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The movie In the Loop, released last summer in the cinemas and on DVD last week, is the successor to Armando Ianucci’s 2005 television series The Thick of It (the subject of my post last March 13). The series received considerable recognition when initially released, then was cancelled after its costar, Chris Langham, who played a cabinet minister, was convicted and served time for possessing child pornography - no, I’m not making this up.

The television series is the latest instance of the dominant fable of modern British politics, established three decades ago by the classic television series Yes Prime Minister. In this view, politicians and public servants are entirely and narrowly self-interested, and for them the quaint notion of public interest has no meaning, except as a pretext for power seeking.

The Thick of It, spoofing Blairite government, focused on the adversarial relationship between Secretary of State for Social Affairs Hugh Abbott and the prime minister’s Communications Director Malcolm Tucker. Their main concern was how policies, or more often policy gimmicks, would play in the media. Tucker, played by Scots actor Peter Capaldi, was a bespoke bully - expensively suited, spouting an inexhaustible stream of violent and profane invective.

The movie is also squarely within the dominant fable of public sector self-interest, but the context is considerably different. A hapless minister, Simon Foster, makes an unscripted reference to a war in the Middle East being “unforeseeable,” which puts him at odds with evolving United States and British government policy. The reference, of course, is to the Iraq war of 2003, when the Britain Government joined George Bush’s “coalition of the willing.”

Minister Foster is sent to Washington to meet with the Americans, and followed by Malcolm Tucker. The movie then focuses on the mid-ranks of the American bureaucracy: two feuding assistant secretaries of state - one a dove and the other a hawk - and a general. The president, prime minister, and senior cabinet secretaries or ministers on either side are never seen, nor are any senior advisers other than Tucker.

The rest of the plot involves jockeying for influence among these mid-level players. The ultimate decision to go to war is made at a higher level, unseen in the movie. Thus, the movie’s title, “In the Loop,” can be read satirically, because, as my title for this post implies, none of the characters encountered in the movie are in the loop where the real decisions are made.

There was considerable difference of opinion among movie critics regarding the effectiveness of this narrative. A.O. Scott, in The New York Times on July 24, 2009, wrote that “The audience is likely to die laughing. While “In the Loop” is a highly disciplined inquiry into a very serious subject, it is also, line by filthy line, scene by chaotic scene, by far the funniest big-screen satire in recent memory.” He concluded that “the people in whose hands momentous decisions rest are shown - convincingly and in squirming detail - to be duplicitous, vindictive, small-minded, and untrustworthy. But why should they be any different from the rest of us?”

In contrast, Anthony Lane, in the New Yorker on July 27, 2009, wrote that “by the end of the film, you just want to get away from these people” and “for the makers of “In the Loop,” everyone in politics is either a beast or a dithering dolt, there is no basis for public service other than the foaming rage for power, and anyone who dares to dream otherwise - anyone who enjoys ‘The West Wing’ for example - is the most credulous mug of all.”

I side with Lane. Compared to Yes Minister, the characters lack the wit, elegance, and occasional (if accidental) effectiveness of Sir Humphrey Appleby and Prime Minister Jim Hacker. Tucker’s profanity, initially inventive, quickly becomes tiresomely predictable. What’s more, when temporarily transplanted to Washington, he ceases to be a key player in any loop that really matters. His presence and his profanity are no longer expressions of power. He can swear all he wants: he too is ignored.

The other characters have all the flaws Scott enumerates, with no saving virtues. They are entirely unlikeable. And, interestingly, the actors chosen were as physically unappealing as they were morally repellant. Like Lane, by the end of the movie I too simply wanted to get away from them.

Would I use this movie in my narratives courses? No, I wouldn’t. It simply reinforces the bias most business students have against the public sector. The dominant fable about government in the UK in recent years has become ever more shrilly jaded and cynical. It is the exact opposite of the idealistic wish fulfillment of some American narratives such as “The West Wing” or its precursor “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” Both these fables are equally unrealistic, and I prefer narratives that portray the public sector with more complexity, ambiguity, and subtlety. Some of them - Advise and Consent, The Candidate, Seven Days in May, City Hall and Charlie Wilson’s War - have been discussed in my posts over the last few months. These hold a clearer mirror up to governmental life, and I would rather direct my students’ eyes and minds to them.

Toronto transit riders are facing a fare increase at year-end and, because tokens are undated, the TTC has reduced their availability, thereby generating long queues and consternation on the part of riders.

By way of personal disclosure, I should say that I’ve seen this scenario played out often enough to know what was coming, so when I saw the first mention in the newspaper of possible fare increases I began hoarding. And last Sunday afternoon, despite the sign on the ticket booths indicating token sales were limited to five to a customer, a helpful agent was willing to sell me ten. I now have a cache of 23 tokens, which should be sufficient for my infrequent TTC trips over the next six weeks.

Recalling the TTC’s own slogan, is there a better way? Let me suggest two.

The first would be for the TTC simply not to restrict the sale of tokens, accept that there will be some loss of revenue due to hoarding, and recognize that it is the inevitable cost of maintaining good customer relations. That is what Canada Post does by selling perpetual (P) stamps valid at any time, rather than requiring customers to buy additional stamps every time rates go up.

