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Older employees who are disturbed by younger, more boisterous colleagues in the workplace are not victims of age harassment, an employment tribunal has ruled.
Employees in their 20s and 30s may annoy more mature co-workers by chatting, socialising and looking at their phones but they are not breaking workplace equality rules, the tribunal said.
The ruling came in the case of Catherine Ritchie, an administrator in her late 60s who took her bosses to an employment tribunal for grievances including the noisy fun her younger co-workers were having while she was trying to get on with her job.
Ritchie said she found it difficult to watch “extreme time wasting and low productivity” from “noisy and boisterous” younger colleagues and was left with a pounding headache and a hoarse voice from having to talk loudly to make herself heard.
The tribunal in Watford, Hertfordshire, heard that Ritchie was 66 when she began working for an electrical engineering company and was the oldest person there.
In its summary of the case, the tribunal said Ritchie found the office a very noisy environment and that this was distracting when she was trying to make calls.
It said: “She indicated that she found it unprofessional of colleagues to engage in personal conversations in the office, when they ought to be working. She referred to the fact that they were not paid to socialise and that she had difficulty in watching such time wasting and low productivity.”
She felt she was not respected when she asked for quiet and asked a manager if she could work from home but this was not allowed. Ritchie was told by one manager that she should concentrate on reaching her targets and not concern herself with what was going on around her.
The tribunal said what she experienced did not amount to harassment.
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It concluded: “The tribunal accepted that the claimant took her work seriously and wished to remain professional at all times, but they considered that her projection of this standard to all those with whom she worked was not reasonable and resulted in her having unreasonable feelings of indignation about their behaviour when she did not have justifiable reason to do so.
“The tribunal considered that the claimant’s perception of the noisy and disruptive behaviour as amounting to harassment was not reasonable.”
Heavy is the head that wears the crown but Lamine Yamal is willing to wear it. Willing? He wants to, so there he was on Saturday night conducting his own coronation. With the last touch of Barcelona’s first game of 2025-26, their new No 10 – the player handed a six-year contract and the shirt Ladislao Kubala, Luis Suárez, Diego Maradona, Rivaldo, Ronaldinho and Lionel Messi wore, the kid Spain coach Luis del la Fuente claimed was “touched by the wand of God”, the baby Messi bathed – scored against Real Mallorca.
It was his first goal as an adult; it was also exactly as you imagine it, Lamine Yamal scoring the Lamine Yamal goal that was Messi’s once. He had come in from the right and then, when the ball settled in the corner, went back out again. Where, stopping before the Son Moix stands, he lowered an invisible crown to his head, a statement of intent for this season and beyond.
An opening weekend that is not over yet – Elche play Betis on Monday night, Real Madrid face Osasuna on Tuesday – brought controversy despite the introduction of such vital changes to the refereeing structure as calling the officials by their first name and one surname not two, which meant José Luis Munuera got blamed in Mallorca instead of Munuera Montero. It brought victory for Rayo Vallecano, courtesy of comical errors from the Girona goalkeeper Paulo Gazzaniga, and for Getafe in Vigo where Christantus Uche went all original Ronaldo. It brought the capital’s other team to their knees, the new Atlético Madrid ending up like the old one, beaten 2-1 at Espanyol, whose coach Manolo González was once literally employed to park the bus and has never lost to Diego Simeone. And it brought old faces back, then defeated them both, promoted Real Oviedo losing at Villarreal and Levante at Alaves.
Above all, though, it brought three moments, three men. Because if there was a coronation in Son Moix on Saturday, a coming of age a month on from Lamine Yamal’s 18th birthday, the night after there was redemption at “the Cathedral” where Athletic Club’s Nico Williams was reconciled with the congregation. And the night before at the Estadio de la Ceramica there was, well, what would you call this? Some kind of perfection, perhaps? On Friday, aged 40, after 12 operations and 10 centimetres taken from his achilles, Santi Cazorla made his first appearance in primera for Oviedo, the club he always wanted to play for, the one he first joined at eight and rejoined at 38 on the minimum wage, finally taking them back to the first division 24 years later. And he did so against the team that made it all possible in the first place.
