A Christmas Story

I am sitting in London's oldest restaurant, Rules, a bustling place where the aroma of roasts mingle with the colours of red velvet, rich brown wood, lead glass lamps and Christmas decorations.

“Did you know that Rules is 210 years old this year?" I hear a man’s voice next to me.

I glance to my right in the direction of the voice and find only an empty seat.

"Young man,” I hear the man from nowhere again. “There were times when, as a poor child I stood out there with my nose pressed against the window, peering in. Fortunately, later I made good money and was able to come and eat here quite often.They have even named a room after me," he ended with a chuckle.

"Where are you?” I ask, feeling a little ill at ease.

"Next to you."

"I don't see anybody."

"That's because I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"What?"

“I am the Ghost of Charles Dickens. I am the man who brought the words ‘merry’ and ‘Christmas’ together in my book A Christmas Carol. Have you ever read it?”

"I have seen it in the theatre."

Silence.

"Tonight my wife and I actually saw Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat in the Adelphi Theatre close by after which we came over here for dinner. She's just quickly gone to the Ladies," I tell the Ghost.

"I was wondering why you were alone. Christmas is a time for getting together, for sharing and giving."

"Yes, Mr Dickens, but unfortunately there are also many Christmas grumblers these days who contend that it makes sense to say that Christmas does not make sense, that it has become too commercial - just a Clickmas."

“Clickmas?”

“A Clickmas of purchases over the Internet," I whisper when I notice a lady staring at me as if I am mad and apparently talking to myself.

"I am not aware of Clickmas but I do know that gifts should be reciprocal."

"Yes," I reply. “But where reciprocity becomes difficult, such as with small children, we have created a fictional character - Father Christmas. In a way when children one day learn that Father Christmas does not exist it is also a lesson for them to think in terms of reciprocity."

"I suppose you are right young man but now please tell me what does the world look like over this Christmas period?"

"We are in an economic recession. I was in Dubai the other day…”

"Dubai?”

“It's a place in Arabia with thriving construction. And yet even there the economy is pinching. There are now two new entries on the list of endangered species: Dubai’s national animal, the bulldozer, and Dubai’s national bird, the crane."

"I do not understand that."

Obviously ghosts lack a spirit of humour.

“In a way it all relates to Pavlov's dog."

"Pavlov?"

"Yes. Ivan Pavlov won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine a century ago with his experiments on dogs,” I whisper. “He prompted dogs to drool at the sounds of bells which they associated with food. Economic life is driven by people’s expectations. Therefore many governments, including Britain’s, these days believe that companies and people will react like Pavlov's dogs precisely in line with predetermined expectations when given financial stimulus. As a political Christmas present the British government this year cut taxes and promised money in order to create a kind of spending drool."

"It sounds to me as if your government here is, in the end, like my character Ebenezer Scrooge, generous and kind.”

"Not really Mister Dickens. The crisis resulted from excessive private debt and government is now trying to solve that by raising excessive government debt – which will, one day, have to be paid back by today's teenagers. The state is giving now but stealing from the future. And British subjects are not Pavlov's dogs. In spite of all the money pumped into the economy those banks, companies and people do just exactly what they want."

"So there is an ominous Ghost of Christmas in the Future?”

“Exactly, Mister Dickens, but then the future also lies in the past. Maybe the way out of the Christmas of the Present, this Christmas of Recession, would be one of creative destruction by entrepreneurs. Henry Ford, for example, built model-T Ford cars when people expected faster horse carriages."

"So, creative destruction also creates new expectations…”

"Precisely. Destruction in the winter leads to growth in spring. I think the government here is just keeping alive a bunch of things that should actually be allowed to disappear."

"Harsh words, young man. At least the people are receiving something, even if it sounds more like a loan than a gift."

I notice my wife returning to our table.

"May I introduce you to my wife …”

"Sorry young man, but I must go. I enjoyed our talk."

“I was honoured, Mister Dickens.”

My wife sits down and asks: "Have you been speaking to somebody?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe I just entered into the spirit of Christmas.”

Then I clearly hear these last words from the empty chair next to me:”Young man, to you and your wife a very merry Christmas. As Tiny Tim observed, God bless us everyone!"