Jill Stephenson
Can I prove who I am?

The UK Border Agency is trying to protect us all. How comforting. The problem is that the legislation establishing its remit makes about as much sense as the Dangerous Dogs Act introduced by Mr Kenneth Baker, as he then was, in 1988.
     The UKBA requires universities to monitor student attendance – they do that anyway – and report to it absences by international students. It is not, however, only students who are monitored. Staff members who are not paid a regular salary, but rather receive one-off fees, are also in their sights. I discovered this recently when an administrator mentioned what would required of me before I could receive my fee for running a taught Master's (postgraduate) course at the University of Edinburgh during the last year.
     For 40 years, until my retirement in September 2009, I was employed in Scottish universities. The last 39 of these 40 years were spent in employment at the University of Edinburgh. I was on the university's books, and I received a salary. I sat on committees and was invited to go on leadership training courses. I had a staff number, and there were even people in very senior positions who knew who I was.
     Now, in order to receive my fee for work performed in this same institution, I have to take my passport into a university office so that my identity and bona fides can be verified. As a casual member of staff, I need to prove that I am entitled to work in the UK (indeed, that I am entitled to be here). I need to prove that I am who I say I am, although the people I am dealing with have known that perfectly well for years.
     This same procedure is required of all those from other universities who perform the role of external examiner here: 'Dear Professor X, please will you examine our honours courses – and please bring your passport with you when you come so that we can check that you are who you say you are, even though we know that you are'. It is not possible to do any of this remotely, with a scanned copy of the relevant pages of the passport: one must attend in person with one's passport, so that the photograph can be checked against the person – to show that '(a) Photographs are consistent with the appearance of potential employee; (b) Dates of birth listed are consistent with the appearance of potential employee'.
     The instructions for checking the individual's passport further include the following slightly quixotic remark: 'Copies of passports must include: (a) Outside Front cover (note: passports for nationals from some countries have the front cover on the back)'. They also include: 'All pages containing UK Government stamps or endorsements which allow the individual to do the type of work being offered'. I have scrutinised my passport closely and cannot find anywhere in it any indication that I have been allowed to do the kind of work that I have done for decades. Perhaps my whole working life has been illegal.
     Dealing with large numbers of casual staff and examiners – to say nothing of checking up on students – has imposed a massive burden on administrative staff, particularly. The UK Borders Agency – set up on a shoestring by a government that likes to get other institutions to pay for its requirements – is getting universities to do their work for them, without payment. Thus support staff's efforts are diverted into a great deal of, frankly, useless activity when they could be providing support for teaching, teaching staff and students.
     This is useless activity because the people who have so far been convicted of terrorist offences in Britain, or have blown themselves up in committing terrorist offences, have been natives. This is a textbook case of what happens when a government introduces a policy without thinking it through, and leaves implementation to the kind of people who have no grasp on reality and cannot work out what is, and what is not, a ridiculous way to proceed.

Jill Stephenson is former professor of modern German history at the University of Edinburgh