MORAL philosophers indulge in intellectual masturbation when ethical dilemmas are thrown their way. Courtesy of an enthusiastic whistle-blower at Eskom who found a seemingly conscientious MP, Pieter van Dalen, on the opposition benches, a classic ethical dilemma has been put on the table for those of us so inclined . The whistle- blower leaked a confidential document. The MP happily accepted it and after perusing its content put it all in the public domain on grounds of public interest.
Eskom is unhappy. It claims commercial sensitivity required the document to remain confidential. The chair of the parliamentary portfolio committee on public enterprises, Vytjie Mentor, labelled the MP’s behaviour unethical and illegal. An ethical challenge can be clearly stated in a question that might have been yanked from an ethics examination paper. Was the opposition MP ethically justified in his actions? The Democratic Alliance (DA) politician’s action is ultimately justifiable but it is not so obvious why. Let’s rehearse the moral argument in his favour.
Not all of the salient facts are known or agreed on by Eskom, many members of Parliament and the rest of civil society. This makes it difficult to assess whether the MP did the right thing since the utilitarian principle he acted on, which I discuss shortly, is not controversial. It is the principle’s application to the facts that matter. An absence of factual certainty, however, ultimately helps his utilitarian case.
There has been widespread public suspicion for months now that Eskom has been selling electricity to large corporations such as BHP Billiton and Anglo American at unit prices smaller than those of electricity sold to municipalities and ultimately millions of households. Suspicion has been that the major electricity tariff hikes we have been dumped with may well have been smaller but for these contracts containing preferential rates of supply to large companies.
One particularly callous upshot of all this is the possibility that the little people are cross-subsidising the operational expenditure of the big guys. Add to all of this the additional macroeconomic insult that some companies bring iron ore from abroad, smelt it here and then export the intermediary product for further use in value chains elsewhere, and Eskom’s preferential treatment goes from being economically unfair on individual households to being economically disastrous for some of our industry sectors .
However, while this story makes sense in principle, at least one official from the National Energy Regulator of SA (Nersa) made a counterargument in a radio interview several months back. The counterclaim was that while the nominal unit fee charged for electricity to the big guys is lower than that paid by the rest of us, the cost of supplying electricity to big clients is significantly less, so that profit margins generated for Eskom from those customer segments are in fact much higher than profits flowing from the segment comprising us little people. The unspoken implication was that the big guys, if anything, may well be cross-subsiding us. Supply cost structures are not uniform across customer segments.
These are two equally coherent stories. But not both of them can be true. It is a matter of empirical investigation which version is correct. Given the impact of the tariff hikes on inflation and thereby the standard of living of millions of South Africans, finding out which of the stories is true matters. When massive loans like the one granted by the World Bank are added to the mix, with the reality that future generations will be saddled with debt not of their own choosing, the lack of factual certainty becomes ethically significant. We are forced to adjudicate between the Nersa story and the contradictory intuitions of civil society and ordinary South Africans.
That is the context within which the DA MP’s decision was taken. What is an MP to do when he or she is landed with a document that sheds light on the material disagreement about certain facts that are of substantive ethical significance? This is, furthermore, against the background of a cabinet minister who has, according to the MP in question, failed to offer illuminating answers to parliamentary questions on the matter, so “second best” solutions are off the table.
The MP applied an ethical principle that can be roughly stated as follows. If the overall consequences of doing something will have overwhelming benefit for society and no gross injustices are suffered in the process, then that action is ethically justified. This principle, with its built-in consideration about justice, is surely reasonable. Killing someone would be grossly unjust even if it would make most of us happy. The principle is therefore not blind to justice.
However, given that Eskom is a monopoly and that the wellbeing of millions is affected by the price hikes, directly and indirectly, getting to the bottom of whether or not Eskom’s factual claims are accurate matters. No gross economic injustice will result to Eskom, BHP Billiton or Anglo American . Since the document’s public existence takes us a step closer to resolving these factual disputes, the whistle-blower and MP’s actions, even if possibly illegal, are ethically justified.
http://www.businessday.co.za/articles/Content.aspx?id=107082
Friday, April 23, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
National debate? More like clash of igorant armies!
