Two interesting snippets this morning: Christine Lagarde, the Minister of the Economy, apparently handed in her resignation on Wednesday, but Nicolas Sarkozy refused it. According to a short despatch in Le Monde, he told her she could go after the local elections in March. Mme Lagarde is said to be utterly fed-up with the President’s “contradictions” - for example promising off-the-cuff to feed public money into Arcelor-Mittal’s steel works at Lagrange which is threatened with closure and his scarcely veiled attempt to get Daniel Bouton, president of SocGen, to leave. I would guess her anger is partly because Sarkozy is using the State to interfere in private companies far more than she (and others) believes he should, and partly because he is interfering too much personally with her job, making decisions that affect her without consultation and taking the words out of her mouth, as it were.

The other piece is the legal action Sarkozy is taking against the web-site of the Nouvel Observateur, a monthly magazine. The web-site published a story that eight days before his marriage to Carla Bruni, Sarkozy sent a text message to his divorced wife Cecilia saying: “If you come back, I’ll cancel everything.” Two things - firstly as we all know, the French President is untouchable by the law while in office, yet apparently he can still issue writs. You can’t hit me but I can hit you. Hmmmm. Second thing I wonder what he means by “everything”. “J’annule tout” - does that include his presidency?

In which case there must be many French people wishing Cecilia would return. There is a growing feeling, reflected on the radio this morning, that things are falling apart. I think most of that is press hype, but it is feeding off a real feeling of disillusion amongst a growing number of people. Yesterday a woman interviewed said “We didn’t elect him so he could enjoy himself, but to get France back on its feet.” It is true that at the moment there’s a lot of the former and not much sign of the latter. Yesterday the government caved in remarkably weakly to the taxi-drivers, who had been on strike for only two non-consecutive days. Their proposed reform, part of Attali’s 306 recommendations to make France more competitive, is binned. Tomorrow expect the “no-smoking in public places” law to be watered down because cigarette sellers are complaining their sales are down! People should be rejoicing. And today, most important, the Plan for the banlieues: word is that it is as woolly as its many predecessors. That really is tragic - I have slight sympathy for taxi-drivers, less for cigarette sellers but a huge amount for the people condemned to remain in those tower-block estates which surround so many French towns.

It is a remarkable piece of so-called democracy. Two and a half years ago debate raged throughout France as to whether or not to accept the European Constitution. the issue dominated the written press, there were television debates, the President answered questions live on TV and most importantly the web came into its own and “ordinary” individuals such as Etienne Chouard influenced thousands with his careful arguments posted on his site. Heavily influenced in particular by the web-debate, the result, as everyone knows, was the rejection of the Constitution. This time round not only is there no public debate, but even the French parliament passed the Treaty on the nod - the main debate was last night, almost unbelievably between 9.00 p.m. and 2.00 a.m. this morning. The vote was this afternoon. Hot-foot, the Senate will debate it this evening and vote tomorrow morning. People in Britain sometimes complain that British parliament is a mere tool of government, but at least there the Treaty is being debated over ten days.

It is extraordinary that politicians say they want the European people to feel involved, committed even - and then they pull a stroke like that.

One of the wisest things David Goodhart, the editor of Prospect, taught me was never to write about hot news: when everything’s bubbling all you can do is repeat what everyone else is saying, and usually that turns out to be wrong. He’s quite right and that is my reason for, until now, laying off the SocGen trader Jérôme Kerviel. But now at last I’ve found something which adds depth to the story.

I know next to nothing about banking, and even less about investment banking - the wonderfully astute Tom Freke of LoanStar refuses to reply to my emails, so I can’t call on his take. Instead I just want to point out a piece of the jigsaw supplied by this week’s Economist. When the story broke my instinct told me that one guy cannot lose that amount of money unperceived and that Kerviel couldn’t be the terrible lone fraudster headline-writers and his boss were far too readily calling him. When the examining magistrates (including the excellent Renaud Van Ruymbeke) decided that Kerviel should not be charged for fraud but for the lesser offences of abuse of trust, breaching computer security and falsifying documents, that seemed to me a major step in the right direction. Now the Economist adds to the malaise by telling us very simply about the internal cops working for Société Générale who should have cottoned on to Kerviel long ago: “the bank’s annual report for 2006 devotes 26 reassuring pages to its risk-management practices; more than 2,000 staff worked in the function that year and more bodies were added in 2007. Yet none of them stopped Jérôme Kerviel.” 2,000 people to watch how many traders? One longs to know what they were doing, and did they find and prevent lots of other abuses which are not publicised? To justify that many well-paid technicians they must have. But they either didn’t find or they colluded with M. Kerviel. Nor are the French blind about finance: as the Economist points out, “France’s financiers have helped develop the very markets the political elite profess to deplore. French financial innovation is considered world-class. In the 1980’s the Société Genérale was a pioneer in the development of sophisticated equity derivatives, based on the complex mathematics in which the elite French education excels. It drew on a steady stream of brainy graduates from the grandes écoles….”

