Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Wednesday 31 May 2023
Monday 17 May 2021
How to avoid the return of office cliques
Some managers are wary of telling staff that going into a workplace has networking benefits writes Emma Jacobs in The FT
After weighing up the pros and cons of future working patterns, Dropbox decided against the hybrid model — when the working week is split between the office and home. “It has some pretty significant drawbacks,” says Melanie Collins, chief people officer. Uppermost is that it “could lead to issues with inclusion, or disparities with respect to performance or career trajectory”. In the end, the cloud storage and collaboration platform opted for a virtual-first policy, which prioritises remote work over the office.
As offices open, there are fears that if hybrid is mismanaged, organisational power will revert to the workplace with executives forming in-office cliques and those employees who seek promotion and networking opportunities switching back to face time with senior staff as a way to advance their careers.
The office pecking order
Status-conscious workers may be itching to return to the office, says Tomas Chamorro-Premuzic, professor of business psychology at Columbia University and UCL. “Humans are hierarchical by nature, and the office always conveyed status and hierarchy — car parking spots, cars, corner office, size, windows. The risk now is that, in a fully hybrid and flexible world, status ends up positively correlated with the number of days at the office.”
This could create a two-tier workforce: those who want flexibility to work from home — notably those with caring responsibilities — and those who gravitate towards the office. Rosie Campbell, professor of politics and director of the Global Institute for Women’s Leadership at King’s College London, says that past research has shown that “part-time or remote workers tend not to get promoted”. This has been described as the “flexibility stigma, defined as the “discrimination and negative perception towards workers who work flexibly, and [consequent] negative career outcomes”.
Research by Heejung Chung, reader in sociology and social policy at Kent University, carried out before the pandemic, found that “women, especially mothers (of children below 12) [were] likely to have experienced some sort of negative career consequence due to flexible working”. Lockdowns disproportionately increased caring responsibilities for women, through home-schooling and closure of childcare facilities.
Missing out on career development
Some companies are creating regional hubs or leasing local co-working spaces so that workers can go to offices closer to home, reducing commute times and the costs of expensive office space. Lloyds Banking Group is among a number of banks, for example, that have said they will use surplus space in their branches for meetings. The risk, Campbell says, is workers using local offices miss out on exposure to senior leaders and larger networks that might advance their careers. “People might say it’s easier to be at home or use suburban hubs but it might actually be better to go into the office. Regional or suburban hubs are giving you a place to work that isn’t at home but isn’t giving you any of the face time.”
Employers and team leaders may need to be explicit about the purpose of the office: not only is it a good place for collaborating with teams and serendipitous conversations but also for networking.
Mark Mortensen, associate professor of organisational behaviour at Insead, points out it is difficult — and paternalistic — as a manager to suggest an employee spends more time in the office to boost their career. A recent opinion article by Cathy Merrill, chief executive of Washingtonian Media, in the Washington Post, sparked a huge backlash on social media and more importantly, her employees, for arguing that those who do not return to the office might find themselves out of a job. “The hardest people to let go are the ones you know,” she wrote.
Her staff felt their remote work had been unappreciated and were angry that they had not been consulted over future work plans — so they went on strike.
Mortensen does not advise presenting staff with job loss threats, but puts forward a case for frank and open conversations about the value of time in the office. “Informal networks aren’t just nice to have, they are important. We need to tell people the risk is if you are working remotely you will be missing out on something that might prove beneficial in your career. It’s tough. People will say they sell things on their skills but you have to be honest and say that relationships are important. Weak ties can be the most critical in shaping people’s career paths.”
The problem is that after dealing with a pandemic and lockdowns, workers may not be in the best place to know what they want out of future work patterns. Chamorro-Premuzic says that he fears that even people who are enjoying it right now, may not realise “they are burnt out. It’s like the introvert who likes working from home, they’re playing to their strength — staying in their own comfort zone.”
Examine workplace culture
As employers try to configure ways of working they need to scrutinise workplace culture and find out why employees might prefer to be at home. Some will have always felt excluded from networks and sponsorship in the office — and being away from it means that they do not have to think about it.
Future Forum, Slack’s future of work think-tank, found that black knowledge workers were more likely to prefer a hybrid or remote work model because the office was a frequent reminder “of their outsider status in both subtle (microaggressions) and not-so-subtle (overt discrimination) ways”. It said the solution was not to give “black employees the ability to work from home, while white executives return to old habits [but] about fundamentally changing your own ways of working and holding people accountable for driving inclusivity in your workplace”.
Some experts believe that the pandemic has fundamentally altered workplace behaviour. Tsedal Neeley, professor of business administration at Harvard Business School and author of Remote Work Revolution, is optimistic. “Individuals are worried about their career trajectory because the paranoia is, ‘If we don’t go to the office will we get the same opportunities and career mobility if we’re not physically in the office?’ These would be very legitimate worries 13 months ago but less of a concern now.”
Chung co-authored a report by Birmingham University that found more fathers taking on caring responsibilities and an increase in the “number of couples who indicate that they have shared housework [and] care activities during lockdown”. This might shift couples’ attitudes to splitting work and home duties and alter employers’ stigmatisation of flexible working.
Prevent an in-crowd
There are some measures that employers can take to try to prevent office cliques forming. Some workplaces will require teams to come in on the same days so employees get access to their manager, rather than leaving it to individuals to arrange their own office schedules. Though this would mean team members might not get access to senior leaders or form ties with other teams that they might have done when the office was the default.
Lauren Pasquarella Daley, senior director of women and the future of work at Catalyst, a non-profit that advocates for women at work, says senior executives need to be “intentional about sponsorship and mentoring” rather than letting these relationships form by chance.
They must also be role models for flexible working. “If employees don’t feel it’s OK to take advantage of remote work then they won’t do so.” This means ensuring meetings are documented. If, for example, one person is working outside the office then everyone needs to act as if they are remote, too.
Chamorro-Premuzic says managers should work on the assumption that in-office cliques will form. This means organisations need to put in place better measures of objectives, performance measures independent of where people are, as well as measuring and monitoring bias (for example, if you know how often people come to work, you can test whether there is a correlation between being at work and getting a positive performance review, which would suggest bias or adverse impact), and training leaders and managers on how to be inclusive.
“We may not have tonnes of data on the disparate impact of hybrid policies on underprivileged groups, but it is naive to assume it won’t happen. The big question is how to mitigate it,” he says.
Wednesday 4 April 2018
Broadcaster Bias and Ball Tampering
Sidharth Monga in Cricinfo
There is a cricket match on. Not high-profile but still an international. Like all internationals, it is being televised. The broadcast director spots a player from Team A tampering with the ball. He shares the footage with the match referee, who brushes the matter under the carpet and hands out a slap on the wrist. The director has done his job; it is up to the match referee to determine the degree of offence.
It is not the end of the story, though. The manager of Team A, the away team in this case, confronts the channel. "You are only after our guys," he says. The footage is not aired on TV but a token punishment has been handed out. A commentator on the broadcast, a former player from Team B, the host team in this case, gets wind of it, and puts pressure on the broadcaster, through his board, for the footage to be aired, because the punishments handed out tend to be more severe when the evidence is made public, once the righteousness kicks in. The TV channel doesn't know what to do. It can't really afford to antagonise either board because it is in business with both. So to get the local board off his back, the director tells the home board that if he airs the footage he is being urged to, he will have to be equally vigilant with the home team and air any footage that the cameramen come up with. The threat works.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is a short story about ball-tampering, but it tells you more than any other yarn can.
On paper the umpires run the game, but they can only act if they have video evidence, because the ICC's code-of-conduct charges must be able to stick in a court of law. And remember what happened the last time an umpire acted without video evidence, at The Oval in 2006?
Which brings us to commentators. Many of them - not all - still consider themselves part of the teams they once represented. They fight their team's PR battles in the commentary box, and some often go beyond, in trying to make sure "their boys" are on the right side of calls of ball-tampering and player behaviour.
There are exceptions - like the one who asked the broadcast director in a match to keep an eye on the team that commentator once played for because he could sense something dodgy happening. It resulted in the discovery of a new tampering technique and a hefty fine. Needless to say, the "boys" don't like the commentator now, but they haven't yet got to the level of entitlement where it drives them enough to get him fired.
The way teams react makes it clear how commonplace tampering is. The manager of the guilty team says his side is being targeted; he knows other teams are guilty just as often. The other board has no reason to back off, other than, well, its team also does it. And whenever anything happens, the ICC, the commentators, the teams and their boards, all run to the broadcasters.
Since that Oval match, all the ball-tampering incidents that have officially been termed as such have relied on broadcasters. On all occasions, it is away players who have been caught tampering: Faf du Plessis in the UAE and in Australia, Vernon Philander in Sri Lanka, Shahid Afridi in Australia, and Dasun Shanaka in India. Aspersions were cast against Stuart Broad and James Anderson in South Africa, where too now the Cape Town three have been caught.
Neutral broadcasts - during ICC events - have not caught a single player tampering with the ball (though there was a match in the 2013 Champions Trophy where the umpires quietly changed the ball without imposing penalty runs, to avoid the morality furore that accompanies the laying of a ball-tampering charge, and also because the broadcast didn't have footage to back them).
"Would there have been footage against a home player? Would the broadcaster have even gone looking? More importantly, should cricket be comfortable with broadcasters wielding so much influence practically unwatched and unchecked?"
The Cape Town scandal is a perfect example of the role the broadcaster needs to play for a ball-tampering offence to not just come to light but for the charge to stick. Various broadcast directors have told ESPNcricinfo they don't usually follow the ball as closely as was done here. For example, in the normal course, they follow the ball into the keeper's gloves, through to slip, and then cut away to some other action. One of them says it is mostly so they can turn a blind eye to some of the tampering, without which, he believes reverse swing is not possible. He means that the use of lozenge-laden spit, and fake shining - when the thumb hidden between the ball and the thigh goes to work - is actually often overlooked. Call it the thieves' code but this much has been acceptable and well known.
Also, broadcasters don't usually want to play dirty and expose only the visiting side, given both teams might equally be doing things that are considered, among cricketers, as Derek Pringle once wrote, "little more than mischief". No director wants to live with that guilt until he is asked to look for something - in which case, the moral responsibility lies with someone else.
In Cape Town last month, though, the broadcasters were on Australia all along. David Warner's heavily taped hand came under the scanner first. Warner knew it too. When visuals first emerged, the tape on his hand was unmarked. The next day he had his wife's name written on it - a possible wink to the broadcasters that he knew what they were up to. Was the focus on Warner a possible reason for ball-handling duties being transferred to Cameron Bancroft?
The actual footage that led to the nabbing of Bancroft had a shot from the midwicket camera between overs. Not only is it rare for cameras to be following the ball between overs, but also for between-overs footage to be recorded on the EVS platform. EVS is a Belgian company that manufactures live outdoor broadcast digital production systems. For something to be replayed, the EVS system has to record it first. Between-overs footage from midwicket cameras is not often recorded. When Bancroft shoved the sandpaper into his pants, however, he was at short extra cover, which happened to be the perfect position for the Ultra Motion camera - usually placed at reverse slip - to catch him in the act. That said, once the broadcast wants to go after you, there is no fielding position that is safer than others.
