One of the great myths of our time is that the old political distinction between right and left has ceased to function. Like most myths, it has some basis in reality, writes Fintan O'Toole.
The end of the Cold War undoubtedly finished the notion of a world that was fundamentally divided between socialism and capitalism.
Political alignments in Europe have shifted in ways which have blurred the old boundaries: Tony Blair, who leads an old socialist party, is, on many economic issues, somewhere to the right of Angela Merkel, who leads an old Christian Democratic party. Old left-wing shibboleths like large-scale nationalisation have become the preserve of a marginal, and politically insignificant, minority.
These changes, however, obscure an obvious fact: the alternatives facing developed societies have seldom been as clear as they are now, and they still break down along left/right lines.
There are two functioning models of the primary relationship between the economy and society. One, the so-called Nordic model, places the fundamental left-wing concern - equality - at its core. The other, the so-called Anglo-Saxon model, emphasises the great concern of the right - freedom. Even when allowances are made for national, cultural and historical differences, there is no doubt that these models are broadly coherent and that they differ from each other. In one, an activist government takes a relatively large amount of taxes and uses it to provide universal social services such as health, education, childcare and public transport. In the other, a more passive government takes relatively smaller amounts of tax and leaves the provision of as many services as possible to the operation of market forces.
The difference between these models is not, as the right likes to argue, that one is more productive than the other. In an overall sense, countries can become rich using either model: the top ten of the most developed countries in the world includes countries which use the Nordic model (Norway, Iceland, Sweden, the Netherlands) and countries in the Anglo-Saxon camp (Ireland, Australia, the United States). Where the models differ most starkly, however, is in the social effects of this wealth - how well it is spread and how many people are excluded from it.
The difference shows up quite consistently on the United Nations Development Programme's Human Poverty Index, which ranks countries at a broadly similar level of wealth according to their levels of poverty and inequality. The rankings for the 18 richest OECD countries are stark. At one end of the scale (with the least poverty and inequality), the top five are all Nordic model countries: Sweden, Norway, the Netherlands, Finland and Denmark. In the middle are countries which operate a "social market" system that is closer to the Nordic than to the Anglo-Saxon model: Germany, Switzerland, Canada, France. At the bottom are the Anglo-Saxon countries: Australia, the UK, the US and Ireland. The only country in this group of rich countries which now ranks below Ireland is a particularly striking case: Italy fell down the rankings during a sustained period of right-wing government.
These rankings were more or less reproduced in last week's Unicef report on the wellbeing of children in rich countries. The children of the Netherlands, Sweden, Denmark and Finland - all Nordic model countries - are best-off. Those of the US and the UK are worst-off. Ireland, in this case, comes out a little better than the classic Anglo-Saxon model countries. Ireland's performance is boosted, however, by inherited cultural factors, especially those relating to personal behaviour and family life. If you look only at the things the State does - health, social protection, education - Ireland is right down there with our Anglo-Saxon cousins. In terms of both material wellbeing and health and safety, Ireland ranks a miserable 19th out of 25.
This kind of evidence is entirely consistent over the last decade, and it could be extended by looking at indicators such as functional illiteracy (Ireland, the UK and the US all share the distinction of having a 20 per cent rate of adult illiteracy) or life expectancy. It seems obvious enough that not only are there different political models, but that they have demonstrably different social effects. There is a real choice between the left and the right and the choice has dramatic consequences for people's lives.
The job of a functioning political system is surely to offer voters that choice. In Ireland's case, one side of the case is more than adequately served. After a decade of Fianna Fáil/Progressive Democrat government, we are firmly in the Anglo-Saxon camp of low taxes, high inequality and - at best - mediocre social services. (This is increasingly acknowledged by those in power: last week, when the Unicef report came out, Brian Lenihan defended Ireland's poor results on the basis that they were better than those of the US and the UK). If the Opposition fails to present a coherent case for the other model, the conclusion that our political system is unable to serve a democracy will be unavoidable.