The Fairy Tale of Edmiston Drive

The best fairy tales always contain important morals.

Some of them take trivial items and wrap them into a clever story in which they appear to have special powers. Like the magic lamp with the wish granting genie inside it.

We are never prompted to question how this could be possible; we are just told that this is how it is and for a long time we see the outcomes we are tricked into expecting.

Perhaps it is because the trivial items have been introduced as something so startlingly different from what they actually are, that we are temporarily stunned into suspending our ability to think critically. It just seems to make sense in the context of the story we have been gripped by.

A common technique seems to be to distract our attention with promises of unimaginable extravagance, whilst creating a carefully structured story that we dare not question out of fear the promises won’t come true.

When you think about some of the utter nonsense spun by the owners and officers at Edmiston Drive, which was obligingly passed on by the mainstream media for a number of years, you really have to admire the story telling skills of certain individuals, and deride the childlike gullibility of many others.

It is classic fairy tale stuff.

But when the fairy tale ends, the majority of us recognise that the magic lamp was in actual fact just a rusty old lump of iron. It had no special powers to deliver lasting extravagance or grant flamboyant wishes that would endure beyond the moment.

It was never what it seemed.

Just Because He Has Previous

The Scottish Law Commission has submitted a report which suggests that a fundamental principle of Scots Law is illogical and incoherent, and that it should be changed.

http://www.scotlawcom.gov.uk/news/judges-and-juries-to-hear-of-accused-s-record/

The principle being challenged is that the prosecution cannot use previous convictions to help prove their case against an accused person.

It is based on the belief that in order to ensure that the accused is given a fair trial, his innocence must be presumed until it can be proven otherwise. And the proof must be based on the specific facts of the specific offence.

However English Law differs from Scots Law in that it does permit the use of previous convictions as important explanatory evidence. The case of Peter Tobin has been cited in support of this change:

When Peter Tobin was on trial in England for the murder of Dinah McNicol, the jury were told that Tobin had been convicted for murdering Vicky Hamilton and this fact had been used as evidence to establish his behaviour patterns.

In Scots Law, this would not have been permissible evidence, despite the fact that it helped secure Tobin’s conviction in England. In some quarters, the feeling is that Scots Law needs to change to ensure that its laws are not preventing convictions that otherwise would have been made.

It is argued that how the accused behaved in the past can be relevant to whether he behaved in a similar way in relation to the offence with which he is charged today. In an important sense, this is correct.

People do naturally fall into particular patterns of behaviour, which have a tendency to recur; particularly patterns of behaviour that reflect deep psychological problems or extreme sociopathic preferences.

But I think it is difficult to understand how a past conviction could be used as evidence that the accused committed this particular offence today. Whilst a past conviction may suggest a psychological disposition to a certain type of behaviour, it does not prove that, on this occasion, this offence was committed by this individual.

Nor, as a matter of fact, does it prove a pattern of behaviour actually exists.

Unless, when the previous conviction was made, the existence of a pattern had been correctly established based on even earlier behaviour, the fact that the accused was convicted of an offence in the past must fall short of proving that the individual has a tendency to act in this way.

One instance of behaviour, which it may well have been, does not count as a pattern. Nor does it become a pattern by dint of being held up next to the current offence; it suggests the possibility of a pattern, but only if an assumption has already been made that the past offence was an instance of a behavioural disposition.

And in my view, this is precisely the prejudice that should not be allowed to creep in to our legal system. It would be too easy to make a mistake based on the assumption that if he has done it once, he is more likely to have done it twice.

Nor would it allow for the possibility that the previous conviction was incorrect and that a miscarriage of justice had occurred in the past.

It would be a disaster for our justice system if an individual, who was wrongly convicted in the past, yet was unable to prove his innocence afterwards, was nonetheless assumed to have committed this particular offence today, just because he has previous.

In Response to Dr Gregory Ioannidis – “Rangers FC: Morality or the Law?”