Fanie de Villiers, the former South Africa cricketer, now a commentator, has since said to RSN Breakfast, a radio show, that they, the commentators, had asked the cameramen to look for tampering. The version coming from the Australian media is that the South Africa players had made a request through the commentators. Alvin Naicker, head of production at Supersport, was soon quoted by Supersport as saying they spotted something first and then went looking closely, not the other way around.
"If we go looking for it," says another director familiar with at least two ball-tampering incidents in the past, "over a three- or four-Test series, we can catch any team. Everybody does it. Every time there is some reverse, there is something behind it." Unless, of course, it is one of those replaced balls that begin to "go" immediately, like for Dale Steyn in Nagpur in 2010, or for Mitchell Starc in Durban in this series.
South Africa are no saints when it comes to ball-tampering, as their record will show, but they have never been caught at home. The last time they were caught, in Australia, they were incensed. Not because they didn't do it - it was on tape - but presumably because it was such a minor and acceptable act that they must have felt the thieves' code had been broken. Footage that was either not seen during the broadcast or was too insignificant to have been noticed, had conveniently made its way to - surprise, surprise - a news channel. The ICC's hands were now tied. It had to act. It did. Faf du Plessis and South Africa were furious.![]()
There has been an unspoken rule among broadcast directors to not have cameras follow the ball when it is not in play, so a blind eye can be turned to "routine" tampering, without which reverse swing is not possible
Naicker obviously rubbished any suggestions his channel might have acted on instructions or as a response to what happened in Australia. "We don't want it to seem like we are going after the Australian team," he was quoted as saying by Supersport's website. "If that was a South African, we would have broadcast the footage for sure. We have a responsibility to entertain, but just like journalists, we have a moral obligation to provide unbiased editorial."
The question, though, is: would there have been footage against a home player in the first place? Would they have even gone looking? More importantly, should cricket be comfortable with broadcasters wielding so much influence practically unwatched and unchecked?
As cricket continues to embrace technology, host broadcasters have assumed huge significance. ESPNcricinfo knows of a case where a broadcast didn't air footage of, or alert match officials to, a home player tampering with the ball; and it is a fact that they hardly ever go looking for tampering with home players. There have been various other instances where the umpires have seen something but can't find footage to back their claims.
The ICC has practically outsourced decision-making to the broadcasters, and it is not restricted to ball-tampering. ESPNcricinfo has learnt that on day four of the Bangalore Test between India and Australia last year, India's coaching staff asked a commentator to ask the broadcaster to keep an eye on Australia because they had suspected dressing-room assistance on DRS. It just so happened that that was the day Steve Smith was caughtsoliciting such assistance , but what resort do India have if they suspect something similar on an away tour? Malcolm Conn, a former cricket writer with News Corporation, and now Cricket Australia communications manager, might well have been referring to these cases when he pointed to the "hypocrisy of home advantage" in lashing out at yet another tweet by British media enjoying the Australians' suffering. Home advantage is not restricted to pitches and conditions anymore. If it wants to be, the broadcaster can well and truly be the 12th man for the home team, and the ICC can do nothing about it.
The ICC, in fact, trusts broadcasters more than it does its own umpires, who are not allowed to stand in matches in which their country is playing. The broadcaster, on the other hand pays for, controls, and mans the technology required for all the decision- making. Projected paths used for DRS lbw calls are off limits for any independent scrutiny because the technology is "proprietary". And yet, even if the broadcasters don't like it, they are forced to pay for Hawk-Eye because the ICC has made it mandatory for the DRS.
Broadcasters, like everyone else, are open to biases. Biases of nationality, biases of what is best for business (home teams losing or their players getting caught cheating certainly aren't). The biases weren't born with the DRS either. If you remember Jonty Rhodes' low catch to dismiss Sachin Tendulkar in the washed-out 1996-97 tri-series final in Durban, you will remember Rahul Dravid fell to a similar low catch but replays of that were not shown. When Kapil Dev mankaded Peter Kirsten, Kepler Wessels hit Kapil on the shin with his bat - visuals we have never seen. Google "Matthew Wade Virat Kohli sendoff", and you will find many videos of Wade arguing with Kohli for sneaking in a bye when Wade was hit by the ball - incidentally the very kind of moralising that resulted in such schadenfreude at Australia's recent fall - but you will not be able to find footage of the sendoff that Kohli gave later in the same match.
Yet it remains next to impossible for a broadcaster to cheat - be it "losing" a key visual, providing a wrong replay to determine a no-ball, or playing around with other evidence - because it is just impossible for something dodgy to have happened and for it to stay in the production control room. These things travel, unless the manipulation is systemic or institutionalised. There is no evidence of this having happened yet, but like with other conflicts of interest, it is the possibility of it that should make people uncomfortable.
"Broadcasters, it needs to be stressed, don't like to be in a position to influence results, no matter what they do to influence public opinion with their commentary and other output"
Broadcasters, it needs to be stressed, don't like to be in a position to influence results, no matter what they do to influence public opinion with their commentary and other output. What are they to say to the home captain if he wants extra scrutiny on the opposition? They are in the entertainment business, and they would rather they didn't have to carry the additional burden of decision-making in these contexts. In fact, they hate it when they are told to turn down the volume of the stump mics because the players are abusive. They don't pay astronomical sums to be told what they can or cannot show. They want the ICC to control the players instead of controlling the broadcast, which is enhanced by the observations and quips of a wicketkeeper such as MS Dhoni. They want the ICC to take control of decision-making technology so that they, the broadcasters, are not seen as all too powerful.
They are not happy that the third umpire doesn't sit with them and take charge of what he wants, but for that the ICC has a valid explanation. The third umpire sits alone because any conversation he has with others is liable to directly or indirectly influence his decision-making.
While the ICC has made strides towards training its third umpires in the use of technology, there remain inconsistencies. "One match referee tells me I must give the third umpire only what he asks for," a director says, "while another says I must give him everything that can help him arrive at the correct decision. As an organisation, ICC seems happy with not taking absolute control and the accountability that comes with it."
Recently in a PSL match, Karachi Kings' celebrations were halted when it was discovered the last ball of the match was a no-ball. No umpire had suspected one in this case but the broadcasters alerted them. This no-ball resulted in a Super Over, which Karachi lost. What are the odds of this happening to the home team in a bitterly fought contest between Australia and South Africa?
It is not that the ICC is not aware or not uncomfortable. It has been discussed in the ICC that only away players get caught tampering with the ball. Like with most things ICC, the governing body can't do much more. It cannot take any action without video evidence, nor can it look away when a broadcaster puts evidence out there. When umpires come back to the ICC with suspicions of ball-tampering, they review the available footage and find nothing. Even at The Oval in 2006, Pakistan accepted the decision at first, and hit back at the umpires when they were sure there was no footage to implicate them, an ICC source has revealed. It is not practical for the ICC to ask the broadcaster for additional footage that might help implicate a home player, because of the blowback that will immediately ensue. And yet when footage appears of du Plessis going to his lozenge to shine the ball, the ICC has to act, even though a blind eye is turned to this kind of thing most times.
The ICC is also aware its trust in broadcasters for the DRS and third umpires is blind. The only direct solution is to pay for all the technology and also have a few cameras at every international match to monitor ball-tampering. This is not cost-effective, and it has not gone beyond ICC board meetings. Ultimately if the ICC does pay for all the technology, the money has to come from the member boards - and, like in the matter of the Associates, we all know what the decision has been there, and is likely to be in future. The other solution to this was to accept ball-tampering as an offence of the nature of over-appealing or showing dissent, but that ship sailed long ago, as was obvious in this most recent episode from the sadistic sanctimony of various former captains.
So as usual, the ICC is likely to look only for indirect solutions when it undertakes a review of its code of conduct, and ball-tampering in particular. If the indications are anything to go by, ball-tampering will become a more grave, more clearly defined offence. The "spirit of cricket" will be defined more clearly. It will be made clearer that the onus is on captains, and possibly boards, to play in the spirit. This is going to increase the pressure on visiting captains even more. This review will be considered successful only if the ICC can somehow find a way to break the home advantage that comes with broadcasters.
There is a cricket match on. Not high-profile but still an international. Like all internationals, it is being televised. The broadcast director spots a player from Team A tampering with the ball. He shares the footage with the match referee, who brushes the matter under the carpet and hands out a slap on the wrist. The director has done his job; it is up to the match referee to determine the degree of offence.
It is not the end of the story, though. The manager of Team A, the away team in this case, confronts the channel. "You are only after our guys," he says. The footage is not aired on TV but a token punishment has been handed out. A commentator on the broadcast, a former player from Team B, the host team in this case, gets wind of it, and puts pressure on the broadcaster, through his board, for the footage to be aired, because the punishments handed out tend to be more severe when the evidence is made public, once the righteousness kicks in. The TV channel doesn't know what to do. It can't really afford to antagonise either board because it is in business with both. So to get the local board off his back, the director tells the home board that if he airs the footage he is being urged to, he will have to be equally vigilant with the home team and air any footage that the cameramen come up with. The threat works.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is a short story about ball-tampering, but it tells you more than any other yarn can.
On paper the umpires run the game, but they can only act if they have video evidence, because the ICC's code-of-conduct charges must be able to stick in a court of law. And remember what happened the last time an umpire acted without video evidence, at The Oval in 2006?
Which brings us to commentators. Many of them - not all - still consider themselves part of the teams they once represented. They fight their team's PR battles in the commentary box, and some often go beyond, in trying to make sure "their boys" are on the right side of calls of ball-tampering and player behaviour.
There are exceptions - like the one who asked the broadcast director in a match to keep an eye on the team that commentator once played for because he could sense something dodgy happening. It resulted in the discovery of a new tampering technique and a hefty fine. Needless to say, the "boys" don't like the commentator now, but they haven't yet got to the level of entitlement where it drives them enough to get him fired.
The way teams react makes it clear how commonplace tampering is. The manager of the guilty team says his side is being targeted; he knows other teams are guilty just as often. The other board has no reason to back off, other than, well, its team also does it. And whenever anything happens, the ICC, the commentators, the teams and their boards, all run to the broadcasters.
Since that Oval match, all the ball-tampering incidents that have officially been termed as such have relied on broadcasters. On all occasions, it is away players who have been caught tampering: Faf du Plessis in the UAE and in Australia, Vernon Philander in Sri Lanka, Shahid Afridi in Australia, and Dasun Shanaka in India. Aspersions were cast against Stuart Broad and James Anderson in South Africa, where too now the Cape Town three have been caught.
Neutral broadcasts - during ICC events - have not caught a single player tampering with the ball (though there was a match in the 2013 Champions Trophy where the umpires quietly changed the ball without imposing penalty runs, to avoid the morality furore that accompanies the laying of a ball-tampering charge, and also because the broadcast didn't have footage to back them).
