After coronavirus, there has to be an examination of the procurement system

Somewhere along the way I missed my true vocation. Or perhaps I found it, but I’ve just not made as much money as others have with theirs.

This thought came to me, not for the first time it must be said, while I was queuing for a private Covid test. There was a possibility I might have to fly, and the destination country required a valid negative certificate. I was outside a church hall near where I live. Cars were coming and going, dropping off and collecting people having, and paying for, tests. It was a steady stream. When it was my turn, I had to pay £265 – it was extra because I wanted the result within 24 hours. My credit card was swiped, I was pointed in the direction of a cubicle, a woman in a blue uniform stuck a swab up my nose and in the back of my throat. All done, in and out of the building in less than 10 minutes. As I left, more people were arriving and waiting.

Let me see, let’s allow £265 for a 10-minute slot, two folks doing the tests, 10 hours a day - £31,800 a day. Seven days a week. There were three staff booking appointments, filling in the forms and taking the money. Then there’s the laboratory and the equipment to pay for. But whichever way you cut it, the profits must be huge. It’s been like that for months and the longer the vaccine takes to roll out to the masses, it is going to stay like that for a while.

The private testers join the others who have done very well, thank you, from this pandemic, the suppliers of PPE. They include the chap who used to run the pub in Matt Hancock’s constituency and landed a deal to sell the government plastic phials. Test and Trace workers spent hardly any time working as £22 billion was “thrown at” efforts to “avert a lockdown,” a report from the National Audit office has found. Outsourcing providers were retained without proper scrutiny to prevent conflicts of interest and waste. After 18,000 call handlers were employed in May, their “utilisation rates” were one per cent. Workers were effectively being paid to watch Netflix; one was paid £4,500 without receiving a single call. 

Later that same day after the test we went to buy our Christmas tree. It was not a dissimilar experience: pop-up premises, temporary staff, flash of my bank card and entry of my number. My mind was cast back, to the timeshare floggers of yesteryear, to those who were pushing PPI (and those who now ring up to see if you we’re mis-sold PPI and might have a claim), to the smooth talkers who try to convince you that you really do need double-glazing and the geezers who would like to steam clean your patio or resurface your drive. To them can be added the people who will tap you up for an extended warranty, those who will tell you it’s worth having solar panels on your roof, and the wind turbine installers. Where did that last lot come from? One minute, windmills don’t exist, then they’re everywhere, dotted across hill tops and out at sea. What were they doing before wind energy was deemed a must? Indeed, what were the private testers doing before the virus?

If the ubiquitous snake oil salesman were still around today he would not be lost for opportunity to try out his patter. I think that usually I can see through the charm and the chat, and sometimes, as with the test and the tree, I have no choice than to succumb. Yes, it makes me irritated, but I accept it – I could not get a test done in time anywhere else, and if we’re going to have a real tree where else are we going to get it from than from the lads who have taken over part of the car park down the road?

But those running the country, charged with spending our money wisely, they should know better. Or rather, they ought to have proper processes in place to ensure they purchase something that represents good value. Buying products that actually work and can be delivered in sufficient quantities would be a decent place to start. When the pandemic is over and we return to what we can still just about recall as normal, we must not let this rest.

Along with the inquiries into the government’s response and the handling of particular areas such as care homes, there has to be an examination of the procurement system. While the Whitehall machine was blindsided (that can be the subject of a separate study – why were we so unprepared for sweeping, deadly infection) and had to act quickly, there can be no excuse for mates and those with connections in the right places getting access and their wares sold, and then worse, in some cases, those items turning out to be useless.

The feeling I’ve had for years now, and it stems from covering sessions of the House of Commons Public Accounts Committee and watching senior officials squirm as they were grilled on the contracts they’d struck, is that civil servants and their bosses, the ministers, are too easily bamboozled as soon as they meet the business world. It was incredible how often it was those in charge of buying defence equipment who came before the beaks to be put through the mill. Too frequently they did not seem to have a clue and were easy prey to the commercial sharks.

Perhaps I should attempt to join the profit-makers. I can moan about them, or I could attempt to earn riches by becoming one of them. What I’m looking for then are suitable premises, instruction in how to install a secure payments system, pointers to online recruitment sites and advertising and posters. Oh, and the gift of the gab and the next new big thing. I’m ready.