30 October 2014
 
A meeting room in the House of Commons. Faded glory everywhere, a make-over sorely needed, but still slightly intimidating. Twenty-eight people sitting in a loose circle; Sir Ken Knight chairing. Today, he's representing the Fire Sector Federation. I think. It's not easy to tell since Sir Ken is on a lot of boards, panels and committees. He has a lot of influence too; in fact he bagged this up-ish venue.
 
Mind you, we shouldn't have needed as large a space as this in the first place. When we met some of the Fire Protection Association (part of the FSF) recently, they demanded a second meeting and said it would be a small get-together with a few of their fire safety experts, to discuss the technical paper they'd also demanded Steve write (with my help). Before the meeting starts, Steve leans towards me and says, "Do you reckon all of these are fire safety experts?" In fact, many of those present are what are becoming the usual suspects: those with a fondness for flame retardants. For example, Mike Hagen is here, representing the Fire Safety Platform (a one-man operation). I've met Mike a couple of times since we had dinner with Bob Graham and a young guy from Chemtura back at the end of 2012. Last time we met, Mike he was still telling me that he's independent in his views despite being funded by the flame retardant industry.
 
And there's David King, who claims to represent the foam industry, even though the European Commission banned them from having representation after finding them guilty of forming a cartel and fining them around 40m euros in the process. His opposition to the new match test has been vocal, as well as voluminous, but without much actual substance, it has to be said.
 
A couple of places to my right is John Shipman ex of SATRA test house, now a freelance consultant. Many years ago, John and I went to Poland, along with a woman from Trading Standards. The plan was that John would give a 90 mins talk on testing for the Furniture Regs and Trading Standards would talk about enforcement. But when we arrived, the Chair told us that we were doing the entire meeting, in front of about 50 Polish furniture makers.
 
The reason for going to Poland was to persuade their furniture makers to stop selling furniture in the UK that doesn't comply with our Regulations. John was a star. He stepped up and gave an impromptu talk on the history of European furniture making, followed by his planned talk on the Furniture Regs. The first question from the audience after he'd finished was, "How do we get around these Regulations?" That night, in a proper Polish restaurant recommended by our Warsaw host, John showed courage in ordering a local delicacy - raw minced beef topped off with a raw egg.
 
John came to BIS this morning for a pre-meeting meeting. This was partly my idea, in order to provide Barbara with a friendly and knowledgeable test expert who could independently corroborate the technical paper - given that she didn't really understand it. She should have been satisfied enough that her Departmental expert and our official external expert did, but then she has been telling the Minister that more work needs to be done on the test, something the technical paper very much contradicts.
 
John, Babara, John Lord, Steve and myself had an interesting conversation until Steve said at one point, "You haven't read the technical paper, have you John?" We had sent it to him before this meeting and of course its contents are the main focus of both meetings today. John looked sheepish and admitted that he had only had time to glance at it so far. Which was a little hard to believe.
 
And during the course of the afternoon meeting, it becomes clear to me and Steve that few if any around the table have read it either, despite O'Neill demanding it in the first place. It's easy to assume that this is down to laziness. But in retrospect it's more likely that the real reason is they know the paper is going to convincingly blow out their arguments against the test. Solution? Don't read the paper. Okay, that doesn't look too good (although of course no one is actually going to admit they haven't read it) but it's better than reading it and having to admit that you can't beat it.
 
In short, this meeting is going to be a waste of time.
 
The first meeting with the FSF/FPA was at BIS. What happened was that Jon O'Neill, Secretary of the FPA had contacted colleagues at DCLG demanding that they immediately scrap the new match test. He was told that BIS was the Department responsible for the regulations (although it's difficult to believe he didn't actually know this anyway); that they agreed with BIS, joined up government and all that, and that any meeting should be at our place.
 
O'Neill was very rude over the arrangements, making it clear that we had usurped what he believed to be correct protocol which, apparently, meant the FPA/FSF should have the ultimate say on any fire safety regulatory changes. He brought along a motley collection of people, with Paul Fuller of the Chief Fire Officers Association chairing. John Lord was also present but as usual said next to nothing, leaving it to me and Steve to do the talking. Steve had prepared some excellent videos, for example showing what goes wrong if you drop a match near a sofa arm - the flame penetrating the cover and thin foam layer, igniting the flammable hessian and plastics beneath the surface, turning the sofa into an inferno in next to no time - even though the cover fabric on it passes the current match test.
 
Both of us were tired, frankly. This protest had come late from the FPA, after the consultation had closed. O'Neill claimed the FPA had not been consulted, which was a lie. First, they had made a consultation return; and second, I'd spent a day at their research lab near Moreton-in-Marsh, with their testing experts. I'd invited them to present us with ideas for putting together a new match test but they'd never responded.
 
Despite tiredness, Steve spoke for about twenty minutes, summing up the problems with the current test and how the new one would put them right. When he'd finished, one of our guests said, "That's brilliant, Steve. Thank you very much; that explains everything." We never saw him again. Throughout the meeting O'Neill sneered, tutted, clucked and generally made sure everyone knew how unhappy he was. Towards the end, he demanded another meeting, before which he wanted to see Steve's technical theory and evidence.
 
"No problem," said Steve.
 
Back at the House of Commons, Sir Ken opens proceedings by explaining that this meeting has arisen following concerns raised by the FSF about the new match test. The FSF had offered to assemble a Technical Panel to scrutinise and peer-review the BIS proposals, he says. This is somewhat rich when it transpires, as said, that our so-called peers have not even bothered to read the technical paper.
 
I then give a talk on the regulatory background to the changes, followed by Steve giving a technical talk. Once again, he shows videos that demonstrate the massive problems with the current test.
 
Then it's open discussion and the claim is made by a couple of people, that more work needs to be done on the new test. Barbara speaks after this and says, "We believe this new test will improve the regulations. You keep telling us it needs more work. What is this work, precisely?"
 
Leaving aside the irony of her raising this question, I'm pleased she has. And the ensuing reaction says everything.
 
Total silence.
 
Which is eventually broken by Jon O'Neill mumbling, "We'll have to give this further thought."
 
Let's pause here to reflect. BIS has spent nearly two years working on a new match test. It has been thoroughly researched and tested, and proven to be effective. At the same time, we've also proven that the current test is unsafe. We have been rudely challenged by the FPA/FSF, telling us that we need to let them peer-review the work (even though many of them were involved in the work in the first place) and they demanded a technical paper. They're given the paper but haven't read it. They've now admitted that they don't even know what the further work is that we must do on the new test.
 
Of course, a real Chair at this point would have called off the meeting and told the FSF to stop wasting the government's time. Instead, Sir Ken asks if there are any more points to consider. Which is when they come up with their fall-back idea, that the new test cannot proceed without the right test foam formula.
 
The match test requires cover fabrics to be tested over a slab of generic foam. In the current test, this is the old kind of polyurethane foam that is now illegal. The new test proposes using instead the combustion-modified, flame resistant foam that is actually found in furniture. It also provides a formula for this foam.
 
David King tells us that it's imperative to get the right foam formula. If it's out even by a slight amount, he says, then it can lead to bodged results, extra fires, failed prosecutions, etc. This view is supported by Dick Horrocks and Mike Hagen, no strangers it has to be said to flame retardant industry funding.
 
Steve gives two counter-arguments. First, he points out that the new formula already exists in the current regulations, for loose covers; and it has caused no problems in nearly 30 years of daily use. Second, where the match test for non-domestic furniture is concerned (which requires testing on a composite true to the finished product), test houses have traditionally used any pieces of combustion-modified foam that happens to be lying around, again with no problems.
 