"Would there have been footage against a home player? Would the broadcaster have even gone looking? More importantly, should cricket be comfortable with broadcasters wielding so much influence practically unwatched and unchecked?"
The Cape Town scandal is a perfect example of the role the broadcaster needs to play for a ball-tampering offence to not just come to light but for the charge to stick. Various broadcast directors have told ESPNcricinfo they don't usually follow the ball as closely as was done here. For example, in the normal course, they follow the ball into the keeper's gloves, through to slip, and then cut away to some other action. One of them says it is mostly so they can turn a blind eye to some of the tampering, without which, he believes reverse swing is not possible. He means that the use of lozenge-laden spit, and fake shining - when the thumb hidden between the ball and the thigh goes to work - is actually often overlooked. Call it the thieves' code but this much has been acceptable and well known.
Also, broadcasters don't usually want to play dirty and expose only the visiting side, given both teams might equally be doing things that are considered, among cricketers, as Derek Pringle once wrote, "little more than mischief". No director wants to live with that guilt until he is asked to look for something - in which case, the moral responsibility lies with someone else.
In Cape Town last month, though, the broadcasters were on Australia all along. David Warner's heavily taped hand came under the scanner first. Warner knew it too. When visuals first emerged, the tape on his hand was unmarked. The next day he had his wife's name written on it - a possible wink to the broadcasters that he knew what they were up to. Was the focus on Warner a possible reason for ball-handling duties being transferred to Cameron Bancroft?
The actual footage that led to the nabbing of Bancroft had a shot from the midwicket camera between overs. Not only is it rare for cameras to be following the ball between overs, but also for between-overs footage to be recorded on the EVS platform. EVS is a Belgian company that manufactures live outdoor broadcast digital production systems. For something to be replayed, the EVS system has to record it first. Between-overs footage from midwicket cameras is not often recorded. When Bancroft shoved the sandpaper into his pants, however, he was at short extra cover, which happened to be the perfect position for the Ultra Motion camera - usually placed at reverse slip - to catch him in the act. That said, once the broadcast wants to go after you, there is no fielding position that is safer than others.
Fanie de Villiers, the former South Africa cricketer, now a commentator, has since said to RSN Breakfast, a radio show, that they, the commentators, had asked the cameramen to look for tampering. The version coming from the Australian media is that the South Africa players had made a request through the commentators. Alvin Naicker, head of production at Supersport, was soon quoted by Supersport as saying they spotted something first and then went looking closely, not the other way around.
"If we go looking for it," says another director familiar with at least two ball-tampering incidents in the past, "over a three- or four-Test series, we can catch any team. Everybody does it. Every time there is some reverse, there is something behind it." Unless, of course, it is one of those replaced balls that begin to "go" immediately, like for Dale Steyn in Nagpur in 2010, or for Mitchell Starc in Durban in this series.
South Africa are no saints when it comes to ball-tampering, as their record will show, but they have never been caught at home. The last time they were caught, in Australia, they were incensed. Not because they didn't do it - it was on tape - but presumably because it was such a minor and acceptable act that they must have felt the thieves' code had been broken. Footage that was either not seen during the broadcast or was too insignificant to have been noticed, had conveniently made its way to - surprise, surprise - a news channel. The ICC's hands were now tied. It had to act. It did. Faf du Plessis and South Africa were furious.
There has been an unspoken rule among broadcast directors to not have cameras follow the ball when it is not in play, so a blind eye can be turned to "routine" tampering, without which reverse swing is not possible
Naicker obviously rubbished any suggestions his channel might have acted on instructions or as a response to what happened in Australia. "We don't want it to seem like we are going after the Australian team," he was quoted as saying by Supersport's website. "If that was a South African, we would have broadcast the footage for sure. We have a responsibility to entertain, but just like journalists, we have a moral obligation to provide unbiased editorial."
The question, though, is: would there have been footage against a home player in the first place? Would they have even gone looking? More importantly, should cricket be comfortable with broadcasters wielding so much influence practically unwatched and unchecked?
As cricket continues to embrace technology, host broadcasters have assumed huge significance. ESPNcricinfo knows of a case where a broadcast didn't air footage of, or alert match officials to, a home player tampering with the ball; and it is a fact that they hardly ever go looking for tampering with home players. There have been various other instances where the umpires have seen something but can't find footage to back their claims.
The ICC has practically outsourced decision-making to the broadcasters, and it is not restricted to ball-tampering. ESPNcricinfo has learnt that on day four of the Bangalore Test between India and Australia last year, India's coaching staff asked a commentator to ask the broadcaster to keep an eye on Australia because they had suspected dressing-room assistance on DRS. It just so happened that that was the day Steve Smith was caughtsoliciting such assistance , but what resort do India have if they suspect something similar on an away tour? Malcolm Conn, a former cricket writer with News Corporation, and now Cricket Australia communications manager, might well have been referring to these cases when he pointed to the "hypocrisy of home advantage" in lashing out at yet another tweet by British media enjoying the Australians' suffering. Home advantage is not restricted to pitches and conditions anymore. If it wants to be, the broadcaster can well and truly be the 12th man for the home team, and the ICC can do nothing about it.
The ICC, in fact, trusts broadcasters more than it does its own umpires, who are not allowed to stand in matches in which their country is playing. The broadcaster, on the other hand pays for, controls, and mans the technology required for all the decision- making. Projected paths used for DRS lbw calls are off limits for any independent scrutiny because the technology is "proprietary". And yet, even if the broadcasters don't like it, they are forced to pay for Hawk-Eye because the ICC has made it mandatory for the DRS.
Broadcasters, like everyone else, are open to biases. Biases of nationality, biases of what is best for business (home teams losing or their players getting caught cheating certainly aren't). The biases weren't born with the DRS either. If you remember Jonty Rhodes' low catch to dismiss Sachin Tendulkar in the washed-out 1996-97 tri-series final in Durban, you will remember Rahul Dravid fell to a similar low catch but replays of that were not shown. When Kapil Dev mankaded Peter Kirsten, Kepler Wessels hit Kapil on the shin with his bat - visuals we have never seen. Google "Matthew Wade Virat Kohli sendoff", and you will find many videos of Wade arguing with Kohli for sneaking in a bye when Wade was hit by the ball - incidentally the very kind of moralising that resulted in such schadenfreude at Australia's recent fall - but you will not be able to find footage of the sendoff that Kohli gave later in the same match.
Yet it remains next to impossible for a broadcaster to cheat - be it "losing" a key visual, providing a wrong replay to determine a no-ball, or playing around with other evidence - because it is just impossible for something dodgy to have happened and for it to stay in the production control room. These things travel, unless the manipulation is systemic or institutionalised. There is no evidence of this having happened yet, but like with other conflicts of interest, it is the possibility of it that should make people uncomfortable.
"Broadcasters, it needs to be stressed, don't like to be in a position to influence results, no matter what they do to influence public opinion with their commentary and other output"
Broadcasters, it needs to be stressed, don't like to be in a position to influence results, no matter what they do to influence public opinion with their commentary and other output. What are they to say to the home captain if he wants extra scrutiny on the opposition? They are in the entertainment business, and they would rather they didn't have to carry the additional burden of decision-making in these contexts. In fact, they hate it when they are told to turn down the volume of the stump mics because the players are abusive. They don't pay astronomical sums to be told what they can or cannot show. They want the ICC to control the players instead of controlling the broadcast, which is enhanced by the observations and quips of a wicketkeeper such as MS Dhoni. They want the ICC to take control of decision-making technology so that they, the broadcasters, are not seen as all too powerful.
They are not happy that the third umpire doesn't sit with them and take charge of what he wants, but for that the ICC has a valid explanation. The third umpire sits alone because any conversation he has with others is liable to directly or indirectly influence his decision-making.
While the ICC has made strides towards training its third umpires in the use of technology, there remain inconsistencies. "One match referee tells me I must give the third umpire only what he asks for," a director says, "while another says I must give him everything that can help him arrive at the correct decision. As an organisation, ICC seems happy with not taking absolute control and the accountability that comes with it."
Recently in a PSL match, Karachi Kings' celebrations were halted when it was discovered the last ball of the match was a no-ball. No umpire had suspected one in this case but the broadcasters alerted them. This no-ball resulted in a Super Over, which Karachi lost. What are the odds of this happening to the home team in a bitterly fought contest between Australia and South Africa?
It is not that the ICC is not aware or not uncomfortable. It has been discussed in the ICC that only away players get caught tampering with the ball. Like with most things ICC, the governing body can't do much more. It cannot take any action without video evidence, nor can it look away when a broadcaster puts evidence out there. When umpires come back to the ICC with suspicions of ball-tampering, they review the available footage and find nothing. Even at The Oval in 2006, Pakistan accepted the decision at first, and hit back at the umpires when they were sure there was no footage to implicate them, an ICC source has revealed. It is not practical for the ICC to ask the broadcaster for additional footage that might help implicate a home player, because of the blowback that will immediately ensue. And yet when footage appears of du Plessis going to his lozenge to shine the ball, the ICC has to act, even though a blind eye is turned to this kind of thing most times.
The ICC is also aware its trust in broadcasters for the DRS and third umpires is blind. The only direct solution is to pay for all the technology and also have a few cameras at every international match to monitor ball-tampering. This is not cost-effective, and it has not gone beyond ICC board meetings. Ultimately if the ICC does pay for all the technology, the money has to come from the member boards - and, like in the matter of the Associates, we all know what the decision has been there, and is likely to be in future. The other solution to this was to accept ball-tampering as an offence of the nature of over-appealing or showing dissent, but that ship sailed long ago, as was obvious in this most recent episode from the sadistic sanctimony of various former captains.
So as usual, the ICC is likely to look only for indirect solutions when it undertakes a review of its code of conduct, and ball-tampering in particular. If the indications are anything to go by, ball-tampering will become a more grave, more clearly defined offence. The "spirit of cricket" will be defined more clearly. It will be made clearer that the onus is on captains, and possibly boards, to play in the spirit. This is going to increase the pressure on visiting captains even more. This review will be considered successful only if the ICC can somehow find a way to break the home advantage that comes with broadcasters.
Tuesday 16 February 2016
The housing crisis is creating sharp-elbowed husband hunters
Grace Dent in The Independent
“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” wrote Jane Austen, foretelling the British housing situation in 2016, “that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in need of a wife.” Oh how I struggled, as a sixth-former in the Nineties, with the opening lines of Pride and Prejudice.
How hideous, I thought, that a time existed when a woman would marry a man for a house. Cut forward some two decades to the era of the £80,000 mortgage deposit. How odd that marrying bricks and mortar – with an added spouse as a bonus – seems pragmatic, rather than mercenary, today.
I very much enjoyed a recent column by the writer Esther Walker, in which she admits spying her then-boyfriend Giles Coren’s slightly neglected five-bedroom London townhouse, seven years ago, and being instantly smitten. With the house, that is. Coren, as alluring as he is, came second in the equation. First, Walker says, she saw the chipped front door, the replaceable carpets and all that lovely space. Here was a home in which she could live, nest, and raise children.
