Mark Daniels: When Did You Last Reward Yourself?

One of my favourite pastimes, when I get the opportunity to be bored, is to trawl the AutoTrader website to see what sort of price old Ferraris are going for these days.

When I was eight-years-old I promised myself that one day I would have a Ferrari. "When I'm the next Alan Jones," I would tell myself as I fell asleep beneath a ceiling full of Ferrari posters, "I'll have one of those."

My uncle had a 308, an identical one to Tom Selleck's in Magnum which I would drool over each week, and I'd visit regularly just to have an excuse to lift the cover and run my hands over its lines.

The dream still lives with me today. When we decided to buy in to our pub my wife and I had great hopes. Our own business, if successfully run, might reward us with the ability to finally buy our own house. "You never know," she said to me with a winning smile and a flick of her blonde hair, "you might even be able to buy that sports car you've always wanted." Sports car? Pah! She never did understand.

Four years down the line the "sports car" remains on a poster and the chance of us getting a mortgage are slimmer than Middlesborough's hopes of avoiding relegation.

Most of us who run pubs do so with a pride and passion not seen elsewhere. We don't mind working the seven day weeks and the minimum twelve-hour days in order to keep our businesses alive, to ensure they are homely, welcoming places full of fun and vigour that people want to visit. We put up with the long hours, late nights and hard work because we want our businesses to be successful, but we want to be able to reward ourselves for all the hard work, too. Sadly, these days every penny disappears back in to keeping the places afloat and we hear dire stories every day of more and more pubs closing.

And there appears to be no respite.

My accountant showed me my figures the other day and I was quite surprised. Business has remained good with, considering I'm a tenant, a reasonably healthy margin. But I'm still losing money. I've cut back on staff, I've installed energy efficient light bulbs, I've switched off radiators in rooms that aren't being used - and yet the escalating costs (tax, stock, food, rent, electricity, oil... the list is endless) continue to erode the hard work and dedication put in not just by me, but the people around me, the staff, and even the customers who do their bit to help.

Business has remained stable, which in this climate I consider a success, but it hasn't increased to cover the rising underlying costs. And that scares me.

When a pub fails, it doesn't just affect the publican and his family. It's not even the bar staff, kitchen staff or cleaners that you only have to think about. It's the man who pops by every other week to sell you his glass-wash chemicals, or the chap from Walkers with his box of Cajun Squirrel crisps. Even the fourteen year old lad from up the street who gets a fiver for mowing the lawn during the summer gets affected. And the customers themselves, those who do still find pubs great places to visit.

The breweries and pubcos can't just sit back and relax either. Fewer pubs means lower income which means less lorries on the road which means fewer draymen can be employed. Less admin staff is needed. Not as many Business Development Managers (and therefore the leasing companies who provide their company cars) are needed. Even the chaps at the top whose bonuses (unless, like the banking industry, they reward themselves for losing money) will be eroded.

The list of people affected by the problems our industry face at the moment is vast, yet we appear to be doing little about it. The banking industry have been handed billions of pounds to save them. Jaguar-Land Rover, who are owned by an Indian company, have asked for financial help and LDV, owned by Russian company Gaz, have asked for a £30m loan.

In contrast we've been offered the chance to write a few letters to Alistair Darling to tell him we're a bit peeved.

Pete Robinson's blog on this site earlier this week hit the nail on the head. Nobody appears to be standing up for the publicans. Instead we appear to be plagued with infighting, bickering, apportioning blame on anybody but ourselves and people are only looking out for themselves. We can no longer afford to do that.

It's time to start working together - publicans, breweries, pub companies, trade suppliers - to save ourselves. I'm quite happy to stand up and do some of the shouting, but only by shouting together, in harmony, will we succeed. Because without the pubs there won't be the pub companies, there won't be the glass-wash manufacturers, and there won't be the tax in to Alistair Darling's coffers.

Perhaps we should get together, a group of publicans, senior industry figures, and Alistair himself (rather than just a bunch of letters) to sort the matter out. And when it's all over we can reward ourselves for our hard work and dedication.

Maybe a holiday. Or a new DVD. Or perhaps a new car. You can get a good condition Ferrari 308 for the same price as a new Nissan Micra these days.

Though, admittedly, it'd be pretty rubbish at the cash and carry run.