Early in the second series of The West Wing writer Aaron Sorkin decides to have his Democrat President Bartlett employ a Republican lawyer, Ainsley Hayes, as a plot device to show that whilst political opponents can disagree they nevertheless are principled, decent people (if only politics was undertaken in that spirit in the present day and in the real world).
When asked by one of Bartlett’s Democrat political appointees why the Republican has chosen to work with and for her political opponents Hayes says that she feels being called to serve is her ‘duty’.
The concept of duty is a constant theme in Sorkin’s universe. Elsewhere when Hayes (again) is in a scene discussing which Gilbert & Sullivan operetta is about duty she notes “They’re all about duty”.
Duty, the dictionary definition being “a moral or legal obligation; a responsibility.” is a concept we talk too little of these days. The idea that in return for a social security safety net, education and health services we have obligations too has become an alien concept to countless younger people. It appears that for many tax and public services have become a transactional relationship rather than a concept aligned to moral obligation.
Earlier this year YouGov polling of Generation Z (young people aged 18-27) for The Times revealed just 11% of young Britains would be prepared to fight for their country in the event of war. (Albeit as history has shown that low number is probably soft when the country is actually facing the threat of combat.)
But it is undoubtedly the case that the concept of standing for a greater national purpose, you may call it ‘duty’, is one on the wain amongst young people in the face of individual rights.
The evidence on going to war is somewhat hypothetical. It is easy to say you are not prepared to do something when you are not facing an ultimatum, but the economic impact of individualism is a very real one.
Research undertaken by the Centre for Social Justice (and reported on in The Times) has today revealed the potential impact of persistent school absence. The think tank reports that almost 180,000 pupils are set to leave school and fall into unemployment or long-term economic inactivity as a result of persistent absence, at a lifetime cost to the taxpayer of £14 billion.
Although days lost have taken a slight dip since the height of the pandemic they continue to far outstrip the position prior to 2020 with more than 6 out of every 100 pupils being off on a typical school day. More than 2% of pupils were missing at least half of school sessions throughout the autumn 2024 term.
There is, of course, a well-documented link between school attendance and qualifications that correlates with employability, lifetime potential income, health and housing outcomes. Missing school persistently has a long term impact on all of these with their cost ultimately being paid by the taxpayer. This is where duty comes in.
We know that young people have had a tough time over the past few years. There is a real mental health crisis experienced by thousands of children (and exacerbated by the world of smart phones and social media).
But we also know from a quick trawl of that same social media, particularly TikTok, of the parents who demand to take their children out of school on holiday, or complain that they are punished for seemingly minor infractions of the rules.
Far too often it is about their rights and not their responsibilities.
In a representative democracy we expect our government to provide when we need assistance, to keep us secure, and deliver high quality universal services. But in having those expectations we have our obligations too. That is the social contract.
Gilbert & Sullivan, and to be fair the whole of Victorian society, understood and taught the importance of duty.
Perhaps the greatest failing of our digital age, and I appreciate I may be coming across as a grumpy old man, is that we are in danger of forgetting it.