It is fascinating to me that, five short years ago, a confession as gloriously candid as Walker’s would have provoked feminists into bringing down the internet. I would have been among them, perhaps. Today, I greet the same news with a relaxed shrug of acceptance.
Just five short years ago, I remained convinced that if a young woman – or a young man, for that matter – dreamed audaciously and worked very, very hard, they need not be dependent on anyone for a home. I bought my own house through sheer slog and bloody-mindedness; why couldn’t Generation Buzzfeed do the same?
But little by little, I’ve watched the rise of single men and women trapped in later-life house-shares. I’ve seen how grown-up children are reduced to squatting like cuckoos in their parents’ back bedrooms until well after it is polite. Eventually, I was writing about the rise of strangers in London sharing bunkbeds (out of grim necessity, I should point out, not as a niche hobby).
The future seemed rather infantalising. And for women, feminism may well have flourished, but owning the house you live in, like Beyoncé sang about in “Independent Women” has fallen on its arse somewhat.
The facts are sobering: recent research by the Resolution Foundation on inter-generational fairness shows that in 1998, more than half of those earning 10 to 50 per cent of the average national income had a mortgage. This figure dropped to one in four by 2015. Within a decade, if things continue as they are, one in 10 will have a mortgage. In the late 1990s, when I was a strident youthful thing, it took determined people like me three years to save up for a deposit. Today it would take 22 years. That’s a long time to share a bunk bed, even if it’s in HMP Holloway.
This is particularly bleak in the light of new research on the rise of the “crowd worker” – people paid through online platforms such as Uber, Upwork and TaskRabbit. Here, instead of fairly paid, pensionable work which impresses mortgage vendors, there is a generation tied to their phones waiting to accept or decline piecemeal “tasks”.
Crowdworkers tend to work without benefits such as sick pay, holiday pay, pension contributions or minimum wage guarantees. There must – I suspect, as I’ve never worked like this myself – be a feeling for crowdworkers of being tremendously busy and usefully employed. But meanwhile, financially at least, they are treading water. I’m not sure how you conduct a family life or a relationship around crowdwork, although I’m pretty sure the people who profit from it will say that it’s this versatility that is the unique selling point.
One thing I do know is that Walker’s confession unveils an unpalatable truth about the modern British relationship. We are, increasingly, a nation of clandestine Austen heroines in search of those “in possession of a good fortune”. Be you feminist or fervent bachelor, gay, straight, male, cis or genderfluid; for the average person, marrying into property will be your best shot at “owning it” these days. And if you can charm your name on to the mortgage deeds, well, even better. The housing crisis will make sharp-elbowed, radar-eyed Chelsea husband-hunters of all of us.
In another five years, I predict that Tinder will be outmoded by a simple database of single millennials who were lucky enough to inherit – or afford – a three-bedroom house with space for a homeworking office and a nursery. Or an app which lists unwedded people with sickly parents about to cark it who, in the meantime, happen to be sitting selfishly on a five-bedroom pile in Surrey. In the future, these property owners – not the slinky, the booby or the muscular – will be the sex gods of society.
These gods will woo you with their seductive talk of land registry documents, convertable attic space and the downsides of a 20-metre back garden. You will be powerless in the face of their Farrow & Ball catalogue and hopelessly impressed that their bed is on one level and not accessed via a ladder. You will swipe right for a place to call home. Sure, deep, real love will keep you warm in bed at night. But when the place is yours, you can stick in underfloor heating and a reliable combi-boiler.
“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” wrote Jane Austen, foretelling the British housing situation in 2016, “that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in need of a wife.” Oh how I struggled, as a sixth-former in the Nineties, with the opening lines of Pride and Prejudice.
How hideous, I thought, that a time existed when a woman would marry a man for a house. Cut forward some two decades to the era of the £80,000 mortgage deposit. How odd that marrying bricks and mortar – with an added spouse as a bonus – seems pragmatic, rather than mercenary, today.
I very much enjoyed a recent column by the writer Esther Walker, in which she admits spying her then-boyfriend Giles Coren’s slightly neglected five-bedroom London townhouse, seven years ago, and being instantly smitten. With the house, that is. Coren, as alluring as he is, came second in the equation. First, Walker says, she saw the chipped front door, the replaceable carpets and all that lovely space. Here was a home in which she could live, nest, and raise children.
It is fascinating to me that, five short years ago, a confession as gloriously candid as Walker’s would have provoked feminists into bringing down the internet. I would have been among them, perhaps. Today, I greet the same news with a relaxed shrug of acceptance.
Just five short years ago, I remained convinced that if a young woman – or a young man, for that matter – dreamed audaciously and worked very, very hard, they need not be dependent on anyone for a home. I bought my own house through sheer slog and bloody-mindedness; why couldn’t Generation Buzzfeed do the same?
But little by little, I’ve watched the rise of single men and women trapped in later-life house-shares. I’ve seen how grown-up children are reduced to squatting like cuckoos in their parents’ back bedrooms until well after it is polite. Eventually, I was writing about the rise of strangers in London sharing bunkbeds (out of grim necessity, I should point out, not as a niche hobby).
The future seemed rather infantalising. And for women, feminism may well have flourished, but owning the house you live in, like Beyoncé sang about in “Independent Women” has fallen on its arse somewhat.
The facts are sobering: recent research by the Resolution Foundation on inter-generational fairness shows that in 1998, more than half of those earning 10 to 50 per cent of the average national income had a mortgage. This figure dropped to one in four by 2015. Within a decade, if things continue as they are, one in 10 will have a mortgage. In the late 1990s, when I was a strident youthful thing, it took determined people like me three years to save up for a deposit. Today it would take 22 years. That’s a long time to share a bunk bed, even if it’s in HMP Holloway.
This is particularly bleak in the light of new research on the rise of the “crowd worker” – people paid through online platforms such as Uber, Upwork and TaskRabbit. Here, instead of fairly paid, pensionable work which impresses mortgage vendors, there is a generation tied to their phones waiting to accept or decline piecemeal “tasks”.
Crowdworkers tend to work without benefits such as sick pay, holiday pay, pension contributions or minimum wage guarantees. There must – I suspect, as I’ve never worked like this myself – be a feeling for crowdworkers of being tremendously busy and usefully employed. But meanwhile, financially at least, they are treading water. I’m not sure how you conduct a family life or a relationship around crowdwork, although I’m pretty sure the people who profit from it will say that it’s this versatility that is the unique selling point.
One thing I do know is that Walker’s confession unveils an unpalatable truth about the modern British relationship. We are, increasingly, a nation of clandestine Austen heroines in search of those “in possession of a good fortune”. Be you feminist or fervent bachelor, gay, straight, male, cis or genderfluid; for the average person, marrying into property will be your best shot at “owning it” these days. And if you can charm your name on to the mortgage deeds, well, even better. The housing crisis will make sharp-elbowed, radar-eyed Chelsea husband-hunters of all of us.
In another five years, I predict that Tinder will be outmoded by a simple database of single millennials who were lucky enough to inherit – or afford – a three-bedroom house with space for a homeworking office and a nursery. Or an app which lists unwedded people with sickly parents about to cark it who, in the meantime, happen to be sitting selfishly on a five-bedroom pile in Surrey. In the future, these property owners – not the slinky, the booby or the muscular – will be the sex gods of society.
These gods will woo you with their seductive talk of land registry documents, convertable attic space and the downsides of a 20-metre back garden. You will be powerless in the face of their Farrow & Ball catalogue and hopelessly impressed that their bed is on one level and not accessed via a ladder. You will swipe right for a place to call home. Sure, deep, real love will keep you warm in bed at night. But when the place is yours, you can stick in underfloor heating and a reliable combi-boiler.
Thursday 21 January 2016
Arguing the toss
Nathan Leamon in Cricinfo
Will awarding the toss to the away team even up the playing field and deliver more away Test wins, or is this yet another case of received cricketing wisdom not stacking up with the facts?
You will rarely be criticised for choosing to bat. Batting is the default setting; bowling first is seen as the gamble © Getty Images
On the first morning of the first Test between Pakistan and England in Abu Dhabi, three events came to mind. One current, one recent, one infamous. The first was the conversation between Michael Atherton and both captains at the toss and the unanimity of all concerned. The second, the recent proposal from Ricky Ponting and Michael Holding amongst others, that the toss be done away with in Test cricket and the choice given instead to the away captain. The other was Brisbane 2002, and Nasser Hussain choosing to bowl first on a day almost as hot as the one in Abu Dhabi.
Let's start with the second. The suggestion of awarding the toss to the away captain was made by Ponting as a possible solution to the perceived problem of home teams tailoring wickets to suit their strengths. And the resulting domination of home teams. "It has never been harder to win away from home", we are told repeatedly.
Ironically, the decline of away wins is one of those facts that is assumed to be true without often, it would seem, being checked. In fact, it has never been easier to win on the road. More Tests are won by the away team now than at any time in recent history.
AWAY WINS IN TESTS
Will awarding the toss to the away team even up the playing field and deliver more away Test wins, or is this yet another case of received cricketing wisdom not stacking up with the facts?
You will rarely be criticised for choosing to bat. Batting is the default setting; bowling first is seen as the gamble © Getty ImagesOn the first morning of the first Test between Pakistan and England in Abu Dhabi, three events came to mind. One current, one recent, one infamous. The first was the conversation between Michael Atherton and both captains at the toss and the unanimity of all concerned. The second, the recent proposal from Ricky Ponting and Michael Holding amongst others, that the toss be done away with in Test cricket and the choice given instead to the away captain. The other was Brisbane 2002, and Nasser Hussain choosing to bowl first on a day almost as hot as the one in Abu Dhabi.
Let's start with the second. The suggestion of awarding the toss to the away captain was made by Ponting as a possible solution to the perceived problem of home teams tailoring wickets to suit their strengths. And the resulting domination of home teams. "It has never been harder to win away from home", we are told repeatedly.
Ironically, the decline of away wins is one of those facts that is assumed to be true without often, it would seem, being checked. In fact, it has never been easier to win on the road. More Tests are won by the away team now than at any time in recent history.
AWAY WINS IN TESTS
Decade Win%
2010s 28.8
2000s 28.4
1990s 23.1
1980s 21.1
1970s 22.7
1960s 21.5
This is largely down to the decline in the draw. There have been more and more results in Tests and although the proportion of them that have gone the way of the visitors has shifted slightly in favour of the home team, this has resulted in a significant rise in away wins.
That said, there are other factors that suggest the balance of power is shifting slightly towards the home team. The gap between averages at home and averages away is growing, for example. So let's assume for now that the premise is true, and that home teams are increasingly dominant.
Holding and Ponting have suggested giving the toss to the visiting captain to prevent home teams stacking the conditions in their favour. I don't know whether this is a good idea or not. But there are three reasons that we should question whether it would achieve its aims.
