Mark Daniels: Conscripted bar staff

In 1960, compulsory sign up for National Service was abolished, just a year before my Dad turned eighteen and meaning that, unlike his older brother, he didn't have to do a two year stretch at Her Majesty's pleasure in the form of serving in one of the armed services.

Since then, many have lamented the passing of such an obligation. Some of the old boys who sit around my bar at lunch times are quite convinced that if everyone was forced to spend two years under the watchful, disciplined eye of a shouty Sergeant Major, our youngsters would have a lot more respect for the world around them today.

I am inclined to agree with them, but conscription is unlikely to return no matter how good an idea it might seem to some; it did, however, get me thinking: perhaps we should conscript bar staff.

I love working in the pub trade, but one thing that I have enjoyed more than anything during my time at the helm of the good ship The Tharp Arms is watching how my staff, male and female, blossom as they learn how to deal with the people around them.

I've rarely taken on anybody with experience, preferring to train them up in the way I want them to work in my pub. I have the luxury of a small business and therefore the cushion of time to get an inexperienced new employee up to speed. But once they've been taught the rudimentary basics of pulling a pint, changing a barrel and entering the prices in to the till correctly, there's not much else I can teach them and it's more fun to step back and watch them deal with customers.

Without question, even the meekest employees have developed full characters quickly after being put on the bar and made to deal with a thronging public, all desperate for another pint. Understandably, the job isn't for everybody, but what they've all developed - even the ones who haven't stuck around - is a greater understanding of what real people in real life actually get up to, and what a diverse range of points of view and political or religious beliefs are out there.

I'm not just talking about young bucks here, fresh-faced school or college leavers who've just turned eighteen and are desperate to earn a few quid: "You've ruined my wife," one customer once wailed at me shortly after his spouse of five years took up a part-time position with me. "She was quiet as a mouse and never argued back until she started working here!"

Another, older member of staff who worked for me for two years enjoyed herself so much that she went on to take on her own pub - one of those there dreaded tied tenancies, no less. She's still there, still enjoying it, and she's got a much sharper wit today than I ever remember her having.

You could argue that anybody working in a service environment, dealing with members of the public all day long, could develop their character in similar ways. But it's not like a pub. Behind a bar, you hear tales you wouldn't ordinarily hear elsewhere. Above our bar is a sign that reads: "what you say here, what you see here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here." It's a mantra we all stick to, but a member of bar staff has to be able to understand when to be discreet, when to pretend to not have heard something. They've got to be able to empathise when needed, console, cajole - in some cases! - and even, on occasion, offer opinion or advice. They're often a shoulder to cry on, too.

Above all, they have to learn diplomacy, and that's something you're not necessarily going to learn just sitting at a supermarket till.

So I think we should bring back a form of the National Service: we should encourage our young and not-so-young to spend just six or twelve months working in a bar because they have to deal with such a diverse range of the community, different ages and different faiths, different social classes and different levels of drunken behaviour!

That way, they might go on to have a better understanding of what lies ahead of them in life, the differences in individuals that make up our society - and how silly they might look when they go out binge drinking themselves. It might give them a better sense of respect, not just for those around them but for themselves, too.

I've got to do it all again now. This weekend saw Barmaid Molly finish after more than a year working almost full time for me. She's gone on to explore a career with horses and we wish her all the best; this weekend, a new member of the bar team joins us.

One thing I can guarantee you: it's going to be fun watching them learn!