Barbara decides to be diplomatic and suggests that the FPA come up with a new test foam formula and present it to BIS at a meeting next month. While I'm not happy about this, I can see the sense in letting them contribute to the process and we will still be on time to make the changes.
 
Which is somewhat naive notion to have, as it turns out.
 
After the meeting, and after everyone else has dissipated, Steve and I go for a coffee in the House cafe.
 
"We seem to spend a hell of a lot of time," he says, "providing endless proof and evidence to points they raise off the top of their heads without any substance."
 
"It's probably mostly down to a pride and status thing," I say. "The FSF sees itself as the go-to authority on fire safety. It's used to dealing with the fire safety department, DCLG. Then they find themselves facing a change to fire safety put together by the business department which managed it without any input from them, even though they were invited to contribute."
 
He nods. "I'm still annoyed with John, though."
 
Shortly after this meeting, John writes to Barbara to suggest that more work needs to be done on the new test - without, however, stipulating what exactly - and that he can be contracted to do it.
 

 
October 2014
 
So here we are. Seven civil servants meeting to discuss the fire safety fate of the entire nation's furniture; that and which industries will save millions of pounds in the process and which will lose millions.
 
Have we been trained to make such decisions? Not a chance. My immediate boss, John Lord, came to BIS recently from the Department for the Environment. He hasn't even been trained to be a manager, not since BIS cut the training budget. His boss, Barbara Middlemiss, senior civil servant, came here just a few months ago from the Department for Work and Pensions. She's a vicar's wife, well-educated but has not displayed much understanding of how the big bad business world works so far, it has to be said.
 
There are two BIS analysts present but their job is to stare meaningfully at their laptop screens and say nothing unless asked to.
 
Then there's our BIS lawyer, Sarah Hargreaves, young, intelligent but with an almost constant slight trembling of fear in her aura. She's sitting next to Nicole who has been assigned to me in order to learn more about policy. The fact that she is far more savvy and thoughtful than my bosses does not bode well.
 
Nevertheless, I start the meeting feeling optimistic. We are here to discuss next steps, following the close of the consultation on the new match test. We had 113 returns from a wide range of stakeholders, which is a lot but not unexpected, given the potential consequences of the changes. As I'd predicted to John and Barbara most of these would be positive, but there would also be a number of negative responses.
 
The negative responses were from organisations with a beef against the new test, essentially. This of course included the chemical industry, who would be the big losers with the huge reductions in flame retardant use that the new test would bring. FIRA, predictably, also objected, despite the fact they had provided the test results for the consultation document that proved the new test would work. A few weeks after this meeting, someone from one of the biggest UK furniture manufacturers - who was also a test expert - will tell me that the main reason FIRA don't like the new test is because they "Didn't think of it." This is probably very true. FIRA's reputation as such rests on it being seen as the leader in furniture technology and all the various laws that apply to manufacturing it. Yet their attempt to provide BIS with an alternative match test, a year or so before, was technically hopeless and unworkable. Whereas Intertek's was inspired, effective and scientifically sound. And of course Intertek is one of FIRA's biggest competitors in the testing market, FIRA also being a test company.
 
Many of the negative responses to the consultation had simply cut and pasted FIRA's response into the form, along with the same spelling mistakes.
 
"The main point," I say to the team, "is that there is not a single piece of evidence to support the negative responses. All they're saying is 'No, we don't like it'." I conclude with, "So, we're clear to proceed." I mean that we're clear to proceed with our implementation plan which is predicated on the very tight deadline the Department has given us. Ministers are keen to announce the savings the new test will bring to industry but they want to do it before this current government ends, which is only about six months away. I've checked with our Better Regulation unit and we don't need to go back to our Minister, Jo Swinson, for further approval, provided the consultation returns have not raised any serious points. And they haven't.
 
But what comes next strikes ice into my heart.
 
John says, "I don't know. I'm a risk-averse civil servant. I think we need to go back to the Minister first and let her know there have been quite a few objections, and suggest a way of dealing with them."
 
My instinct knows this is potentially disastrous. Later, I'll have a better idea of what exactly is going on here which is that essentially, someone has been got at.
 
Now I repeat what Better Regulation said to me, which is that no consultation can expect 100% acceptance; there will always be losers and therefore always be objectors.
 
But Barbara says, "I think we should go back to the Minister. Suggest we proceed with the new test as planned but tell her that we will in the meantime mitigate the naysayers."
 
Oh no. Here it is: the classic civil servant's reflex action to compromise.
 
"Sorry, Barbara," I say, "but I'm not sure how we mitigate objections that have no foundation to them."
 
She doesn't like this, waves her hand in irritation; says, "There are always things you can do to show people that you're listening to their concerns and taking them seriously. We need to show that we're dealing with all stakeholders' points."
 
Reasonable as this sounds on the surface it is of course nonsense. Changes to law almost always create winners and losers, and you can't please both. Besides, in this case, winners and losers are somewhat irrelevant anyway, given that we have a public safety test that is seriously failing and needs to put right pronto.
 
"What concerns?" I say. "The only concerns that have been expressed are to do with not wanting to lose money or to cover dodgy industry practices."
 
Now I've probably gone too far because Barbara ignores me, addresses John instead. In the event, it's decided that I will write another submission to Jo Swinson, mainly saying that we still want to proceed as planned but . . .
 
And it's that 'but', I know, that is going to be a nightmare. Ministers do not like to receive submissions that equivocate. They like clear advice and solid suggestions, and they want it all in two pages max.
 
And it is a nightmare. I draft a nice short, two-page submission, albeit biased towards the truth (something I will learn is not welcome very often by BIS managers). I explain to Swinson that the consultation raised no valid objections, and I say (reluctantly) that we'll look at ways to bring the negative people on board.
 
Then Barbara and John get their hands on it and turn it into eleven pages of "Yes, but . . . ", "No, but . . . ", "On the other hand, Minister . . . "
 
With heavy heart I send the submission electronically to Private Office. Soon after, I get a phone call from Swinson's PA, Tara Bennett. She'd tried Barbara and John but they aren't around - following the protocol of starting with the senior civil servants and working down the grades, even when the lower grade in this case is the expert. She's telling me that the Minister wants to discuss the submission Right Now so I'm needed.
 
She also says something very disturbing: "Someone from your team came up here earlier to say we'd be getting a submission on the Furniture Regulations but that it isn't likely the suggested changes will be going ahead anyway."
 
'Someone' can only be Barbara or John. Apart from the sheer betrayal of this action, it also of course makes it even less likely that Swinson will be able to make a clear decision to proceed.
 
When I see her, Swinson is not happy and I can't say I blame her. She asks me, somewhat rhetorically, what she's supposed to do with an eleven-page submission. She also says - and I can't disagree - that the submission is confusing. "I don't know what you're asking me do to do," she says.
 
I say something that Bennett will report back inaccurately but which was probably still unwise anyway. "The submission has my name on it," I say, "but I don't personally agree with everything in it. I believe the new test is ready to go and doesn't need any more work done on it."
 
This is the main suggestion that Barbara and John put in the submission: that we'll do more work on the test to mitigate the doubters. My argument is that no more work is needed; it's all been done. They should know - and John certainly does - that Steve Owen has by far the most brilliant mind in the testing world, and that the new test is technically bullet-proof. And in any case, more work will greatly threaten the timetable.
 
