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  • Gladwell and Minister Harney

    April 28, 2010 @ 11:55 pm | by Bryan

    I really like Malcolm Gladwell. I had the privilege of listening to him speak when UCD hosted the writer a little over a year ago. On that occasion, he even kindly answered a question I put before him as he signed my copy of Outliers. Days later, while reading the book, I remember disagreeing with something he had written (the first and only time that I’ve seriously disagreed with Gladwell). Mixed in with stories about Mozart, Steve Jobs, and Korean pilots, while defending his 10 000 hour thesis, Gladwell makes the case for charter schools.

    Charter schools seem to me to be a particularly American solution to poverty. A testimony to the mastery of the market, they demonstrate what can be accomplished given the right incentives. Typically, inner-city American children fall behind their better-off cohorts academically. The root problem is that social issues keep these children from devoting as much time to their studies as others. Charter schools therefore start early in the morning and end late in the day. They also offer shorter vacations since they aim to keep their pupils in active learning for as long as possible. The idea is that if these children are in school for a sufficient period of time, they will cover as much ground as children in better social circumstances and will therefore be more likely to succeed academically. And they do just that, making the schools very popular in poor areas, despite being almost cruelly taxing on their pupils.

    I don’t like the idea of charter schools. An old paediatrician once called me a bleeding heart liberal, but on this issue, I think we would agree. Charter schools, in my opinion, treat the symptom rather than the underlying pathology. If poverty is the issue, I don’t see how allowing a few to keep up academically can be thought of as anything but a temporary bandage. Reading Gladwell hold up this bandage as a potential solution makes me more than a little uncomfortable.

    That same feeling was evoked in me by the minister for health, who wrote:

    …The critical question is how we use all resources, particularly public resources, to help people stay healthy and to get best outcomes for patients from healthcare…

    …It’s a critical question for all developed countries because the hospitalisation model of healthcare is financially unsustainable…

    …I invite people to recognise that it’s more important how money is spent than how it is raised from the public…

    …Our policy is equity of access to publicly-funded health services. We are open to using all providers who meet quality and value for money standards to contribute to public services…

    A comparison between Gladwell and Minister Harney isn’t quite fair. I generally tend to agree with the former while I mostly disagree with the latter. I just don’t share her faith in the market. Gladwell believes in charter schools because he believes that if you spend long enough at something (10 000 hours), you’ll do well at it given some aptitude. Minister Harney on the other hand, from what I can gather, believes in the market.

    But even before we get to the question of service delivery, an important question must be answered. What does ‘equity of access to publicly-funded health services’ mean? We can even simplify that. What is equity? Does it mean that people get what they pay for, such that those who are willing to pay extra are entitled to more or better or faster services? Does it mean that absolutely no distinctions should be drawn between patients, so that regardless of one’s ability to pay, or how expensive one’s treatment may be, each will be treated ‘equally’? Or does it mean that each citizen will be allocated a fixed sum of money, health credits so to speak, and will be entitled only to their fair share such that when those credits run out, they are no longer eligible for state health services? Or that the state’s health services will be structured so as to serve the greatest number; meaning that those whose ailments are expensive to treat will have to access their healthcare elsewhere?

    And what about the suggestion that ‘the hospitalisation model of healthcare is financially unsustainable’? Isn’t it only unsustainable if one holds to a certain set of values? The Cubans (I know, this example is well worn now), seem to value healthcare above modern consumer goods. I imagine that the idea that the hospitalisation model is unsustainable, on a budget of €15 billion, when far greater sums can be found to prop up the financial services sector, would make no sense to them.

    Doesn’t the question of what is or isn’t financially sustainable then really rest on what we take as our foundational principles? Isn’t the same true of what we mean by the word ‘equitable’?

    I suppose what worries me most about the minister’s article isn’t so much the matter of our ideological differences, or my fear that, as Dr Christine O’Malley suggested on radio today, the subtext is a desire to privatise health. No, the real worry for me is that we make Gladwell’s mistake and fight over which bandage to apply rather than engaging in debate over the real underlying issue. What are our views on justice? What does equity look like? Who should get what and why?

    The only way €15 billion isn’t enough to sustain the health of less than 5 million people is when there is an attempt to throw money at the issue instead of directly addressing those difficult core issues.