In an interesting post emphasising the distinction between what we believe morality should dictate in dealing with Rangers FC, and what the rules of the SPL oblige, Dr Gregory Ioannidis argues that “morality and belief need to step aside and give their place to law and justice.”

http://bit.ly/JatfoL

There is a sense in which I completely agree with the view expressed in this post, but another sense in which I think his commitment to the distinction between law and morality may be slightly too clinical.

Here is my take on this distinction, from a layman’s point of view.

What counts as a correct application of a particular rule is not defined by individual interpretation. Nor does the correctness of its application depend on a bunch of individual interpretations that just happen to agree.

The correct application of a rule is intrinsic to the practice which defines it and hence it is independent of individual interpretation, preference and emotion. It is a matter of grammar and logic.

In an important sense, this is what guarantees the autonomy of rule governed practices. It secures the independence of rule governed systems from emotional interference or from individual bias and belief.

This is the point up to which I agree with Dr Gregory Ioannidis.

But this is where I think it begins to get muddy.

It is one thing to hold that the autonomous nature of rules means their correct application is independent of individual interpretation and everything that entails about perspective, preference and predilection.

It is another thing to infer from this that their autonomy precludes definitional dependency on other systems of rules sitting adjacent to them within our logical space of reasons.

The complex patterns of human behaviour that embody a culture, a tradition, or a practice form the bedrock of our definitions and explanations. As Wittgenstein would put it, they constitute the interlocking forms of life that give meaning to our concepts and application to our rules.

Much of their complexity consists in their interconnectedness. They do not stand alone as isolated practices, giving sense and meaning to equally isolated systems of concepts and rules.

So I agree with the point that what counts as the correct application of legal rules must be independent of an individual’s (or even a large group’s) personal belief about what ought to happen on any given occasion. We cannot allow anger, frustration or outrage to interfere with the correct application of rules.

But I think it is also important to reflect on the fact that certain concepts which figure at the heart of our legal system, such as justice and fairness, are grammatically tied to concepts critical to our understanding of what is morally right or wrong.

And the same applies when it comes to applying the rules that govern a particular sport.

To me this means that we can recognise the important role of morality in shaping law, without thereby reducing law to morality and morality to individual preference (which would very quickly lead to anarchy).

But I think it also means that we can find a legitimate way of including more than just a ‘touch’ of morality in forming and applying the rules that govern particular sporting enterprises, such as the SPL.

The Unsustainable Game

Football commentator Stuart Hall is often credited with having coined the phrase, ‘the beautiful game’.

He is said to have used it first in reference to the Northern Ireland footballer Peter Doherty, when he was playing for Manchester City.

When Manchester City won the Premier League on Sunday, they did so having spent around £1.5bn in four years and having recorded a loss of just under £200m in the past year, most of which was bankrolled by the personal wealth of the club’s Abu Dhabi based owners.

Sheikh Mansour is now four years into his ten year plan to transform Manchester City into a club that is capable of dominating European football for many years to come.

When UEFA’s new financial fair play rules come into effect, which certain football clubs are likely to challenge in court, clubs will be required to break even on their balance sheets, with a couple of years grace during which they will be able to record a maximum loss 45m Euros per financial year.

Clubs like Manchester City may be able to reduce their annual operating losses significantly through enjoying substantial increases in European prize money and television income, or they may find a way of introducing more of Sheikh Mansour’s money into the club as a form of income.

But what happens when these clubs fail to reach the final stages of the Champions League, or when their wealthy owners withdraw their financial support, which they will, at some stage? And in the meantime, what happens to the rest of the clubs?

Whilst some supporters are luxuriating in the temporary glory delivered by their club’s debt fuelled successes, others are lamenting their club’s rapid decline from former title challengers to relegation strugglers. They simply cannot afford to keep the pace any longer.

Ordinary football clubs, those without billionaire owners, but who are fortunate enough to have large supporter bases spread throughout the world, are in a slightly better position than the majority of others who struggle because of these limitations.