The meeting does not end smoothly. Swinson, not unreasonably, wants another submission. I will get it in the neck from my managers for suggesting the team is divided, and they will insist we find 'more work' to do in order to justify their decision not to immediately proceed.
 
When I meet Barbara later, to talk all this through, I tell her what Tara told me, about one of the team sabotaging the project before Swinson had even read the submission.
 
"It wasn't me," she says. And I believe her.
 

19 August 2014 - BIS Open Day

​A large conference room in the basement of BIS's headquarters in Victoria Street, London. I'm sitting on the platform with Steve and Kevin Nimmo to my left, John Lord and Nicole, who is here to learn more about the Furniture Regs, to my right.
 
We're facing about 100 stakeholders, seated in rows before us. I recognise most of the faces. Steve and I have been on the road for some months, visiting furniture retailers and manufacturers, British Standards groups, universities, other government departments. The atmosphere is odd: a slightly uneasy combination of anticipation, perhaps a touch of fear and potential challenge. I've spoken to lots of people before we started; Trading Standards are positive, retailers mixed and the many that I've known for years have appeared friendly enough.
 
12 days ago, BIS circulated the consultation documents to around 500 people. While many of those present today knew what to expect in terms of the new match test, most probably didn't anticipate that we'd also provide so much material demonstrating that flame retardants are a big risk to health and the environment.
 
I'm thinking that it's strange that anyone would not want this new test, given it benefits pretty much everyone except the chemical industry. However, in the months to come, I'll realise that the chemical industry has deep pockets. Also, Steve and I will uncover more scams perpetrated by the furniture industry. One of these involves the fact that FIRA and others keep claiming that savings from reducing FRs will only be a few million, not up to £45m per year that BIS analysts have predicted (and that was on the conservative side). FIRA has also mumbled occasionally about how the new test will actually lead to more flame retardants, not less.
 
Later, we'll discover that what they probably mean is that the levels of undertreatment in the industry are not only more widespread than we realised, but also the amounts undertreated may well be much higher too. Well, if you're going to cheat, you might as well really cheat. Ironically, then, because the new test is not vulnerable to undertreatment scams, it may well mean that manufacturers do indeed end up using more flame retardants than now, because they're undertreating by over 50% - the amount our new test saves!
 
We've invited Kevin Nimmo to chair the event. He retired recently but is still highly respected in the industry. For many years he chaired the British Standards group for furniture flammability, that Steve and I are members of, and he is still an advisor to the London Fire Brigade. As usual, he is dressed immaculately and radiates calm.
 
Steve looks a little uncomfortable which may be on account of the fact he's having to wear his Intertek tie today. John Lord looks evasive but with his normal slightly smug aura absent for once, possibly on account of the fact he will have to address this audience at some point and we both know he's remained rather ignorant of the technical aspects of the Regulations.
 
Kevin starts by thanking everyone for attending. Then he talks a little about the history of the new test; how it was discussed at British Standards; why the current test has always had technical problems. He is also complimentary about my efforts to finally get some amendments to the Regs on the table.
 
John Lord says a few words but they don't make an awful lot of sense. On the one hand he talks about how the new test should bring many benefits, but on the other makes quite a lot of noise about how important it is that they all use the consultation process to let us know about any problems they may perceive with the new test.
 
Then I talk about the regulatory history and apologise, once again, for the fact that the new test has been produced in advance of the rest of the amendments but point out that we now have a safety problem to put right with the current test and, besides, the furniture industry will get its savings a year earlier. I'm still puzzled why this twin point doesn't seem to please them very much.
 
Steve then gives a technical talk which includes a new set of flow diagrams outlining the requirements of the new test. This produces perhaps oddly strong reactions in some, with a couple of people almost demanding to be given copies of the diagrams. Steve of course agrees but perhaps we're seeing a strange kind of almost-anger that once again, he has produced excellent technical back-up work in support of the new test, instead of screwing up.
 
The day wears on, mostly through open forum. As expected we get the flame retardant industry reps advocating 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it,' causing us to point out once again that in fact the current match test is broke.
 
As usual, everyone who speaks from industry does so entirely from their own perspective. So it is that once again we have the baby products reps talking about how their prams, buggies and car seats should be removed from the scope of the Regulations. They are losing business via internet sales to EU countries that do not have the cost of meeting the requirements of the Regulations. On the point that if they get their way, prams etc will become flammable, they offer a range of reasons why this won't be the case, without it has to be said actually proving that it won't be.
 
One person's rather indignant speech will have more meaning for me in a few months' time. He represents a company I'll call Last. He goes on at some length about how the new provision for flammable materials close to the surface is unworkable. He says it will mean testing thousands of components which will be massively costly. Once again, Steve explains that isn't the case: that each material need only be tested once by one company and the result will stand forever for everyone else. But our man doesn't seem to want to understand. Steve, as he's done with others, very calmly he doesn't understand why anyone would defend including flammable materials in their sofas.
 
And that's the nub of it, really. We've come up with a test that overall is safer than the current one. It takes care of perhaps the biggest safety issue - one that was not so problemmatic when the regulations first came into force, when most materials used in sofas were naturaly flame-resistant. But as the years have passed, manufacturers have increasingly stuffed all kinds of flammable materials in their sofas - cardboard, hessian, plastic - and many very close to the cover, e.g. around the arms. Which means, unless you manage to drop a match or cigarette in the centre of one of the big seating cushions, your sofa is very likely to go up in flames.
 
Yet we've had people, like Last, argue that the new modified test for these flammable materials close to the cover is going to cost them big time. It isn't. As DFS told us, after testing all there materials in an afternoon with Steve, it will cost just 'pennies' per sofa, hugely off-set by the savings they'll make on reduced flame retardants.
 
In other words, they don't like change. They don't care about safety, only continuity. They aren't willing to use new designs and materials.
 
Later, I will meet someone from Breast Cancer UK who is concerned about FRs in furniture. In the course of our conversation she tells me that she received an email from Last, a couple of months after our consultation, telling her that they had to recall her sofa. While it complies with the Furniture Regulations, Last said, it 'doesn't contain enough chemicals'. She was baffled by this. When the Last lorry came to pick up her sofa the driver asked her why it was going back. She told him because it didn't have enough chemicals, and he said, "Oh, I've had to pick up loads of those."
 
So, it seems as if the fury shown by the Last man at our open day was not because he didn't understand the new proposal. Clearly, his company had decided that when the new requirement for materials close to the cover came in, it would expose the fact that the current and past stock was flammable. That and possibly also undertreated. Therefore, that they were in danger of being sued. Of course, it's quite possible that other furniture companies did the same thing. At least until they found out the test was being delayed, possibly permanently, at which point they could relax once again about selling flammable products.
 
After the long day is over, I accompany Steve to the back of the building so he can have a smoke. "How do you feel?" he says.
 
"Pretty shitty, actually," I reply.
 
"Me too," he says, "but I reckon that's a good thing."
 
"Why's that?"
 
"Because it means we aced it."
 
I believe he's right but something about the overall atmosphere today has got me worried. Up to now, I'd believed that it was just a case of people thoroughly understanding the benefits of the new test, then coming round. Yet there were quite a few here today who for whatever reasons seem doggedly determined to stick with the old regime.

Extracts from journal entry for April 12th 2014:
 
The last few months have been a real learning experience.
 
January: BBC1's "Fake Britain" broadcasts a half hour programme in which they buy a bunch of mattresses and sofas, test them and of course they fail. Big names, too, like SCS, Argos, Homebase, Tesco and others.
 
