There is an expression in the English language, often used by employers and their associations to describe a well-known reality in the labour market, that goes something like this: if you pay peanuts, you will end up with monkeys.
It is admittedly a little impolite towards monkeys, but the message is nonetheless apt. If it’s superior quality you want as an employer, you must be willing to put your money where your mouth is.
Take, for instance, the failed negotiations between government and the two unions representing University academic staff. Like all stand-offs between unions and employers, it is far from straightforward. The unions have rightly pointed out that government has failed to renew the university lecturers’ collective agreement since 2003; but at the same time, their own demands - published this week by the Ministry of Finance - are likely to raise a few eyebrows, among a general public which is getting slightly tired of constantly footing the bill for what they perceive to be extravagances.
Judging by initial reactions to the lecturers’ strike this week, a number of people consider the increments demanded by the MUT and UMASA, and which the government claims will cost €140 million over six years, to be precisely that: a luxury which the country can ill afford, at a time of mounting concern over the worsening international financial situation.
And in a sense, it must also be said that this reaction has partly been brought about by the University lecturers themselves: if not the majority, at least those few who have earned themselves a reputation for neglecting their students in favour of other commitments, be they consultancies with the private sector, or even other full-time occupations elsewhere.
But in truth, this dispute involves far more than just disagreement over lecturers’ salaries. It is also indicative of the widening gulf between the rosy impressions created by political rhetoric, and the cold, hard reality on the ground.
Under scrutiny, it turns out that the Finance Ministry was being less than honest when it produced its own version of the unions’ demands. For one thing, the figure of €140 million includes the total salaries – not just the increment demanded – and even then, it was calculated on a gross basis. Secondly, this figure also assumes that all university academic staff would be eligible for their full performance bonuses over those six years: something that is unlikely to happen in reality.
But even without going into so much detail, it is clear at a glance that the government can no longer deliver on the enormous expectations it succeeded in creating before the last elections. We have already seen how the promised income tax reform is unlikely to materialise in the forthcoming budget: and with the government’s proposals for revised water and electricity tariffs this week, popular discontent has reached its highest peak in recent years. All this is ironic for Lawrence Gonzi, who, in the first three years of his administration, succeeded in dispelling much of his predecessor’s reputation for a “money no problem” attitude. He did this so successfully that a majority - admittedly wafer-thin, but still a majority - believed his erstwhile promise to reverse the deficit into a surplus by 2010.
But then, the massive pre-electoral overspending spree (which, it will be remembered, also involved negotiating favourable collective agreements for select segments, such as doctors and nurses)... and suddenly, we are back at square one, with a growing deficit on one hand, and on the other, a government which seems increasingly unable to project the “safe pair of hands” image that won it the 8 March election.
Now, we appear to be a witnessing a scenario in which the government seems reluctant to invest in its own declared mission-statement of “education, education, education”: the main pillar in its own, grandiose plan to transform Malta into a “Centre of Excellence”.
Excellence, however, costs money. And in the current climate, while the lecturers are justified in their complaints, the taxpayer is understandably concerned that the necessary investment, if it comes at all, will be taken directly from their own slice of the pie.
And yet, there are other areas where government can cut costs: this week, the Auditor General’s report on airline ticket procurement revealed an expenditure of almost €7 million in just two years. That is but a tiny fraction of the global amount of taxpayers’ money that might just be better allocated elsewhere.
One trusts the brewing discontent over these and other issues will serve to finally hammer the point home: if you’re going to promise big, one day you will be expected to deliver.