An interesting proposal surfaced yesterday from Fórsa, the country’s largest public sector union, when launching its general election manifesto.
The union is calling for a four-day working week to be piloted in parts of the public and civil service, a suggestion which is bound to spark a good deal of discussion. The union’s call for a four-day working week specifies that the measure be trialled “in parts of the public and civil service, without loss of pay or productivity”.
With the election campaign in full swing, this is the perfect time to make such a proposal — from the union’s perspective. Others may have a more cynical view of the timing.
The recent furore about teachers after Michael O’Leary’s disparaging comments meant every party and grouping was obliged to offer public support for teachers, and though Fórsa is not a teaching union, this call offers politicians a tricky choice. If they do not support the union’s proposal, is their backing of teachers an empty promise, one to be forgotten as soon as the ballots are counted? All candidates will be wary of the power of the public service unions, particularly with election day looming in the foreground.
Those politicians will also be aware, however, of the likely reaction of voters in the private sector to this proposal. To put it delicately, there is a widespread perception that efficiency and productivity are not guaranteed in the performance of some parts of the public and civil service.
If this proposal were to be implemented with pay levels being unaffected by the move to a four-day working week, then frank disbelief would be one of the more repeatable responses of those not employed in the public service.
It could also raise awkward questions: When Fórsa seeks a four-day work week “without loss of... productivity” in the public service, does that mean five days of work in some parts of the public service can be completed in four days? This seems a flexible interpretation of productivity, at best.
Workers such as gardaí and nurses are doing heroic work in challenging circumstances, but instances of waste and inefficiency are also plentiful elsewhere.
This proposal does not appear to be the remedy.
Every occurrence in the country at present has to be seen through the filter of the general election. Hence the recent twist to the ongoing consideration of cybersecurity: Is the integrity of our election facing online threats as well?
As reported here, Ireland’s cybersecurity agency, the National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC), stated there is an overall ‘medium’ threat of cyberattacks on candidates and political parties during the campaign, including a ‘high’ risk of “hack and leak” incidents. The NCSC believes the risk of interference and disinformation by hostile states is ‘medium’.
It should be pointed out that ‘medium’ is mid-level risk, according to the NCSC’s scale of threats, and is therefore at a significant level. The centre outlined the possible reasons which make Ireland a target for such attacks, which include our geographical location in Europe, the level of foreign investment here, key export markets, and our position as a “data centre hub”.
These are reasonable points to make and are valuable in helping to stress the importance of maintaining cybersecurity measures as a matter of course. But assigning logical or strategic reasons for cyberattacks may also be slightly misleading — for rogue states in particular fomenting unrest and disruption is an end in and of itself. Destabilising democracies in this way is not a process with a natural end or obvious result, as creating instability and uncertainty is the whole point of the attack.
Being the focus of such attacks also raises another interesting question: Is Ireland truly neutral if attacked by other states in this way?
Our longstanding commitment to military neutrality can often lead to passionate debates when our European security obligations are invoked. However, perhaps we should include cyber-neutrality as an important strand in such debates.
Our physical location might remove us from traditional military considerations, but it might be worth acknowledging how little political borders or geographical obstacles mean when it comes to online threats.
The announcement of a media takeover is the kind of news often only of interest to current affairs addicts, but an acquisition by The Onion earlier this week attracted attention far beyond that narrow constituency.
The satirical online magazine announced that it had acquired right-wing media company Infowars and its associated intellectual property.
Infowars was founded and owned by Alex Jones, who used the site to disseminate wild conspiracy theories and to support Donald Trump.
Jones is most notorious for the shameful falsehood that the 2012 Sandy Hook school shooting — in which 26 people were killed, including 20 children — was a hoax.
Parents of children killed in the shooting successfully sued Jones for defamation and, in June of this year, he was ordered to liquidate his personal assets as he owes those parents $1.5bn (€1.42bn) in damages.
Now The Onion, with the backing of the Sandy Hook families, has bought his site with the intention of “making it a very funny, very stupid website,” according to Onion CEO Ben Collins.
Given the torrent of bad news in recent weeks, defanging such a toxic outlet is a notable victory. It shows that even the likes of Alex Jones are not beyond some form of justice.