TOM UTLEY asks: Why can’t meddlesome politicians stop smothering business?

Until recently, it was my habit to stop once a week at my favorite deli, which I pass on my way home from walking the dog in the park.

There I bought a few slices of the exquisite store-bought Italian ham with rosemary and a jar of artichoke hearts or plump green olives in spiced oil—killerly expensive, but worth every penny, in my book.

That was until a while ago when yellow lines appeared on the road opposite the sandwich shop, making parking nearby much more difficult. Since then, I haven’t shopped there nearly as much as I did in the past, forgoing my once-normal treat except on those rare occasions when I see an empty space.

I suspect others who used to come from far and wide to sample the deli’s delicacies have stayed away for the same reason. Whatever the truth, those yellow lines can only be bad for business.

Don’t ask me why the council felt it necessary to restrict parking on that particular stretch of road, which was always wide enough for two trucks to pass in opposite directions, with plenty of room to spare even with cars parked on both sides.

‘A more dramatic example than those yellow lines is how London Mayor Sadiq Khan’s £15 daily congestion charge… sucks the commercial heart out of the capital’

But then if you give politicians the power to stop us from doing whatever suits or pleases us, you can bet they’ll use it – no matter how much damage it might do to those corporations that pay the taxes and corporate rates on which public services depend on.

READ MORE: TOM UTLEY: Joyless Jeremy not only insulted my pint, he punishes all my vices

My difficulty in finding a parking spot near the deli is, of course, a very trivial illustration of how regulation by local or state governments stifles economic activity. (I won’t mention the crippling effect of the smoking ban on the pub trade, or regular readers will begin to think I’m obsessed!)

A more dramatic example than those yellow lines is how London Mayor Sadiq Khan’s daily congestion charge of £15 – with an additional £12.50 for older vehicles venturing into his ultra-low emission zone, which he plans to expand – commercial heart sucks from the capital.

Indeed, just about everything this wretched man does – in those rare moments when he’s not posing for yet another photoshoot, or babbling on TV, in that peculiar way he mixes up his words (“lemmebeperficklyclear”), blames all his shortcomings giving on the government – seems calculated to make London a less attractive place to do business.

But you don’t have to live in the capital to understand how over-regulation is the enemy of growth, which alone can rescue us from the economic pit and lead us back to prosperity.

For those who haven’t yet seen the first two series, I highly recommend Clarkson’s Farm, on Amazon Prime, for the dazzling light it sheds on the difficulties farmers face in their struggles to make a living and produce food. get our tables while national and local bureaucrats do everything they can to frustrate them. I must confess that when friends first urged me to watch it, I rejected their advice, thinking a series about Jeremy Clarkson’s experiment with farming in the Oxfordshire countryside sounded rather boring.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first few dozen episodes of his car show Top Gear, as I share both his youthful love of cars and his politically incorrect outlook on life.

But the truth is, I was getting tired of all the boyish banter with his co-hosts, James May and Richard Hammond, and those formulaic, clearly rigged races between sports cars and hang gliders, speedboats and the like.

I felt Clarkson had entertained me enough.

“When I finally got around to watching Clarkson’s Farm, starting with series one, episode one earlier this month, I immediately realized how right my friends had been”

But when I finally got around to watching Clarkson’s Farm starting with series one episode one earlier this month, I immediately realized how right my friends had been.

Having binge-watched series one and two, I am now longing for series three. (I’m happy to say rumors wouldn’t be shown after Mr. C’s shockingly over-the-top abuse of Meghan Markle appears to be unfounded.)

Admittedly, the show is clearly not a painstakingly accurate portrayal of the average British farmer’s struggle against adversity.

After all, unlike Clarkson, most who try to make a living from farming can’t throw hundreds of thousands of pounds out of Amazon’s unlimited resources for every problem that arises: buying high-end machinery and labour-saving devices, building outbuildings, or buying sheep, cattle and chickens whenever they want.

But the stellar cast of characters makes each episode a compelling spectacle, often laughably funny and occasionally moving, even for a cynical old-towner like me.

I especially like Kaleb, the lippy young local of Chipping Norton who knows everything there is to know about farming, and absolutely nothing about anything. Then there’s Charlie, the quiet, patient, sensible, highly knowledgeable land agent, who makes it his hopelessly futile mission to inject a bit of reality into Clarkson’s foolish schemes for such projects as opening a farm shop, brewing beer of his barley and starting a restaurant in a small converted barn in the middle of a field.

Another star of the show is the unfailingly soft-spoken, ever-smiling Gerald, whose unintelligible thick local accent (unintelligible, at least to most not born and raised around Chipping Norton) is a hilarious running gag on both series.

But while many scenes are undoubtedly artificially staged, and unrealistic as it is in many ways, I wouldn’t hesitate to describe Clarkson’s Farm as a genuine educational program, if only because of the way it exposes the ghastly bureaucratic hoops where ordinary farmers have to jump through. to survive from day to day.

I am thinking not only of the West Oxfordshire District Council’s bloodthirsty refusal to allow Clarkson a car park next to his farm shop, or to open his restaurant in a large lamb shed which he has adapted for this purpose, when the chances of significantly expanded both ventures to bring employment to the area and provide a lucrative market for neighboring farms.

I also think of the page after page of Whitehall forms that farmers must fill out, under regulations governing everything from animal welfare to worker health and safety, under penalty of losing their livelihoods if there is a cubicle that not tick them.

In any case, for me the program was a real eye-opener. So whatever your opinion of Mr. Clarkson – and I know he’s far from everyone’s cup of tea – if you have access to Prime, give it a go.

Members of parliament and councilors will of course always advocate for any new regulation they enforce. Those Oxfordshire councilors who refused planning permission will say they have a strict obligation to preserve the beauty of the area (never mind that the beauty in question was created primarily by farmers who exploit the land for the cost).

Similarly, Defra will say that every form it sends out is essential to ensuring the quality of the food supply and the health of both animals and the public.

Meanwhile, Sadiq Khan will argue that his ULEZ zone should be expanded and his congestion charges raised, in the interests of the planet and the health of London’s children’s lungs.

I dare say my local Lambeth councilors will even manage to come up with a plausible sounding reason for their decision to paint yellow lines on the road opposite my favorite deli.

I just wish MPs, councilors and quangocrats would pause a little longer before imposing new regulations to consider the effect they are likely to have on businesses and the economy.

God knows this country’s businesses, large and small, are in dire need of a boost after the grim years of lockdown brought with them the most crippling restrictive regulations in our history.

If politicians want my vote, they’d better start cutting rules instead of adding them. Or might as well encourage pigs to fly?