I once asked a free-market economist how he would analyse the Irish famine, which is sometimes seen as an example of too much free trade: while people starved, ship-loads of food were leaving Ireland weekly.
“The lesson of the Irish famine is,” quoth he, “never be over-dependent on one crop, or one source.” The single crop on which so many were dependent was, of course, the potato.
I do not know whether this advice always works in practice. There may be situations in which people have no alternative but to depend on one crop. But translated into non-agricultural terms, it’s surely sensible always to have a Plan B, or back-up, to any system.
The cyber-attacks on the NHS computer system last weekend – with more threats in the offing – has surely highlighted our over-dependence on computer electronics. We now do everything by computer. When you try to pay a bill, or renew your driving licence, or buy travel insurance or book a ticket for an event, you will be encouraged to “go online”.
Yes, doing stuff online is often convenient. But it shouldn’t be the only source of communication. Sometimes the best “back-up” to save computerised files is … print and paper.
Whoever was attacking the NHS systems is surely committing a wicked act, putting at risk the health of patients in urgent need of an operation or a diagnosis which may be kept in an on-screen file. There is no “system” ever invented which is not vulnerable to someone, somewhere sabotaging or imperilling it, sometimes for gain, sometimes just for the sheer kick of exerting power.
But even from wicked acts some sense and wisdom may emerge, and the almost compulsory instruction to “go online” may now be softened and adjusted to allow for other options.
There’s been rather too many triumphalist announcements about the onward march of “artificial intelligence” and how robots and algorithms can deal with everything. Oh no they can’t. Man’s flawed nature will soon open up an opportunity for someone, somewhere to do their worst.
Be glad when a white knight comes to the rescue and saves a system. But just the same, don’t let’s put all those eggs in one electronic basket.
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I’m not surprised that gorgeous hunk James Norton – in the role of the Grantchester vicar, the Rev Sidney Chambers – hung up his dog collar at the end of the current series and walked off into the sunset to explore pastures new. (And leaving the parish duties to his curate, Leonard, a repressed gay man trembling on the brink of a nervous breakdown.)
Sidney had been wrestling with a range of conscience issues – from his active sex life with a married woman to feeling hypocritical about his own sermons. There was almost a Graham Greene-like theme of the tormented priest.
And with James Norton’s looks, such a cleric would surely have been a target for every red-blooded woman in the parish. While priests are usually blamed if they yield to temptation, believe me, certain ladies are well able to set their caps at a dishy Rev.
The series was engaging enough – intertwining human dilemmas at the vicarage with sleuthing – and the visual recapturing of the 1950s was often evocative. Although the researchers do slip up: people did not exclaim “s—” in polite company in the 1950s. And when someone died, the immediate relatives always went into mourning clothes.
Should Sidney have chucked in his priestly career just because he didn’t measure up to the ideal? I’m not sure the Christian ideal isn’t to struggle on with one’s shortcomings – “the just man falls seven times seven” – rather than quit.
But that option may be kept in reserve for another series. It’s possible the Rev may, after some reflection, return to his vocation.
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The very holy Jesuit priest Fr John Sullivan was beatified at Dublin’s exquisite St Francis Xavier Church in Gardiner Street last weekend. My uncle was taught by Blessed John at Clongowes college, and had in his possession many kind and encouraging letters from this caring priest. This entire archive was subsequently thrown out by my aunt in one of her manias for “tidying up”. Beware of decluttering spouses!
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