View image in fullscreen Lamine Yamal enjoys the acclaim and welcomes the pressure of emulating some of Barcelona’s greatest players. Photograph: Jose Breton/NurPhoto/Shutterstock
Some time in 2015 when he was in the midst of the injury that should have ended everything, skin repeatedly splitting open and infection seeping out, the operations endless and the days when he was ready to ditch it all countless, a part of his arm grafted on to his heel, a new tendon made with rolled-up hamstring, Cazorla was told to settle for being able to walk around his garden – and now he was. Thirty-thousand people were there to see it, all of them standing and applauding, some crying, most singing, as he went on to face Villarreal, where he played his first ever professional game, 22 years ago. Where he had played 333 more of them and where, he said, they had treated him “like their son”.
He had needed them to. Cazorla arrived at Villarreal as an 18-year-old in 2003, forced to leave home when Oviedo collapsed, relegated, dropping two tiers in one go, in debt, abandoned and on the verge of disappearing for ever. Just as the chance to make his debut might have come, a decade after he had arrived, it was taken away again. Villarreal came for him then, a shy, timid boy at the time. When Arsenal released him in 2018, assuming it was all over, they were there for him again, giving him place to train, to try to recover. Which, a stubborn so-and-so behind the smile, he did. He played 86 games and got another Spain call at 34.
There was just one thing left to do; the one thing he had always wanted to. So, having accepted the pain, ignored the advice to leave it, he returned to Oviedo on a mission: get them back to primera for the first time since 2001. It took two years, it took him scoring in the playoff semi-final and final too, but they made it. Where they returned gave it something extra: back among friends, at Cazorla’s other home, something healing about watching him heading on with 10 minutes left of a game that was already lost but for his club against one he helped make great. “This was very special,” Cazorla said.
View image in fullscreen Santi Cazorla soaks in the welcome from Oviedo and Villarreal fans before the former’s first game back in the top flight for 24 years. Photograph: Quality Sport Images/Getty Images
Which was more than Nico Williams could say two nights later when he came off the San Mamés pitch in the 82nd minute of an extraordinary game, an ovation accompanying him to the bench. “I don’t even know how to describe this feeling,” Athletic’s winger said. He had gone off, the cramp clawing at his calves, having given everything. Athletic were on course to defeat Sevilla 3-2 and Williams had provided two assists, both brilliant, won the penalty from which he scored the other and hit a post. After a summer in which he had appeared on the verge of leaving for Barcelona only to stay, signing a 10-year contract, and in which the mural featuring him and his brother had been vandalised, he had needed this.
There was something healing here too, especially in the moment he scored the penalty, his brother Iñaki, who is something like his father too, standing there on the penalty spot with the ball under his arm and his hands on his hips, wearing the look of a parent waiting for their son to get home. All around San Mamés they chanted Nico’s name, demanding that he take it, so Nico smoothed down his hair and headed across. Iñaki handed him the ball and kissed him. Nico scored, and all was well with the world. All that was missing was a break in the cloud, a biblical ray of sunshine and heavenly music, El Correo wrote. “There’s a reason I stayed,” Nico said.
Quick Guide La Liga results Show Alavés 2-1 Levante, Athletic Club 3-2 Sevilla, Celta Vigo 0-2 Getafe, Espanyol 2-1 Atlético Madrid, Girona 1-3 Rayo Vallecano, Mallorca 0-3 Barcelona, Valencia 1-1 Real Sociedad, Villarreal 2-0 Real Oviedo. Monday: Elche v Real Betis. Tuesday: Real Madrid v Osasuna Was this helpful? Thank you for your feedback.
There had been a reason to go, too. Lots of them in fact, but one stood out: to play with his international teammate and newfound best mate, his other “brother” – a younger one this time. The third man to mark the opening weekend, the kid who reached a European Championship final at 16, the youngest Clásico goalscorer in history, a leader before his time and set to mark a generation, already the best in the world at 17.