Getting their globalisation strategy correct is important. Ensuring that it compliments their youth development strategy is absolutely critical. But there is still no guarantee of success and there is still an unbridgeable chasm between their financial standing and that of the wealthy elite.

Billionaire owners, unevenly distributed television income, ridiculous transfer fees, astronomical salaries, enormous debts and uncompetitive leagues are crippling football. Only the elite will be able to compete. The rest will just be there to make up the necessary numbers.

Football clubs firmly embedded in their local communities, with long and enviable histories, were once the heart and soul of the game. The ones which just happen to be ripe for billionaire exploitation are transforming themselves into debt fuelled global juggernauts. Heartless machines that have lost touch with their histories in order to fire a stranger’s ambitions.

If the global financial crash of 2008 is anything to go by, this is just another massive bubble waiting to burst. But it won’t just be a financial crash.

It will be a sociocultural crash falling swiftly on the heels of a psychological crash, the type that results from realising that you have nowhere to fall when you have spent the preceding years subconsciously distancing yourself from your historical identity (and for no other reason than to satisfy someone else’s temporary drive for publicity and self-promotion).

It is a very subtle form of exploitation that UEFA’s financial fair play rules may be powerless to prevent.

The correction process will be brutal.

It will see many clubs disappear from their local communities.

It will see others hanging on, but with a depressing realisation of how good things used to be – before their glamorous transformation, the very thought of which they just could not resist.

The beautiful game is rapidly facing up to the fact that it is actually the unsustainable game.

Who or What Defines Sporting Integrity?

Albert Camus wrote that what he knew most surely about morality, he owed to sport.

Camus was an author, philosopher and amateur footballer (he played in goals for the University of Algiers).

He held the view that political groups, religious bodies and other similar authorities, tend to create moral systems and frameworks that impose artificial and overly complex values on our lives, typically to suit their own ends and purposes.

Whereas he believed that a more simplistic sense of morality could be forged through resilient participation in basic human activities and practices. A sense of collective purpose, work ethic, bravery, discipline and fair play, characterise playing in a football team, for example, just as much as they give a sense of meaning to our own individual lives.

Building our idea of morality from the ground up as opposed to receiving it from external ‘authorities’ is the best we can hope for, according to this way of thinking. And there is a strong sense in which this view appeals to me.

But there is a problem with it, which the analogy with football highlights perfectly: it would be one thing to cultivate a sense of collective purpose among a group of naturally individualistic thinkers; it would be another thing entirely to use this as a foundation for morality, especially when our individualistic preferences rarely leave us.

There are too many instances of cheating and rule-breaking, bias and discrimination, self-indulgence and psychological egoism in football, as in the vast majority of human activities, that it hardly serves this purpose well. But on the other hand, Camus does seem to have a point regarding the artificiality and tendency to bias inherent in the alternative approach.

So the question we are left with is this: through which source do we come to understand the values of honesty, equality, fairness and integrity that are assumed to sit at the heart of sport, morality and life? Who or what defines them?

If we define these values through engaging in basic human activities and practices, they become susceptible to individualistic preference; if we have them imposed on us through external authorities, they become susceptible to authoritarian bias and corruption.

When we talk about upholding the value of integrity in sport, how do we know that our understanding of integrity is authentic; how do we know that our sense of integrity is not in some way tainted by our own individual preferences, particularly in football, when individual preferences are partly definitive of the competition itself?

Do we rely on the relevant authorities to define integrity in terms of the notions of fair play, sportsmanship, transparency and tolerance? Do we assume we understand this definition in a non-circular way? And how do we know that we can rely on footballing authorities not to subtly modify the meaning of integrity, as a direct consequence of their commercial responsibility to maximise revenue in the game?

The crux of the problem is that if you try to define the notion of sporting integrity from a vantage point within the system that it is supposed to regulate, it comes under pressure from competing and contradictory demands. If you try to define it from outside that system, there is a danger that the definition will fail to cope with the complexities that emerge from within the system.