  • Reshuffling personalities

    March 25, 2010 @ 4:00 pm | by Bryan

    Appointments of Ministers at Áras an Uachtaráin last night: (front seated) Cathaoirleach of the Seanad Pat Moylan, Ceann Comhairle Séamus Kirk, Chief Justice Mr John Murray, Taoiseach Brian Cowen, Tánaiste and Minister for Education and Skills Mary Coughlan; (Back row) Minister for Social Protection Éamon Ó Cu?v, Minister for Tourism, Culture and Sport Mary Hanafin, Minister for Enterprise,Trade and Innovation Batt O'Keeffe, Minister for Community, Equality and Gaeltacht Affairs Pat Carey, Minister for Defence Tony Killeen and Chief Whip John Curran. Photograph: Cyril Byrne

    Appointments of Ministers: (front seated) Pat Moylan, Séamus Kirk, Mr John Murray, Brian Cowen, Mary Coughlan; (Back row) Éamon Ó Cuív, Mary Hanafin, Batt O’Keeffe, Pat Carey, Tony Killeen and John Curran. Photograph: Cyril Byrne.

    I have been trying to make sense of the latest cabinet reshuffle and the response to it. To begin with, the response. From Stephen Collins’ excellent report:

    According to Fine Gael leader, Enda Kenny – “The Taoiseach has retreated from the challenge of leadership that fell upon his shoulders. He could have been courageous, taken a different approach and from among those on his own backbenches he could have reshuffled his Cabinet so that it would bring some semblance of life to an exhausted group who are fatigued and flattened. They are without ideas, energy, ideals or commitment.”
    Translation, I don’t like the people Brian Cowen picked?

    Labour Party leader, Eamon Gilmore – “Why is the Minister for Health and Children, Deputy Harney, still in office? By any standards, she should be removed from office. While I acknowledge she has been a good Minister in other departments and has made a major contribution to public life, her record as Minister for Health and Children has been hopeless.”
    In other words, I really don’t like one of the people Cowen picked?

    Last but not least, Green Party leader, John Gormley – the appointment of two of his party’s TDs as junior ministers represented a “very successful day for the Greens in Government”.
    That is, I’m delighted that two of my people got picked?

    And then there’s the reshuffle itself. Conventional wisdom would suggest that the guiding principle was ensuring stability, and that by rewarding allies, pacifying wavering partners, and only moving things around so long as doing so did not get in the way of the rewarding and pacifying.

    Is it just me, or do the political leaders all seem to be far more interested in who gets political power than with what gets done with that power? Even the Greens, who probably have the clearest political agenda of the lot, seem more concerned with staying in power than with realising their vision, as if that vision could not possibly be realised without their presence in government. It is easy to pick on the Greens, but I can’t help but feel that everyone else is the same. Had the Taoiseach sacked half of his cabinet, or the whole lot, and replaced them with the most promising and articulate deputies from every party, I’m sure he would have been hailed as a genius. But would that really have been any different from the action he took? Sure, it would have meant spreading the political power around like a good democrat, but what good does it do the country in the long run if the distribution of power is effected for the sake of popularity, legacy or just good naturedness rather than for personal political survival? Isn’t the real issue the socio-economic transformation of the state?

    What I found really sad about the reshuffle and then the terms in which it has been subsequently analysed is that apart from the fuzzy, non-specific talk of innovation and economic recovery, there hadn’t been much in the way of articulating a comprehensive vision for the future. Not by government, nor the opposition. The discussion has been something like discussing the merits of a new football signing without any reference to team he has joined, long term goals, their style of play, their likely position at the end of the season, the competitions in which they will be involved, and so forth.

    I think it’s really sad that whether a politician is a good media performer, is articulate in the Dáil, is liked or otherwise, comes from such and such a part of the country, and so forth, that these things set the parameters of the discussion on political appointments as opposed to questions around where the country is going.

  • On strike

    March 22, 2010 @ 11:26 pm | by Bryan

    A large queue of people outside the Molesworth Street Passport Office in Dublin before lunchtime today. Photograph: Bryan O'Brien/The Irish Times

    A large queue of people outside the Molesworth Street Passport Office in Dublin before lunchtime today. Photograph: Bryan O’Brien/The Irish Times.