Which is a stupid thing to say. Not just stupid; irresponsible. Another young player loaded with pressure, not allowed to just enjoy it. Just leave him alone. Have you forgotten Ansu Fati? But, well, it is Lamine Yamal who says it, Lamine Yamal who embraces it. It is there in the things he says: in him publicly leaving Adrien Rabiot in checkmate. Saying the Ballon d’Or will come, promising to be back for the Champions League, turning to the camera and declaring himself unstoppable. In the cheek, the glint in his eye; yes, the cockiness. The Instagram and a controversial birthday party too, and the bling and things which people throw at him, but he doesn’t care, willing to bring the attention on himself, not hide. “For as long I win, they can’t say anything,” he said, and mostly he does because if it’s there in what he says, it’s there in what he does too.
And it is genuinely hard to think of anyone who has done this, anyone who does do this. By the time he got the goal on Saturday night, the game was already done. Mallorca had been two goals and two men down since the first half, two men sent off. Then Lamine Yamal evaded two players, three, four, and bent the ball into the net. El Mundo Deportivo called it his own personal show. It was, Eric García said, the same goal he scores in training every game; it was the same seen in so many games already: the goal that won last year’s title and a candidate for this season’s best already. You know what’s coming but you still can’t stop it.
View image in fullscreen Nico Williams had a turbulent summer, with a potential transfer to Barcelona, but showed he had re-established his relationship with Athletic supporters in the opening game at the weekend. Photograph: Ander Gillenea/AFP/Getty Images
He doesn’t always take the same route, not least because his ability with the outside of his boot allows him to turn outwards too to drop the ball on a teammates’ head. Here, he had completed more dribbles than anyone, taken more shots and made more chances. He took the free-kicks, too – that’s new. He took two minutes to find a way through everyone and just five more to provide a perfect assist for Raphinha to score, done with an ease that made it look as if he was messing about. It was even his shot that led to the second goal soon after, Antonio Raíllo crumpling to the floor when he blocked it with his head and still down when Lamine Yamal found Ferran Torres who thumped it into the net. It was also an outrageous run from the halfway line to the edge of the area that ended with Mateu Morey bringing him down and getting the first of two red cards.
Lamine Yamal had wanted a goal of his own. When it finally came he had just been confronted by Jan Salas. “As soon as that happened, I knew he would score,” García said, laughing at the inevitability of it all. Angering him isn’t a good idea, which is what Pep Guardiola used to say about that guy, yet another echo found. “I didn’t like comparing Messi to Maradona, but Messi didn’t make it easy; I don’t like comparing Lamine to Messi but Lamine doesn’t make it easy either,” Jorge Valdano said. On the opening day of the season, an adult now and ready to reign, Lamine Yamal did it his way again, putting the ball in the net and the crown on his head.
You asked, we answered. In this special episode, Pippa Crerar and Kiran Stacey sit down to chat through some of the questions you’ve sent to us.
Fancy another one? We’d love to hear from you. Our email address is [email protected]
In the summer of 1992, I was a 16-year-old who was watching his mother drink herself to death. I had a desperate need to find work and somewhere to stay, and so remaining in education didn’t seem like a possibility. I had two teachers who saw how I was struggling. They dreamed a future for me that I could never have imagined for myself. One evening they took me up to the degree show at the Glasgow School of Art, and there I came face to face with the paintings of Jenny Saville.
The power of that encounter has never left me. Those images were fierce and confrontational. A few months after the degree show, I lost my mother to her addiction. With the support of my teachers, I eventually finished school and went on to art school and built a career in design. Meanwhile, the GSA degree show formed a body of work that would lead to Jenny’s ascension into the Young British Artist movement – with her works appearing on the covers of Manic Street Preachers’ albums The Holy Bible and Journal for Plague Lovers – and help cement her reputation as one of the greatest British painters of any generation.
