger-pointing about food processors misleading consumers for years which was the clear message from "The One" programme, becomes commonplace .

Sermon over, I return again to the venerable Dairy UK Treasurer Mr Evans for the lightest moment of my trip to Italy. As I complained to him about my wife's tendency to demand a budget-busting double espresso instead of just asking for a coffee, he said "When I was a young buck in the valleys all of the women I met drank gin and tonic. On the other hand, all my mate's girlfriends were happy with a half of mild". The grass is always greener!

Friday 21 August

Short, sharp and to the point

Foreshortened burblings this week, dear readers. In an effort to offset the verbosity of the Dear Leader's contributions, and lower our carbon footprint, this week's thoughts are brought to you in bullet points.

• After news that you can get a qualification for boarding a bus, Dairy UK is to launch training for answering the buzzer, safe use of the photocopier and biscuit eating.

• Please come to our conference on 15 September. Please.

• After a good week for Usain Bolt and world sprint records, The Queen Bee and her hive of nutritionists are trying to ascertain whether he drinks milk to repair muscle damage and rehydrate. The real question, though, is could he break the 9-second barrier if he drank a bit more?!

• There are already worrying signs that the Dear Leader has not had a fully relaxing stay in sunny Italy – no doubt brought about in part by temperatures above his native 12 degrees. This does not bode well for Monday morning.

• Now, all eyes back to the Oval, where the Aussies are being taught cricket.

Friday 14 August

'Debate' on food security continues

The Dear Leader is off sampling the delights of British cuisine in foreign parts this week, namely Italy. What with Glasgow making a bid to trademark chicken tikka masala under Europe's barmy PDO scheme, he'll have been confined to sampling Italian classics such as fish-and-a-cheeps and Mars bar alla carbonara. Anyway, the minions have been let off the leash this week. Not that you'd have known if you'd visited the anthill that is Dairy UK headquarters.

On Monday came Defra's ground shaking announcement that it is still planning to talk some more about food security before arriving at any conclusions. Even in the news vacuum that is August, this received a fairly muted response from the papers. Dairy UK has spent the week scouring the announcement for novelty of any kind and has so far drawn a blank.

That didn't stop some of the more hysterical lobby groups from accusing officials of selling out the planet by not immediately banning meat, dairy and anything else that tastes good. Their argument was based on FAO figures estimating global livestock emissions. Of course, the picture in the UK is different. Flying the two miles to work with Ryanair every morning, dropping off little Petunia for ballet and trucking Chinese-made goods the length and breadth of the land produces 21% of our carbon emissions. Dairy cows are more modest, producing just 1.2%. A letter to this effect has been despatched (electronically, of course) by Fergus the Green.

Meanwhile, the phones continue to ring off the hook with concerned local TV producers asking for interviews on the plight of the dairy industry. One of them got the idea that the UK milk market was being undermined by Polish imports, and the 'news' spread like wildfire. Curly, aka Cap'n Birdseye, has spent much of the week putting the kybosh on such nonsense. After all, everyone knows that the flow of vehicles is generally one way between the UK and Eastern Europe. And it tends to be BMWs rather than Volvo tankers...

Friday 7 August, 2009

Busy as bees at Dairy UK

We had a crisis at Dairy UK this week, almost requiring a senior managerial intervention. Curly has imposed a new office environmental policy, which limits our electricity use. But this week's meeting of the Comms Directors used up our entire quota, with the agenda still at 'minutes of the last meeting'. Now, these guys can blether for England, but it's money that makes the world go round, so I was tempted to throw the switch and really test the boys' ability to turn darkness into light. What stopped me was the sight of the Queen Bee on the verge of collapse, induced by the excess of hot air. Cutting the aircon was out, though my fingers stayed itchy and it was a close run thing. Instead, I'm having a sprinkler system installed ahead of the next Comms Group meeting.

