Soothing the bloated middle classes is what politics boils down to these days

â€ËœTHE middle class can kiss my ass: Iâ€â„¢ve got the bankerâ€â„¢s bonus at last.â€Â This play on the old song came to mind when I was reading Broke, subtitled â€Å“Who Killed the Middle Classes?â€Â by English writer David Boyle. Although the focus of the book is the British middle class (and well over 70 per cent of the British population now describe themselves as middle class), it will strike a chord on this side of the pond, as our native species is as prone to whingeing as the Brits.[private] The plight of the middle class is becoming a common theme in the world of books, documentaries, talk shows and opinion pieces such as this, largely because these forums are mainly a middle-class preserve and the one thing this class is obsessed with is self-preservation. Sadly, thereâ€â„¢s a common denominator in most analysis of the death of the middle-class dream â€â€ a desire to turn the clock back to those halcyon days when all was rosy in the garden, credit was cheap, and the lower orders knew their place. Not going to happen, folks. On the other hand, governments realise that their fate depends on pandering to these unrealistic fantasies because itâ€â„¢s the middle class that puts them in power. Hence the ERSI report this week showing that the younger, and lesser voting, half of the population are paying the heaviest recessionary price. So, even if politicians want to change the world, theyâ€â„¢re hamstrung by those middle-class powerbrokers, and must continue to dance to their tune. The author of Broke seems to have a bit of a Shane Ross-like complex about bankersâ€â„¢ bonuses, bemoaning how such extravagant payments diminish the pay rises and upward mobility of his beloved middle-class comrades. His message seems to be that thereâ€â„¢s really no point in looking for that promotion because some banker of whom youâ€â„¢ve never heard will make your pay rise look very paltry when compared with his bonus. Iâ€â„¢m afraid Iâ€â„¢m missing the logic here. Should I give up on my journalism because Celia Ahernâ€â„¢s royalties put my pay packet in the halfpenny place? Should the local team throw their hat at it because Real Madrid does it so much better? The odd thing about the middle class (Irish included) is that while a fair number of its members are squeezed strugglers mired in debt, the dastardly banks are still groaning under the billions in savings stashed away for a rainy day by their neighbours. Methinks the class doth protest too much. Whatâ€â„¢s even more odd is the swing to the left by the same people. Not so long ago they were pre­dominantly PD types, venting about getting the â€Å“nanny stateâ€Â off their backs, wanting a free rein given to free enterprise â€â€ Thatcherism with an inhuman face. But the froth has well and truly gone off the latte now. Now that theyâ€â„¢ve pooped their financial arses the formerly despised State is supposed to come in and wipe them. As an unreconstructed leftie, and one with impeccable middle-class credentials, Iâ€â„¢m happy enough to see legions of golf club-wielding comrades rush to the barricades under their designer red flags, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they mightnâ€â„¢t be the most reliable revolutionaries. Thereâ€â„¢s not much evidence of consistency there. The thing is, folks, your side won. Neoliberal capitalism wiped the floor with us naive socialists who persisted in believing in such worn-out concepts as society, equality, even fraternity. Itâ€â„¢s a bit rich now complaining about the easy ride your formerly friendly bankers are getting. You werenâ€â„¢t complaining when they were lending you fantasy money on the basis that the investment property would quadruple in value overnight and then youâ€â„¢d have it all: the villa in Bulgaria and a cushy retirement at forty-five. As with all ponzi schemes, the first in â€â€ and out â€â€ got rich quick; those who followed got fleeced. Now everybody wants the banks and the bankers hammered. Austerity, or living within your means as Frau Merkel would call it, has become a dirty word. But how does anti-austerity work? How exactly would we have handled a complete banking collapse if the late Brian Lenihan had allowed the shit to hit the fan? Who would give this basket-case country over a billion a month just to keep it up and running? Yes, we lefties would have put most bankers up against a wall and then printed money by the truckload, which is an alternative to the ongoing cutbacks thatâ€â„¢s about as plausible as anything being proposed by the lame-brained economists found among the bourgeoisie. Talk