    The first industrial action that I came across in this country was the nurses’ work-to-rule a couple years ago. I distinctly remember thinking that if this is how the rich world does strikes, then either it has got something right that my part of the world has yet to figure out, or people here just don’t understand the concept of the strike.

    Leader of the Labour Party, Eamon Gilmore, brought that back to mind. In response to the strike by officials at the passport office, he is reported as saying:

    I full understand the anger of low-paid public sector workers who have had their salaries unilaterally cut twice during the past twelve months, but those who are suffering as a result of action now being taken are not responsible for these pay cuts.

    This is where I suppose the cross cultural misunderstanding sets in. Growing up, industrial action was explained to me as something people did to a third party in order to force their employers to yield in to some set of demands. It therefore goes without saying that those who suffer are not responsible for creating the conditions that led to the industrial action in the first place.

    I don’t like industrial action in general. I don’t like it because I don’t see how it succeeds apart from a complete disregard for the public; and even then success isn’t guaranteed. In order to be successful, it often demands that the aggrieved do, or at the very least be willing to do something egregious in order to demonstrate their right standing, which is just twisted. In reality, that means that unless it were now impossible to obtain a travel document, or Gardaí refused to arrest anyone, or all health professionals decided that they wouldn’t turn up to work, industrial action by any of the above is not likely to be taken seriously. If it is taken seriously, it is most likely to be thought of as an annoyance and unlikely to serve the interests of those striking. Should providers of essential services refuse to work, on the other hand, the public would rightly turn on them and blame them for the ensuing disaster.

    But what’s a trade union to do? I don’t know. But in a country in which people prize their convenience, I don’t think inconveniently highlighting the plight of the low paid worker will win much sympathy. The trade union might win political capital. Politicians will seek to do the same on the basis of their reactions to the situation. But the passport office worker will almost certainly lose out.

    Then again, in this part of the world, you can’t just fire an entire department for going on strike. So maybe there’s hope.

  • Indifferent

    February 19, 2010 @ 5:53 pm | by Bryan

    Maybe it’s just me. Maybe being enveloped in a wave of indifference when all sorts of exciting things are happening in the political world is a natural response to sharing a room with an infant with no respect for the sanctity of sleep. Then again, I did resolve not to bug out, or to be taken by buggin’ out this year.

    I almost feel sorry for the now former minister of defence. Others have done worse at better times and have escaped unscathed. Were Mr O’Dea’s fate the first fruits of a new ethical season in political circles, there would be something to celebrate. As things stand, all that has happened is that the opposition’s sustained pressure on the coalition government’s junior partner has necessitated some blood letting, and O’Dea happened to be in the firing line at the wrong time.

    But what has changed? Cabinet ministers will watch what they say in front of journalists. O’Dea has the good fortune of not having to be on the forefront of what must be the mammoth task of helping his political party claw its way back up into contention for the next election; not to mention the responsibilities of running a government ministry. The Greens will keep trying to pretend that they still bear some resemblance to the activists who entered government two and a half years ago, all the while morphing more rapidly into an entity very much like their new big brother. And most of the electorate will, after complaining very bitterly about how the country is being run, remain largely indifferent to issues of governance; few will be moved enough to act, change or do something else. All of these things can be summarised in the words of a caller on RTE Radio 1’s Liveline this afternoon, who expressed disgust at O’Dea’s resignation. He said words to the effect of, ‘We need men of action in government. Why did they make Willie O’Dea resign? It’s like they’re trying to turn us into Sweden, expecting things to happen properly here!’

    I’m sure many people would like this country to resemble Sweden a little more, but I’m not sure we make the connection made by that caller. Replacing personalities, be they the minister of defence, the Taoiseach, or the entire government, won’t change a country. Only changing its culture will do that. Yesterday’s resignation and the events which precipitated it were in keeping with our political culture. Hence my indifference.

  • Michael v Mary

    February 17, 2010 @ 11:06 pm | by Bryan

    Tánaiste Mary Coughlan makes a phone call in her office following her meeting last night with Ryanair chief executive Michael O'Leary. Photograph: Matt Kavanagh

    Tánaiste Mary Coughlan makes a phone call in her office following her meeting last night with Ryanair chief executive Michael O’Leary. Photograph: Matt Kavanagh.