Anyone who has been following South African political discourse in recent weeks will be forgiven for thinking that rationality, like elitism, is apparently not for everyone. Rationality and cool-headedness offend many of our politicians. Consequently, the state of political discourse in South Africa is downright embarrassing. This impoverishes our democracy profoundly.
In 1994, we set out to live in a deliberative and a participatory democracy, which meant the embrace of an ideal society in which ideas are coolly exchanged by all of us, and everyone plays by the rules of reasoned debate.
This ideal remains tragically elusive, 16 years into the democratic game. Why? What explains this sad state of affairs? And, without ripping the humanity and emotion out of political discourse (which are not unimportant features), how do we nevertheless improve the quality of our political discourse?
We are asked by all and sundry to "debate this and that" as if an invitation to debate is by itself something terribly virtuous and praiseworthy. But before we can debate any of the substantive issues at the heart of the "national debate", we need to be equipped to structure political argument more rationally, and recognise certain rules of engagement that can help us back onto the path towards a deliberative and participatory democracy.
First, however, we need to get a full grip on the problem. Way too often, politicians engage each other, and us, in irrational exchanges - and behave in ways that are, quite simply, distasteful. The most dramatic recent example, of course, is Julius Malema's display of political childishness when he expelled a BBC journalist from a press conference.
Malema's performance was in the first instance an aesthetic assault on the senses - but if these kinds of antics were merely aesthetically jarring, maybe we would have less reason to get nervous about our body politic; unfortunately, that is not the end of the story. The contents of the arguments (or what pass as arguments) are limp, too.
Take, for example, the response of Lindiwe Sisulu, the minister of defence, to the motion of no confidence tabled in parliament by COPE. Using invective that sounded like it had been penned by Malema, she desisted from engaging with the content of the motion and instead tried to personally attack opposition politicians, belittling them and challenging their right to table a motion of that kind at all.
Choice quotes from Sisulu's display of intolerance and irrationality include: "Why are we even debating such silliness? How do we come to even have it on our order paper? But importantly: how do we as parliament deal with such frivolity in future?"
She proceeded to contemplate a change to parliamentary rules to stop such a motion in future - but could not, unfortunately, find "reference in our rules to how parliament can deal with such a waste of time and resources". Her final insult was saved for COPE's parliamentary leader, Methodist bishop Mvume Dandala, at whom she shouted: "Get out and go and serve the church!"
This is also an example of a distasteful response, of course. But it is more than that. If we ignore the inflammatory passion of the speaker, and assess the content of her response to the motion, it is clear that it is irrational.
First, she is attacking the right of opposition leaders to table such a motion. This shows either a basic lack of understanding about the rules of parliament, or a pernicious attempt to ignore them. One smells the latter motivation, since the minister must know the rules, surely? It is an attempt to dent the credibility of a debate opponent, rather than simply getting on with engaging the basis of their political criticism. It is hardly a sophisticated example of playing the person rather than the ball.
Second, the response shows no attempt to understand the content of an opposing party's argument, or to dismantle it logically, evidentially, and with more acceptable rhetorical skill and flair than being rude and abrasive. Sisulu's performance in parliament on that day was not merely in bad political taste. It was also a master class in irrational and destructive political discourse.
And if you think that the ruling party has a monopoly on this dialogical skills deficit, you are very wrong. Irrationality is found everywhere in our body politic.