It's been a spectacularly busy week across the board at Dairy UK – in complete contrast to advice once given to me by a colleague, that in July and August the only things which should be on your desk by 9.30am each day are your feet. Fergus the Green has been jousting very successfully in the media with the worryingly misinformed MP Alan Whitehead, on how well the dairy industry is meeting its packaging recycling targets. Edmund has spent most of the week on the floor, overwhelmed with the number of EU and UK institutions that want to provide us with funds to promote our products. And I've been wrestling alongside the industry CEOs with our friends at the FSA, as we try to find a way of travelling along the same road to a common destination: removing some of the saturated fat from mainstream dairy products. Meanwhile, Simon has been out recruiting members while I've been pushing forward the quality and reputation of Dairy UK in other ways!

But it's what the Queen Bee and Dr Ed are doing that requires the most priority as the monsoon season progresses. You've heard me prattle on before about health claims, and the way by in which the EU Commission decides whether the science justifies the claim. Their evaluation process has been shambolic and displays all the scientific rigour of a Uri Geller spoon-bending session. Now, it's not the fault of EFSA (European Food Safety Authority). They've had the difficulty of their jobs intensified by national governments who have merged the claims to make them simpler. But as we know from our work on traffic lights: science and simplification are enemies of each other, not friends.

Either way, the dairy industry will be the losers and come September, when we anticipate the first batch of rejected dairy claims, the 'antis' will be screaming from the rooftops telling Government 'I told you so'. As an industry, we must get our arguments out there early. By the time the leaves are falling to the ground in autumn, it'll be too late.

Friday 31 July, 2009

From Pussy Cat Dolls to market intervention

Much criticism has been volleyed at me because this week I attended a Pussy Cat Dolls concert. The fact that it took place no more than a decent three wood away from my house has not impressed the musical cognoscenti in the office, including Curly and Fergus the Green. In fact, I found it an enlightening and inspiring experience - a bit like a Dairy Council staff meeting, but with rhythm. Enlightening, that is, apart from the relentless, unremitting, torrential bloody rain. Cow shows are of course not immune from rain either and again this week, visitors to the Nantwich show rushed for cover into the cheese tent. There they cleared out a year's worth of material and stock from the joint Dairy UK/Dairy Council/British Cheese Board stand. What with all the rain, I've changed my holiday plans at short notice from Stonehaven to Sorrento, while Fergus the Green has been instructed to sort out the Climate Change issue by the time I get back.

Nantwich now claims to be the biggest cheese show in the world - 2,665 entries I believe, with exhibitors in the cheese tent pressed breathlessly against the sides of the marquee to accommodate the cheese. In the middle of all this, I found Tintin, a Belgian processor friend of mine who appraised me on progress with the various market 'interventions' by groups of retailers, Governments, and competition authorities in Belgium, Germany, France and now it seems, Spain. Gesticulating wildly, Tintin screamed, "zese people will do anysing to get ze farmers off ze streets", adding, "Ah don't care; ah'm just ze messenger – eet iz nuhsing to do wiz me".

Oh really, I thought, making a mental note to send him a copy of the OFT Annual Report. Because it's a training manual for the future, I carry the Commission's 22 July policy paper with me everywhere. I even read it in the bath. It says two things quite clearly - first, 'that competition law plays a key role in maintaining a level playing field' (para 10.2). Second, 'competition authorities at EU and national level should remain vigilant and effectively co-operate with a view to addressing any potential anti-competitive practices which affect dairy markets' (para 10 intro). So, boys, go to it. Mariann has spoken - she wants a level playing field and so do we. We cannot reasonably approach the future where the ongoing profitability of dairy farms and processors in the EU is down to the social conscience of our customers.

Finally, mention the word salty in front of an Aussie, and he'll immediately dive for cover, because in Queensland it's a salt water, man-eating crocodile. Mention the same word at Nantwich and you'll get rapturous applause, because 'salty' refers to Alan Salt, this year's winner of the British Cheese Board's cheese industry award for lifetime achievement. Well done, Salty; a well-deserved and popular accolade, but take some advice from me - never go to the Gold Coast on holiday. You'll terrify the locals!