The day after the show I get a phone call from Phil Reynolds at FIRA, actually gloating. FIRA had been on the programme, doing all the testing work. But of course besides being a test house, FIRA is also a trade organisation for furniture companies. Phil was delighted that lots of his member companies, spooked by the show, were rushing to FIRA for extra testing. Ker-ching.
 
FIRA is the main opponent to the new match test, by the way, even though they say they're not.
 
Trading Standards told me they've busted the country's biggest chemical treatment company several times for fabrics that fail the match test. They believe this is down to undertreatment and that it's systematic in the industry.
 
Roger White of Clarkson Textiles (treatment company) was also behind the "Fake Britain" show. Along with Jessica Alexander of the National Bed Federation and FIRA. They managed to encourage the programme to point to dodgy Chinese imports as the reason for so many failures. Which is interesting in light of our Minister, Jo Swinson, having written last year to Clarkson's MP, Andrew Stephenson, to point out that in fact these failures are mostly down to treatment companies, as Trading Standards will attest.
 
Whatever the motives behind "Fake Britain", it causes panic amongst retailers. Just as we're approaching the run-in to the consultation we'll be issuing on the new match test. Some may call that coincidence . . .
 
Anyway, in order to help mitigate the panic, Steve and I decide to go on the road, to undo FIRA's shenanigans as best we can. So far we've visited DFS, Furniture Village, SCS and the Home Retail Group (Argos, Habitat, Homebase). Every visit has gone well. Usually a bit uncomfortable to start with but by the time they've had the chance to get all their questions answered, they're much more positive about the new test.
 
Manufacturer/retailer X is spitting blood over FIRA. So much so, they've taken away a huge amount of testing work from them. They also told us in confidence that XX of treatment company XXX had just visited them. He'd played them a video he'd made in which he'd tested one of their sofas and it had failed the flammability tests (nicely linking to "Fake Britain" of course). He'd threatened to put it online unless they gave him all their treatment business. We watched the video and Steve was able to point out how this guy had not conducted the tests properly and told them exactly how to tell him to F-off. They were very grateful.
 
Then FIRA and the BFC went to visit the European Commission, worried about what Richard Hawkins had said in our workshop last December - that new disposal rules were coming in which would require sofas to be safely (and expensively) disposed of at end-life. They posted online a report of the meeting which included these comments:
 
"Nobody likes flame retardants!"
 
"The Commission have give up trying to raise EU standards [to match the UK's]."
 
"End-life of furniture is coming and will be a huge problem."
 
Later, they will also tell me that they'd tried to illicit sympathy from the Commission by pointing out that we have a mountain of sofas to dispose of in the UK. The Commission just said, "Tough - that's your problem."
 
Of course, I've been telling them for over a year that the Commission has turned against flame retardants and why that is one of the reasons we need to reduce them in UK sofas. But I guess they're used to getting their own way in the UK furniture world and probably didn't expect the Commission to be unimpressed with their bluster.
 
Some reflections:
 
Steve and I are now convinced that FIRA no longer, if it ever did, believes the new match test won't work. Their true motive is to delay it, so it will rejoin the rest of the amended regulations that are due to appear a year or so after the match test. This will nullify the threat to them of a successful match test that will be credited to BIS/Intertek, not them. And of course they can boast to the industry that they engineered the result.
 
Steve is a technical wizard and some of his understandings about how and why the new test will work are simply not appreciated by most. FIRA spends so much time hyping itself, attending Brussels meetings, etc, that it is actually rather dumb at times on the technical side.
 
It hasn't been lost on companies that FIRA sold out their own members on "Fake Britain". They gambled, essentially: wanted to be seen as at the centre of the industry, helping to expose foreign dodgy goods, but they foolishly believed "Fake Britain" when it assured them it wouldn't name names. But of course it did, and most of them were FIRA members.
 
Having said all that, I still can't really fathom why Phil Reynolds would phone me to tell me FIRA was profiting from its own members' panic, caused by FIRA. I mean, we get on well, have even been out for drinks together a few times after EU meetings. Possibly, he wanted to show me that FIRA are in control of the future of the new test, not BIS.
 
Back to today. FIRA held a workshop at their centre in Stevenage, to discuss the new match test. Originally, Steve and I weren't invited. But I guess Phil must have realised that would look rather silly and he sent us an invitation late yesterday. Mind you, he was still pulling tricks today, e.g. hadn't asked us if we had slides; told us we weren't the main speakers (!); insisted that David King - a vociferous if technically inarticulate opponent of the new test, representing the foam industry, who of course have a huge finger in the furniture pie - would speak after us.
 
It's mystifying that most people are still not joining up the dots. I guess it's just too much trouble. One or two are seeing the light, however. X at XXX phoned me recently from a BFC dinner at the House of Commons (no invitation for BIS). He was angry because FIRA were telling everyone how they were going to rubbish the new match test (despite telling BIS that they are behind it). "I really want to punch someone [from FIRA]," he said.
 
Here are a few more dots, mostly from today's workshop (to about 50 manufacturers, retailers and others), that may or may not join up:
 
Tristine Hargreaves of FIRA giving a talk on the fall-out from "Fake Britain" and what FIRA believes can be done about it (other than taking on extra testing work from its spooked members, that is).
 
Jessica Alexander giving a talk about the National Bed Federation's new membership audit scheme; telling us that Tristine is one of the auditors; and announcing the independent audit body that will oversee it: BM TRADA, of which FIRA and the NBF are part!
 
When John Lord and I met FIRA recently, they told us that they too wanted to introduce a similar scheme of other furniture products.
 
In short: FIRA and the NBF stitch up their own members by fingering them to "Fake Britain"; profit from the panic-induced requests for extra testing that results; then introduce an audit scheme that will extract even more money from them. One word that comes to mind is 'protection'; the other is an object you see either end of a tennis court.
 
My relationship with John Lord is not going great. He's still telling me that he can't (won't) upgrade my post, even though I'm doing work at the level of the next grade (easily) but he will give me a recommendation for going for promotion elsewhere. I try to get him to see that I naturally want to see the new test through, and get the rest of the amendments in after that. Also, he and I both know that no one else is going to have my enthusiasm and, crucially, will almost certainly not develop the expertise to work effectively with Steve. But what he's really saying is that the system is paramount and if we reward your hard work, Terry, with an upgrade that allows you to continue in the same job we'll be challenging the system, which in Whitehall is all about developing one's overall policy skills, not actually becoming something useful. John actually said he's a career civil servant and only took the BIS job because it will help him further it.
 
Steve's view of John is that he's a 'Polyfilla man', someone who spends all his time pasting over the cracks rather than dealing with the fundamental problems. How true. I asked him why FIRA hadn't tried to poach him. He laughed and said because they wouldn't be able to control him. Which is also no doubt true. Seems like we're both anti-system at heart.
 
And with my conspiracy hat on, I might just be wondering why John is willing to lose me so close to consulting on the new match test, when that would so greatly benefit the chemical industry.

December 18th, 2013
 
Steve and I are sitting in a BIS meeting room waiting for my new boss, John Pride, to turn up.
 
[John Pride is not his real name, by the way. I have changed the names of the civil servants who appear in this blog, unless they have told me I can use their actual names. For example, Richard Hawkins of the Environment Agency is mentioned below because he was happy to be named. You might be wondering why no one at BIS (now BEIS) is willing to be named. After all, according to their findings on my whistle-blowing case, BIS officials were not guilty of misleading Ministers or anything else come to that. You might conclude therefore that they would be only too willing to stand by their actions. Not so: I was very heavily informed that I could not name them without breaching the Data Protection Act and possibly also the Official Secrets Act. While the Civil Service is outwardly supportive of the benefits of whistle-blowing, it very much does not like its officials to be held personally responsible for any problems they create for the public.]
 