    The spat between the Tánaiste and Ryanair CEO Michael O’Leary is fascinating. It begs the question, who is more powerful, a bunch of elected politicians, or a businessman with the capacity to create lots of jobs?

    Granted, the playing field is uneven in that we are in a recession and jobs count for a whole lot more than they normally would. Also, there isn’t very much goodwill towards politicians right now. So maybe it’s wrong to read too much into the fact that, from what I can tell, the consensus is that O’Leary is right and the government is made up of ditherers who either don’t care enough, or are too incompetent to get a handle on the jobs situation.

    I come to this issue with my own bias. I think the market dictates the range of options available to politicians. The market in my opinion, is really just the interests of those in society with the most capital. Simply put, while the likes of the Tánaiste get fancy titles and all sorts of administrative responsibilities, people like O’Leary are the ones who really run things.

    But maybe I’m wrong. If Michael O’Leary was really that powerful, he probably wouldn’t have had to take his beef with Mary Coughlan into the public realm. He’s thrashing her there, but maybe the fact that there’s even a fight means that the O’Learys of this world aren’t quite as powerful as I thought?

    …unless of course this spat precipitates the fall of the government. The rest of the political establishment is well and truly behind O’Leary in this matter. The ability to replace a government with like-minded politicians would be a most impressive display.

  • Why isn’t George Lee a hero?

    February 9, 2010 @ 10:25 pm | by Bryan

    George Lee speaking outside Leinster House yesterday, following his resignation from both the Dáil and Fine Gael. Photograph: Eric Luke

    George Lee speaking outside Leinster House yesterday, following his resignation from both the Dáil and Fine Gael. Photograph: Eric Luke.

    It pains me to think of myself as jumping onto the George Lee bandwagon, but jump on it I shall. Actually, I’m not really jumping on the bandwagon. I don’t have very much to add to the matter in terms of socio-political analysis or insight. All I have is a question. Simply, why isn’t the guy a hero?

    The ‘I went into politics to serve my country/so that I could look my grandkids in the eye’ was a bit much. It sounded like a politician doing what just about all politicians do – trying to look better than they really are. And let’s face it, a celebrity economist is no more likely to know how to sort out the country’s economic difficulties than all the other economists advising and working within the political process. In that respect, I can understand why so many people feel that Lee should have behaved like other elected officials and just got on with the job he signed up for, regardless of how difficult it may have been to get his ideas across.

    Still, here is an individual who, having spent less than a year on the job, has decided that the main opposition party just isn’t serious, and is walking away. Call it throwing toys out of a cot if you want, but I’m really impressed. Non-compliance with systems and institutions that don’t work is, in my opinion, very definitely the way to go. Which is why I’m confused. The average person distrusts most politicians, the political establishment and its culture. Yet when a George Lee rejects that culture, when he decides that it is better to walk away from it all than to continue to legitimate it, to perpetuate the idea that the slogans, speeches and images that go around at election time bear any resemblance to the reality of post-election political life, he is accused of being a mollycoddled, cowardly civil servant. All of a sudden, the status quo politicians are rugged, powerful, stouthearted Greek gods, while Lee and others of his ilk, most notably (for some reason) civil servants, are pathetic specimens who don’t belong anywhere near the reigns of public office.

    In Understanding Power, Noam Chomsky suggests that a rough environment will produce a rough political class because only they will be able to survive and hang around long enough to make it to the top. That’s not to imply that Ireland necessarily has a ‘rough’ political climate, but it obviously has one which is not conducive to the likes of Lee. And maybe that explains why so many incredibly able people here shun politics as a profession.

    Which brings me back to my initial question: why isn’t Lee a hero? Why, at the very least, isn’t the country panicked? If his election in any way represented a desire to see capable people from outside the political class given the opportunity to help sort out the country, why isn’t his failure to do that ominous? Doesn’t it mean that only the sort of person who can accommodate or tolerate the political system as it currently stands can hold elected office for any significant period of time?

    Turning on Lee, from where I stand, looks like an endorsement by the ruled, of the idea that they don’t belong in their rulers’ courts.