View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Compass, 2013. Photograph: Mike Bruce/© Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian
I have often returned to Jenny’s paintings as inspiration for my writing, especially when thinking about the body, the clarity of a child’s gaze, a mother’s vulnerability. Writing is my way of painting. I try to conjure pictures in the minds of my readers and surround them with a world that feels as vivid as any visual work. Jenny’s paintings contain many narratives; that of the image, loaded with emotion, tenderness, brutality, movement. But they also contain the narrative of their own making. You can read the journey a painter takes, following her decisions through every brushstroke. It is not unlike the sketching and building and drafting of a novel.
On the occasion of Jenny’s crowning retrospective at the National Portrait Gallery in London, I wanted to revisit what her paintings have meant to me. So, 33 years after that fateful summer in Glasgow, we spent the afternoon together in her studio in Oxford and finally had the chance to talk.
Douglas Stuart Looking back now, what do you think your 22-year-old self would think about this show at the National Portrait Gallery?
Jenny Saville Well, it’s exciting. My 20s were an incredible time. Before that, I had waitressing jobs alongside being at art school. But during the summer between my third and fourth year, I worked to put enough money in the bank so that I wouldn’t have to. And I learned a lesson about time: that it was the most precious aspect of life. It was wonderful to be able to paint every day: everything came together, and my degree show had my first mature pictures.
DS Did you always know that you wanted to work in paint?
JS I always painted or made things from a young age. The permission for creativity was strong in my upbringing. My parents were teachers and would encourage creativity.
View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Propped, 1992. Photograph: © Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian
DS In a lot of ways, you were the one who gave me my first creative awakening. Growing up in Glasgow, I’d never been to a museum or a gallery. A couple of art teachers at school could see I was struggling. One night after school, they said: “Look, just come with us,” and took me up to the Glasgow School of Art to the 1992 degree show. A lot of it was lost on me, because I was only a kid. But then I turned the corner and there was Propped, and although I didn’t understand all the layers of it, I was blown away. In that one moment, your work changed the course of my entire life.
JS Was that the first time you went to the building?
DS First time. I grew up less than a mile away from it and hardly knew it existed. Even if I had, I would have been intimidated; working-class kids don’t always feel that they’re invited into those circles.
When I was writing [Douglas’s 2020 debut novel] Shuggie Bain, I looked at Trace (1993–94) a lot. It was an image that I had of Shuggie when he takes off his mother’s bra to care for her because she can’t care for herself, and he’s looking at her back, at the lines left in the flesh, and rubbing them and hoping they would lift. As if he could erase them, he could take away some of her pain.
JS Hilary Robinson, my theory tutor for my dissertation, had written an essay where she said: “A body is not a neutral ground of meaning but a copper plate to be etched.”
DS Those paintings were helpful in slowing me down. They ask us to observe closely. They challenged me to write about bodies in a similar way, and it’s essential because the body is a very political thing. It’s often the only thing that my characters have: their bodies are shaped by what they do, and their lives are shaped by how they use their bodies to survive.
JS There’s a lot of attention concentrated on our bodies. You see that shift in the high street, the way the shops change over the years: you used to have a post office, a stationer’s, a butcher; now many have transitioned to nail bars, tanning salons, tattoo parlours.
View image in fullscreen The art of us … Jenny Saville and Douglas Stuart. Photograph: Courtesy of Gagosian
DS I was at a university a couple of weeks ago to do a reading of Shuggie Bain. It’s only five years old but I can’t yet look back on him with fondness. All I wanted to do was rewrite the book. I wished I had a red pen. Do you look back with kindness? With fondness?
JS Fondness sometimes, or I find my fearless naivety a bit amusing. Often I hear the music that was playing at the time, look at passages of paint and remember making that mark, the size of brush I used, the feeling inside. When I see my paintings I often think: “Oh, that part worked, but maybe I should have put another bridging tone there.” People say: “Oh, that’s a great painting,” and you think: “It’s not as good as it was in my head.”