We're concerned. In half an hour, we're due to meet our stakeholders for the first time in person about the new match test. John decided he would chair the meeting and give the introductory talk. I said that was fine but he therefore needed to meet Steve and I for 90 minutes beforehand so he would be up to speed on the complex issues behind our proposals and on the various mixed interests that would be present in the room. He agreed but hasn't shown yet.
 
Pride is in his thirties and has just joined BIS on promotion from Defra. He has inherited a large team of around 20 civil servants, dealing mostly with consumer product safety legislation. Most of this is covered by EU law and as such does not require much active input. People attend meetings in Brussels and keep up to speed on any changes in the pipeline but the UK is just one of many member states in this respect.
 
Steve says, "Does he realise what he could be facing today?"
 
I shrug. "He's probably used to taking meetings with other civil servants and they don't tend to act up much."
 
Steve raises an eyebrow. "FIRA alone are likely to act up enough to have him spinning in his chair."
 
This proves to be a prophetic remark. For now, I just feel unsettled. The Furniture Regs are UK legislation. This means the UK, and not the rest of Europe, is responsible for them. This Department is responsible for them. Me and John are responsible for them. This means we cannot simply tell our stakeholders that Brussels is introducing a change to the laws that govern their businesses; tough luck, chaps, nothing we can do, just have to make the best of it. Our stakeholders know that we are responsible and will not hesitate to challenge us if they don't like our plans.
 
Prior to this meeting, Steve with my input, produced a very technical, detailed, paper outlining possible options for a new match test. We circulated it to a couple of dozen stakeholders with expertise in testing and related subjects. The majority of those circulated were positive about the proposal. However, there is the very real issue that while the furniture industry could save around £50m a year from the new match test, the chemical industry will lose the same amount.
 
"Heard any more about 'Fake Britain'?" says Steve.
 
"Only that Trading Standards still think it'll focus on labelling issues. I'm going to tell everyone all about it today."
 
A short while ago, Trading Standards was contacted by the Fake Britain production company who make the programme for the BBC. They were told Fake Britain wanted to look at problems with the Furniture Regs. Apparently, Roger White of Clarkson Textiles is one of the advisors on the programme. This bothers us.
 
Recently, Andrew Stephenson MP, wrote to our Minister, Jo Swinson, on behalf of Clarkson Textiles. Clarkson is the biggest chemical treatment company in the EU, possibly the world. For decades, they have been applying a flame retardant chemical mix to the backs of sofa fabrics towards complying with the Furniture Regs. According to Stephenson, Clarkson is losing business to dodgy Chinese imports. Stephenson is concerned therefore that BIS does not do anything to weaken the effectiveness of the Regs, for example by tinkering with the match test. He says this will only make worse the situation where non-compliant furniture is getting into UK homes via Chinese imports and in the process put honest British workers out of business.
 
However, Mr Stephenson is either not aware of the full story or is ignoring it. Namely that Trading Standards has been regularly finding that cover fabrics are failing the match test, not because they are dodgy Chinese imports but because they're being undertreated by UK companies like Clarkson. In short, the UK treatment companies find test houses that will give the fabrics a pass but every time Trading Standards tests the same fabrics in their test house, they fail. Undertreatment is, of course, big money. Proper treatment costs around £1.50 per metre and there can be 20 metres in a sofa. If say 30p can be undertreated off the cost, then you're looking maybe at savings of £7 per sofa, and there are around 30 million sofas in the UK. The fact that this very likely means many sofas are ignitable doesn't seem to bother anyone in the industry too much.
 
Jo Swinson replied to Stephenson to inform him that the real problem is the treatment process but so far we haven't heard back. No doubt, Roger White will continue to advise Fake Britain that Chinese imports are the villain of the piece.
 
Ten minutes before the meeting starts and John still has not shown. Steve and I decide to go to the conference room. There, we chat with various people then, a minute before the start, John finally turns up. He sweeps us in to the meeting room and, no doubt noting our concerned expressions, says, "Don't worry: I'll wing it."
 
Steve and I exchange a look then take our seats. Up to this point, I've felt that a difficult subject and a pretty radical change to a complex safety issue has been handled very well. Much of that is down to the excellent working relationship Steve and I have developed based around his expertise in chemicals and testing with my passionate desire to use policy to improve the regulations.
 
But here is our first meeting with the people who will be most affected by these changes. And John is going to wing it. At the time, I am putting this down mostly to newly-promoted arrogance.
 
John indeed introduces the event like a man reading notes off his shirt cuff. He seems completely oblivious to the gaffs he's coming out with and, more importantly, the concessions he's making. Phil Reynolds of FIRA manages in record time, for instance, to get John to agree that FIRA should undertake completely unnecessary further testing work on the new proposals. We are already on a tight schedule to get the new match test in by April 2015. If I know FIRA, this extra work will put us back a good few months. While agreeing in principle with the aims of the new test,  FIRA has been resistant to it in many ways, probably because as well as being a trade association they are also a rival test house. When we originally tendered for the work on the new test, Steve's company, Intertek, won out over the other test houses that applied. This additional work will help FIRA, of course, to appear central to all things important to the furniture industry.
 
Whatever, Phil Reynolds is soon grinning at me like a cat from Cheshire. I am normally fairly poker-faced but I can feel everything rapidly unravelling in light of John's uneducated need to please our guests. Even he notices my expression and actually says, "I can see Terry is uncomfortable with this, but . . . "
 
But indeed. Steve whispers to me at one point, "Is he being paid by FIRA?"
 
When John finally finishes, Steve and I give a talk on the new test. Before we get into it, however, I tell them that they may be concerned to learn that Fake Britain is making a programme that could be critical of the furniture industry.
 
Their response surprises us: "We know!" they all shout. And indeed they do. We'll find out later that FIRA is also an advisor on the programme. Later still, we'll discover that one of FIRA's new directors - Jessica Alexander, Chair of the National Bed Federation - also owns a PR company that works closely with TV. What a happy coincidence.
 
Richard Hawkins of the Environment Agency gives a very good talk on POPs and PBDEs that really gets our guests' attention. He tells them that there are EU rules on the way, probably under the Stockholm Agreement, that will mean products containing certain flame retardants will need to be disposed of safely at the end of their life. He mentions a specific FR, DecaBDE, which has been a major ingredient in UK sofas for many years now. Richard tells us that there are only two incinerators in the UK that can dispose of such a chemical safely.
 
Many lean forward in their chairs, no doubt making mental calculations. For the fact is that at present UK sofas just get dumped into landfill for the most part. The chemicals in them then leach out and get into the water supply, then the food chain, ending up in us. But while that's bad, so far fingers haven't been able to point too accurately to where exactly the chemicals come from. This is different. Sofas will be fingered good and proper. Mattresses too. Someone will have to pay for that expensive disposal process, and it's not likely to be consumers.
 
John leads the general discussion that follows and I still feel uncomfortable, although I'm not entirely sure why. Partly, it's John's tendency to stick flip chart sheets on the wall and use terms like 'brainstorming'. While this kind of approach works fine with passive civil servants, here we have a bunch of people who are all very knowledgeable in their field. People you should just be talking with, not trying to manage. Mostly, however, it's because I know all the people round the table; have worked with them for many years now. I don't really know John and don't believe he should be handling the situation as if he knows better than everyone present.
 
