Further to our last post, if the police are looking for better ways to spend the money they are currently spending on meaningless slogans, we have a suggestion.

It was fascinating to note how police were called to a circus in Belarus which defrauded its customers. Advertising promised a show that included black bears, monkeys, crocodiles – note the plural – and “orcs”. What the customers got was a poor display of poodles, a crocodile – singular – and drunk jugglers who kept dropping their props.

It could be argued that the customers had no right to expect that the advertisement was literally accurate – after all, it ought to be a clue when orcs are promised: they do not exist outside the pages of J R R Tolkien. Yet there is a serious question here: at what point does failure to provide what was contracted become fraud?

The rule of thumb must be that breach of contract is fraud when it is clear that one of the parties never had any serious intention of honouring the contract. In practice, this is very difficult to prove – especially since, in most cases, the courts are involved only long after the event.

In most jurisdictions, breach of contract, even where it is almost certainly deliberate, is a civil matter. Proving it might involve a great deal of litigation. By the time it is established, the wronged party’s chances of obtaining full compensation are fairly remote. Con men know how to keep moving.

The involvement of the police at an early stage would therefore be very helpful in many cases. This does not mean carting people off to jail as soon as a complaint is made. The police should be very cautious – perhaps more cautious than they are at present – when it comes to slapping on the handcuffs.

All that is suggested here is that the police should be asking questions more often. The fact that they may have to justify their business practices to the police might keep some people honest. Also, having police statements as evidence would help civil court judges sort genuine victims from the merely litigious. A pattern of complaints would enable the police to identify those who require more detailed investigation.

Some businesses might object to the prospect of greater contact with the police. In police states or where the police are corrupt – often the same thing – more police intrusion is the last thing business wants! Yet, contrary to media stereotype, most businessmen are instinctively law-abiding, and businesses are more likely to be victims of crime than perpetrators. Despite that, and despite the taxes we pay, we usually get a poor service from law enforcement. Shoplifting, vandalism, and criminal trespass are rarely taken seriously by the authorities. In most places, we have a right to demand better value for money from our investment in public protection.

In business, a good advertising slogan serves a definite purpose. Constant repetition of a short, catchy phrase fixes awareness of a given product in the mind of the consumer in a crowded market. The best slogans can be very effective at that, but most make little impact, and none of them serve any other function. They do not in themselves persuade the customer to buy. Nor should they in themselves be mistaken for a marketing strategy.

The words “Because You’re Worth It” may be lodged in your contributor’s mind, but he is not going to buy any L’Oreal feminine beauty products as a result. Changing it to “Because We’re Worth It” will not involve the consumer more in the company’s philosophy – which is how a charlatan of a consultant sold the change to L’Oreal, no doubt in return for a massive fee.

So even in the private sector, where they can have a useful role, the limitations of slogans, mottos, and straplines must be recognised.

In the public sector, they can serve no purpose whatsoever, other than to irritate. Someone in the process of being burgled is not going to telephone Police Force A rather than Police Force B because the former has a more memorable slogan on its patrol cars.

The Plain English Campaign are right to complain that these slogans are, at best, meaningless. At worst, they are positively insulting: in the case of some police forces, the words “To Serve and Protect” on a police car must have a bitter irony about them, especially to some minority communities.

The defence that such slogans cost little or no public money is a downright lie. They are often a matter of obsession in the public sector, the subject of intense debate in endless, pointless meetings – this is the voice of first hand experience speaking. The charlatan consultants are almost invariably brought in and come up with a suggestion that could easily have been made in the first place by an amateur, but which commands respect simply because a huge fee is paid for it.

Implementation is even more expensive, but the full costs are easily hidden by spreading them between budgets.

The slogan may be just part of an expensive “corporate image” makeover – equally unnecessary in the public sector, but beloved by politicians because it gives the superficial appearance of Change without the effort of delivering it.

If only they put the same time and money into actually improving public services.