  • Obama a year on

    January 21, 2010 @ 5:09 pm | by Bryan
    YouTube Preview Image

    A year ago I wrote the following:

    …I think Obama’s role is largely symbolic … I think the biggest ‘thing’ he gives his nation and the rest of the world is a sense of hope and possibility. Having lived in places where hope literally sustains people, I would be the last person to belittle the importance of that quality… Tied in to that hope, I think he inspires people to strive for more and better. Again, you can’t quantify the importance of that. But even I, an unashamed Obama fan, have begun to feel that the level of expectation on him in some quarters has gone way beyond the ridiculous.

    It has only been twelve months, but things have changed dramatically. I’m not an Obama fan anymore, and I certainly don’t think that he inspires universal hope. As for ‘Yes We Can’, I personally feel betrayed.

    Why betrayed? Barack Obama ran as more than just a ‘change candidate’. He ran as a man who wanted to ‘transcend politics’; an ordinary human being in high political office. The idea was that the political process in the United States would be simplified, and ordinary people would get to dictate to government and the political establishment, not the other way around – government of the people, for the people, and all of that. I think that’s what galvanised so many people: the idea that the masses would get to call the shots. That of course, hasn’t happened.

    The example that most stands out is the so-called healthcare debate. Even before the ‘debate’ was opened to people, a settlement was supposedly reached with the health insurance industry. A pragmatic move? Maybe, but to then characterise the so-called healthcare reform as a means of ‘sticking it to the man’ was deceitful. And having begun with the health insurance industry in mind, is it any wonder that word of bill being successfully passed resulted in stock-market gains for those same companies? Worst of all, the closest that the public – the ‘we’ in ‘Yes We Can’ – came to a crafting their own healthcare legislation, was being campaigned to by politicians with their own ideas about how to go about things. Not exactly rule of and for the people.

    According to today’s editorial:
    The constant management of expectations, the brokering of compromise after compromise in Congress over health, the recommitment to the war in Afghanistan, the deferral of action on jobs while bankers were “rescued”, and delays in closing Guantánamo, have contributed to [President Obama’s] gradual alienation from his Democratic base.

    True, but more than those things, I think it is the feeling that though he may be a decent man with good intentions, the president is still at heart a politician in the mould of other politicians. His decine in popularity has to do with the fact that there will be no earthshaking change under his tenure, that as things stand, really, ‘we can’t’.

  • Why are we marching?

    November 6, 2009 @ 4:40 pm | by Bryan

    Clockwise from top left, the routes and starting times of the protest marches in Galway, Dublin and Cork.

    Clockwise from top left, the routes and starting times of the protest marches in Galway, Dublin and Cork.

    I’m not sure how I feel about today’s planned marches. I’m a huge supporter of deliberative forms of governance. I also strongly believe in the right of people to protest and publicly register their collective sense of anger. But I have little time for meaningless gestures, and I fear today’s protests fall into that category.

    About 15 years ago Zimbabwe was a flawed, but generally prosperous country that looked like it had a bright future. Somewhere along the line, several big issues came up which polarised the nation. Instead of engaging in a deliberative process, both sides adopted a confrontational approach. National challenges were cast as consequences of the incompetence or callousness of one side or the other, leading to further polarisation and more aggressive confrontation. Fast foreward 15 years, and what was once a prosperous country now resembles a frail invalid who may never return to her previous state of health.

    People have all sorts of ideas about what went wrong in Zimbabwe, some of which have more merit than others. Whatever the other reasons, had the main protagonists actually engaged with each other, had they not gone down the easy road of confrontation but had tried to work things out, the country would, at the very least, be far healthier than it is today.

    That’s Zimbabwe. What has that to do with demonstrations across Ireland? I think the same principles apply. Why are people protesting? If you were to give the gathering in Dublin or Galway a magic wand, or better still the authority of the cabinet, what would they do with the power? Are these protests simply an expression of anger, or is there a substantive underlying demand? I’m all for simple displays of anger, but then what? Do the protesters want a general election to be held in order to elect new leadership? Is the fall of the present government the aim? Do they support a specific set of economic policy recommendations? If so, have all the consequences been thought out and debated?

    Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think the protesters and organisers are the bad guys, or that the cabinet are the unappreciated good guys, any more than I think Zimbabwe’s government had an open door policy 15 years ago. But shouting across the room at the person who is ignoring you probably isn’t going to get them to take a serious look at your recommendations. In fact, the more time and energy are invested into shouting and ignoring, the less that goes towards thought, deliberation and problem solving.

    I don’t understand – maybe it;s just human nature. People, in both their private and public spheres, don’t like to address things directly. We’re broke, and resources that are there are distributed unevenly. Rather than debating how those resources should be distributed, how benefits and burdens should be shared, and what distributional outcomes political, economic, social and legal process should lead to, we fight over specific cases like NAMA, or Brendan Drumm’s pay. NAMA was a bad idea, Drumm shouldn’t have got that bonus, but both are inconsequential when compared to the need to deliberatively establish a national vision, and a plan by which to get there.

    If I could pass one law, it might be that every high school student be made to watch Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing, and then to write an essay entitled On the futility of Buggin’ Out.

  • What’s going on?

    October 9, 2009 @ 10:20 am | by Bryan

    Harry McGee’s fascinating account of the events surrounding the resignation of John O’Donoghue from the position of Ceann Comhairle is both encouraging and a little worrying

    It is incredibly encouraging that public action and opinion were directly responsible for a major political occurrence. I’m more cynical than most about the workings of a democracy, but when it does work, when ordinary people make demands that are heard acted upon, my cynicism dissipates, albeit for just a short while. I think both the elected representatives, and those who elect them, need the occasional reminder of who’s really supposed to be in charge. And in that respect, this week’s events have been extremely encouraging.

    That said, I share the same concern that Elaine Byrne expressed on last night’s Prime Time. It’s all very well finding out an individual who has some seemingly indefensible expense claims. And it’s completely understandable that people want to see some heads roll, especially at a time when many are hurting financially and many more fear their time is coming. But the dealings of one individual are neither here nor there if the structures and the culture that allowed them to happen are left in place.

    I suppose my concern, with respect to this affair and other political issues that have caused public outcry in recent days, is this: are they indicative of a growing culture of civic engagement and political structural reform, or are they just the response of an angry, frightened mob? Only time will tell. The test will be whether or not a few public floggings and one or two executions satisfy the public. Personally, were it a case of either/or, I would forgo the floggings and take reform. I think that was the point Dr. Byrne was making on last night’s show and I presume on the radio this morning.

  • My local TD

    September 29, 2009 @ 1:50 pm | by Bryan

    I must confess that until now, I’ve had mixed feelings about the dual role of the Irish TD – national lawmaker and local issue handyman. I would never have gone as far as Peter Sutherland, who recently described local politicians as being ‘too parochial’. That said, I’ve had plenty of sympathy for those who believe that national politicians should focus solely on national politics and leave fixing streetlights to local representatives.

    Recently however, I was confronted with an issue that I felt I couldn’t resolve on my own. My local TD’s office is on my street (I live in the middle of town), and on my way home one day, I noticed that his clinic was open. On the spur of the moment, I decided to go in and see what would happen.

    Maybe that in itself is problematic. Maybe elected representatives shouldn’t have to deal with whatever issues their constituents impulsively decide to dump onto them. That said, I had a problem (and not even a communal one like a broken streetlight or pothole), I felt an important person like a TD could successfully intercede on my behalf, and as it turned out, he was willing to try. My issue was quickly resolved. I’m not sure how much of that was the result of my TD’s intervention, but I’ve been converted. Accessible, down-to-earth national politicians who are intimately acquainted with the difficulties of their constituents can only contribute positively to a healthy political system. I think.

    I’m torn. On the one hand, I frequently ask those who know about the Irish political system how a cabinet minister who shall remain nameless got re-elected the last time the country went to the polls. That minister’s department is frequently criticised, as is the minister in question. If this minister is as attentive to the needs of their constituents as my TD, my question has at last been definitively answered. Only, if said minister deserves the criticism that is hurled at them, then maybe accessibility isn’t always good for the political system.

    How do you square those two interests – the individual’s interests and those of the whole? Is the functioning of the political system not too different from the economic one? Does efficiency have to give way at times, to some of our higher values? Is having a few bad cabinet ministers a price that we must pay for a system that allows us to be governed by people who regularly interact with, and serve us, in some very mundane ways?


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