After the meeting, Steve and I go outside, by the BIS bike shed where the smokers now have to go, just as if they're back at school. Steve lights up and says, "Well, what do you think?"
 
"I think we mostly recovered it."
 
He laughs. "Not really the sort of people you want to wing it with."
 
"I had a meeting with him a couple of months ago, just after he joined BIS. It was to discuss my job and the Regs and the new match test. He seemed pretty positive but things he said were coming back to me in that meeting. Like, when I told him I was conflicted about whether to go for promotion because that would mean leaving this job, and I want to see this project through."
 
"And he said you were missing the point?"
 
"Yes, he said it's your career in the civil service that's important, not the actual job you're doing. He also said that in the civil service, the best way to get rid of someone in your team who isn't much good is you promote them."
 
"Or someone who might cause you too much work."
 
In the following six months or so, Steve and I will lead or attend over 40 workshops, events, meetings and discussions about the new match test, with a wide range of stakeholders. John will attend only one, which he's obliged to since it's with FIRA to talk about the work he gave to them at the meeting today.
 
At the time, I assumed this strange absence was because he trusted me to do the job without supervision, and save himself some work, as Steve had implied. Later, I'll suspect darker reasons.

October 2013
 
Prelude . . . some time about a year earlier
 
            My phone rings. It's ten minutes before lunch. I pick it up, hoping this will be a quick one.
            "Hi, this is Steve Owen," says the caller.
          Oh no. "Hi, Steve." My inner phoney frantically searches for a put-off line. But Steve continues talking before anything feasible turns up.
            "I found out something rather naughty about interliners the other day," he says.
            "Go on," I say, hoping he won't ask me what an interliner is. I mean, I've heard of them; seen something about them in our guide book. I feel I should know. I am after all Mr Government Man for the furniture flammability regulations.
            Steve talks on, about the Crib 5 test, organo-phosphates, cellulosics, thermo-plastics and the such and I make 'mmmm'ing noises, hoping he will answer whatever problem he's discovered himself and not ask me what I think.
            I've met Steve several times at various workshops. He doesn't play the same social and political games as everyone else. He just says what he thinks, often followed by an awkward silence. I know he works for Intertek, one of the country's largest test laboratories. I frequently speak to people from other test houses but they don't make me feel as uncomfortable as Steve does.
            He's been phoning me up quite a lot lately, always with some issue he's uncovered about the regulations. He must know that I don't really understand what he's talking about. But he still phones me. He doesn't phone my boss, for example.
            I'm not quite sure what makes me say it but when I do, a deep-down fundamental part of me knows this will change the way I see this job forever. It will take me outside of the sacred safety zone of the civil servant which is constructed from the over-riding need to protect one's career first, take an interest in the actual job a very distant second.
           "Steve," I say. "I'm going to come clean: I don't understand what you're talking about. Please, give it to me in idiot language."
            He laughs, says, "No problem." Except there is. I still don't understand him. So I stop him again. And he simplifies it until I get it.
            What I mainly get is that Steve Owen knows exactly what he's talking about.
           
Back to October 2013
 
            Steve and I are sitting in a Volvo driven by our host, Jorgen. He's taking us to IKEA's research establishment in Almhult, Sweden.
            Almhult is where IKEA started and its first-ever store is still standing there, albeit rather run-down. There is also an IKEA hotel in the centre of town, and an IKEA museum. On my first visit there, without Steve, Jorgen took me to the museum. I looked at some Billy bookcases from the 50s. "They look exactly the same as today's Billy bookcases," I said. Jorgen straight-faced said, "No, these are a little bigger."
            On that trip, I'd been discussing with IKEA early ideas Steve and I had for a new match test. They were especially keen on changing it since they told me they had a policy of not using brominated flame retardants. These are almost impossible to avoid if you want to get cover fabrics through the match test. Because of that, in the UK IKEA had only been using cellulosic fabrics that can be fitted untreated, as long as they pass another flammability test in the Regulations which means using an interliner. Because of this, their range of fabrics is restricted in the UK.
            At that stage, they had a policy of not talking about their green credentials too much, for various reasons. Jorgen told me two things on that trip to really help me see that different countries have different views on health and the environment. He said, "In the UK, you put fire safety first and live with the fact it means using flame retardants. Swedish people put the environment first, and their children's future, which means we would rather take a risk on fire safety than introduce FR pollution."
            (Just a few days ago (in 2017) a report discovered that you are 64 times more likely to die from air pollution in the UK than in Sweden.)
            The other thing Jorgen told me was that a best-selling children's book in Sweden that year was entitled, 'The Flame Retardant Cat'. I laughed at this but later realised it emphasised his first point. Cats, like children, are particularly vulnerable to flame retardant poisoning, given they sleep with their faces close to sofa covers and they move around near the floor which is often polluted with flame retardant dust.
            In 2013, Steve has been quiet for a few minutes. Suddenly, he tells Jorgen that he's been listening to the sound of the Volvo's engine and gives a detailed analysis of what needs fixing. He also gives an estimate of the cost of the parts. In SEK. Jorgen laughs and says that his mechanic had picked up about half of Steve's diagnosis after actually examining the engine, and that he'll take it back to get the rest checked out.
            We spend two days meeting all sorts of researchers, many grilling us intensely about the new match test. Steve handles the technical questions and I deal with the policy side of things. At the end of the first day, Jorgen drives us back to our hotel and says at one point, "You two make a good team."
            Thinking about that later, I believe the main reason we work together so well is that we have the same approach, which is to get to the truth of the matter, no matter how uncomfortable that might be.
            Our hotel is about 6 miles from IKEA, on a lake deep in a forest. The first night there, we each buy a £9 bottle of beer and later, despite the price, decide we want another. It's about 10.15. The barmaid agrees to sell us one but tells us that we will have to finish them outside, since the main building is closing. We discover later that everyone in Almhult is in bed by 9.30. There are no bars and everyone is very nice. Meanwhile, Steve and I shiver outside for a half hour or so, nursing our beers and getting to know each other.
           At the end of our visit, we have a round-up meeting with Jorgen and the head of the establishment. The head says they are very impressed with our new test - "Scarily competent" are his exact words. IKEA wants to put money into researching green alternatives they believe will be possible with our test. His only concern is that Steve and I remain working on it. I explain to him that I am not getting much support from my managers at the Department. I've been getting top marks in my annual reports for some time now, and everyone agrees that I am doing work at above my grade level. But instead of promoting me in the post, they say I need to apply for a different post on promotion. This is typical Whitehall thinking, i.e. that you are supposed to specialise in policy, not specific technical expertise. This, of course, is a wonderful excuse for cocking up since you can always claim you don't know anything about technical matters.
            Just before coming to Sweden, I'd had a strange meeting in BIS with someone from Better Regulation. It seems that not only is my proposed change to the Regulations by far the biggest savings the Department is likely to make for business; it's now pretty much the only one. The irony is not lost on me. BIS is full of smart, well-educated people, dedicated to helping UK businesses succeed. Ministers have been telling everyone that the government's de-regulation strategy will help them save squillions by cutting red tape. With a new election looming, those Ministers have started asking their officials exactly what savings are being made.
            Which was the first time I'd even thought about savings from the new match test. My main concern was making it greener. But when we were all asked what we had up our red tapeless sleeves, I made a rough estimate that the new test would save the furniture industry around £50m per year.
            Suddenly, the Department was interested.
           There was only one problem. Well, two problems. First, I worked in a section in BIS that itself was something of a mystery, at least as far as being in the business department was concerned. We dealt with consumer product safety. Which is about protecting the public and not making money for business. Much later, it will occur to me that this may not be so much of a mystery. After all, where would business prefer product safety to live?
            Second, as the man from Better Regulation was telling me, all those hundreds of business-focussed Departmental whizz kids didn't have anything else.
 