Firstly, it assumes groundsmen can reliably bake certain characteristics into a pitch. In practice, pitch preparation seems to be an inexact science. I have stood before Test matches around the world and listened to groundsmen describe how the pitch is going to play, only to watch it do something completely different half an hour later.
It also presupposes that the interests of groundsman and home team are aligned, which is often not the case. In England for example, venues are heavily incentivised to maximise revenues from the Tests they host by ensuring five full days' play. So groundsmen, understandably, often pay less attention to the needs of the visiting circus than to the people who pay their salary for the other 51 weeks of the year.
Secondly, there is a law of unintended consequences in sporting rule changes that can often produce the opposite result to the one intended. If a home captain had control over the pitch, the framers of this law are assuming he would back away from tilting it in his favour. Is it not just as likely that he would go the other way and seek to produce a pitch so favourable that the toss was taken out of the equation? This after all is what MS Dhoni openly sought to do when England and Australia each last toured, produce pitches that turn big from ball one, and so take the toss out of the equation. Equally, you could imagine England or Australia producing genuine green-tops that would be as helpful to the quicks on day four as day one.
But lastly, and most importantly, it assumes that captains are able to use the toss to their advantage. This is not in any way proven. In fact the evidence suggests it just isn't the case.
At the time of writing, 1,048 Tests have been played since January 1990. During that period, the side that won the toss has lost slightly more (377) matches than it has won (374). Winning the toss in the modern era appears to give a side no advantage at all.
It wasn't always so. On uncovered pitches, batting first in almost all instances was a robustly successful strategy. If it rained during the match, the pitch would deteriorate, affecting the side batting second disproportionately. Until 1970, the side batting first in a Test won 36 per cent of matches, and lost 28 per cent.
But in the modern era, the advantage of winning the toss seems to have disappeared. This is, of course, stunningly counterintuitive. Test cricket is an asymmetric game. One team bats first, then the other. And the two teams' chances of winning are not equal. The team batting first has different requirements for victory to the team batting second, and the pitch changes over the course of the match, affecting the balance of power between bat and ball. Therefore, we would assume, teams that win the toss can choose the best conditions and so gain an advantage. But they don't. How can that possibly be?
Dropped catches and a sickening injury to Simon Jones didn't help Nasser Hussain after he chose to bowl in Brisbane in 2002 © Getty Images
Sometimes, a perfectly reasonable response to current circumstances becomes a habit, then a tradition, then an article of faith that outlives the circumstances that created it. We rarely question what we know to be self-evidently true. And so the bias towards batting first seems to have outlived the circumstances that created it by several decades.
"If you win the toss, nine times out of ten you should bat. On the tenth occasion you should think about bowling and then bat."
That was a very successful strategy to adopt for the first century of Test cricket. And one that is still the default setting for most captains. In the 700 Tests played since January 2000, nearly twice as many captains have batted first than have chosen to bowl. Is it still successful?
In a word, no. In that period, the side batting first has won 36 per cent of those Tests, the side bowling first 39 per cent. The bat-first bias at the toss would seem to be neutral at best, and probably counter-productive.
It is still hard to believe that captains aren't able to use the toss to their advantage. There are venues where the evidence is stark. Some pitches clearly favour the side batting first, some the side batting second. In the 40 Tests played in Lahore, the team batting first has won just three. Adelaide by contrast is a classic bat-first venue. It starts as a batsman's paradise, but by the fifth day can be very tricky to bat on, with considerable turn for the spinners. In the 74 Tests played at the ground the side batting first have won 35, the side batting second 19. Since 1990 averages in the first innings are 44.6, in the second 38.9, the third 30.1 and the fourth 27.1 and, as you would expect, in that period, 25 out of 26 captains have chosen to bat first, gaining a considerable advantage in doing so.
These are not isolated cases. Many pitches have similarly skewed characteristics. Galle and Old Trafford for example, both have similar records to Adelaide. Karachi is as bowl-first friendly as Lahore.
****
Captains' behaviour at the toss seems to be yet another example of received cricketing wisdom not concurring with the evidence. Where what teams do doesn't seem to maximise their chances of winning. Why is this the case?
Well, part of the story involves how our brains handle information. There has been a great deal of research into memory and perception, and the results are both surprising and illuminating when it comes to our decision-making in sport. For a start, our memories don't work as you might expect. They are not akin to a videotape; we don't record a series of events and then play them back as and when they are needed.
The disturbing truth is that our unaided recall is not very good. The human brain encodes less than 10 per cent of what we experience, the rest it simply makes up. Our minds construct a narrative around the coded memories we do have that fills in the gaps with a plausible story. Faced with a huge number of random or near random events (a cricket match, for instance) our brains pattern-spot, even when there is no pattern. Our minds look for those events that they can form into a pattern or story, and that becomes the meaning or lesson that we take away from the match. Even if the vast number of events that occurred didn't fit the pattern, we disproportionately remember the ones that did.
At their best then, our memories seem to work along the lines of Albert Camus's description of fiction, they are the lie through which we tell the truth. What we remember didn't actually happen, what we remember is a story that our brains have fabricated, but one that we hope contains the essential truth of what happened in a way that we can understand and retain.
Our fallible memories are only part of the reason captains and coaches behave the way they do. There is another, far more powerful reason to make the choices they make and one which is harder to argue against. For this we need to go back to Brisbane in 2002, and Nasser Hussain choosing to bowl.
"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
It was the first Test of the Ashes, an Australian team were at the peak of their powers and playing at home in 'Fortress Brisbane', the hardest ground in the world to win at as an away team. No visiting team had won in the last 26 Tests played at the 'Gabbattoir'. Hussain won the toss and chose to bowl, Australia were 364-2 by the close of play and went on to win comfortably.
It is no use looking back with hindsight and using that to determine whether a decision was right or wrong. I am sure that if Nasser had known that choosing to bowl first would bring a host of dropped chances, the loss of a bowler to injury and Australia piling up the first-innings runs, he would have chosen to have a look behind door B and strapped his pads on.
But he didn't know, and in evaluating a past decision, we shouldn't know either. We need to remain behind the veil of ignorance, aware of all the potential paths the match could have taken, but ignorant of the one that it did.
One way we can do that is to simulate the match. There are various models that allow us to simulate matches given the playing strengths of the two sides and give probabilities for the outcome. When we do this for that Brisbane Test, we get the following probabilities for England:
Decision Win Draw Lose
Bat First 4% 3% 93%
Bowl First 4% 10% 86%
Every batsman in Australia's top seven for that match finished his career averaging over 45 (three averaged 50-plus), none of the English players did, only two averaged 40. England had a decent bowling attack. Australia had Warne, McGrath and Gillespie with 1,000 wickets between them already.
England were a pretty good side, they'd won four, lost two of their previous 10 matches. But they were hopelessly outgunned, and in alien conditions. Steve Waugh, the Australian captain, was also going to bowl if he had won the toss. If he had done then Australia would almost certainly have won the match as well. Australia were almost certainly going to win regardless of who did what at the toss.
But none of that made any difference. Hussain's decision to bowl first was castigated by the public and press of both countries. Wisden described it as "one of the costliest decisions in Test history". One senior journalist wrote that the decision should prompt the England captain "to summon his faithful hound, light a last cigarette and load a single bullet into the revolver".
For Nasser in Brisbane, read Ricky Ponting at Edgbaston in 2005, another decision to insert the opposition that has never been lived down. Yet, if either of them had batted first and lost, no one would ever remember their decision at the toss. You will rarely if ever be criticised for choosing to bat. Batting is the default setting; bowling first is seen as the gamble. And remember, the side that bats first loses significantly more than it wins.
Test cricket is one of the greatest contests in sport, a brilliant, multi-faceted contest for mind and body. But it is also a game of numbers. If you can tilt the numbers slightly in your favour, get them working for you, not against you, plot a slightly more efficient path to victory, then you are always working slightly downhill rather toiling against the slope.
As I write this, Pakistan are about to go out and bowl for the fourth consecutive day of England's first innings in Abu Dhabi on a pitch that you could land light aircraft on. They have home advantage, have made the orthodox decision, played well, and yet there is only one team that can win the match from here, and it isn't them. If this is what home advantage and winning the toss looks like then they are welcome to it.
It is all but certain that if they had ended up batting second they would now be in a considerably better position. Reverse the first innings as they have happened and Pakistan would now be batting past an exhausted England side and about to put them under the pump for a difficult last three sessions. And in the alternative scenarios where one side or the other got a first innings lead, as we have seen, those work disproportionately in favour of the side batting second.
But, we all do it. We look at a pristine wicket, flat, hard and true, and batting seems the only option. It is written into our cricketing DNA. The evidence may suggest there is a small marginal gain in bowling. But small margins be damned. If the marginal gain erodes your credibility and authority, then that is probably not an exchange you are willing to make. There are tides you can't swim against.
Which brings us back to Alastair Cook and Misbah-ul-Haq, standing in Abu Dhabi in the baking heat. Both are men of considerable character; brave, implacable and preternaturally determined to win. Each has withstood the slings and arrows of captaining their country through some fairly outrageous fortunes. Each is ready to bat first without a second thought. Because while they are certainly brave, they are not stupid. And you would have to be really stupid to make the right decision.
And there of course you have the central problem of much decision-making in cricket. This pitch is slightly different to all the other pitches that there have ever been. And you don't know for certain how it is going to play, or how that will influence the balance of power in the match. There are those who would argue that this is why stats are useless, or at best very limited.
I would agree entirely that stats are never sufficient to make a decision. There is nuance and subtlety to weigh; the brain and eye have access to information that the laptop doesn't. The feel and instincts of coaches and players, the hard-wired learning from decades in the game, contains incredibly valuable information and will always be the mainstay of decision-making that must be flexible and fluid through changing match situations. But if we are honest, we must also accept that the sheer weight and tonnage of what we don't know about how cricket works would sink a battleship. To use stats and nothing else to make decisions would be incredibly foolish, and as far as I am aware no one ever has. But equally, to insist on making decisions on incomplete information, without ever reviewing the effectiveness of those decisions would seem almost equally perverse.
I'm not saying that everyone was wrong in Abu Dhabi. I'm not saying that Misbah should have bowled. The weight of opprobrium heaped on him doesn't bear thinking about. It's the sort of decision that ends captaincies. No, Misbah had only one option and he took it. But maybe, just maybe, one day there will come a time when it isn't such an obvious choice.
2010s 28.8
2000s 28.4
1990s 23.1
1980s 21.1
1970s 22.7
1960s 21.5
This is largely down to the decline in the draw. There have been more and more results in Tests and although the proportion of them that have gone the way of the visitors has shifted slightly in favour of the home team, this has resulted in a significant rise in away wins.
That said, there are other factors that suggest the balance of power is shifting slightly towards the home team. The gap between averages at home and averages away is growing, for example. So let's assume for now that the premise is true, and that home teams are increasingly dominant.
