Human dignity lies at heart of Sinnott case

The Supreme Court decision in the case of Mr Jamie Sinnott illustrates the limitations of our legal system. Perhaps, more importantly, it shows the deficiencies in the way in which our society operates.

The decision of the court - that the right to primary education does not extend beyond age 18 - seems cruel in the extreme, given the fact that Mr Sinnott has progressed so well in the year of education he has received. If the High Court had come to the same conclusion, the happiness which his mother Kathryn tells us her son feels because of his schooling would never have happened.

Yet from another vantage point, the court had no option but to exclude all considerations except the intentions of those who framed the Constitution. Viewed in this way, the decision to extend primary education to the age of 18 might even be construed as generous. Once again, we see that vindication in law is not the same as the demands of natural justice.

Does this decision mean that Mr Sinnott has no right to appropriate care, including education, which will enable him and the many others like him to develop to their full potential? Not at all. Of course he has such a right, but he has much more than a right.

Rights are the minimum standard any human being can expect. In a society that functions as it should, we would not be talking simply in terms of rights, but of much more - the supportive web of relationships between individuals, civil society and the State which promotes the common good and the development of individuals.

Ms Kathryn Sinnott was failed not so much by the Supreme Court, but by the rest of us, and in particular by politicians. She has a son with a high level of need. Although he was receiving considerable love and affection, he required a structured regimen of education geared to his special requirements. Given Ms Sinnott's abundant level of commitment and energy, she must have lobbied politicians hard to achieve justice for her son and all the others with autism.

No matter how sympathetic individual politicians might have been, the system operated as it always had done and ignored those requests for justice. Why? Because those with autism and other handicaps are vulnerable and not a source of votes, and because those who care for them often find it difficult enough to get through the day, much less to get out there and lobby.

While many of us feel sympathy for, and vague guilt at, the situation that those with handicaps and their carers are forced to endure, few of us feel outrage, the kind of outrage that spurs politicians into taking notice. Politicians are notoriously oriented towards the present. Few think beyond the next election, and we as voters reinforce that tendency because we do not reward those politicians who think in larger terms. (Alan Dukes and the Tallaght strategy springs to mind.)

So a woman as determined as Ms Sinnott would have had no option but to turn to the courts. That has two effects. It forces politicians to take notice and it attracts the attention of the media. Mr Sinnott's plight was no less tragic before the court action was taken, but it would not have attracted the same degree of attention from the media. Now it could be cast in classic David and Goliath terms, or the dedicated mother struggling against all odds. Suddenly it was a story.

THERE is an unhealthy symbiosis between the legal and quasi-legal system, and the media. On the day of the Supreme Court ruling, there were three major stories on RTE news, all involving court decisions.

Court cases and tribunals are an easy source of news. But it has one serious consequence, which is that stories are much less likely to be covered if people do not take the judicial route. This is rarely acknowledged when media people bemoan the increase in litigiousness, or the failures of our political system which mean that people like the Sinnotts are forced to resort to the courts.

More and more, we are framing our relationships with each other in legal terms, and the media obsession with the legal area more than contributes to this. It is not a healthy development when the only way to vindicate rights is to resort to the courts. It means that our civic life, and the complex web of relationships that enables us to live together is not operating as it should. The nub of the Sinnott case does not lie in the interpretation of Article 42.2. It lies in the value we place on human beings, and on whom we choose to include or exclude in our definition of what it is to be human.

We never seem to realise that people with handicaps have much to give, including an enhanced understanding of what it is to be human. One woman, Temple Grandin, who is autistic but who has a high level of verbal functioning, has written a book called Thinking in Pictures. (Vintage, 1996). It is a fascinating account of how her mind works in an entirely visual way. Thanks to her family and intensive early intervention, she learned to graft verbal communication onto this skill. She says, almost casually, in the first chapter of the book that virtual reality computer systems are like crude cartoons to her. She can manipulate an image, view it from any angle and in three dimensions, all in her head.

Temple Grandin is now an associate professor who lectures extensively on autism and who has shed light on the functioning of all our minds, not just of those with autism. This is not to suggest that everyone with autism could achieve the same. Yet it is tragic to think that a Temple Grandin reared in Ireland could have remain locked inside her head, because we as a society are not willing to demand that all those with handicaps be treated as human beings and helped to achieve their potential.

bobrien@irish-times.ie