Today is the first day at work for the newly elected MEPs in Brussels. The TaxPayers’ Alliance’s Dr Lee Rotherham has written a handy A to Z of Brussels as a guide to the newby MEPs of some of the pitfalls and peculiarities of the EU’s institutions…
A is for Acupuncture. MEPs receive public funding for the more exotic forms of medical treatment, including massages and feng shui. Other options include “medical gymnastics”, traction, mud baths, hydromassage, mild electric shock, ionisation, radar, short-wave treatment, infra-red rays, and irrigation. We assume the treatment is voluntary.
B is for Buildings. The annual cost of EU institutions renting their buildings comes to €449 million. The actual value of the property owned, or on long lease with an option to purchase, is €5.8 billion. That is nearly six Buckingham Palaces.
The European Parliament buildings alone cost €32 million to clean and maintain.
C is for Carbon Footprint. Recent news from Brussels is that senior management at the European Parliament building have approached a major consultancy firm and asked it to spruce up its green credentials. Cynics already suggest that the only real result beyond the massaging of the figures will be simply to switch off the air conditioning during the Summer Recess, and allowing staff to fry while MEPs are on holiday.
D is for Dental Plan. Our favourite medical grant available to MEPs and leading Eurocrats remains the Glass Eye Allowance. However, a new close second is the dental plan. This contains what can only be described as a Gold Tooth Grant. Would-be MEP pirates can receive €185.92 for each tooth to have a gold crown or a gold inlay.
E is for Everyman. Never let it be said that the Eurocracy foists rules on others that it is afraid of meting out to itself. The marvellous proof of this comes in the Manual of Standard Building Standards, which spells out the quality controls that the Commission has to employ in its own buildings. For instance, “the composition of walls, ceilings and other reflective surfaces must be such that the time difference between the arrival of incident sound and reflected sound is less than 0.02 seconds.”
It’s not without fun and games though. Some space is reserved for “music rooms, dance studios, religious meeting places, billiard rooms, recreation rooms.”
F is for Fitness. The European Parliament hosts a gym, studio classes, two squash courts, and a sauna, and caters for beauty therapy (vital for wooing the voters, and the stagiaires). There’s also a sunbed. Public money subsidises it.
Overisje hosts the Commission’s five brick tennis courts, one astroturf tennis court, an indoor gym, a football pitch, a minigolf course, and four pétanque courts.
G is for Goons. Such a large portfolio of property needs to be protected from unsavouries such as squatters or French farmers with bleating trebuchets. These uniformed security personnel are the very same guardians of democracy who were caught having bought a handful of machine guns and sniper rifles, complete with silencers and telescopic sights.
The bank in the main concourse of the European Parliament was held up by an armed robber in February.
H is for Ham, Cheese and Evil Cress Baguettes. The refreshment departments of the European Commission lie shrouded in mystery to the outsider. Mere rumour and report emerge, such as recently over the score of celebrated coffee machines reserved for the top echelons of the staff, found to be 17,000 per cent over the legal limit for nickel. Tasty.
I is Ikea. The EU has a hefty annual budget purely for its furniture. We calculate a combined annual total of around €21 million spent on EU swivel chairs.
J is for MEPs’ Journies. These, of course, are still subsidised. “The lump sum travel allowance is designed to cover the costs of the entire journey (including, inter alia, ticket reservation fees, luggage charges, hotel expenses, meals and taxi fares),” explains the guide. There is no mention of these tickets having to be first class, so the old trousering of change from cheaper tickets can still go on. Viva el tren de gravy!
K is for Kiddies. Family-orientated Eurocrats get a very good deal out of the system. First, there are the crèches and nurseries. These are very heavily subsidized, costing €37 million in 2009 (80% from the taxpayer). “Garderies aérées interinstitutionnelles” also exist to look after children during their school breaks if one parent is a busy bureaucrat. Given the reputation of Belgium as the child abduction capital of Europe, perhaps this resource is an appropriate precaution. €242 million also went on private secondary schools for employees’ children in 2007.
L is for Linguists. The Court of Auditors calculated that in 2003 the total cost of interpretation for most of the institutions was around €163 million. A sixth of interpreters’ time was wasted by the Commission cancelling meetings at the last minute. €18 million was being spent on paying ‘terps to hang around drinking coffee in case someone decided on the spur of the moment to have a meeting.
