Will’s World: Rats, red tape and a reluctant re-education

One thing I really enjoy as a fully grown adult man of 47 years of age: having to give up an entire day to sit in a classroom and be told a load of things that I already knew, just so I can get a piece of paper that enables me to keep doing something that I’ve been doing for years.

It’s even better when I have to pay for the privilege of doing it. In this case £145, but if I factor in my time as well, the cost probably comes to about £500.

See also: How switch to organic has improved forage for two farms.

Remember when we could just blame every nonsense regulation on the EU? Those were the days.

Whatever happened to that much-promised post-Brexit bonfire of red tape?

Smokescreen

Whenever and wherever it’s happening, I know it won’t be in our spray store, because last time the Red Tractor inspector was here, she pointedly informed me that a standard “no smoking” sign on the door wasn’t adequate.

What I required was a “no smoking OR naked flames” sign.

This being a family magazine, I won’t tell you what the old man said when I informed him of this perplexing development.

But let’s hope the great British public feel assured about the standard of their food, now they know for sure that the Evans aren’t burning things willy-nilly next to their tremendously expensive fungicides.

But I digress, because in this instance I’m talking about the new rodenticide regulations that come into force on 1 January.

Any of us who battle with mice and rats on our farms need to gain the updated qualification to stay compliant.

I believe if you’ve done the training within the past five years then you don’t have to do it, but because I did mine a while back, I’m obviously not considered competent enough to fill up a bait box or two next to a feed shed.

So it was off to the classroom for me, for a day of forced re-education.

God knows what will happen if you try to purchase a box of poison in 2026 without the relevant piece of paper. I assume some sort of alarm will go off and a horde of government security officers will descend to drag you off to a gulag.

Or perhaps Rachel Reeves will personally show up to confiscate your farm.

School daze

The thing is, I didn’t like being in school the first time around, sitting there for several hours having to take in a lot of information.

Being shown various slides and videos, and participating in group exercises, isn’t my cup of tea.

I find it impossible to concentrate for anywhere near that long. Judging by my fellow farming inmates, I wasn’t the only one.

We even had an exam at the end, with the whole “turn your papers over now” vibe going on, which gave me horrendous flashbacks to sweaty sports halls of the early 1990s.

Thankfully, I passed, so that’s an improvement on my school days anyway.

I should clarify that the bloke running the training was very nice and professional, and we all got some lovely sandwiches, pork pies and Scotch eggs at lunchtime, which almost made the whole thing worthwhile.

And I understand the point of it. With active ingredients increasingly under threat, we all need to be responsible and make sure we’re minimising our impact on the environment and non-target species, such as barn owls.

But still, for the love of taxpayer’s money, couldn’t the whole thing be done in just a few hours online?