The political culture of a country can be seen from conditioned reflexes. Sunday, Gianni Morandi, a more 'old economy' character who however managed to perfectly transfer his popularity on social media, had the good idea of publishing a photo of himself with shopping bags. There is no more normal, more reassuring, more sugary image: a husband accompanying his wife to the supermarket. He had never done that. The Emilian singer found himself under a hail of insults and trade union claims. His followers and "friends" (in the Facebookian sense of the term) have reproached him for having no respect for employees forced to work on the Lord's day.
These days, which aren't beautiful, it's impressive to see such a unanimous chorus pitying those who have a job, rather than worrying about those who would like to have one and can't find it. This is the answer we would have suggested to Morandi, who instead covered his head in ashes and, taken by surprise by such a virtually vehement reaction, guaranteed that he would never go shopping on Sunday again.
The number and tone of the comments would have surprised even us. If ever there were a need, they are the signal of the link between how people see the world and the laws by which they allow themselves to be bound. From reform to reform, from Bersani to Monti, we had reached the liberalization of shop openings: one of the few real measures of economic freedom in recent years, which does not oblige anyone to keep them open, but allows merchants to better tune their schedules and the availability of potential customers. Perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise that Parliament is now already reintroducing, under strong pressure from a harlequin coalition of interest groups ranging from small traders to trade unions to cassocks, some mandatory closing days.
This little story is, for all of us, very instructive. It demonstrates how difficult it is in Italy to see things from the point of view of the interest that most closely approximates everyone's interest: that of consumers.
He festive openings are looked at from the exclusive point of view of those who already have a job in the trade, their prohibition can be a relief: a few more hours to spend at home with loved ones. But society is made up of many more people and many more needs: those, for example, of a mother who works and no longer knows who to give the remains to, of a large family whose schedules are difficult to reconcile, of a tourist who visits an Italian city at the weekend and would not like to be welcomed by an army of lowered shutters, a single man who works all day and reserves the shopping for meals at unusual hours, and so on.
The freedom - not the obligation - to keep a business open creates exchange opportunities, which ultimately are also employment opportunities: because there are also people for whom working on Sundays can be by far the best option, given the available alternatives. Maybe I'm not a fan of Gianni Morandi, but they exist.
