Sanity and Summits

The Compte de Rienville was staying at the Manor for a time, so life is good. Very good. We were enjoying coffee, fruit and croissants at the pool, and the croissants were unbelievable. This deserves some explanation.

The Compte, at my request, had come with his cook, Marcel, along with the proviso that I not make Marcel an offer of employment, one that he couldn't refuse. I agreed, but after sampling the croissants, realized that I had been too hasty. My own cook, a Mongolian who went by the name of Gul, had been quite satisfactory until there the unfortunate incident involving a propane tank and a yak rump roast. Since this was the third tank Gul had blown up, and given the outright terror he induced in the other staff members, I had to let Gul go.

Oh, well. Shit happens.

At the pool, the Compte and I were having a lively discussion on the approaching G8 and G20 summits to take place in Huntsville and Toronto respectively. Indeed, that is why the Compte was here in the first place. He headed up the security team for the French, and wanted to review arrangements and be able to assure Nicolas Sarkozy that all would be well. This began a long discussion on summits, broken up at the half-way point when I introduced the Compte to a wonderful albeit somewhat acrobatic way to eat sliced peaches. But I digress.

We agreed wholeheartedly on an approach, and the gist of our conversation is as follows.

The gatherings were way too large. Both the Compte and I recalled the scene from the BBC's magnificent Yes, Minister series where the Minister, on a trip to the Middle east and being conscious of costs, asks Sir Humphrey that he hoped the delegation would be a small one. They were having this chat in an aircraft while awaiting takeoff.

"The delegation? Oh, pared to the bone, Minister. Pared to the bone!"

The Minister could not see from his viewpoint on the aircraft the impossibly long line of suits stretching from the plane across the tarmac to a terminal in the distance. Small, indeed.

And that's the problem. Too many people not germane to the purpose at hand. Yes, it is important for the leaders of the world's most influential countries to meet face to face, and come to know one another. Anyone who has played poker knows that. But all the hangers-on, the sycophants, the public relation types, et cetera and so on, well, in our opinion, NOT NEEDED. Better to have just three representatives from each country. The leader, plus a person whom that leader knows is smarter than he or she is, (in the men's case, usually his wife) and a minder who is adept at all things where security is an issue. Add this up: twenty countries, three from each, and you have a maximum of sixty people.

The host countries will therefore only be left with expenses for interpreters, plus safety measures. Moreover, those measures are far easier and a damn sight less expensive to provide for sixty than for six hundred.

This made sense to the Compte and me anyway.

Of course, meeting face to face might not be all it's cracked up to be. In this context, it is wise to remember Macbeth, and King Duncan's words on learning of his betrayal by the Thane of Cawder: "There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face. He was a gentleman on whom I placed an absolute trust."

Happens far too often these days.