Damages are bingo. But people like bingo.

SOCIETY. CLIMATE. LAW. Dieters want to lose weight, but don't mind losing the planet

I have a maxim: “No matter how much mess you get into, the biggest mess you ever get into will always be of someone else’s making.” Like with Ms/Mr Donoghue’s shock at finding a snail in his/her ginger pop, leading to the landmark case of Donoghue v. Stevenson: the scope of the mess may ultimately be dependent on the susceptibility of them who is messed to attract mess, but in many cases of big messes, the extent of the blame for the mess lies in the insouciance of another they, and the diligence or otherwise of them who finds themselves in the mess in question (I choose my pronouns with care these days). I think the court should have told Ms/Mr Donoghue to grow up. Did they think they (another they) put the snail in there on purpose?

The case of Donoghue v. Stevenson started in the Outer House of the Court of Session, and progressed all the way to Scotland’s highest civil court: then, the House of Lords. It established a number of important precedents:

(i) bottles for fizzy drinks should not be stored where snails can get into them (the free access of snails);

(ii) you don’t need to buy something to be able to claim if it’s defective (the lady’s friend had bought it); and

(iii) you can get gastro-enteritis from looking at a dead snail (they didn’t drink the pop, not even the one who bought it).

It helps if, three weeks previously, the makers of Irn Bru® have been claimed against for the same delict. Clearly, southern Scotland in 1929 was suffering from a plague of snails.

What the case determined, inter alia, was that soft drinks manufacturers:

(i) owe a duty of care to those who drink their products, and that

(ii) adding a penny to the price of ginger beer will bring in enough dosh to make sure bottles get cleaned properly.

When you claim against a company for damages, it’s not the company that pays. It’s everyone else. It’s the other customers, who have to pay a penny more; the insurer, who pays out the damages; and the insurer’s other insured, who have to stump up higher premiums. Everyone pays, except the company. The lady whom The Ladykillers wanted to kill, when told to keep the robbery loot — by the police, no less, how strange — reasoned to herself in the words of Professor Alec Guinness, “It is after all only a halfpenny on everyone’s policy,” and that’s enough to make it all right to steal thousands of pounds of Post Office dosh. Professor Bill Wilson, who taught me delict at uni, and this case in particular, famously said, “The law of damages is like bingo. But people like bingo.”

What I like is the colour orange, and when an orange car draws up in front of my house, I take notice, because the council’s vehicles are orange, and maybe there’s a problem with my drain. One just did today, and out I went to see what the trouble was. But it wasn’t the council, it was (what looked ostensibly like) a lady sitting eating a rather delicious looking rice cracker topped with cream cheese. Philadelphia, I reckon. It was lunch time, and I think the person is on a diet. Sharp eyes. I refrained from advising them that a bit of sweat would do a dieter no harm.

His or her engine was turning as he or she enjoyed his or her make-shift repast, and I indicated I’d like a word with said personage. I said, “Could you turn your engine off, to save the planet, maybe?” They objected: it is warm. I was outside the car, but still could not disagree with them (who was alone). It’s very warm. I said, “Your engine turning is simply making it warmer. Could you turn it off, please?”

Within a few seconds, they’d moved on, probably up the street, to eat their rice cracker and cream cheese (alone) elsewhere than in front of the house of a pesky tree-hugger.

They wanted his or her comfort, and so did I. It’s not very hot today, it’s sweltering. But, saving the planet, dear Professor Wilson, is also like playing bingo. And people like bingo. And everyone gets to pay in the end, anyway.

The mess of climate change: it’s always of someone else’s making.

Below, a picture of an orange car. Very dissimilar to the one in front of my house just now.

PS, I have snails in my postbox, and they eat my electricity bills. Does that make it snail mail?