For some reason I am haunted by a vivid but
of course quite chimerical vision of the first meeting of the Economic Planning Board, which was addressed early this week by Mr. Herbert Morrison. I see them arrive—the leaders of industry in their great black cars, the pure economists shambling up—clesorientes but game—from the nearest bus-stop, one or two of the more advanced thinkers landing by helicopter in a nearby square. They take their places. They refrain, like Cabinet Ministers, from smoking. A subdued, a con- secrated light shines upon their bulging crania, their firm and techno- logical jaws. Here the tapping of a slide-rule, there the rustle of blue-prints, betrays the painful yet devoted expectancy in which they wait for guidance. Soon it is being given to them. . . . It is im- possible, Mr. Morrison tells them, to plan in a void. . . . AU good staffs must work as a team. . . . Short-term planning and long- term planning are closely linked. . . . We must know where we are today, and be satisfied about it before we pass on to long-term thinking. . . . We are faced with several pressing problems which require our attention at once. . . . The long-term plan will also be of the greatest importance. . . .
It is at this point that the vision blurs, becomes mossy at the edges, begins to dissolve. As the historic gathering breaks up, and the giant intellects, the saviours of their country, file out into the urgent, purposeful yet somehow meaningless roar of the London traffic, I cannot read clearly the expressions on their faces. They
just look rather blank, and then they disappear. STRIX.
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