Ever wondered what’s happened to all the data that big business or
bureaucracy gathered about you in the pre-computer years? I have,
and if a letter I received the other day is anything to go by, they neither
know nor care.

A short time ago I learned that as an MBF member I would be entitled
to a payment as part of the scheme to combine with another
group, with my allocation based on my years of membership.

Now as I joined MBF way back in 1952, I thought I might be in for a handsome
payout … until I found that the cut-off period on which eligibility would be based was 30 years. This meant that my 26 years of membership before the cut-off counted for nothing.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I exercised my right of appeal for reconsideration. I reminded MBF that my length of membership had been featured in an article I wrote for the fund’s own magazine Living Well in 1992.

In that article I sang the praises of MBF, and at a time when it was desperately seeking to retain members, gave my reasons for loyally sticking with it.

Back came a polite reply in effect saying “No deal”. Why? Because “While MBF wished to recognise the past contribution and loyalty of its longstanding contributors, as a practical matter it could only provide a tenure allocation for the period for which it holds reliable records for all participating contributors.

"Before November 1, 1978, membership data only existed in hard copy form.

"While some participating contributors have retained their own documentary evidence of their membership before 1978, others have not. In order to ensure that all participating contributors are treated fairly and equably, the maximum tenure was set at 30 years.”

So MBF, it seems, does not hold reliable records for all members before 1978, and despite its protestations of wanting to recognise loyalty, it can’t or won’t.

Instead of laughing all the way to the bank, then, I’ll be re-evaluating loyalty. Clearly, it’s a one-way street.

More disturbing than the size of my cheque, though, is my renforced conviction that big business and bureaucracy have taken us too far down the D-word track.

Deeming that something has or has not happened is now a frequently used tool, and in my case, as with others in the same situation, MBF seems to have deemed that we weren’t MBF members before 1978 because our paper files have been dumped, shredded or lost.

And another thing: Thumbing idly through the Daily’s Style magazine on Saturday, I found myself wondering why high-fashion models look so glum and often, downright surly.

Yes, I know my opinion is not of even passing interest to fashionistas, and yes, it’s the clothes that are on show, not the models, but surely just the hint of an enthusiastic smile might help the sales pitch.

And for waiting-room browsers like me, it would make a pleasant alternative to wall-to-wall celebrity sleaze.

rich.29@bigpond.net.au