Holding and Ponting have suggested giving the toss to the visiting captain to prevent home teams stacking the conditions in their favour. I don't know whether this is a good idea or not. But there are three reasons that we should question whether it would achieve its aims.
Firstly, it assumes groundsmen can reliably bake certain characteristics into a pitch. In practice, pitch preparation seems to be an inexact science. I have stood before Test matches around the world and listened to groundsmen describe how the pitch is going to play, only to watch it do something completely different half an hour later.
It also presupposes that the interests of groundsman and home team are aligned, which is often not the case. In England for example, venues are heavily incentivised to maximise revenues from the Tests they host by ensuring five full days' play. So groundsmen, understandably, often pay less attention to the needs of the visiting circus than to the people who pay their salary for the other 51 weeks of the year.
Secondly, there is a law of unintended consequences in sporting rule changes that can often produce the opposite result to the one intended. If a home captain had control over the pitch, the framers of this law are assuming he would back away from tilting it in his favour. Is it not just as likely that he would go the other way and seek to produce a pitch so favourable that the toss was taken out of the equation? This after all is what MS Dhoni openly sought to do when England and Australia each last toured, produce pitches that turn big from ball one, and so take the toss out of the equation. Equally, you could imagine England or Australia producing genuine green-tops that would be as helpful to the quicks on day four as day one.
But lastly, and most importantly, it assumes that captains are able to use the toss to their advantage. This is not in any way proven. In fact the evidence suggests it just isn't the case.
At the time of writing, 1,048 Tests have been played since January 1990. During that period, the side that won the toss has lost slightly more (377) matches than it has won (374). Winning the toss in the modern era appears to give a side no advantage at all.
It wasn't always so. On uncovered pitches, batting first in almost all instances was a robustly successful strategy. If it rained during the match, the pitch would deteriorate, affecting the side batting second disproportionately. Until 1970, the side batting first in a Test won 36 per cent of matches, and lost 28 per cent.
But in the modern era, the advantage of winning the toss seems to have disappeared. This is, of course, stunningly counterintuitive. Test cricket is an asymmetric game. One team bats first, then the other. And the two teams' chances of winning are not equal. The team batting first has different requirements for victory to the team batting second, and the pitch changes over the course of the match, affecting the balance of power between bat and ball. Therefore, we would assume, teams that win the toss can choose the best conditions and so gain an advantage. But they don't. How can that possibly be?
Dropped catches and a sickening injury to Simon Jones didn't help Nasser Hussain after he chose to bowl in Brisbane in 2002 © Getty ImagesSometimes, a perfectly reasonable response to current circumstances becomes a habit, then a tradition, then an article of faith that outlives the circumstances that created it. We rarely question what we know to be self-evidently true. And so the bias towards batting first seems to have outlived the circumstances that created it by several decades.
"If you win the toss, nine times out of ten you should bat. On the tenth occasion you should think about bowling and then bat."
That was a very successful strategy to adopt for the first century of Test cricket. And one that is still the default setting for most captains. In the 700 Tests played since January 2000, nearly twice as many captains have batted first than have chosen to bowl. Is it still successful?
In a word, no. In that period, the side batting first has won 36 per cent of those Tests, the side bowling first 39 per cent. The bat-first bias at the toss would seem to be neutral at best, and probably counter-productive.
It is still hard to believe that captains aren't able to use the toss to their advantage. There are venues where the evidence is stark. Some pitches clearly favour the side batting first, some the side batting second. In the 40 Tests played in Lahore, the team batting first has won just three. Adelaide by contrast is a classic bat-first venue. It starts as a batsman's paradise, but by the fifth day can be very tricky to bat on, with considerable turn for the spinners. In the 74 Tests played at the ground the side batting first have won 35, the side batting second 19. Since 1990 averages in the first innings are 44.6, in the second 38.9, the third 30.1 and the fourth 27.1 and, as you would expect, in that period, 25 out of 26 captains have chosen to bat first, gaining a considerable advantage in doing so.
These are not isolated cases. Many pitches have similarly skewed characteristics. Galle and Old Trafford for example, both have similar records to Adelaide. Karachi is as bowl-first friendly as Lahore.
****
Captains' behaviour at the toss seems to be yet another example of received cricketing wisdom not concurring with the evidence. Where what teams do doesn't seem to maximise their chances of winning. Why is this the case?
Well, part of the story involves how our brains handle information. There has been a great deal of research into memory and perception, and the results are both surprising and illuminating when it comes to our decision-making in sport. For a start, our memories don't work as you might expect. They are not akin to a videotape; we don't record a series of events and then play them back as and when they are needed.
The disturbing truth is that our unaided recall is not very good. The human brain encodes less than 10 per cent of what we experience, the rest it simply makes up. Our minds construct a narrative around the coded memories we do have that fills in the gaps with a plausible story. Faced with a huge number of random or near random events (a cricket match, for instance) our brains pattern-spot, even when there is no pattern. Our minds look for those events that they can form into a pattern or story, and that becomes the meaning or lesson that we take away from the match. Even if the vast number of events that occurred didn't fit the pattern, we disproportionately remember the ones that did.
At their best then, our memories seem to work along the lines of Albert Camus's description of fiction, they are the lie through which we tell the truth. What we remember didn't actually happen, what we remember is a story that our brains have fabricated, but one that we hope contains the essential truth of what happened in a way that we can understand and retain.
Our fallible memories are only part of the reason captains and coaches behave the way they do. There is another, far more powerful reason to make the choices they make and one which is harder to argue against. For this we need to go back to Brisbane in 2002, and Nasser Hussain choosing to bowl.
"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
It was the first Test of the Ashes, an Australian team were at the peak of their powers and playing at home in 'Fortress Brisbane', the hardest ground in the world to win at as an away team. No visiting team had won in the last 26 Tests played at the 'Gabbattoir'. Hussain won the toss and chose to bowl, Australia were 364-2 by the close of play and went on to win comfortably.
It is no use looking back with hindsight and using that to determine whether a decision was right or wrong. I am sure that if Nasser had known that choosing to bowl first would bring a host of dropped chances, the loss of a bowler to injury and Australia piling up the first-innings runs, he would have chosen to have a look behind door B and strapped his pads on.
But he didn't know, and in evaluating a past decision, we shouldn't know either. We need to remain behind the veil of ignorance, aware of all the potential paths the match could have taken, but ignorant of the one that it did.
One way we can do that is to simulate the match. There are various models that allow us to simulate matches given the playing strengths of the two sides and give probabilities for the outcome. When we do this for that Brisbane Test, we get the following probabilities for England:
Decision Win Draw Lose
Bat First 4% 3% 93%
Bowl First 4% 10% 86%
Every batsman in Australia's top seven for that match finished his career averaging over 45 (three averaged 50-plus), none of the English players did, only two averaged 40. England had a decent bowling attack. Australia had Warne, McGrath and Gillespie with 1,000 wickets between them already.
England were a pretty good side, they'd won four, lost two of their previous 10 matches. But they were hopelessly outgunned, and in alien conditions. Steve Waugh, the Australian captain, was also going to bowl if he had won the toss. If he had done then Australia would almost certainly have won the match as well. Australia were almost certainly going to win regardless of who did what at the toss.
But none of that made any difference. Hussain's decision to bowl first was castigated by the public and press of both countries. Wisden described it as "one of the costliest decisions in Test history". One senior journalist wrote that the decision should prompt the England captain "to summon his faithful hound, light a last cigarette and load a single bullet into the revolver".
For Nasser in Brisbane, read Ricky Ponting at Edgbaston in 2005, another decision to insert the opposition that has never been lived down. Yet, if either of them had batted first and lost, no one would ever remember their decision at the toss. You will rarely if ever be criticised for choosing to bat. Batting is the default setting; bowling first is seen as the gamble. And remember, the side that bats first loses significantly more than it wins.
Test cricket is one of the greatest contests in sport, a brilliant, multi-faceted contest for mind and body. But it is also a game of numbers. If you can tilt the numbers slightly in your favour, get them working for you, not against you, plot a slightly more efficient path to victory, then you are always working slightly downhill rather toiling against the slope.
As I write this, Pakistan are about to go out and bowl for the fourth consecutive day of England's first innings in Abu Dhabi on a pitch that you could land light aircraft on. They have home advantage, have made the orthodox decision, played well, and yet there is only one team that can win the match from here, and it isn't them. If this is what home advantage and winning the toss looks like then they are welcome to it.
It is all but certain that if they had ended up batting second they would now be in a considerably better position. Reverse the first innings as they have happened and Pakistan would now be batting past an exhausted England side and about to put them under the pump for a difficult last three sessions. And in the alternative scenarios where one side or the other got a first innings lead, as we have seen, those work disproportionately in favour of the side batting second.
But, we all do it. We look at a pristine wicket, flat, hard and true, and batting seems the only option. It is written into our cricketing DNA. The evidence may suggest there is a small marginal gain in bowling. But small margins be damned. If the marginal gain erodes your credibility and authority, then that is probably not an exchange you are willing to make. There are tides you can't swim against.
Which brings us back to Alastair Cook and Misbah-ul-Haq, standing in Abu Dhabi in the baking heat. Both are men of considerable character; brave, implacable and preternaturally determined to win. Each has withstood the slings and arrows of captaining their country through some fairly outrageous fortunes. Each is ready to bat first without a second thought. Because while they are certainly brave, they are not stupid. And you would have to be really stupid to make the right decision.
And there of course you have the central problem of much decision-making in cricket. This pitch is slightly different to all the other pitches that there have ever been. And you don't know for certain how it is going to play, or how that will influence the balance of power in the match. There are those who would argue that this is why stats are useless, or at best very limited.
I would agree entirely that stats are never sufficient to make a decision. There is nuance and subtlety to weigh; the brain and eye have access to information that the laptop doesn't. The feel and instincts of coaches and players, the hard-wired learning from decades in the game, contains incredibly valuable information and will always be the mainstay of decision-making that must be flexible and fluid through changing match situations. But if we are honest, we must also accept that the sheer weight and tonnage of what we don't know about how cricket works would sink a battleship. To use stats and nothing else to make decisions would be incredibly foolish, and as far as I am aware no one ever has. But equally, to insist on making decisions on incomplete information, without ever reviewing the effectiveness of those decisions would seem almost equally perverse.
I'm not saying that everyone was wrong in Abu Dhabi. I'm not saying that Misbah should have bowled. The weight of opprobrium heaped on him doesn't bear thinking about. It's the sort of decision that ends captaincies. No, Misbah had only one option and he took it. But maybe, just maybe, one day there will come a time when it isn't such an obvious choice.
Monday 10 August 2015
Cricket - Is home advantage two extra players?
Tom Fordyce in The BBC
One of the wonders of England's 3-1 Ashes triumphthis summer is that it emerged from such carnage: that ghastly 5-0 Pomnishambles in the preceding series 18 months ago, the second whitewash Australia had inflicted in three Ashes series down under.
