SEE IT, SAY IT, SOD IT

It’s not very good is it. I mean, how many people go "Wow, yes, I now feel empowered to play my part in keeping Britain’s railways safe". And how many people just go "it’s not very good is it"?

Which isn't what you'd expect from the railways. That pioneering force. That great British engine of social and cultural change. A hundred years ago the railways were busy changing the world, connecting our towns and cities, giving us all a way to get to work, and something to complain about when we got there. Before the railways we didn't even share the same time zone. And there was no WHSmith. And now what do they give us? Sloppy slogans and nonsensical announcements.

For example, when did it become necessary to remind us what a station does by putting the word 'stop' after it? And since when did things start 'arriving into' them? And how long has it been possible for something to be 'formed from' eight carriages. You'd think an organisation that spends all its time going to and from places would be on top of its propositions.


(And why do they bother telling us how many coaches there are anyway? Doesn't this qualify as unnecessary detail? You don’t get easyJet saying "the flight boarding at Gate 8 is 33.84 metres long and has 150 seats divided into 25 rows" do you? You kind of assume the number of carriages will be ... the right number of carriages. Unless the railway announcer feel it's only fair to keep us posted in case we wish to exercise our right to take that alternative, far longer and more luxuriously proportioned train going to the same place at the same time? Trouble is, there doesn't often seem to be one of those.) 

Anyway, back to the admirably well meaning See it, Say it, Sorted - a rallying cry to us wannabe vigilantes to rise up against the dastardly sorts who threaten our values and way of life. So let’s imagine a typical value-and-way-of-life-threatening-type scenario. Joe Bloggs finds a suspiciously abandoned package on the platform. What does he do? Racking his brains he remembers the catchy slogan played over the tannoy earlier. Now’s the time to put it into practice. Thank God the British Transport Police have prepared him for this moment! Now, let’s see - ‘See it' - yes he’s done that - ‘Say it’ - right that’s what he needs to do next. He needs to say it. He stands frozen to the spot while his fellow travellers back away down the platform to safety. Say what? What do they need him to say? They’ve told him to say something, but they haven’t told him what to say, or who to say it to.

Obviously the geniuses behind the slogan never got quite this far in their brainstorm. They reckoned that once the suspicious thing was seen, the rest would take care of itself. Forgetting that the word ‘say' - as used elsewhere in the english language - is normally accompanied by what it is that is being said. It’s that kind of word - it’s needy. Unlike its friends ‘talk’ and ‘speak’ who are far more independently minded. But unfortunately they can’t come before 'it’, so don’t qualify. Because of course the catchy rhythm and nifty alliteration are all-important. How else after all is Joe Bloggs going to remember it? And sure enough, Joe Bloggs has remembered it. The problem is, what he's remembered doesn’t mean anything.

There may well have been someone in that brainstorm - probably some spotty work placement oik - who had the nerve to suggest that it should really be 'report it'. Leading to a whole lot of rolling eyes and general groans of despair. What, blow the whole thing just to make it make sense?! What about the iambic pentameter? The blessed form of the Bard? The oik is clearly a disgrace to his profession - nay, his country’s proud literary heritage. Perhaps he’s not cut out for advertising after all and should consider an alternative career.

It would be nice to think that as he is dismissed from the ball pool he lets slip that 'Sort it' would also work much better than 'Sorted', following on more naturally from the previous phrases and rounding the whole thing off with a far more satisfying alliterative flourish. Which would no doubt have earned him a carefully aimed space hopper in the face courtesy of the Creative Director. Because of course 'Sort it' would clearly imply that Joe is able to deal with the situation entirely on his own. Just as he has 'seen it' and 'said it' on his own. Which of course he may not be able to do. It might, for example, need one of those funny little tank tracked robots to trundle in and prod it while everyone looks on from a safe distance.

Words are a powerful tool, the Creative director reminds us as he rises from the balls like some twattish overpaid phoenix. But if used incorrectly they can mislead and may cost lives. For just as we are playing our part in protecting passengers from the danger of terrorism, it is beholden to the railways, as a great and proud British institution to protect the integrity of the Queen's English, upholding at all times the highest possible standards in written and spoken language. After all we don’t want Joe Bloggs rushing in with his wire cutters under the misapprehension he’s suddenly a bomb disposal expert, just because we plumped for the imperative instead of the past participle do we?

No we don’t. We want him to stand frozen on the spot trying to make sense of it all. We want people to overlook the guy in Nero with the bomb vest because they’re too busy listening to the tannoy and thinking ‘that’s not very good is it’. And wondering why, under this day and age, an institution we all rely about, can care so little around the way it speaks towards us.


@jesoverthinksit 





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