It is incredibly difficult to get out of this tangle.

Our interpretation of what sporting integrity consists in is dangerously close to losing its authenticity whichever way you define it.

And its function as a standard is just as useful as one of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s elastic rulers that shrinks or expands to fit the size of the object it is measuring.

An Embarrassing Milestone

Despite being the only individual convicted for the Lockerbie Bombing, Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed al Megrahi was released on compassionate grounds in 2009 by the Scottish Government.

Megrahi was released from prison almost 1000 days ago because he was suffering from terminal prostate cancer. But he has been kept alive by medication available in Libya, which is not available in the UK.

According to David Cameron, the Scottish Government’s decision to release Megrahi has therefore turned out to be the wrong decision, and an insult to the families of the 270 people murdered. And the Scottish Conservative Party Chief Whip, John Lamont, has weighed in to call it an ‘embarrassing milestone’ for the Scottish Government.

Many will agree with these comments. But opinion is divided. Some might consider these comments to be a rather crass attempt to deflect attention away from many of the unsavoury deals that are made in the complex game of international politics. Megrahi’s case is no different.

The very fact that Megrahi was convicted in the first place, despite crucial evidence apparently being withheld at the time, suggests that the need to find someone (anyone) to blame for the atrocity, was much more important than leaving the case unsolved.

Professor Robert Black, in an interview with The Scotsman newspaper in 2005, called it “the most disgraceful miscarriage of justice in Scotland for 100 years”.

Whether or not Megrahi was guilty, a scapegoat had to be found. But the fact that he was subsequently released on compassionate grounds is a reminder of how far this, and previous Governments, have been prepared to go to make deals that served their own private interests and agendas.

The Scottish Government claims to have made the decision according to the principles of Scots Law. If due process was followed, then fair enough. But whether the medical grounds for his release were sound is another question entirely.

Something doesn’t feel right about the whole situation.

The circumstances surrounding Megrahi’s release come dangerously close to either implying that a mistake was made in the original conviction, or that serious pressure was being exerted from other countries to ensure that, come what may, he was not left to die in a Scottish prison.

Either way, it was a huge gamble for the Scottish Government to take.

Despite Cameron’s public criticism of the decision, 1000 days later, I find it quite difficult to believe that the UK Government would not have intervened much earlier in the process, had it strongly opposed Megrahi’s release at the time.

It is just too convenient to argue that the decision was outside the jurisdiction of the UK Government and that it had no choice but to accept that it was a decision solely for the Scottish Government to make. I am sure that the UK Government would have found a way of blocking the move, had it so wished.

And now that the core assumption on which the gamble was predicated has not transpired, politicians throughout the country are lining up to criticise and ridicule the Scottish Government’s decision.

But the ‘embarrassing milestone’ is not so much that Megrahi has not yet died from his terminal illness.

The embarrassing milestone is that almost one quarter of a century later, the truth about this case has still not come out, for whatever reason, and the wider network of people behind the bombing have still not been brought to justice.

A Subtle Dilution of Responsibility?

“Our guiding principle is that we will do what is in the best interests of Celtic Football Club and our supporters, consistent with upholding the interests and reputation of Scottish football.”

This is a very ambiguous statement.

However it is designed to look as if it were a clear indication of intent to reassure Celtic supporters that the club is closely monitoring the situation and is prepared to make tough decisions when the time is right.

Arguably, at one level, it is a clear indication of intent; it is a clear indication that the board will make a decision that is in the best interests of Celtic FC, its supporters and the rest of Scottish football.

But it does not reveal exactly how the board’s guiding principle will inform any decisions they go on to make, nor does it clarify exactly how that principle will be translated into a specific course of action based on these decisions.

No single football club can operate in splendid isolation. That is a fact.

There are commercial dependency relationships at so many levels throughout Scottish football that will be taken into consideration, in addition to the firm belief that sporting integrity must be restored. That is also a fact.

The decision will come down to how these facts are interpreted and how beneficial a particular interpretation is made to look by the relevant authorities.

