WE’VE heard a lot about fairness recently, from George Osborne’s ‘tough but fair’ budget proposals to the clunky Labour election slogan ‘a future fair for all’.

Somehow, I can’t help feeling there’s an underlying negative element in fairness. It seems to figure more prominently when things are being taken away. How often do we hear the infant wail ‘It’s not fair’ when they are being summoned to bed while elder brothers and sisters grab precious extra minutes, or when favourite toys are being put back in their boxes while others continue to play?

Nonetheless, it’s when items are doled out, from treats around the nursery tea-table to national financial benefits, that fairness receives its greatest scrutiny. I guess it comes from an expectation that whatever the status of the individual, gain and pain should be universal.
So, for those in authority – be it parents or politicians, keeping the brood acquiescent relies on judgment akin to that of Solomon, because there’s no louder criticism than that of favouritism and no greater cause of resentment than feeling you’ve been hard done by.

But fairness should not just translate into blanket misery for all. Shortly after GST was introduced, extra measures were put in place to ensure that those who were hardest hit at least had some of the sting taken out of their pain. It was cumbersome, and a not a little confusing, but at least it was an attempt to keep the appearance of balance and fairness.

It is difficult to argue against the justice of supporting the communal coffers by taxing those who earn more. Even so, pensioners, low-paid staff and other key workers facing a pay freeze will undoubtedly feel worse off as a result of across-the-board cuts. Nevertheless, the suggestion of a 30% local levy on those earning £100,000 pa and more might seem incredibly fair by taxpayers in the UK used to having 40% of their earnings clawed away by the taxman when they take home more than £37,000.

However strenuously our local politicians argue the merits of the controversial zero-ten arrangement, in sheer ‘fairness’ terms it falls very short of the mark. In the popular court, it will always be hard to justify taxing local enterprises while overseas establishments trading in identical business contribute nothing to the revenue pot.

The assertion that generous sweeteners are vital to retain inward investors doesn’t wash. There are fewer better locations to operate in, and they know it. They don’t need huge bonuses to keep them here. It’s a matter of judgment by the regulating authority, which has unfair writ all over when applied with the finesse of a builder’s shovel.

How can it be fair, when a petition signed by hundreds of concerned Islanders about the loss of their cherished post office in the Central Market is summarily dismissed with ministerial insistence on viability?

The absurdly suggested alternative ‘creative solutions’ to maintaining a facility which promoted community spirit and allowed loyal patrons – including some with infirmities – to shop as respected adults have been to create hardship for the aforementioned clients while depriving other establishments of vital passing trade. You do have to put effort into being fair and sometimes there is a cost.

From micro to macro, fairness is a universal concept. This year’s BBC Reith lecturer, Professor Martin Rees, posed a poignant question about fairness in the context of absorbing expertise from the developing world.

Science and medicine sucks talent into the West, particularly into the US, on a wave of Obama optimism, leaving local communities bereft of vital support and personnel infrastructure. For the individuals searching to better themselves it appears a great opportunity, but is it fair to those they leave behind?

Having witnessed the furore whipped up on a daily basis against the banking industry and its obdurate bosses, I’d venture it was the perceived unfairness of the persistent award of bonuses while everyone else suffered that generated more public hostility than against the initial incompetence and greed that prompted the crisis.

As with the indignation over the sleaze that oozed out of Westminster from the MPs’ allowances scandal, there’s a greater expectation of fair dealing from those in ‘high places’ of public trust.

So expect little sympathy for the drubbing meted out to the Network Rail bosses pocketing huge bonuses, despite official calls for restraint and mediocre company performance.
We have undoubtedly entered a period of necessary austerity.

The UK has taken the plunge; our own keepers of the public purse have threatened action – though some local politicians remain in denial and continue to insist on pressing ahead with unrealistic capital projects not a million miles from Gas Place. That park saga is a moot point because, as with the removal of lifeguards from Havre des Pas bathing pool, subsequent maintenance and supervision will inevitably fall victim to cuts in revenue budgets.

Cue cries of unfairness that public services are forced to suffer while cash still appears ring-fenced for high-profile capital projects which have a stubborn habit of turning into investments in high-dive profligacy.

Expect a similar response to high-cost public sector appointments or bought-in consultants ‘tasked’ with helping us reduce spending. It may be that fairness is a genuine casualty of hard financial management, but it is the factor upon which motives – if not crude market-place realities – are judged.

Now here’s a coincidence, on the very day UK workers learned they’d be facing the prospect of working till 66 years of age, their French counterparts were on strike over plans to raise their retirement age to 62. So all’s fair in liberty, equality and retirement, isn’t it?
Answers on a carte postale, please.