The common cry now from hacks and M. Sarkozy is regulation – everything must be regulated. But it sounds as if it already is: if 2,000 specially trained in-house controllers working round the clock can’t find a Kerviel, how many does it take? Ah, but this one was exceptionally bright! “When challenged,” said Jean-Pierre Mustier, head of SocGen’s investment-banking, “he was clever enough to say that he’d made a mistake.” Wow! Now that really is clever! No wonder those 2,000 brainy controllers never suspected anything!

A few months ago I wrote in this blog about the extreme shortage of doctors in rural France and junior doctors’ general disinterest in working out here. That provoked an interesting series of comments from a young French doctor who, believing that rural France has no back-up medical facilities, wanted to know more about the free housing etc rural mayors are offering.  Until now I haven’t been able to answer her questions, but on Saturday I talked to my GP. He agrees the situation in rural France is frankly terrible and rapidy getting owrse, but only as far as front-line GP’s are concerned – medical back-up exists. Mayors of small towns are offering inducements to halt the slide into ghost towns. These include a help buying the practice (interest-free loans), free housing, someone to clean the surgery, free school canteen, stuff like that. But the main inducement, and this is where we delve into the arcane world of French administration, mayors can offer all sorts of deals on income tax and professional charges whereby the incoming doctor is exempt for three years and can thus accumulate a considerable sum.

But even this kind of deal fails to tempt most young French doctors, who, as my correspondent said, want the facilities of a larger town: good theatre, concerts, things I admit we don’t have close by (although there are compensations: last night I was treated to a private screening of “Atonement” – that is I had the cinema to myself. I asked the young woman who is manageress, front-of-house and projectionist (and not a glorified DVD player either, she handles a proper 35mm projector with reel changes) if that happens often. She smiled sadly and replied much too often). But if rural France doesn’t tempt the French it tempts other Europeans. My GP quoted two pretty major local towns (population 501 and 636) each with a Rumanian doctor. “They’re very nice, and not bad doctors,” he conceded, “but their French isn’t up to it. I’ve been present when a Rumanian doctor asked a patient which ear was troubling him – his notes said “fibrillation auriculaire”. I had to point out it was the patient’s heart, not his ears that was the problem.”

My doc reckons they’ll stay for the three years of their tax exemption and then, like Spanish doctors before them, go back home wealthy, or to another small town offering a further three years tax-free. It’s no solution, he says, but at least these GP’s coming from abroad are willing to work hard – French doctors have for years been practising what Nicolas Sarkozy now preaches: Earn more by working more. Paid per patient, they more they treat the richer they are. But apparently the money doesn’t count that much for the young French – it’s time off that’s important. “They want their evenings and weekends. The death of the French health service is the feminisation of the profession,” my doc continues, sounding more and more like an old reactionary, although he can’t be more than 35. He says 60% of medical students and young doctors are women: first of all they want long periods off work to have a family and then regular hours to watch them growing up. The very arguments put forward in the bastions of British maleness in the 1970’s and ’80’s. I don’t know whether they have been resolved. At one time many British women doctors were happy to share a practise with another woman so they each could work part time, but sooner or later someone has to cover weekends and nights.

The other solution is to get used, as the British have done, to foreign doctors. The contact may not be as good, but one advantage is that coming from poorer countries they perhaps won’t tolerate the absurd and expensive molly-coddling French patients have got used to. “Fibrillation auriculaire? Heart flutter? Nothing to worry about dear chap. You’re still alive and that’s what matters: if you’re breathing you can write a cheque. But about your hearing: we must fix that so you make it out for the right amount.”

Possibly a ray of hope for my roof. Christine Albanel, the Minister of Culture has just announced a surtax on four-star hotels – each person staying in a so-called luxury hotel will be charged an extra 2 euro a night. In theory those 2 euro will go towards putting a new roof on my house.

Just after New Year, if you remember, it rained particularly heavily. When I got home after a couple of nights away I found rain-water had come right through the top floor of the house (having passed through the roof first, you understand) into my bedroom and the front living room. Carpets, a chest of drawers, clothes were soaked. Upstairs in my study it was considerably worse, since many books, magazines and papers had been deluged. Having been empty for few days the house was, of course, cold and I had to light fires in all the rooms to dry things out – since it was still raining the house smelled of damp carpets for over a week.