#
 
            At the end of our work at IKEA's research centre, the head of the place takes us on a tour of their testing facilities. Every couple of minutes, Steve breaks off to inspect a piece of equipment or some test materials and informs our hosts that it's not been adjusted right, or they're using the wrong kind of polyurethane foam. I'm embarrassed about this but when we finish the tour, the head guy implores Steve to return and do a full audit on the place. "This is exactly what we're looking for," he says.
            If only the new test was exactly what my Department is looking for. In my naivety, I had initially found it quite amusing to be the saviour of the Department while also being an outsider. Later, I realised that the worst thing you can do is mess with the system. And while coming up with a specialised new technical test that would save industry millions and improve the lives of everyone in the country might have sounded like a good idea, if it isn't going to be done within the centuries-old proper procedures and hierarchical form required by the bureaucratic monolith that is the civil service, well then, it might be better if it never happened at all.  

April 2013
 
            "I didn't know you wrote science fiction, Terry," says Arlene Blum.
            We're sitting in the coffee lounge at BFR 2013, San Francisco. I've given talks at the conference proper and at Arlene's associated Green Science Policy Institute workshop, and I'm due to sit on the closing discussion panel a little later today. I'm here because of Arlene. She invited me, in keeping with her policy of getting the regulators together with the scientists whose work can inform new regulation.
            I've attended dozens of talks here from scientists and researchers reporting on their findings of the pervasiveness of brominated flame retardants, in humans, animals and the environment. Earlier today, for example, I listened to a scientist talk about the high levels of BFRs he'd found in raptors in Alaska, demonstrating how far these chemicals circulate. He also found DDT in the same raptors, which of course was banned over 40 years ago. While these papers cover small research areas in themselves, taken together the negative effects of these chemicals is overwhelming.
            And Arlene is right, the scientists tend to be not very interested in how their work might be used to form new regulation. They just do it and publish, and leave it to others to put it into practice. Earlier, she'd introduced me to a prominent British scientist who for years has been measuring the build-up of flame retardants in house dust. When she suggested we might team up, he just looked puzzled and said, "It's all online."
            Just a couple of months ago Oliver Letwin, Cabinet Minister, had asked for briefing on one of Arlene's papers. Later, he followed up with a meeting at No 9 Downing Street with myself, David Mortimer of the Food Standards Agency and two other officials. He made the valid point to me that while the UK's Furniture Regulations are saving around 54 lives per year, there could be thousands of people contracting cancers from the flame retardants in our sofas. I agreed and told him about our plans to change the match test. He also asked if we could find out what's in house dust and one of the officials reported that the Department for Health had just bought a very expensive machine to measure just that. Letwin was pleased but by the time I left the civil service in 2016, there was no news of whatever results the machine had come up with.
            So maybe Arlene is only half-right: the scientists need to talk to the regulators more but some of the regulators need to, well, talk to everyone a bit more.
            Along with the scientists, there are plenty of people here from the chemical industry, including Wilhelm from ICL, who I will meet several more times over the next couple of years. Wilhelm sat in on Arlene's day, too. I still don't understand how anyone can listen to such convincing evidence of the negative effects of the products his company produces without it having any effect on his thinking. Or his career, which is probably more to the point.
            "I started as a children's writer," I say, "but I got fed up with how publishing was becoming more about selling products than great writing. So I switched to science fiction since that was what I grew up reading most."
            "I was once invited to spend some time with Arthur C Clarke on his island," says Arlene, just as if that was as common as popping into McDonald's. "I was on my way back from an expedition . . . "
            Amongst other 'expeditions', Arlene led the first-ever all-female party to climb Annapurna. "I also used to go for tea at Marion Zimmer Bradley's house," she continues. Of course, I think. Zimmer Bradley wrote the hugely successful 'Mists of Avalon', which I really enjoyed, not least because it's a retelling of the Arthur story. "I complemented her on getting the mountaineering details so right in one of her novels, and she said, 'Well, I stole them from your book!'"
            I never met any of my SF writer heroes but I tell Arlene about my story called "Guy" that was published a couple of months ago in Penumbra Magazine. The brief was to write a story in the style of Ray Bradbury, who was my first writing hero. I'd never tried anything like that before but in the event really I enjoyed it, as well as finding it a creative stretch. I was delighted when Jonathan Eller, author of a brilliant biography on Bradbury, written in collaboration with the author, told me that my story was one of the best he'd ever read, inspired by Ray's style and legacy.
            Then Arlene and I discuss the poster that one of her students has displayed at the conference, that is very critical of the UK's Furniture Regulations. While I agree with Arlene's take on the harmful effects of flame retardants, I don't agree with her contention that no furniture fire regulations actually work. David Mortimer, who is also at this conference, and I have tried a couple of times to get her to see reason. Okay, she is working on getting flame retardants out of US furniture but the fact is their flammability requirements are much milder than ours, so it's possible here, but not in the UK.
            Of course, back in 2013 I believed that the Furniture Regulations fully worked and that the report we'd commissioned in 2009, into their effectiveness, was entirely accurate. Now, I know that is not the whole story by any means.
            Arlene is currently working with the Chicago Tribune on the issue of flame retardants in furniture. And later in 2013, an HBO movie, "Toxic Hot Seat", directed by Robert Redford's son, will go on to win lots of film awards. But more importantly it will show how the flame retardant industry manipulated facts, bought fire officials and generally lied about their products in order to maintain huge profits in the US. At BFR, I'm not entirely sure, half believing that things are different in the UK.
            Of course, they're not. Same flame retardant companies. Same manipulations. Same lies.

December 2012:         
 