M is for Military. Many people are satisfied with constant reassurances that the EU does not have any military intent or capabilities. Yet the EU spends €10.5 million a year on allowances for seconded national military experts and their civilian counterparts, even though the NATO Headquarters is a bus ride down the road at Mons.
N is for Nurse, which is just one of the jobs available in the EU institutions. Others recently advertised include receptionists, satellite imagery analysts, experts in contagious diseases, press officers, handymen, ship monitors, assistant developer of solutions for drawing up statistical reports in Universe, assistant developer of ‘Client/Server’ solutions at multiple and/or Web level, and pharmacovigilance administrators.
O is for Office Supplies. The annual blu tack, post-its and staples bill for non-Commission Eurocrats comes to €3.6 million. This figure excludes MEPs’ offices who obviously have their reams of constituency paperwork to deal with.
P is for Pensions. EU officials, like many civil servants, get generous pensions. They pay €350 million a year out of their wages. However, this is a fraction of the outgoing annual costs - €1,086 million. €22 million of this is targeted at “allowances for staff assigned non-active status, retired in the interests of the service or dismissed”, or as we might call it, the ‘Walking Disasters and Whistleblowers Fund’. Another €4.6 million goes in pension payments to former European Commissioners.
Q is for Quarantine. Should disaster strike and the MEP find themselves overcome by some horrible contagion while on a fact-finding expedition somewhere sunny, the taxpayer steps in. Death leads to a grant of up to €250,000, and total disability €375,000. The policy matures at age 60 (or on an earlier death) for a free payment of €15,338.75. This compares with British soldiers serving overseas who have had to pay for their insurance themselves.
Handily, there appears to be a Poison Centre run by the Commission (Extension 52222) to help prevent claims emerging from the ambitions of underlings.
R is for the Retired. The EU budget funds the European Parliament Former Members Association. The costs run at €130,000 a year to allow the formerly superannuated to stay in touch and feel as if they are contributing.
S is for Software. Man cannot live by paper alone. He needs Microsoft and an e mail system, preferably with a powerful delete system. The total EU computer bill comes to €331 million every year.
T is for Tax. EU employees pay €577 million a year in taxes, which is a pointer to the wages on offer. There are 16 pay grades at the Commission, with annual pay ranging from €27,600 to €192,000. On top of that, there is a 16% expat allowance, a household allowance, a dependant child allowance, an educational allowance and a pre-school allowance.
U is for United Nations Convention against Corruption, an agreement that the EU has recently signed in its own right. Yet fraud remains as much part of the legendary hidden flavour of Brussels as any ferocious picketing Gascon bird netter. One interim Director at the Commission is busy sacking staff while under formal fraud investigation. Two successive internal auditors were fired after reporting fraud at the Committee of the Regions, despite investigations confirming their findings.
V is for Vino Collapso. Money is put aside for “staff contacts” to help the staff socialize. This comes to €8.4 million of funds. It is not all cheese and champers, however. These grants include “subsidies to staff clubs, sports associations, cultural societies.” Additionally, Article 302 (€1 million) provides for representation and entertainment expenses for the staff around the EP President. This includes gifts and medals for long service.
These funds are not to be confused with money intended for official receptions, however. The European Court of Justice alone for instance gets €200,000 for official wine and nibbles events.
W is for Wheels. The total annual car bill for these institutions is €7.4 million. This, though, includes money spent on “fleets of bicycles” apparently sanctioned by the European Parliament administration, though clearly well hidden away. Who, after all, would want to turn up to a soiree in a rickshaw?
X is for X Ray. Eurocrats are covered by the Joint Sickness Insurance Scheme of the European Communities, which covers 80% of most medical expenses. Staff also receive accident insurance and insurance against occupational diseases.
Y is for Brussels Wants You. Happen to know which year was dedicated to Creativity and Innovation within the so-called European Year? Understand the definition of Ricardian Equivalence? Follow how UNIX-like operating systems represent peripherials and I/O devices? Girlie swot. Apply to the Commission today.
Z is for Zut Alors, the expression of wonderment expressed by grateful constituents on being bribed with a gizzit. These include freebie chocolates; pens; children's hats, gloves and scarves; shoe polishing kits; stickers; books; pins; baseball caps; super-sized brollies, and T shirts - practically enough for students to live off. For the oppressed workforce, there is also the “rubroid plastic 'frustration' ball.” “If properly aimed could take your eye out,” an insider relates. MEPs’ staff beware.
