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I remember typing pools...

Steve Bridger

I remember my first day at work. The summer of 1981. County Hall. The smell of polished corridors and trolleys laden three-feet high with leaver arch files and buff folders. I opened a door and there it was: The Typing Pool. Page 3 of The Sun were always plastered on the walls of the printing unit whenever I was asked to make errands. We still had a few discussion threads on that topic in the early days here - in 2004!


And I've seen Made in Dagenham, the movie!


I only mention this as the CIPD published a report called Work Audit today, a fascinating look at how the world of work has changed
in Britain since 1952.


I thought we could share our own compelling vignettes of social history comparing changes in the way we work.


What do you reckon?


Steve

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  • Loving the tales on this thread!


    My first job (about 6 weeks one summer back in 198*cough*) was at a kitchen goods distributor. I had to cut down 12ft aluminium planks into shorter 1ft segments in order to make hotplates for Indian/Chinese restaurants. This involved a very fast revolving metal cutting wheel and a cracked plastic safety guard (goggles were provided, not that they were particularly good).


    When I look back at this I'm mortified at the non-existent safety briefing I had before starting the task. It consisted of some bloke in a classic beige foreman's long jacket saying "push this button, pull that lever, turn this dial and don't put your hand in there, mate, it's nasty".

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  • Loving the tales on this thread!


    My first job (about 6 weeks one summer back in 198*cough*) was at a kitchen goods distributor. I had to cut down 12ft aluminium planks into shorter 1ft segments in order to make hotplates for Indian/Chinese restaurants. This involved a very fast revolving metal cutting wheel and a cracked plastic safety guard (goggles were provided, not that they were particularly good).


    When I look back at this I'm mortified at the non-existent safety briefing I had before starting the task. It consisted of some bloke in a classic beige foreman's long jacket saying "push this button, pull that lever, turn this dial and don't put your hand in there, mate, it's nasty".

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