I have often priced re-roofing the house – but it’s fiercely expensive. Periodically men in Mercedes turn up and pace around under the eaves pointing airily upwards and saying as well as the slates I must replace all the voliges (the thick wooden planks lining the roof), replace several of the beams, joists and whatnot. Then just as airily they hand me a five-figure quote. Others say that’s not necessary, just replace the slates (have new ones shipped in from Scotland, they say) – but I worry that’s just putting a new skin on a rotten skeleton. Once an architect from the Monuments Historiques concluded his visit by saying, straight-faced: “Monsieur King, even if you have a completely new roof, voliges and all, it will still leak. It is in the nature of a roof to leak.” When I asked if I could touch the Monuments Historiques for a couple of grand to repair the roof, it was his turn to assume I was joking: “Ah, l’humour anglais!”, he laughed, wiping his eyes. “You think the Monuments Historiques has money!” That set him off again “Oh that’s the best one I’ve heard for a long time.”

So maybe Christine Albanel’s plan is just what I need. Her people have calculated that each year there are enough nuitées (what a wonderful word) in posh hotels for her surtax of 2€ to generate 50 million euro a year. That should satisfy the greediest roofer, but of course it has to be shared out amongst the other 43,232 other buildings listed by the Monuments Hysteriques. It works out at just over a thousand euro for each house. That’s the trouble.

The tragic part of this story is that M. Eschlimann, who dreamed up the idea of taxing the sleeping to pay for the crumbling, originally suggested a much lower surtax, but on every hotel’s nuitées (why does that word sound so naughty?). He suggested 0.13€ per night which would raise not 50 million but 170 million. It was rejected – but why? Mme Albanel’s logic is that a 2€ surtax will not be felt amongst those paying on average, she says, 200€ a night. That’s 1%. I don’t know what the average ordinary hotel bill is but recently I’ve been paying 50€ minimum in the provinces: 1% of that is 50 centimes. M. Eschlimann suggested a mere 13 centimes. And it raises more than three times as much. I do sometimes wonder what is wrong with French (higher) education: one of France’s best-qualified architects of historic buildings says that roofs will always leak, and a bunch of enarques at the Ministry of Culture believe raising 50 million is preferable to raising 170 million (in a country where “les caisses sont vides”). I have the impression common sense is not on the syllabus (although of course the very phrase “common sense” has no exact equivalent in French). Another element of common sense missing from this affair: you might think the Ministry of Culture would discuss their plans with other ministries concerned, such as the Ministry of Finance. But no - and that particular ministry was furious when they heard (in the press) of the proposed surtax. It has its own, rather different plans for France’s hotels and will almost certainly squash the Albanel initiative. So my roof will continue to deteriorate.

France has an incredibly rich patrimoine of historic buildings, but fully 78% are in a terrible state and are in need of massive investment. There was talk of closing Amiens cathedral, for example, because it is potentially dangerous to the public. Is that possible? There is more and more talk in hallowed circles of demolishing churches – only recently considered sacrosanct. On my desk is a photograph of a bull-dozer in the middle of a roofless church, smashing its way through the nave. There is something offensive, barbarian about it. But several thousand communes are realising they cannot afford to keep up their churches (churches are owned by the state and it is up to the local mayor to maintain them). As more and more wage-earners leave France profonde, rural communes dwindle and only the elderly remain, so local rates cannot be raised to encompass expensive restoration. But there is no equivalent of the National Trust, a private organisation dedicated to the upkeep of old buildings, paid for by members and tourists, which, with English Heritage, is responsible for the healthy state of Britain’s old stones. And as far as I know nobody has thought of converting churches into dwelling spaces to make their restoration rentable. Strangely that might be considered more sacrilegious than knocking them down.

Re-assuring news for readers of my piece about Rachida Dati’s new bill on keeping certain long-term prisoners locked up for the rest of their days: a legal committee within the Senate has just thrown out the offending paragraphs (which you will remember were added at the last minute as amendments and voted through at 2.30 a.m. to an almost deserted chamber). According to one member of the committee, the version voted “didn’t stand up” (ne tenait debout). I find it staggering that paid representatives vote through laws which lawyers then say “don’t stand up”. Anyway, said a journalist in Les Echos, the text would have been in contradiction with the European Convention on Human Rights – so would have been thrown out by Europe anyway. What caused the fuss, not surprisingly, was the retroactive nature of the proposed law, which would have affected all those already sentenced to long stretches.