It is one thing to say that a specific course of action is the right one to take, all things considered. It is another thing to say that a specific course of action is the right one to take, unconditionally.

Celtic’s statement suggests that the guiding principle may inform a decision of the former type.

Many people may be prepared to accept the necessity of this approach.

But many others will feel that this would be a subtle dilution of responsibility, whilst appearing to do the right thing by the rest of Scottish football.

Two Experiments

Deregulation in the banking industry was an experiment in wealth creation.

It appeared to work extremely well for a number of years and almost everyone benefitted in some shape or form. In the end it failed spectacularly. It left an incredible mess in its wake.

Sadly, however, the UK Government’s refusal to deviate from its current package of austerity measures in response to this catastrophic failure tells us much more about where their true interests and allegiances lie, than it does about their commitment to restoring stability and creating sustainable growth in the economy.

The budget deficit and national debt did not spiral out of control because of legitimate state spending, which the UK Government is now restricting beyond necessity; it spiralled out of control as a result of bailing out years of reckless gambling and lending in the banking and property sectors, which previous Government policy permitted and positively encouraged.

Had the experiment proven successful, there would have been enormous benefits for the UK economy and for the country’s prestige and standing in international markets. But it failed. It was nothing more than debt built on more debt, built on even more debt. The outcome was inevitable.

There is a parallel here with Scottish football:

David Murray’s reckless spending at Rangers was an experiment to create the most successful football team in Europe. People bought into his vision. They believed in it whole heartedly. The media spun his story exactly as he wanted. No questions were asked.

His experiment was supported through a combination of excessive borrowing, share issues, private investment, and the use of employee remuneration schemes that enabled Rangers to buy and retain a significantly higher calibre of player than anyone else. It was debt, built on more debt, built on even more debt.

And no doubt the relevant governing bodies in Scottish football would have been more than happy to oversee this experiment with a very light-touch approach, eagerly anticipating the enormous benefits and international standing its success would have delivered for the game in this country.

David Murray’s experiment did bring a certain amount of success for a number of years, but never to the extent envisaged. In the end it failed spectacularly. In its wake it left a trail of debt, destruction and devastation, the true extent of which was ignored or kept hidden for quite some time, and has only recently started to become clear.

What we have come to recognise with regards to the UK Government’s promotion of austerity measures is that, whilst steps certainly did have to be taken to reduce wastage in public spending, the real culprit of the piece was the Government’s flawed wealth creation experiment and everything associated with it.

With regards to Scottish football, we have come to recognise that the real culprit of the piece was David Murray’s disastrous and self-indulgent experiment to create the most successful team in Europe, when it was completely unaffordable for him to do so.

And this is where the parallel lines diverge:

Whereas as the UK Government needs to resist the temptation to impose heavy duty austerity measures on public spending and hope that economic growth is sufficiently stimulated by the private sector, the relevant authorities in Scottish football need to resist the temptation to impose light weight sanctions on Rangers because they fear that our game would be financially crippled otherwise.

So perhaps the right thing to do would be to swap strategies. But there is an underlying reason why neither would be in a rush to do this. Despite their fatal errors, there is still a cultural belief in the commercial need for Rangers in the SPL, and a perception that the Banks can generate significant wealth and prestige for the economy.

And at the end of the day, when survival matters, money usually talks louder than morals.

Scottish Football’s Drift Towards Utilitarianism

I have been thinking about how the decision to allow a new Rangers FC to remain in the SPL would not come into conflict with the idea that sporting integrity is intrinsically valuable to Scottish football.

The only answer I can come up with is that Scottish football must be drifting towards some kind of utilitarian account of ethics.

When faced with a difficult decision or a troubling moral dilemma, a utilitarian account of ethics will define the right course of action in terms of its potential to create the greatest amount of good outcomes, and minimise the number of bad ones.

Utilitarianism is about deciding which action produces the best outcome for the majority of people concerned, rather than trying to decide whether an action is intrinsically right or wrong.

