The N.E.P. effect

After that wondrous Spring, this doesn’t feel like summer. Rather, it feels like October. Only the Eurovision and the Champions’ League remind you that we are supposed to be out in our smalls, enjoying the warmth, the luxury of sun on our backs and a sense that perhaps Eden was really a garden in its early summer splendour.

But we’re not. We’re still in a summer of discontent. You name it, there’s a problem. The row over college fees was the most obvious of recent vintages, but it was by no means the only one.

As it happens, Noel Dempsey was absolutely accurate in his deconstruction of the Labour Party position. There isn’t a shred of evidence that free college fees helped people from working class or economically disadvantaged backgrounds to enter or complete third level. Rather, it gave middle and upper class families more disposable cash with which to buy grinds for their children, thereby further advantaging them in the competition for points for higher education entry.

And yes, it is a competition, and yes, the more you have to spend, the more you can buy.

The truth is that Irish society is socially stratified and socially reproductive. You have to address much more fundamental factors than free college entry if you want to make society more egalitarian.

Besides, who decided that going to a university or institute of technology was the acme of a person’s ambition? Who ordained that this was the way we would measure the social inclusiveness of our society? Not everyone rates what universities have to offer. And there is something appallingly snobbish and academically biased about a value system that rates a poor third level qualification above a good apprenticeship.

But I digress. The summer of discontent also includes a range of measures to control what some people regard as Ireland’s drink problem. They aren’t as draconian as they might have been, but they raise a number of questions. Of these, the most significant refers to the implementation of existing regulations.

The truth of the matter is that there are precious few areas of Irish life that are not constrained by laws of one kind or another. But they are not implemented. Instead, we have an entirely alternative approach in place.

Essentially, the Gardaí no longer set out to enforce the law with any consistency. They are too desk-bound, too busy, too few. Whatever. As a result, instead of enforcement, they, and the health and justice hierarchy, have opted for frightening people with the prospect of terrible penalties for transgressions.

It’s an approach based on behaviourist principles. Call it the theory of maximum deterrence and minimum enforcement. Well, okay… call it occasional and selective enforcement. If someone is free to go and do something about it.

Of course, if it’s a demonstration by students or what the Garda hierarchy (or the business community, or the oafs that plague Joe Duffy) consider to be layabouts or undesirables, then the Gardaí can also muster a show. Young people in groups of more than five are especially suspect. Except in O’Connell Street when Prime Time is filming, when the Gardaí are conspicuously absent.

So they, and politicians, who can’t be bothered to analyse a problem in any systematic way and who are pathologically prone to knee-jerk reactions, and the menage that comprise the new temperance movement, all favour hard right (even fascist) control measures, such as are to be introduced in this country. Not that they will be enforced any more than existing ones. The idea is that the fear of the terrible consequences will be sufficient to deter all but the hardened…

Looking at these and other control measures, a fascinating change is clearly evident in Irish culture. In effect, the Irish are becoming what they have probably always been, a Northern European Protestant people.

Once upon a time, Irish people believed in God and their behaviour was framed by one of the main organised religions. They believed that they should not do wrong because God was watching them and would catch up on sinners and misbehavers at the gateway to the next world. All their sins would be written down, to be read out before everyone on Judgement Day.

No more. Organised religion has lapsed, and the Catholic God is a fading influence. Now, we are told we should not do wrong, because a camera (or a mobile phone, or a computer log) records all our sins, and the sins and misdeeds of wrongdoers will be read out in court, or recorded on their driving licences, or published for everyone’s lubricious entertainment in the media.

It’s different? Not really. We’ve just exchanged one straitjacket for another.

When people like Michael McDowell want to describe a society with a healthy approach to drinking, they instance the Mediterranean countries. But these, by definition, do not have the kind of overweening control systems found in northern countries, and now being introduced with spades in Ireland. So why is he, and his colleague in the Department of Health, so intent on instituting a comprehensive totally controlling nanny state?

Maybe we should back off from this despicable fascist tendency for a while and see if there’s a better way. Just implementing existing laws might be a start…

The Hog