The law itself highlights one of the weaknesses of our society. As Les Echos says: “the text was promised this summer by Nicolas Sarkozy following two big news stories and examined en procédure d’urgence.” In other words rushed through as a crowd-pleaser. We inevitably criticise Americans when Washington fails to ban guns after a shooting incident, but our alternative of rushing round trying to pass half-baked laws after every gruesome but not necessarily deep-rooted crime is not much better.

On another level note the phrase “the text was promised by Nicolas Sarkozy”. Are you keeping a list of all those promises unkept? Look on the bright side - watch the final of the Australian open with that truly inspirational Frenchman Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. What’s the betting that Sarkozy flies on from India to Melbourne to be photographed with the Mohammed Ali look-alike? With France’s second bank in tatters, and nobody apparently knowing what to do with the world’s No.1 bank frauder, Sarkozy needs to be seen with France’s 5th-ranked (sic!) tennis-player to boost his image. Sarkozy used to fancy himself as a tennis man - cue photo-opportunity………..

Two other thoughts about the last blog. Listening to these very clever people going round and round in circles with their fixed a priori, I understood completely why a Russian, who wanted to reinvent not France but just dance in the early years of the last century, listening to a young Frenchman who was doubtlessly going on and on in exactly the same way as his compatriots 100 years later, cut him short and simply said “Etonne-moi.” Turned and went away. Short, sharp, practical. Get on with it. The voluble young man was so shocked he left the room shaking. But wisely he thought about the advice, and followed it.
Second supplementary reflection: one speaker launching the afternoon debate, a young man called Philippe Hayat, brought a breath of fresh air to the seminar. 18 months ago he decided that young people at school needed to understand (and therefore lose their fear and hatred for) the word and concept “entrepreneur”. He didn’t wait for some civil servant to process his request to visit schools, he simply started visiting them, giving talks. It is a success, and surprise surprise government departments are queueing up to give his association money, to expand, to have branches throughout France. His association is called 100,000 entrepreneurs. There was a guy who 1) identified the problem (get rid of the taboo on enterprise) 2) did something about to correct it. Did it himself, without waiting. Not only that, but M. Hayat spoke clearly, a well-thought-out, concise piece. Both it and he were ignored for the rest of the afternoon. No one addressed any questions to him, no one took up any of his points, but carried on with their previous spats about ideology. After an hour, perhaps realising no one was interested, M. Hayat left.

Earlier this week in Paris a seminar organised by the French bureau of Aspen Institute to discuss how to “reinvent France”. 40 potential movers and shakers invited to share their reflections on what is fast becoming France’s favourite topic. In the event, however, trying to reinvent France was about as easy as trying to reinvent the wheel – both have served admirably in the past, both are solid and well-loved creations resisting any attempt to change them. Both may have been surpassed in certain fields, but both are still necessary.

We discussed whether or not France was in decline and if so why? No surprises there: brakes on employment; too many laws, many of which don’t work; too many taboo subjects (competition, capitalism, success, failure – and anything in between); the young are penalised, there is a growing generational rift; equality of opportunity does not exist; equality tout court does not exist; too much ideology, refusal to look reality in the face; the French impossibility of working with each other.

Others said that if France is in decline, then so are many other countries, we’re not worse than the other. Oh yes we are, look at the amount of poverty in France, especially amongst those who are in work. Ah, but the world is changing faster than during the Industrial Revolution and it’s tough keeping up….

Was there was some other country’s model to copy and if so whose? The Anglo-saxon model was (of course) generally decried as insufferably inhuman. Why? Because it encourages part-time jobs, multiple jobs, badly paid jobs and insecure jobs, all of which, most agreed, are unacceptable. Well, if you look at the common denominator in that list of unacceptables, jobs, they might be quite useful in France just now. Ah yes we need jobs, but not just any job. Ah, mon ami, that is where your problem lies: you are not hungry enough!

But more interestingly the opposite of the hated Anglo-Saxon model, Colbertian state intervention, was equally unacceptable. One particularly bold man, a youngish, bullish investment banker, argued coherently with endless rapid-fire (and thus unverifiable) statistics that the old French model was still the best. But he took a battering from others present who clearly thought he was way beyond his sell-by date. The net result was that too much energy was spent dismissing other people’s ideas and far too little actively constructing something useful.

