How to moderate luxury

Our prime minister is content with his lot, even if life is not always fair. Labour voters do not hail him as king, an acclamation they stubbornly persist in reserving for Joseph Muscat. But, to compensate, Robert Abela is a philosopher, as he demonstrated in his interview with Mark Laurence Zammit.

His is a philosophy of cake. Government is a piece of cake. His recent re-election was a cakewalk. During the campaign, jobs were promised like hotcakes – but, he told our Mark Laurence: “We only hired what was necessary.” As we know, necessity is the mother of invention.

Abela offers practical wisdom for those seeking a temperate life of luxury, like his own. He knows when to let his critics eat cake as well as when to admonish voters carping about a degraded quality of life: “We must accept that, in life, you cannot have the cake and eat it.”

One must not be a glutton. In this best of all possible cakes, the crust is shared equally but the filling is not.

The cherry on the cake? Abela taught his idealistic long-haired interviewer how to distinguish between an impractical utopia – of uncongested roads, adequate infrastructure, reasonable hospital waiting times, safe construction – and a practical developer’s paradise:

“The greatness of the Labour government is that many things that were previously considered luxuries have now become affordable to many people.”

Countries seeking to emulate Malta’s success might wonder what our secret is. A careful study of the interview, combined with assiduous news analysis, suggests an ingenious path.

First, luxury is like charity: it begins at home. Abela was indignant at the state of the country inherited by Labour in 2013. “People were begging for jobs that paid €1,000 monthly.”

Abela did not explain why the incoming Labour government adopted the budget of the outgoing Nationalists. What is salient is his righteous indignation at the discriminating Nationalists: some begging for €1,000, while his law firm – records show – earned €1.2 million, over the course of a decade, from Planning Authority contracts alone.

This discrimination is now being corrected. It is now normal for Labour MPs to double up as CEOs of state authorities, for spouses to receive public contracts and for other persons of trust to have packages, perks and expenses shielded from public scrutiny.

Malicious columnists compare them to Orwell’s pigs. Lies, all lies. They are merely living high on the hog, safe from the prying politics of envy.

Journalists complain. They do not realise that they, too, are enjoying luxury – when given information.

The Chamber of Commerce has also complained. It says there should be a clear line of demarcation between roles. But there is. As CEOs, the MPs do the bidding of government; as MPs, the CEOs make a bid to enter government as ministers. Just watch the career paths.

Journalists complain. They do not realise that they, too, are enjoying luxury – when given information- Ranier Fsadni

Zammit raised another blurring of lines: public sector employees who work only two hours in the morning before going to private-sector jobs, stressing the firms employing them. Zammit was admonished not to generalise. (It happens only in Gozo.)

Which brings us to the second pillar of a life of luxury: it depends on engineered scarcity.

Abela rightly boasts that, under Labour, people want to buy new cars. What better way to enjoy the bucket seats and tinted glass than to sit in traffic for longer?

The standard of living has gone up so much that young people under 30 turned down €25,000 to give up their car licences: cars, previously a luxury, have become a necessity. It takes cunning to engineer that.

People, the prime minister reminded us, are buying more boats. They are also discovering the government has over-promised mooring spots. It is a way to keep the taste for luxury in check: you get the boat; time to dream about a secure mooring.

Abela does not want to discourage dreaming, especially among youth. He wants youth to dream of getting a car and on the housing ladder. He does not specify in which country they get to dream.

Their elders complain as well. They miss the essential philosophy of cake: you cannot have it all. You make choices and then you have trade-offs.

Some of these adults are obtuse. They complain about having had no choice. The residents of Marsascala say they protested the marina right from the start. The residents of Pembroke, St Julian’s (Villa Rosa) and Sliema (Tigné) say they never wanted the high-rise developments stealing their natural light and open spaces. The residents of Naxxar insist they did not sign up for building collapse and threats to neighbouring residences; those of Xemxija never agreed to the impact of excavations on their homes.

What these carping critics miss is that Abela is talking about trade-offs of luxuries. In return for the luxury of choice, they get the luxury of hindsight. They can fruitfully utilise it to appreciate the luxuries of open views, quiet and peace of mind.

The cruellest jibe is one Abela feels deeply. It is when he is criticised for not being a socialist. It is true that his government privatises profits for the few — but it never forgets to socialise the bills.

A conscience is a luxury our philosopher-prince accepts he cannot afford.