You've heard the phrase: some things never change. Certainly that phrase never changes.

There is a stream, actually quite a broad river, of Christian thought that expresses a similar pessimism in that human nature is no better now than when the human race was created/evolved/dropped off by extra-terrestrials for reconnaissance purposes etc. (pick your own theory).

There is a cheerier counterview which suggests that teachings based on Jesus's life and example have actually helped nudge society towards a more generally compassionate and caring perspective than was exhibited in previous millennia.

Being something of a smiley emoji type of deceased cleric, I tend toward the latter view.

I believe that even if the opening statement might appear to be superficially true at any point in time, there are usually circumstances when even seemingly immovaeable objects are being edged down, or even up, the hill.

Recent issues in our own dear town rather bear out this paradox.

Firstly, Hadleigh Town Council's relaunched staffing committee includes pretty much the same line-up as its disbanded predecessor.

Cllr Carol Schleip, who went all prejudicial about the difficulties of employing ex-service personnel during a discussion on appointing a new town clerk, returns to the equalities fray apparently free to opine as she sees fit.

Cynics might say that this near-identikit committee is Mayor Maritime's way of showing his resolute butchness and unbendability - a little like, er, Matt Hancock during the 'Hands. Face. Botty' scandal. Maybe not such a good example, given the weekend's developments.

But the brouhaha (love the word brouhaha - sounds like an elongated tickling stick) surrounding Maritime's refusal to sanction an investigation into Ms Schleip's serious slip-up probably means that the new old committee will be on much better behaviour in future. Oh plus the fact that the Council has signed the Armed Forces Covenant. And indeed the small matter of the Equalities Act should other councillors choose to give vent to their particular personal prejudices.

Next, there has been a summer hailstorm's worth of Hadleigh planning applications being lodged with Babergh District Council.

The one that caught my eye was that from the Council itself for a convenience store and a batch of light industrial and workspace units along the A1071 outside of the town.

The majority response across the various Hadleigh-themed social media sites was the usual bitter brew of negativity and misplaced indignation.

My opinion is clear: as the number of new houses being built ramps up, what the town needs is more employment sites, so that folks don't have to commute to Ipswich or the various ghastly conurbations south of the River Stour.

This might make Generalissimo John Ward choke on his (ice cold dry, poured over ice) sherry as he casts his gaze Heavenward from the family hacienda, but I agree with him. It's all about jobs, jobs, jobs.

Thirdly, and in spite of my recent concerns about Hadleigh Co-op's unwise use of automated checkouts, it remains by far the better supermarket in the town, in my opinion.

Whilst I would usually deprecate the sweeping nature of the term used by a friend of mine about the 'other one' ('Moronson's'), the Co-op's customer service is far, far the superior of the two.

OK, Moronson's it is.

Now, I'm not saying that Moronson's staff are uniformly bad: indeed some of paragons of kindness and politeness. And any customer-facing role is bound to be challenging, not least during the last knockings of the pandemic. But the overall culture there is one where, quite frankly, the customer is rarely right and frequently an irrelevance.

Supervisors and checkout staff talk over waiting customers whilst at the same time fiddle-faddling with their loo rolls

What I presume is meant to be the store's management (mainly closely-shaven headed men wearing ill-fitting suits and ties that seem to have have been folded into shape by inattentive turtles) swagger around the aisles, expecting hard-pressed shoppers to get out of THEIR way.

Shelf stackers supplied with garlic and permanently averted gazes to ward away members of the public asking for directions for capers or super-strength bleach or whatever goes into a salade niçoise, but needing a pointer.

Sad to say that another chum who has repeatedly experienced the Moronson's anti-promise, found that recently it became so bad (a clearly stressed and an angry checkout person) that it was a matter of metaphorical flight or metaphorical fight.

Opting for the latter took her onto a conversation with one of the company's centralised customer team, presumably at their Bradford HQ. The complaints-wallah responded quickly (to their credit), but having supplied a detailed account of the affair, the lady in question received a bland affirmation about appropriate action being taken and future training needs identified, blah, blah, blah.

Having taken the pledge not to use the Co-op's automated checkouts as they will result in job losses, I might sadly be persuaded to do the opposite from now on in Moronson's for the same reason.

Let's hope that things do change there - and with no more brouhaha.