Take the Democratic Alliance's Helen Zille in the aftermath of the death of Eugene Terre Blanche. She failed to recognise an opportunity to steal our hearts and minds by showing emotional maturity and imaginative leadership on "the race question". Instead, she went on a tirade about the plight of farmers (as opposed to both farmers and farm workers), warning us, most melodramatically, about "a tidal wave of pent-up rage and frustration". One senior member of one of the mostly Afrikaner civil rights organisations joked with me, in an accurate aside, that Zille's response was less balanced than anything from Afriforum or Solidarity. But this response was hers to make. And perhaps it speaks to her constituency, so we cannot criticise it too harshly.
More importantly, however, is that there is an aspect of this reaction to the murder of Terre Blanche that demonstrated irrationality, too. Zille immediately sought to link the event of Terre Blanche's killing to the singing of a struggle song by Malema, even though the police had barely started their investigation.
Zille's response was not evidence-based. It was mere assertion. And it was an assertion motivated by political opportunism. This is irrational. Only claims that are proportional to the available evidence are worth putting in the public domain - at least if you fancy yourself as someone who respects the rules of logic and reasoned debate.
Why, you might wonder, are we saddled with this shoddy state of political debate? There are at least three reasons.
First, politicians are human. And humans are not logic machines. We are motivated by our most deeply held beliefs, which often colour the way we interpret evidence and influence the manner in which we respond to others.
Second, we do not teach critical thinking and debate in our schools or universities. Only the nerdish among us join a debate club. So our politicians often join parliament never having been taught the hard skills of structured debate and persuasive speaking.
Third, and most importantly, we are still suffering the negative aspects of the legacy of liberation politics. The ANC, as a liberation movement, did not and could not honour the rules of open, deliberative debate as deeply as one hoped it now would as a parliamentary party. Some writers claim otherwise, but this strikes me as exaggeration at best. A few of the leaders of the struggle might have had late-night fireside chats, but in essence the ANC had to operate like an army with an army's top-down approach to decision making. Since the ANC, in turn, dominates our political landscape, we collectively suffer its inability to adapt quickly enough to parliamentary democracy.
One macabre solution is simply to wait for a generational shift to happen; no one lives forever. In the meantime, debate- coaching and critical-thinking classes in parliament might be a good starting point. It will be way more useful than induction processes that simply show members of parliaments the seats in which they will be sleeping for the next five years. We have a massive challenge on our hands.
http://www.timeslive.co.za/local/article408986.ece/National-debate-More-like-the-clash-of-ignorant-armies
In 1994, we set out to live in a deliberative and a participatory democracy, which meant the embrace of an ideal society in which ideas are coolly exchanged by all of us, and everyone plays by the rules of reasoned debate.
This ideal remains tragically elusive, 16 years into the democratic game. Why? What explains this sad state of affairs? And, without ripping the humanity and emotion out of political discourse (which are not unimportant features), how do we nevertheless improve the quality of our political discourse?
We are asked by all and sundry to "debate this and that" as if an invitation to debate is by itself something terribly virtuous and praiseworthy. But before we can debate any of the substantive issues at the heart of the "national debate", we need to be equipped to structure political argument more rationally, and recognise certain rules of engagement that can help us back onto the path towards a deliberative and participatory democracy.
First, however, we need to get a full grip on the problem. Way too often, politicians engage each other, and us, in irrational exchanges - and behave in ways that are, quite simply, distasteful. The most dramatic recent example, of course, is Julius Malema's display of political childishness when he expelled a BBC journalist from a press conference.
Malema's performance was in the first instance an aesthetic assault on the senses - but if these kinds of antics were merely aesthetically jarring, maybe we would have less reason to get nervous about our body politic; unfortunately, that is not the end of the story. The contents of the arguments (or what pass as arguments) are limp, too.
Take, for example, the response of Lindiwe Sisulu, the minister of defence, to the motion of no confidence tabled in parliament by COPE. Using invective that sounded like it had been penned by Malema, she desisted from engaging with the content of the motion and instead tried to personally attack opposition politicians, belittling them and challenging their right to table a motion of that kind at all.
Choice quotes from Sisulu's display of intolerance and irrationality include: "Why are we even debating such silliness? How do we come to even have it on our order paper? But importantly: how do we as parliament deal with such frivolity in future?"
