Only read this if you really, truly, absolutely have NOTHING better to do with your time

So, I thought I might share a thought or two on the construction of my monthly pay slip. Here in France, we are tremendously proud that we still have a social contract to speak of. This antediluvian notion has long since passed into history in New Zealand where - even after the financial shennanigans of recent years - there are still elements who cleave to the view that it's important to people's character development that they be tossed in the deep end and left to flounder (or founder, if you'd prefer not to be mistaken for a fish as you quietly drown).

Here, however, Rousseau's spirit looms large, which makes deconstruction of the monthly pay slip a truly fascinating exercise. So, here we go ...

... and go, and go, and go. Because there are 20 line items on my pay slip (21 if you count the one that actually tells me how much I have earned). Eight of these describe contributions that my employer makes. I know now, for instance, that employers make mandatory contributions to the funds that pay family benefit (which New Zealand cleverly did away with decades ago, consistent with the story we tell ourselves that ours is a great country in which to raise kids), compensation for accidents (which National is currently attempting, also rather cleverly, to do away with), and pensions to old people (for the present we still have these, although I'm sure there are those who are of the view that any old person who didn't fight in a war should have to make a bigger effort to stand on their own feet).

But here, employers also contribute to something called 'autonomous solidarity'. While the French are intellectually nimble enough to entertain the possibility of being simultaneously autonomous and in a state of solidarity with others, no one here seems to know what 'autonomous solidarity' actually is, although there is firm agreement that It Is A Good Thing. Which is excellent, because it is mentioned twice in my pay slip. It seems to come in one of two forms: either with a 'platform' or without one. This seems sensible to me. Clearly, today is a day when autonomous solidarity would be best enjoyed with a platform, because the temperature will hit 30 degrees and shade will be at a premium. There is the rare day, however, when a platform could safely be dispensed with.

There is also something called 'Ircantec'. This takes not two but four forms: 'Ircantec TR A (employer)', 'Ircantec TR A (employee)', 'Ircantec TR B (employer)' and 'Ircantec TR B' (employee). I have established that this refers to a 'supplementary pension fund' that benefits 1.7 million pensioners. You will enjoy learning that 'the IRCANTEC applies a call rate of 125% so the actual contribution is 5.625% while only 4.5% generate rights'. I certainly did.

I know that in the spirit of autonomous solidarity I should not be all that interested in the 'rights' bit, but I did wonder. Sadly, I am unable to establish what they amount to, although I have found out that they are administered by the Deposit and Consignments Office. This racily titled public entity first employed women in 1911, and I know this because I have just trawled through what is almost certainly the most staggeringly dull Wikipedia entry of all time.

Likewise, this is possibly the most staggeringly dull posting I've done since we left. Accordingly, I'm going to stop now, and go out to sit under the platform where I shall gaze at the mountains, and autonomously engage in an act of solidarity with a cool, crisp rose from Provence ...