That itself followed a 3-0 win for England the summer before, part of a run that has seen them win four consecutive Ashes series at home for the first time since the 19th century.
To think Home and Away used to be so popular. Ashes cricket, supposedly the fiercest contest the sport can offer, is in danger of becoming dangerously predictable.
Playing at home? You'll probably win. Playing away? Good luck.
In the 14 years since Australia last won in England, only one of the eight Ashes series has been won by the touring side.
It is a significant twist in the longest running rivalry in international cricket. In the 14 years and seven series before that, more than half were won by the away team.
The long-term numbers back up that dramatic trend. Prior to 2002, according to Test Match Special statistician Andrew Samson, 117 Ashes Tests were won by the home team, 98 by the away team. That's a win/loss ratio, in games that saw a result, of 1.19.
Since 2002, 25 Ashes Tests have been won by the hosts and seven by the visitors. That's a win/loss ratio of 3.57.
A little of that reflects the decreasing number of draws as Test cricket has speeded up. Before 2002, draws accounted for 29% of Ashes contests; since then, only 18%.
Much more it reflects more serious concerns: the inability of players, particularly batsmen, to adapt their game to the different conditions overseas; the lack of time and opportunity today's short tours give them to even try; the increasing temptation to win an advantage before a ball has even been bowled by producing pitches designed to favour your own skills rather than an even contest.
"For me it is quite simple," says Graeme Swann, part of the only Ashes team in those 14 years to win an away series. "In England the wickets are getting slower so the batsmen are not being exposed to fast bouncy wickets. When they go to Australia it is a culture shock. They can't deal with these guys with raw pace on fast, bouncy wickets.
"Then, when you come to England and the ball still swings, even the visiting batsmen that play county cricket don't face the highly skilled swing bowling they do in Tests. Batsmen don't like the ball moving laterally through the air. It is bad enough when it is jagging about off the pitch.
"The Aussies come here and nick everything. We go there and get bumped out. That is it in a nutshell."
Modern tours, designed to maximise revenue rather than ease players in, are shorter than ever before. Test series rattle past with back-to-back matches rather than pausing for other contests to allow players to refine and practise technique.
This summer, Australia began with just two three-day matches, both against weakened Kent and Essex sides. Once the Tests began, a mere fortnight after their arrival, they then had only one more three-day match before the series was decided at Trent Bridge.
In that tour match against Derbyshire only five players who would make the team for the next Test at Edgbaston were picked, because the others - after back-to-back Tests in Cardiff and at Lord's, and with back-to-back Tests to come in Birmingham and Nottingham - needed rest and recovery.
In England's hammering in 2013-14 there was even less respite. There was only one other tour match once the Test series had started, a meaningless two-day tourist trip to Alice Springs to play a scratch side that included a 16-year-old, on a pitch that bore no resemblance to the ones where Mitchell Johnson and Ryan Harris were rattling them out in the Tests.
These are tours barely recognisable to the recent past. In the summer of 1989, when Australia won the Ashes in England to begin a run of 16 years without a series defeat on English soil, they played five three-day county games before the series began and another nine interspersed between the six Tests.
How much easier to pass an exam when you attend that many tutorials first.
Neither was that an unusually long tour. Australia's next Ashes tour in 1993 saw them arrive in May and leave in September. The first ball of the Test series was bowled on 3 June, and the last two and a half months later on 23 August.
The entire 2015 Test series can, even if The Oval Test bucks the summer's pattern and goes the full five days, last no more than seven weeks from start to scheduled final day. There are five Tests in this series rather than the six of 1989 and 1993. Yet this time the tourists rocked up in late June and will play their last day of first-class cricket with at least a week of August still to go.
It is less a learning process than a frantic cramming. And that's if you actually want to adapt techniques.
On this tour, Australia's batsmen have continued to play attacking shots even as conditions at Edgbaston and Trent Bridge demanded something entirely different. Neither is this a one-off. They were hammered 4-0 in spin-friendly conditions in India in 2013, and then 2-0 by Pakistan on dead wickets in UAE in 2014.
And they are not alone in failing to understand how to adapt for different surfaces. In the 13 Tests England have played on the hard, bouncy tracks of the Waca in Perth, they have lost nine and won one.
"It's not easy playing away but it's something we have to get better at," Cricket Australia CEO James Sutherland admitted after the defeat at Trent Bridge at the weekend. "We want to be the best cricket team in the world and to do that we have to be better at playing away."
Because this is not just an Ashes issue. Test cricket across the world has the same problem.
As the table indicates, Test cricket is becoming weighted in favour of home sides like never before.
"It is like when Australia play in India and vice-versa - that's very one-sided too," says former Australia fast bowler Glenn McGrath. "Batsmen learn to play in their own conditions and struggle to adapt.
"In Australia the wickets used to have their own character so you had to adapt. Now every wicket is the same, so the batsmen get used to playing on one type of wicket and aren't challenged by another type."
Sydney is no longer a spinner's paradise. The MCG uses drop-in pitches. Adelaide is increasingly primarily an Aussie Rules venue. The Gabba at Brisbane is flatter than ever before.
"As soon as they face another wicket they can't adapt," says McGrath. "But that is the difference between a good and great player: being able to adapt."
It is changing the dynamic within individual series too.
Eighty-three Test series have been completed since the start of this decade. Just over 50% (42 series) have ended in a whitewash, where one side has won every single match.
One of the wonders of England's 3-1 Ashes triumphthis summer is that it emerged from such carnage: that ghastly 5-0 Pomnishambles in the preceding series 18 months ago, the second whitewash Australia had inflicted in three Ashes series down under.
That itself followed a 3-0 win for England the summer before, part of a run that has seen them win four consecutive Ashes series at home for the first time since the 19th century.
To think Home and Away used to be so popular. Ashes cricket, supposedly the fiercest contest the sport can offer, is in danger of becoming dangerously predictable.
Playing at home? You'll probably win. Playing away? Good luck.
In the 14 years since Australia last won in England, only one of the eight Ashes series has been won by the touring side.
Recent Ashes series results | |
|---|---|
| England's home form | Australia's home form |
2015: England lead 3-1
|
2013-14: Australia won 5-0
|
2013: England won 3-0
|
2010-11: England won 3-1
|
2009: England won 2-1
|
2006-07: Australia won 5-0
|
2005: England won 2-1
|
2002-03: Australia won 4-1
|
2001: Australia won 4-1
|
1998-99: Australia won 3-1
|
The long-term numbers back up that dramatic trend. Prior to 2002, according to Test Match Special statistician Andrew Samson, 117 Ashes Tests were won by the home team, 98 by the away team. That's a win/loss ratio, in games that saw a result, of 1.19.
Since 2002, 25 Ashes Tests have been won by the hosts and seven by the visitors. That's a win/loss ratio of 3.57.
A little of that reflects the decreasing number of draws as Test cricket has speeded up. Before 2002, draws accounted for 29% of Ashes contests; since then, only 18%.
Much more it reflects more serious concerns: the inability of players, particularly batsmen, to adapt their game to the different conditions overseas; the lack of time and opportunity today's short tours give them to even try; the increasing temptation to win an advantage before a ball has even been bowled by producing pitches designed to favour your own skills rather than an even contest.
"For me it is quite simple," says Graeme Swann, part of the only Ashes team in those 14 years to win an away series. "In England the wickets are getting slower so the batsmen are not being exposed to fast bouncy wickets. When they go to Australia it is a culture shock. They can't deal with these guys with raw pace on fast, bouncy wickets.
"Then, when you come to England and the ball still swings, even the visiting batsmen that play county cricket don't face the highly skilled swing bowling they do in Tests. Batsmen don't like the ball moving laterally through the air. It is bad enough when it is jagging about off the pitch.
"The Aussies come here and nick everything. We go there and get bumped out. That is it in a nutshell."
Modern tours, designed to maximise revenue rather than ease players in, are shorter than ever before. Test series rattle past with back-to-back matches rather than pausing for other contests to allow players to refine and practise technique.
This summer, Australia began with just two three-day matches, both against weakened Kent and Essex sides. Once the Tests began, a mere fortnight after their arrival, they then had only one more three-day match before the series was decided at Trent Bridge.
England in home Test series | ||
|---|---|---|
| Opponent | Dates | Result |
Australia
|
July-August 2015
|
Won (lead 3-1)
|
New Zealand
|
May-June 2015
|
Drew 1-1
|
India
|
July-August 2014
|
Won 3-1
|
Sri Lanka
|
June 2014
|
Lost 1-0
|
Australia
|
July-August 2013
|
Won 3-0
|
New Zealand
|
May 2013
|
Won 2-0
|
In that tour match against Derbyshire only five players who would make the team for the next Test at Edgbaston were picked, because the others - after back-to-back Tests in Cardiff and at Lord's, and with back-to-back Tests to come in Birmingham and Nottingham - needed rest and recovery.
In England's hammering in 2013-14 there was even less respite. There was only one other tour match once the Test series had started, a meaningless two-day tourist trip to Alice Springs to play a scratch side that included a 16-year-old, on a pitch that bore no resemblance to the ones where Mitchell Johnson and Ryan Harris were rattling them out in the Tests.
These are tours barely recognisable to the recent past. In the summer of 1989, when Australia won the Ashes in England to begin a run of 16 years without a series defeat on English soil, they played five three-day county games before the series began and another nine interspersed between the six Tests.
How much easier to pass an exam when you attend that many tutorials first.
England in away Test series | ||
|---|---|---|
| Opponent | Dates | Result |
West Indies
|
April-May 2013
|
Drew 1-1
|
Australia
|
November 2013-January 2014
|
Lost 5-0
|
New Zealand
|
March 2013
|
Drew 0-0
|
India
|
November-December 2012
|
Won 2-1
|
Sri Lanka
|
March-April 2012
|
Drew 1-1
|
Pakistan (in UAE)
|
January-February 2012
|
Lost 3-0
|
Neither was that an unusually long tour. Australia's next Ashes tour in 1993 saw them arrive in May and leave in September. The first ball of the Test series was bowled on 3 June, and the last two and a half months later on 23 August.
The entire 2015 Test series can, even if The Oval Test bucks the summer's pattern and goes the full five days, last no more than seven weeks from start to scheduled final day. There are five Tests in this series rather than the six of 1989 and 1993. Yet this time the tourists rocked up in late June and will play their last day of first-class cricket with at least a week of August still to go.
It is less a learning process than a frantic cramming. And that's if you actually want to adapt techniques.
On this tour, Australia's batsmen have continued to play attacking shots even as conditions at Edgbaston and Trent Bridge demanded something entirely different. Neither is this a one-off. They were hammered 4-0 in spin-friendly conditions in India in 2013, and then 2-0 by Pakistan on dead wickets in UAE in 2014.
And they are not alone in failing to understand how to adapt for different surfaces. In the 13 Tests England have played on the hard, bouncy tracks of the Waca in Perth, they have lost nine and won one.
"It's not easy playing away but it's something we have to get better at," Cricket Australia CEO James Sutherland admitted after the defeat at Trent Bridge at the weekend. "We want to be the best cricket team in the world and to do that we have to be better at playing away."