is cheap, but waffle is free. Those armchair economists bemoaning the efforts, however imperfect, to inject some sort of realism back into the way we run our affairs should start coming up with viable alternatives if they want to be taken seriously. And no, making Germany pay for everything isnâ€â„¢t really a sound economic strategy, although it does score highly in the fantasy stakes. We lefties lost the argument a long time ago. The disciples of neoliberalism came, bought and conquered. They won the day. Now the least they could do is live with the consequences of the failed and fraudulent economic theory they once thought would make them as rich as bankers. Enough of the whining â€â€ stop stealing our lefty clothes. Nothing is permanent but change BOYLEâ€â„¢S book, although London-based, will appeal to Irish readers because he is obsessed with the price of property. He frets that his children will never be able to afford the type of home in which his parents grew up. Unaffordable property, above all else, is killing off the middle classes, seems to be his argument. From my vantage point in North-East Galway, I have a different perspective. Maybe if the â€Å“Chelsea tractorâ€Â brigade hadnâ€â„¢t so enthusiastically contributed to the property speculation bubble in the first place, then India and Archie wouldnâ€â„¢t have to commute from Newcastle to their city jobs. Ditto for schools. The endangered middle class might have a better chance of avoiding extinction if it didnâ€â„¢t funnel such a huge portion of its income into private schools, still known as public schools for some perverse British reason. Going to a State school is class hara-kiri to Boyle. Something similar exists here with Gaelscoils. Few give a toss about the language: the real aim is to spare Fiachra and Aoibheann the indignity of sitting in class with the lower orders. The argument that a healthy middle class underpins economic and political stability is fairly sound. Our northern European neighbours are proof enough of this. But thereâ€â„¢s a perception abroad that whatâ€â„¢s needed is a preservation order on the â€Å“betterâ€Â socio-economic classes, to protect its members from their own mistakes and stupidity. Boyle seems to think that the British middle class should, like ballet, be cherished by society at large. Most people have absolutely no interest in The Nutcracker but are forced to subsidise the enjoyment of it by an elite few because the world might be a poorer place without some prat in tights taking an hour and a half to sing his swan song. But, clichéd or not, nothing in this life is permanent but change. Perhaps the middle class is not so much dying as being reconfigured through adapting to prevailing circumstances. Itâ€â„¢s called evolution. Over on this side of the water, we developed something of a quixotic approach to class. Just as happened in Cuba after Castro took over, when men began growing beards to better fit in with the new regime, we collectively decided that we were, the lot of us, homogenous, classless scions of horny-handed sons of toil and peasant farmers. In reality, the real Irish revolution was well over by the time Pearse and Connolly made a mess of Sackville Street and then instigated a process that saw it eventually renamed as Oâ€â„¢Connell Street. Our real class revolution was brought about by the Land Acts and by the actions of Michael Davitt and Parnell. We moved from being peasant tenants to being owner-occupiers and history has shown, throughout the world, that there is nothing more conservative than peasants when they get their hands on land. Then along came our late-lamented boom, which saw decades of myth-making swept aside as we made a headlong dash to become middle class, going from tenants to landholders to landlords in a few generations. Where we got it wrong was when our nicely burgeoning middle class became discontented with its middle-class status. Nice house, steady job, good school, car, holiday and Blue Nun in the wine rack werenâ€â„¢t enough. No, covetous glances at the upper crust lifestyle flaunted in those waiting room magazines decided us that weâ€â„¢d like a bit of that. A grander home â€â€ homes, why not? â€â€ original art, a gee-gee or two and Châteauneuf-du-Pape on tap. Wide boy bankers and property developers were on hand to milk our aspirations, the credit boom revved up to service our aspirations, and the rest is boom to bust history. Banker envy may have helped get us into this mess, but weâ€â„¢ll need more than anger at bankers to get us out. â€Â¢ â€Â¢ â€Â¢ Quote of the Week â€Å“Things taste better in a small houseâ€Â â€â€ Queen Victoria[/private]