This, more or less, what what my normally wonderful brother said to me after the latest potential show stopper to our loft conversion.
We'd applied for planning permission at the end of January, had it refused, re-submitted plans for permitted development (which moved the wall of our loft a whole six inches back from the edge of the existing wall) and finally - finally - got the all clear to start the work. Except of course for the solar panels which should have been on the plans for the original application, and weren't.
The man from the solar panel company told us our local authority was being difficult and unclear about the angle of the solar panels (to be above the line of the roof, or not to be above the line of the roof, that is the question) and we might need to go back for planning permission for the panels, rather than through permitted development. Which meant another twelve? eight? weeks which meant that we might need to pay for the scaffolding again if the main contractors had finished.
Then the builder queried the position of the steels supports - he was a bit worried that they might be going through the chimney stack. This might have been less irritating if the structural engineer hadn't airily dismissed our suggestions that he might visit us and look at the loft space. "We do work like this all the time" his email stated. "Our experience in these sort of houses should be sufficient." Our builder sucked his teeth and was unconvinced.
So far, we've been patronised by a variety of contractors - the floor fitter who told us the floor we'd chosen was too 'thick'; the structural engineer who did our calculations on the basis of his "extensive experience" without bothering to come and view the property - well, Wimbledon IS a long way from North London; and finally, our architect who suggested we were asking too many questions and taking up too much of his valuable time - which we had paid for.
All this from a bunch of - let's face it - blokes - who smiled benignly at us and told us not to worry our pretty little heads about it all. So far, our architect has submitted incomplete plans; the structural engineer has not taken into account the fact that our chimney breast isn't symmetrical and the steels don't fit where they are supposed to - as a result, we're having to have a 'bulkhead' which certainly isn't in the plans, to make it all work; and the flooring we've chosen is entirely appropriate given that we're having the office there. Perhaps this wouldn't be quite so galling if my partner and I were air heads. But we're not; we just no speaka da building lingo. Although I have to say, we're learning fast.
This frustrating experience had me thinking about words and meaning, laziness and power, exclusion and responsibility. For most people, to know the planning process isn't hard; it's on most local authority websites and most times, it's written in plain English. What's less explicable is the 'black box' of phrases such as "considering your application" which takes ten weeks in which you wonder just how much consideration your one-room dormer with an en suite actually warrants. Laziness in this sort of situation is an art form - from those who can't be bothered to explain in non-technical terms, to those who design the processes to be opaque and mysterious.
The power issues are just as prevalent - from builders who spout jargon to architects and structural engineers who don't translate because it suits them not to. That which needs detailed explanation will always command a fee. This can essentially reduce our involvement to discussions about the wallpaper, or the shape of the loo. And of course, without proper information, we are being asked to take ultimate responsibility without proper understanding.
Sadly, this sort of befuddlement is not limited to the building trade, it's everywhere. People who work together have their own jargon which serves as shorthand and saves time, and also binds people together as they recognise other people 'like them' speaking the same language.
Unfortunately, alongside these qualities it can also serve to exclude people and, if they accept their exclusion, they can also abdicate responsibility.
Given that this is our house, and our money, my partner and I have decided that either we get up to speed on the building world, or negotiations and discussions have to take longer as our various professionals explain in words a five year old could understand precisely what's happening, and the implications of our decisions. We've chosen the latter, but with some sneaky Internet work on the side to meet the builders half way. This enables us to share responsibility and the power inherent in the discussion is evenly spread.
Thankfully, our builders also make their own tea, most of the time.
No comments:
Post a Comment