Now, should the SPL Chairmen decide that the right thing to do would be to allow a new Rangers FC to remain in their league, because the consequences of not making this decision would be financially disastrous for the majority of clubs concerned, they will have done so by adopting a utilitarian style of ethics.

One of the problems with utilitarianism is that its focus on outcomes as justifiers leaves open the possibility that a course of action may be promoted as the one which will lead to the greatest good, and therefore deemed the right thing to do, despite having stemmed from completely selfish motives.

In other words it becomes possible to accommodate a selfishly motivated course of action within what would appear to be an otherwise respectable moral space; and then it begins to seem obvious how the notion of sporting integrity would not come into conflict with a new Rangers FC in the SPL.

The answer is simple: the option of taking a course of action described as ‘upholding sporting integrity’ would be ethically managed out of the picture. On the utilitarian understanding of morality, equating ‘sporting integrity’ with ‘punishing a new Rangers FC’ would completely miss the point.

There would simply be no room for it within this moral space, because punishing a new Rangers FC would lead to an outcome inconsistent with achieving the greatest good for the majority of clubs concerned. So there would be absolutely no option but to eliminate this course of action as a moral contender at all.

And there we have it. No conflict.

But here is the sting with utilitarianism –

If you ethically manage the notion of ‘sporting integrity’ out of the picture, for the sake of the greater good, you need to be mindful that many of the beneficiaries of the greater good may not inhabit the same moral space of reasons and may completely disagree with the decision.

If they decided to remain true to their own moral space and refused to spend their money on their clubs next season, the SPL Chairmen’s decision to act for the greater good, as they calculated it, would turn out to be a serious error of judgement.

It is extremely difficult to predict how people are going to respond to major decisions like this one. It is completely new territory. The drift into utilitarianism may help the SPL chairmen feel better about looking after their short term financial interests at the point of making this decision, but it could end up being a financial and a moral disaster in no time at all.

By which point it would be too late to drift back towards the idea that ‘sporting integrity’ should somehow figure more prominently within their moral space of reasons.

It is one hell of a gamble to take.

A False Dichotomy

It has been argued that if Rangers, in some shape or form, is permitted leave to remain in the SPL without any significant sanctions for their past misdemeanours, Celtic supporters will protest by boycotting away games to the detriment of the financial health of the entire league.

On the other hand, it has also been argued that if significant sanctions are imposed, Rangers supporters will protest by taking the very same course of action, with the very same result.

And thus it is believed that the SPL is facing an impossible decision. Whichever decision it takes, it is feared that the outcome will be financially disastrous. Indeed, followed through to its conclusion, either course of action could signal the end of Scottish football as we know it.

A false dichotomy is offered when it is argued that there are only two options available, neither of which are particularly palatable, but one of which, so the arguer will suggest, would be so damaging that we really need to accept his preferred option.

Should the SPL decide against imposing further significant sanctions, it would not be too inaccurate to think that they believe that the lesser of the two evils would be dealing with the boycott by Celtic supporters, rather than face the wrath of Rangers supporters.

In other words, they would be taking what they consider to be a calculated gamble: they would be assuming that it would be easier to encourage Celtic supporters back, than deal with the impact of banishing Rangers to Scottish footballing wilderness for the next few years.

This is the direction we would be pushed in if we were asked to accept that it would be better not to punish Rangers any further.

But it is a neat psychological confidence trick wrapped up in what would appear to be a choice between only two options: financial ruin for all concerned, or a gentle slap on the wrists to safeguard the future of our game.

A false dichotomy is often used when the arguer wants to avert our attention away from the existence of other possible solutions. It may take some creative thinking, and perhaps a strong dose of courage, but other solutions are always possible.

A false dichotomy is usually a scare tactic designed to secure an outcome that looks less than desirable to those who need to accept the choice and get on with it. And more often than not, a false dichotomy points towards a concealed preference; it’s just that they cannot come out and say as much.