Because this is not just an Ashes issue. Test cricket across the world has the same problem.
The increasing advantage of playing at home |
|---|
1980s: 87 home wins, 56 away, 122 draws, one tie, home win/loss ratio 1.55
|
1990s: 142 home wins, 80 away, 124 draws, ratio 1.77
|
2000s: 215 home wins, 134 away, 114 draws, ratio 1.6
|
2010s: 110 home wins, 61 away, 58 draws, ratio 1.8
|
Since start of 2013: 60 home wins, 22 away wins, 25 draws, ratio 2.72
|
As the table indicates, Test cricket is becoming weighted in favour of home sides like never before.
"It is like when Australia play in India and vice-versa - that's very one-sided too," says former Australia fast bowler Glenn McGrath. "Batsmen learn to play in their own conditions and struggle to adapt.
"In Australia the wickets used to have their own character so you had to adapt. Now every wicket is the same, so the batsmen get used to playing on one type of wicket and aren't challenged by another type."
Sydney is no longer a spinner's paradise. The MCG uses drop-in pitches. Adelaide is increasingly primarily an Aussie Rules venue. The Gabba at Brisbane is flatter than ever before.
"As soon as they face another wicket they can't adapt," says McGrath. "But that is the difference between a good and great player: being able to adapt."
It is changing the dynamic within individual series too.
Eighty-three Test series have been completed since the start of this decade. Just over 50% (42 series) have ended in a whitewash, where one side has won every single match.
In the decade from 1990 to 2000, only 12% of series ended in a whitewashes; in the 1980s, 7%.
This partly reflects the rise of the two-Test series. It is also a serious concern for the game.
England's next series comes against Pakistan in the UAE. On their last trip there in the winter of 2011/12 they were whitewashed 3-0, having that summer themselves whitewashed India 4-0.
Test cricket is about cut and thrust. It is at its best when each side, with their own idiosyncrasies, comes together on a surface that offers both the prospect of reward for application and accuracy.
When there is cut but no thrust, when the outcome feels inevitable, it is a weaker contest and a weaker sport. Who wants to watch a procession?
This partly reflects the rise of the two-Test series. It is also a serious concern for the game.
England's next series comes against Pakistan in the UAE. On their last trip there in the winter of 2011/12 they were whitewashed 3-0, having that summer themselves whitewashed India 4-0.
Test cricket is about cut and thrust. It is at its best when each side, with their own idiosyncrasies, comes together on a surface that offers both the prospect of reward for application and accuracy.
When there is cut but no thrust, when the outcome feels inevitable, it is a weaker contest and a weaker sport. Who wants to watch a procession?
Friday 8 August 2014
The Indian mythology of happy old age
Shiv Visvanathan in The Hindu
Indian culture seems too distant and fragile to sustain old age. A sense of tragedy haunts the future. One is forced to ask what is the use of the idea of India, of all our pride in our culture, when the old are left to die or live in indifference
One of the most hopeful sights one can see on Marina Beach, Chennai, is to watch groups of old people walking together, talking boisterously, comparing notes, showering each other with a barrage of anecdotes. Occasionally, one can see an old couple walking like a dignified pair, content with each other, as if their walk is a continuation of their love affair. There is dignity, a companionship and a beautiful everydayness to it. Parks and beaches are often scenes for the celebration of old age. I must confess that these scenes are public and reassuring. Yet, as one probes further, one discovers that this is a small slice of the reality of the old age in India. The HelpAge India report (2014) on old age abuse provides an altogether different picture. The statistics are frightening and the few interviews, deeply disturbing.
Based on a sample study of 1,200 people from six Tier I cities and six Tier II cities, the report suggests that old age is a frightening prospect, an ecology of violence where over half the elderly interviewed report to experiencing abuse within the family. Oddly, while the percentage of abuse has gone up, the report indicates that at least 41 per cent of those abused did not report it. Abuse, choked within and caged in silence festers like a sore. Fear and helplessness that there is no one else to depend upon and few to report to, adds to the penumbra of silence. While our myths and advertisements perpetuate the myth of happy old age, the data tells us the behaviour of our society is an insult to old age
Old age, a commodity
When cities are ranked in terms of the level of abuse, Bangalore tops among Tier I cities with the sample reporting 75 per cent of abuse. Among Tier II cities, Nagpur is highest with 85 per cent interviewed reporting abuse. What is interesting is that such abuse is not occasional but sustained with verbal abuse (41 per cent), disrespect (33 per cent), and neglect (29 per cent) emerging as the three most frequent types of abuse reported by the elderly. Despite their helplessness, the elderly are good sociologists, analysing the roots of their abuse to emotional dependence, economic dependence and the changing ethos of values. There is a sense that in a deep and fundamental way, we are no longer a caring society.
When cities are ranked in terms of the level of abuse, Bangalore tops among Tier I cities with the sample reporting 75 per cent of abuse. Among Tier II cities, Nagpur is highest with 85 per cent interviewed reporting abuse. What is interesting is that such abuse is not occasional but sustained with verbal abuse (41 per cent), disrespect (33 per cent), and neglect (29 per cent) emerging as the three most frequent types of abuse reported by the elderly. Despite their helplessness, the elderly are good sociologists, analysing the roots of their abuse to emotional dependence, economic dependence and the changing ethos of values. There is a sense that in a deep and fundamental way, we are no longer a caring society.
While the numbers speak loudly, the interviews, even if sparse and bald, capture the sociology of old age more graphically.
For many, old age is a space of helplessness, callousness and indifference. Despite being caught in the web of symbolic and physical violence, the old are still able to provide an ethnography of despair. They point out quietly that old age has become a commodity. The younger generation commodifies old age by seeing the old as sources of pension, property, income. The old are like the goose that must lay the golden eggs and move on. Waiting for the old to die seems an unnecessary inconvenience. Yet, when the old have nothing more to give, they are seen as dispensable. Keshav, a 65-year-old from Kolkata, complains that his wife and he are constantly abused because they do not earn. His wife cooks for the entire family and yet they have to plead for a fair share of the food. Worse, as the report notes tersely, “even requests for medicine or clothes are met with taunts of their impending deaths and termed as a ‘waste’ on them.” The political economy of our new old age becomes clearer in interviews. Old age is not a part of the ritual cycle, a natural process where the old retire with dignity, providing a richness of emotion and memory to the family. Today, when the elderly wither away as a commodity, a milch cow to be milked by greedy children, they become waste to be abandoned. One literally sees them as “useless eaters” to be denied food and medicines and to be eventually abandoned in the dust heap and suffer in silence and indifference. Many of the old reported that they went hungry to sleep.
Politics of abuse
What makes the report so devastating is that it is so baldly written. It’s a no-nonsense approach, its census of violence becomes even more devastating because of a sheer absence of sentimentality. It provides the facts and asks you to feel, feel angry or embarrassed. When parents complain that they have been reduced to being less than domestic servants, denied even their basic needs, one wonders what happened to the idea of India, our sense of a civilisation, the empty boast about our Indian-ness.
What makes the report so devastating is that it is so baldly written. It’s a no-nonsense approach, its census of violence becomes even more devastating because of a sheer absence of sentimentality. It provides the facts and asks you to feel, feel angry or embarrassed. When parents complain that they have been reduced to being less than domestic servants, denied even their basic needs, one wonders what happened to the idea of India, our sense of a civilisation, the empty boast about our Indian-ness.
The report shows that the vulnerability of old age is created out of the political economy of dependency. The old probably grew up expecting their children to nurture and protect them, sustain their sense of worth and dignity. What breaks them is the fact that their children see them as being useless, a burden, and yet what adds to the desperate poignancy is that they are not able to cut loose. The family, memory, emotion becomes a guise of dependency perpetuating the violence as the old feel there is nowhere to go and no alternative system which could sustain them. The extended family or the neighbourhood, the local politician or the policeman are of little help. To the vulnerability that abuse creates, one adds a sense of helplessness. Old age is now an iron cage from which there is no exit.
There is a touch of the new to this politics of abuse. The tyranny of the regime is enforced by the son and the daughter-in-law. The daughter-in-law is the new Hobbesian sovereign in these sociological anecdotes as the mother-in-law becomes a desiccated old creature, unrecognisable from the soap operas of old which glorified her power and authority. The son sides with the wife against the mother upturning one of the oldest norms of domestic politics. It is also clear that there is a generational change here. The new generation wants the old to give them property but then move on. They are not seen as part of the ritual cycles of domestic life. The old grammar has changed. Old age, once a sign of status, a rite of passage to dignity, is now redundant or pathological, a problem for policy and social work, not for the family which states its indifference ruthlessly.
The report can be read both as a sociology and a social policy. As sociology, the old themselves ponder on the distance between generations, the absence of ethics and memory that could have provided dignity to old age. As a teacher I often ask my students — a sensitive lot — to talk about their grandmothers, to give me details about stories they have heard or food cooked. Most of them seemed embarrassed, surprised with such intrusive questions; only one could talk of his grandmother’s pickles with a zest that summoned a whole sensorium. For most of them, grandparents have become occasional question marks, ritual burdens. Few have recollections of stories told, preferring the narratives on TV or the Internet. It is almost as if grandparents are like creatures out of Tussauds; features that can be ignored. I asked one student to describe the touch of her grandmother. She almost felt repulsed exclaiming, “God, she is so old and scaly.” An absence of memories and ethos of sharing disrupts the ecology of old age. Dignity has become a rare word as abuse becomes the sociological constant.
The report also adds that for the elderly, there is little knowledge of helplines or sources of appeal.
Shift in values
The report however raises a deeper question in a tacit way. One has to understand that ours was a civilisation where the old were honoured, where old age was a position of dignity and wisdom. Somehow with modernisation, consumerism, individualism, the values of old age are no longer part of our society, at least as reflected in the survey sample.
The report however raises a deeper question in a tacit way. One has to understand that ours was a civilisation where the old were honoured, where old age was a position of dignity and wisdom. Somehow with modernisation, consumerism, individualism, the values of old age are no longer part of our society, at least as reflected in the survey sample.
The question is does such a problem have to be solved civilisationally or is it merely an act of repair, a creation of social security to be effected by public policy? It is the erosion of values that disconcerts one to suddenly realise that your grandparents are not a refuge, a bundle of stories, a ganglion of memories, an appeal against parents but an appendage, economically useless and burdensome. The question is do we rethink the norms of old age, treat it as a commons of stability and wisdom, and change the values of our culture? The other alternative is to accept that old age is a problem and accept that new institutions of support outside the family have to be built. Social policy as a piece of plumbing and repair haunts the report. Culture seems too distant and fragile to sustain old age. A sense of tragedy haunts the future. One is forced to ask what is the use of the idea of India, of all our pride in our culture, when the old are left to die or live in indifference. As children, we used to laugh when we heard that the Japanese were buying land for old age homes in India. Maybe they had a better sense of the future than us.
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