The surprises came from a woman working in the Ministry of Economics who said quite rightly that the French should look at what jobs have not been created, especially part-time jobs for students. People have not worked hard enough at where they want to go. The disappointment principally from the two veteran politicians present – a former Italian minister of the economy and Frits Bolkestein, former European Commissioner. Both trotted out tired old formulae to which nobody listened. There was a fascinating moment when the only black person who bothered to turn up (Eric Dogo, an entrepreneur. Two beurs had been invited, one came for the lunch but didn’t stay for any of the discussions, the other I didn’t see at all) talked briefly and passionately about the inequality of opportunity in French society. The fascinating part was not what he said but watching the 38 other people: all looked at their feet, watches, cell-phones, shuffled papers. Actors could not have played both “embarrassment” and “lack of concern” better. Since the two other beurs invited didn’t turn up, it’s fair to say that he was the only non-white there, there were far less than 20 women, and the great majority of the men were over 50 – and (having made a film about them last year I can tell them just by the way they sit and look round the room) perhaps a surplus of enarques. They excel at recycling well-worn ideas (some of which are well-worn because they are good) – although a few, like Elizabeth Lulin, are innovating and doing much more exciting things.

For me the highlight of the day happened during lunch. An unknown face appeared at my table and I heard him saying how much he enjoyed (or perhaps appreciated) “ton blog”. I looked over my should to see who he was talking to. When I realised he meant me I genuinely couldn’t believe it, although there were two or three editors of Les Echos around who might perhaps read Prospect. I thanked him, but was so surprised I couldn’t think of a gracious way of asking who he was. His name-badge meant something (a 16-syllable Dutch-sounding name) and I stammered out some absurd banality. Someone (the bullish anti-UK banker) said something about Versac. Versac? - now there’s a model worth emulating – one of the very best French blogs, which has already and continues to reinvent a good part of France. I assumed the man must be a guest writer on Versac, but no this was the man himself. He thinks it’s worth crossing the crowded restaurant floor to introduce himself to me?

Yesterday a new magazine hit the news-stands in France – well it didn’t actually make it as far as my local news-agent down here but I am sure it made it to the big towns. Its name is XXI and the main interest to this blog is that its editorial policy is to treat subjects in depth, with long articles and without advertising – so very different from what is called here the zapping médiatique généralisé. In other words readers of Prospect Magazine will surely recognise a kindred spirit. Indeed XXI is unashamedly modelled on Atlantic Monthly and the New Yorker – in many ways like Prospect. Had people in France heard of Prospect, doubtless it would have been added to XXI’s progenitors.

There are of course differences. As reported in Rue 89 XXI comes out only four times a year, runs to 200 pages and costs 15€. It includes photo-documentaries and strip cartoons. The first print-run is 40,000 copies – from memory higher than Prospect’s.

The first issue carries fully 67 pages on Russia – different aspects including tracing the career of Anna Politkovskaya and looking at Russian capitalism. Apparently most articles run to about 12 pages of single-spaced Word, or about 7,000 words – where again from memory Prospect’s long articles run to a little less although some, like my article on the fight against corruption in France, ran to about 8,500.

Although I doubt it will be easy to find copies of XXI in the UK (any more than you can find Prospect in France) diligent readers of Prospect need not feel out of the loop as far as coverage of France is concerned. I notice from Rue 89’s synopsis of the first issue that there are articles on OGM crops, the French phenomenon of civil disobedience and Michel Onfray – all three of which have been covered in Prospect’s France Profonde column. Don’t forget, you read it first in Prospect.

Rue 89 also tells us that another in depth magazine is planned to appear in France this summer. There is even a third, slightly different but very well produced serious quarterly magazine called, irrationally, Mook, which appeared just before Christmas and will also be quarterly. I shall be writing about Mook in more detail later. Mook is published by one of France’s best-known editors, Henry Dougier who founded Autrement, a series of books which looks at France and the rest of the world autrement. The aim of his new brain-child aim is to look at aspects of France which are working well (not the obvious things but off-radar stuff) and aims to bring out an English edition later this year (not an English translation, but its own, independent edition) which may involve your dedicated correspondent: I go to Paris on Monday for discussions.

The parliamentary members of Sarkozy’s UMP party were delighted last week by Tony Blair’s relaxed manner of speaking, and by his sense of humour – both of which, many noted, contrast strongly with their own master’s constantly jabbing forefinger and aggressive neck thrusts worthy of a bad actor on The Bill. Blair caused great merriment when he admitted that until he left 10 Downing Street he had never used a cell-phone – the French President is obsessed with showing everyone that his phone is busy all the time. Even during moments of great solemnity, such as signing contracts with King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, Sarkozy was far more interested in making sure photographers saw him checking his messages. So feeble was Sarkozy’s reply to Blair (he seemed to think, for example, that the Battle of Austerlitz was against the English) that Valérie Pécresse, Sarkozy’s usually archi-loyal Minister of Higher Education, is quoted as saying: “Whoever wrote Sarko’s speech is going to get the chop, compared to Blair’s it was such rubbish.” I would imagine for allowing herself to be overheard saying that she’s another one who, come the re-shuffle, is up for the chop.