Scenario 3: The right to light.

Imagine that, just before you went off sick, your ‘office manager’ spent a lot of time one day emptying one of the big stationery cupboards by the wall while you exchanged quizzical looks with your colleagues, before she huffed and puffed and pushed it across the office to the other side, then refilled it. That’s the side of the office which is the only one with windows. In fact, it is a window, from floor to just above head height, and is your only source of natural light. She left the cupboard there, in the way, without asking anyone if it was okay. You later moaned to a colleague that it was blocking the light and your view of the (admittedly not very scenic) road and trees outside. He was similarly annoyed about it, but you went off sick soon after that and forgot about it. Six weeks later, you returned to find that, not only was cupboard number one still blocking the window, but now a second big cupboard had been moved next to it, leaving one end of the office very gloomy indeed. A third unit, of shelves this time, had been placed next to them, mercifully unfilled at this time and not obstructing too much light as it’s backless, but the threat was there. You discovered that your colleagues had been moaning amongst themselves about the windows being blocked, but no one had said anything to the two people who matter. (Having seen the way your manager shouted at a colleague who dared to ask about the office radio during the team meeting on your second day back, you are not surprised that they have been so timid.) There is now only six inches of blind visible above these cupboards. Astoundingly, the first morning that you go to pull up these blinds to at least let in the little light that’s available, your manager asks you not to, as the cords are apparently getting in the way of the cupboards. You suggest that the cords wouldn’t be in the way of the cupboards if the cupboards weren’t there. He asks if it’s worth you pulling up six inches of blind and you reply that you are trying to ‘maximise the natural light’. He scoffs, but you do it anyway and shut up, despite the fact that you are shaking with rage by this point.

At home, you do some research on the internet and discover, as you suspected, that there is UK legislation about natural light in offices. The five websites you look at all seem to suggest that it has been illegal since 1996 to obscure natural light. More specifically, it seems employers are obliged to ‘maximise available natural light’ and make sure that furniture is not placed in such a way that natural light is obscured. You cut and paste information from these websites into a document that you then e-mail to yourself at work, but haven’t yet plucked up the courage to confront your manager about it. So, what would you do?

(a) Nothing. Who wants to see trees, cars and the outside world anyway? I’m far too busy working to look out of the window. Anyway, I work in an underground bunker, lit only by flickering neon tubes. You should think yourself lucky.
(b) Nothing specific, except sit and make snidey comments like ‘it’s a bit gloomy in here today, isn’t it?’ You hope that one of your colleagues will mention the cupboards and tell yourself that, if they do, you will back them up, but you know deep down that no one ever will.
(c) Print out your brilliant document on ‘light law’ and leave it anonymously on your manager’s desk, highlighting the bit about ‘liability’ and prosecution by the Health & Safety Executive.
(d) Mention it for the first time at the next team meeting, producing your document at the same time, causing maximum embarrassment to your line manager and office manager and asking who wants to help you move the cupboards back to the other wall.
(e) Something else.

It’s all purely hypothetical, of course, but, in the interests of research, Chig is interested in hearing your opinions, especially if you have found yourself in anything similar to these outrageously made up situations. I thank you.


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