It’s a pretty straightforward situation—your passport is almost out of date and you need it renewed. Even an old hippy like me, with an aversion to bureaucracy, can get her head around that. The thing is that although a British citizen I have lived in the Netherlands for many years. It used to be possible to renew your passport through the British consulate in Amsterdam but not anymore. Now it is HM Passport Office in the UK and you already know that you are in trouble.
On top of that there were date crunches when I could not be without a passport, but the renewal was unlikely to be ready. I needed some advice in order to work out how to manage it.
You need them more than they need you
It did not take long to realise that your passport renewal is only of interest to you, no-one else is interested at all. The system is obviously creaking at the seams. If you get put off in your application, that’s just one less worry for them. There was not a moment when I felt like someone buying a service—indeed the over-riding attitude was that I was being granted a favour.
In fact, worse than that, at some subtle level I was made to feel that somehow, I was trying to buck the system. By needing answers to questions that did not fit neatly into the standard renewal pattern I was asking too much. Needless to say, any small variations that might exist are only there for the use of people living in the UK. If you’ve been reckless enough to leave, it’s obvious that you cannot expect to maintain the same rights as those who don’t.
Uneasily I recalled everything that I had read about the Windrush Generationand the heart-breaking stories of would-be asylum seekers holed up in the Jungle campnear Calais. If I felt treated in an unfriendly way how would be it be to be someone hoping to be given refuge in the UK?
You never get to talk to a real person
The thing is, you never get to talk to a living person. HM Passport Office was not interested in my particular situation, or specific needs. All I could do was to study the website over and over again looking for answers—at least it was better than the endless chain of voice messages and prompts when I tried to phone.
According to a to-call_research-studies.pdf”>study by Google, 61% of mobile users call a business when they’re in the purchase phase of the buying cycle. The majority of respondents would call instead of reaching out online because they’re looking to get a quick answer (59%) or talk to a real person (57%). Most serious of all—constant communication without direct human contact undermines empathy.
The whole process is slow and expensive
In the end I applied for my renewal online. It cost £105.86 including postage. The actual online process is simple and relatively easy to follow. There is just this uncomfortable feeling that if you get something wrong you will be forever doomed to chase around in lonely circles trying to fix it. It’s slow though. Once your renewal request is ‘approved’ it takes at least 6 weeks for the passport to be sent. It was longer for me because the summer was beginning.
Inevitably, I needed to purchase an Emergency Travel Document in order to travel during the time my passport was with HM Passport Office. There is no service by which you are issued with an official document that states that your passport is being renewed. Even though I was only travelling from Amsterdam to the south of France by car—so no need for identification at airports and so on—I still needed to pay an additional £114.00 for my Emergency Travel document.
There is zero flexibility
It was possible to purchase the Emergency Travel document in Amsterdam though. I filled in an application online and made an appointment to deliver documents. It was getting pretty close to my departure date and time was running out.
You can’t just enter the Consulate building. You ring at one door and then have to go around the back and enter through another—communicating through intercom as you go. Once inside you have to surrender your mobile phone and put it into a safe. Eventually you arrive at a small, stark waiting room where behind a glass and grill protective wall, one or two people appear to be working. By that stage I was so grateful to meet an actual human that I did not mind the wait. What I did mind was being told that after all, I would need to come back tomorrow in order to collect my ETD.
I am sad to say that I got very cross. Perhaps it was because I had felt so disrespected throughout the whole process, which had been a frustrating experience in alienation. After a few heated exchanges I managed to negotiate an agreement whereby I could collect my ETD at 15.00 that same afternoon.
When I arrived back at the consulate, I rang the door again and waited. A security guard appeared at the door and asked me to wait—outside. After some moments, he reappeared with my document, a receipt and a form for me to sign. He same down the steps into the street to give me the document and for me to sign. When I asked why we were doing this in the street, he said that officially the consulate was closed. It felt as if we were doing an illicit deal.
He asked me to return the ETD when I had finished with it because it was UK property. I have not returned it.
Premonitions of post-Brexit Britain
Perhaps it is fanciful, but all this seemed to be exacerbated by Brexit. I have never wanted to leave the EU and my resolution has only deepened as I watch with horror the incalculable mess that is being made of the UK withdrawal. For me, pretentiousness, arrogance and lack of concern for human beings and their ordinary lives are all hallmarks of the UK government’s approach to hauling the UK out of the EU. All of these were evident as I went through this every day, ordinary process. Form, appearance, adherence to some supposed standards of practice were all that mattered. My personal situation, my questions, my concerns were completely without merit in the process.