The hotel lobby is all white marble flooring and semi-uniformed staff. Much posher than the one I'm staying in. I find the bar where I recognise Bob Graham and join him and two others. He stands, shakes my hand warmly and introduces me to Mike Hagen, another Brit, and a young Italian guy whose name I don't catch but tells me he's doing a degree in Brussels funded by Chemtura.
            "What would you like to drink?" Bob asks me. "We've got an hour before the restaurant."
            "Any Belgian beer," I say.
            Mike is younger than Bob, good-looking, rugged, sun-tanned. I learn that he was a firefighter but is now retired from the fire services, like Bob. He runs a fire advisory service called the Fire Safety Platform.
            The beer is very good and I like their company. One of the things I enjoy about my job is meeting people who've spent years on the front line, literally fighting fire in this case.
            We have a couple of beers then move on to the restaurant. It's small and cosy, run by a somewhat eccentric Belgian chef. There is only one menu each night but it's always excellent they tell me.
            There is a certain camaraderie we share that is based in a UK against the rest of the world feeling. Tomorrow we will be doing all we can to convince the non-UK delegates that they should be taking up the same high level of fire safety provided by our Furniture Regulations. We will be taking part in a meeting to discuss a proposal put forward by the UK MEP, Emma McClarkin, which she's hoping will attract enough support from other MEPs to put it to the European Parliament formally.
            Emma wants two things: first, that the rest of Europe sets up fire statistics as good as the UK's; second, that the rest of Europe also adopts furniture flammability measures as tough as the UK's.
            Bob tells me they're paying for dinner tonight and I vaguely suspect this means the flame retardant industry is stumping up. After all, Bob is employed by EFRA, the European trade association for the flame retardant industry. At this stage, this doesn't strike me as particularly contradictory. EFRA has long campaigned for better fire safety, just like the UK. I've been to meetings in Brussels where the European Commission has argued for UK-like flammability rules with briefing supplied by EFRA.
            After more drinks, I surprise them with the news that I'm a science fiction writer. Bob then talks movingly about the Manchester Woolworth's fire in 1979 that killed 10 people. He was a fire chief in attendance and still has nightmares about the charred bodies of those who could not escape from the restaurant because a freak fire in the furniture department on the floor below had thrown up a wall of toxic gas. That and the desperate arms trying to force their way through the bars on the windows of the restaurant. This incident put Bob on the road of campaigning to bring in tougher legislation for furniture.
            Years later, I'll look at the Woolworth's fire with different eyes and begin to suspect that it was quite possibly not an accident at all.
            For now I say, "I know we've got the best fire regs in the world but I'm wondering if they isn't a way we can also reduce flame retardant use. It's what's blocking the rest of Europe coming up to our level, after all."
            They seem to agree, tell me that sounds like a good policy, providing we don't reduce fire safety.
            "Why do you two think the Germans and the Swedes are so reluctant to improve furniture flammability?" I say.
            They laugh. Bob says, "Flame retardants prevent fires taking off."
            Mike's smiling. "And the Germans don't want to prevent fires," he says. "They want to put them out."
            "I don't get it," I say.
            They share a knowing look. "The German fire services get very good government funding," says Bob. "They've all got these big new shiny Mercedes fire engines."
            He raises his eyebrows, encouraging me to get it.
            "Sorry," I say.
            "They want to keep their snazzy equipment," says Mike. "So they need to be putting fires out, not supporting measures that prevent them happening in the first place. 'Don't worry' they say to the people; 'we'll get there in minutes and save you'."
            We all laugh. This makes perfect sense in a UK view of the Germans kind of way.         Many years later, when I reflect on this, I'll see it's utter nonsense.
            I'll also remember once again who was paying for dinner that night. And note how naive I was not to see that my position in tomorrow's meeting was absolutely pivotal.
 
#
 
            Before the meeting I have a talk with Emma McClarkin. And the young guy from Chemtura. Seems like EFRA is funding the event and that gives them access to the politicians.
            She is a young, attractive woman; intelligent and apparently genuinely concerned about the fact it's only the UK that appears to take domestic fire safety seriously. She tells me about a terrible house fire in her constituency back home that has informed her decision to make this proposal. I glance at the Chemtura guy but his expression is opaque.
            I reassure her that we are working to bring the UK Furniture Regs up to date while maintaining fire safety, and mention that we're looking to reduce flame retardant use in the process but she doesn't really respond to this.
            The meeting proper takes place around a very long table. There are about forty people present. We all introduce ourselves. Bob and Mike are there of course; also representatives from a European burns victims association; a couple of other European fire fighters; someone from IKEA that I've seen at other Brussels meetings; a man from the Commission's consumer safety unit; and a woman from something called the Green Science Policy Institute in California.
            Emma kicks off, explaining what her proposal is all about; then others say their piece. Bob talks about the important role of flame retardants in fire safety and is challenged by the woman from California. This is a little embarrassing and I feel sorry for Bob.
            Then it's my turn. I stand up and say a little about the successful history of the UK's regulations; how we're updating them and so on. Then I say that while we're thinking about reducing flame retardants, there's no evidence that they're harmful. This produces protests from the IKEA and California women. But I'm not sure why.
            The moment the meeting finishes, the two women head straight for me and instinctively I hold up my sandwich plate by way of defence.
            "There's tons of evidence against flame retardants," the California woman says; and Ms IKEA agrees.
            On reflection, I guess a normal civil servant at this point would have said something about how we'll look into it, suggest they write to the Department, and generally avoid the issue.
            "How do I find it?" I say.
            California woman promises to send it to me. She also says that her boss, Arlene Blum, will invite me to a conference next year, in San Francisco.
            After the meeting, I have a discussion with the man from the Commission. His department has always supported the UK regulations and made huge efforts to bring the rest of Europe in line. But now he tells me quite bluntly that, in light of the evidence, the Commission is no longer going to promote the UK regulations to the rest of Europe. Unless it can be done without flame retardants.
            These two discussions are a turning point for me.
            Later, I will see why Bob and Mike (and the guy from Chemtura) took me out for dinner that night. Even later, I will see that the flame retardant industry's plans to block the new match test begun almost as soon as the Brussels meeting finished.
 
 

 May 2012:
            The phone on my desk rings.
            "Terry, it's K. We hear you're thinking of changing the match test."
            This bemuses me at the time. Later, it will chill me.
            "Er, yes, we might be."
            K works for Chemtura, one of the biggest producers of flame retardant chemicals in the world. I've met him several times. He's been to meetings at the Department and I've attended a few that he's organised with the other two big flame retardant producers, and their PR company. 
            He really does call himself K, by the way.
            My mind is racing. I don't really want to tell him too much since Steve Owen and I are still looking at options. More to the point, Steve and I have had a few telephone conversations about developing a new match test but neither of us has told anyone else about it. So how does K know? And why is he letting me know that he knows?
            Later, I will have a better idea of what's really behind this phone call. For example, if the new test that Steve and I are planning to put together goes ahead, the flame retardant industry will immediately lose up to £80m per year, pretty soon after that rising to £160m per year.
            Also, what K knows that I don't is that the USA is moving towards eliminating flame retardants from its sofas - and the population of the US is 5 times that of the UK.
            Also, if the UK moves towards eliminating flame retardants, the EU market will be lost too. Chemtura, ICL and Albemarle have been successfully pushing the European Commission to pave the way for the whole of Europe to take up flame retardants in their furniture but if the UK takes the path Steve and I are planning, another multi-million pound market will be lost too.
            Also, losing the US, the UK and Europe will stifle their attempts to sell flame retardants into the massive developing new markets like India and China.
            Later, when I fully realise just how much is potentially at stake I will not be at all surprised that K had access to the conversations between Steve and I.
            But for now, I'm just thinking that I'll be as honest with K as I can, since this is my main approach to any of the Department's stakeholders.
            "Well," I say, "we know there's no evidence that flame retardants are a problem but some people think they are, and we thought it would be good to take a precautionary approach."
            About now I realise he'd said 'We', not 'I'.
            His voice is oddly soft, rather like a Bond villain who's setting me up for a trip to the torture chamber. "But flame retardants have an excellent track record, Terry, and we wouldn't want to compromise safety. The UK Furniture Regulations are the best in the world."
            This annoys me a little since he's blurred a dividing line here.
            "But the Regulations don't stipulate the use of flame retardants," I say because he's trying to imply that furniture would be unsafe without them.
            "Of course," he says, "but some fabrics will never pass the match test without flame retardants."
            At this time, I don't know whether or not this is true. So I steer the conversation towards an amicable exit.
            Then I phone Steve and tell him about the conversation with K. He too is bemused about how 'we' knew what he and I have been discussing. He also puts me straight about K's last comment.
            "Yes, some fabrics might need more flame retardants with our new test. Man-made and synthetic fibre mixes particularly. But overall, there'll still be a massive reduction in FRs and in any case fabric manufacturers will adjust their weaves with the mixed fibres so they don't need so much FRs."
            As usual, I don't understand all of what Steve's saying but I get some of it. Which is a big improvement on our earlier conversations.
            And so we continue discussing what a new match test might look like, both oblivious to what the flame retardant industry is planning by way of making sure it never goes ahead.