22 December 2016

Khan Controlled From Manchuria

Was Autopay designed by the Devil?

By Chin Chin

I don’t think it is the Russians, nor even the EU.  None of them may like us very much but there is a deviant sadism here which takes the mind further east, perhaps to the legendary villain Fu Manchu.  Stop!  Hold that thought. Here is another clue. Wasn’t that film about enemies taking over the mind of a US presidential hopeful called “the Manchurian candidate”? That proves it!  It is Manchuria again.  A gang from Manchuria has taken over the mind of Sadiq Khan, Mayor of London.

Now, in his normal state Mr Khan seems a likeable and decent man.  I even broke with party loyalties of a lifetime to vote for him because he seemed to represent all that a civilised Londoner should be.  Yet I am afraid that there is no doubt about it. At the flick of a switch in Manchuria he changes from Jekyll, the sophisticated politician we all know and love, into Hyde, the fiend in charge of the Congestion Charge Autopay system.

At first sight you would think that Autopay was easy to operate.  A big computer adds up the charges and sends out a bill.  The motorist can pay it automatically without lifting a finger. Convenient for the customer.  So it is, so long as it runs smoothly.  However once it has ceased to do so and you need to put things right, the system reveals its diabolical nature and gales of fiendish laughter mock any attempts to solve things by old fashioned techniques like speaking to someone on the telephone.

Suppose for example that your bank reissues your credit card under another number.  As a result Autopay doesn’t receive its payment and so it sends a threatening email.  What should you do?

Well, as we have made it to the 21st-century, the obvious start must be to try to sort things out online.  That should be easy because you have a customer account number and a pin.  Ideally, of course, you would have a password too but, let’s face it; many of us lose that sort of information.  Still, the system is that the customer number and pin enable you to regenerate a password so you press a few keys optimistically.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.  There is no doubt about the identification number.  That is at the head of successive bills.  In my case the pin was written down too, so there wasn’t any doubt about that.  The computer, however, rather than issuing a new password, began to ask questions about my mother’s maiden name and where I was born.

It was Oliver Cromwell who addressed the Synod of the Church of Scotland with the words “in the bowels of Christ conceive it possible that you are mistaken”.  Since the head of the Synod was John Knox, I expect that the plea fell on deaf ears.  I do not pretend to the self-confidence of Knox but there are one or two areas, like my mother’s maiden name and where I was born, on which I am something of an expert.  That didn’t put Autopay off at all. It rejected my answers and suggested that I should ring up on the telephone.

Ringing the Congestion Charge people is quite an experience.  They begin by listing nine different options to choose from.  That sounds normal, if rather generous.  Many other organisations use the system and it usually works.  However, the fiends at Autopay have incorporated a clever trap.  You have to key in your selection at exactly the end of the list. Too early and it is rejected: too late and you have to listen to the whole list all over again.  They also have a most amusing habit of saying that you have not responded when you have done so correctly.  Presumably that is to deal with those jumped up so-and-sos who are naturally good with their timing.

Still. If you practice enough you can beat the system and make your selection.  Now you might think that at this point you would be put through to the operator.  No, that would be much too easy.  Instead you are held in a queue. Other queueing systems tell you how long you will have to wait so that you can decide whether it is worth hanging on. What amateurs! People must be getting through to them all the time. Autopay has a better system. It tells you that you will be held for “more than 10 minutes”.  That could be 11 minutes or it could be five hours.  Brilliant, that should put people off, especially if they are hard up and have ‘pay as you go’ phones.  That’ll learn ’em to be poor!

Once you get through you have gained the outer rampart, but like any good citadel Autopay has further lines of defence.  As soon as you say that you want to clear your account they reply that you must be put through to the payment desk and, before you can stop them, they forward your call.  Does that trigger another dose of the “over 10 minute” system? Alas not.  At that stage they throw you out completely so that you have to dial back in and start the whole progress again.

On my third time round the system (yes, that’s more than three times 10 minutes – let’s say 40 minutes in all) I managed by tearful pleading to get the operator to transfer me without cutting me off.  That was an enormous advance and I wept with gratitude when I finally got through to a payment program.  The end of the quest seemed imminent but I had reckoned without Mr Khan’s final twist.  After asking me to key in the number of my credit card, it complained at digit 3 that it could not recognise the number and recommended me to go to the online system. Needless to say it then cut me off.

Eventually I had something of an inspiration.  I got back to the Autopay number (after a brief practice session to get the timing right and yet another “more than ten minutes”) and asked them to send me a new pin.  That allowed me to get a new password and finally to get into and settle my account.

The whole process had taken some hours and I was fairly persistent about it.  Had I been the sort who panics when faced with computers those hours would probably have been my last.

Now I don’t know whether all this is Mr Khan’s achievement or not. It is possible that he did not design the system himself and only became aware of its ingenuity on his arrival.  Still, it is certainly magnificent.  If the Byzantines had defended themselves with half the ingenuity it would still be Constantinople and not Istanbul.  More importantly perhaps it has the making of a game.  After a heavy Christmas lunch, the number of an Autopay account is handed to each of the assembled guests.  The object is to be the first to pay yours off using only a mobile phone and a credit card.  It would be both exciting and frustrating and could drive the players to madness or worse. Then there will be another game, of guessing answers.  Mine is “the Colonel, in the library with a mobile phone.”

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