She proceeded to contemplate a change to parliamentary rules to stop such a motion in future - but could not, unfortunately, find "reference in our rules to how parliament can deal with such a waste of time and resources". Her final insult was saved for COPE's parliamentary leader, Methodist bishop Mvume Dandala, at whom she shouted: "Get out and go and serve the church!"
This is also an example of a distasteful response, of course. But it is more than that. If we ignore the inflammatory passion of the speaker, and assess the content of her response to the motion, it is clear that it is irrational.
First, she is attacking the right of opposition leaders to table such a motion. This shows either a basic lack of understanding about the rules of parliament, or a pernicious attempt to ignore them. One smells the latter motivation, since the minister must know the rules, surely? It is an attempt to dent the credibility of a debate opponent, rather than simply getting on with engaging the basis of their political criticism. It is hardly a sophisticated example of playing the person rather than the ball.
Second, the response shows no attempt to understand the content of an opposing party's argument, or to dismantle it logically, evidentially, and with more acceptable rhetorical skill and flair than being rude and abrasive. Sisulu's performance in parliament on that day was not merely in bad political taste. It was also a master class in irrational and destructive political discourse.
And if you think that the ruling party has a monopoly on this dialogical skills deficit, you are very wrong. Irrationality is found everywhere in our body politic.
Take the Democratic Alliance's Helen Zille in the aftermath of the death of Eugene Terre Blanche. She failed to recognise an opportunity to steal our hearts and minds by showing emotional maturity and imaginative leadership on "the race question". Instead, she went on a tirade about the plight of farmers (as opposed to both farmers and farm workers), warning us, most melodramatically, about "a tidal wave of pent-up rage and frustration". One senior member of one of the mostly Afrikaner civil rights organisations joked with me, in an accurate aside, that Zille's response was less balanced than anything from Afriforum or Solidarity. But this response was hers to make. And perhaps it speaks to her constituency, so we cannot criticise it too harshly.
More importantly, however, is that there is an aspect of this reaction to the murder of Terre Blanche that demonstrated irrationality, too. Zille immediately sought to link the event of Terre Blanche's killing to the singing of a struggle song by Malema, even though the police had barely started their investigation.
Zille's response was not evidence-based. It was mere assertion. And it was an assertion motivated by political opportunism. This is irrational. Only claims that are proportional to the available evidence are worth putting in the public domain - at least if you fancy yourself as someone who respects the rules of logic and reasoned debate.
Why, you might wonder, are we saddled with this shoddy state of political debate? There are at least three reasons.
First, politicians are human. And humans are not logic machines. We are motivated by our most deeply held beliefs, which often colour the way we interpret evidence and influence the manner in which we respond to others.
Second, we do not teach critical thinking and debate in our schools or universities. Only the nerdish among us join a debate club. So our politicians often join parliament never having been taught the hard skills of structured debate and persuasive speaking.
Third, and most importantly, we are still suffering the negative aspects of the legacy of liberation politics. The ANC, as a liberation movement, did not and could not honour the rules of open, deliberative debate as deeply as one hoped it now would as a parliamentary party. Some writers claim otherwise, but this strikes me as exaggeration at best. A few of the leaders of the struggle might have had late-night fireside chats, but in essence the ANC had to operate like an army with an army's top-down approach to decision making. Since the ANC, in turn, dominates our political landscape, we collectively suffer its inability to adapt quickly enough to parliamentary democracy.
One macabre solution is simply to wait for a generational shift to happen; no one lives forever. In the meantime, debate- coaching and critical-thinking classes in parliament might be a good starting point. It will be way more useful than induction processes that simply show members of parliaments the seats in which they will be sleeping for the next five years. We have a massive challenge on our hands.
http://www.timeslive.co.za/local/article408986.ece/National-debate-More-like-the-clash-of-ignorant-armies
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