A second solution would be to adopt better, more flexible pricing technology. Twenty-five years ago - that’s right, twenty-five years ago - I was in Hong Kong and saw how their subway system used what were called Common Stored Value Tickets. You bought a ticket for a certain value, and on every trip the automated card readers would deduct the price of that trip, until the ticket was used up. If the TTC had such a system today, fare changes would be easily implemented by increasing the amount deducted from the card on the day the new fares come into effect.

From a broader public policy perspective, I don’t think ever-increasing transit fares are the way to go. The better way would be to increase transit ridership and decrease automobile traffic in the core. The best way to do that, as has been demonstrated in London and Stockholm, is through an area pricing scheme, where road tolls are used to fund improvements in the public transit system. At the limit, I’d even support making transit free to riders, and fund it entirely through road tolls.

Highway 407 was an early foray into leading edge road tolling, so the technology exists right in our own backyard.

Let’s see if next year’s mayoral candidates are far-seeing enough to embrace these ideas. The one least likely to do so is the unimaginative stuffed shirt John Tory, who in the 2003 mayoral campaign even went so far as to set up a website attacking David Miller’s willingness to contemplate road tolls. Maybe next time will be different.

As the Government of Canada rolls out its Economic Action Plan, I have two projects that, as far as I can tell, are not under consideration for funding. In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I’ve visited both several times with my children, and we’ve talked about how to improve these two museums.

The Canadian Air and Space Museum (casmuseum.org) is on the site of the former Downsview airport in suburban Toronto. The museum is smaller than the Canadian Aviation Museum in Ottawa, but offers a different perspective, focusing its attention on the aircraft manufacturers, particularly De Havilland and A. V. Roe, which were both located in Toronto. It contains the only full-size replica of the Avro Arrow as well as a Canadian-built World War II Lancaster bomber that a group of dedicated amateur machinists is laboriously refurbishing.

The museum is attempting to raise $2 million in funds for a major expansion to highlight the role of the different manufacturers. The website contains a pitch from actor Harrison Ford, proclaiming the virtues of Canadian designed and manufactured aircraft, such as the Twin Otter.

I would have thought supporting the museum would readily appeal to the Harper government. It’s in multicultural northwest Toronto, an area where the Conservatives would like to make inroads. It would send messages about government support for manufacturing and for Canada’s armed forces. Yes, the Avro Arrow exhibit criticizes John Diefenbaker, the PM who decided to kill the Arrow, but I would hardly think the current-day Conservative Party - less than a decade old - considers itself accountable for Dief’s decisions half-a-century ago.

The second project is the Canadian Automotive Museum, which occupies a 25,000 square foot former dealership in an aging section of downtown Oshawa. The Museum has a superb collection of vintage cars going back to the 1910’s, with a particular emphasis on those manufactured in Canada.

The building is too small so the collection is very crowded. It is also in poor shape, for example the heating is insufficient for it to be comfortable in the winter. If the museum were in better shape, or in a better location, it could display its collection in the context of the history of Canadian automobile manufacturing, and launch a discussion about the economic, social, and environmental impacts of the automobile.

Developing this museum would also appear to be a no-brainer. The local MP is Conservative Finance Minister Jim Flaherty. The museum is about a vital part of Canada’s industrial heritage, which would appeal to the government’s values. So why, in this case as well, isn’t funding from the Economic Action Plan available? Isn’t the museum’s board knocking on the door of their powerful local MP? If they are, why isn’t that MP speaking up for his constituents?

Both these museums are about important chapters in our industrial heritage, and spending stimulus money on them would be a great idea. I hope it happens.

With the sequel to Wall Street currently in production, I want to look back at one of the most memorable scenes in the original. Not the famous “greed is good” speech, but rather a scene early in the movie (33 minutes in, chapter 7 on DVD) in which corporate raider Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) convinces his protégé Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) to take up illegal corporate espionage.

Gekko carefully chooses as a setting to make his pitch to Fox his own limousine. Gekko wants Fox to spy on rival corporate raider Larry Wildman as payback for Wildman’s snagging a company Gekko wanted. Breaking the law for the thrill of participating in his mentor’s vendetta doesn’t much appeal to Fox, so Gekko has to be more clever.

Earlier the movie makes it clear that Fox is earning an entry-level stock broker’s income of $50,000 and aspiring to an income of half-a-million (remember, that was in 1985 dollars). Gekko raises Fox’s aspiration level by pointing to a building he claims — without verification, I should add — he flipped a decade before for $800,000 profit, which is now simply “a day’s pay.” He sneers at the guy earning $400,000 as “a working Wall Street stiff, flying first class and being comfortable.” He suggests Bud should be aiming for a net worth of $50 to $100 million, which he describes as being “a player, rich enough to own your own jet, rich enough not to waste time.”

Just as he raises Bud’s aspiration level he reframes his perceived downside. Gekko mentions his own father as “working like an elephant pushing electrical supplies and dropping dead at 49 with a heart attack and tax bills” and contrasts two men on the street, one well-dressed and successful and the other panhandling. Gekko’s implicit message to Bud is that the downside is not respectability, but poverty and misery. Fox would be unlikely to break the law if his choice is between an income of $50,000 and an income of $400,000. But, if posed an all-or-nothing choice between being really rich and being on the street, breaking the law looks more attractive.

When Fox points out that Gekko is asking him to deal in insider information, Gekko reminds Fox that he previously disclosed inside information he got from his father about the airline where he works. Thus Fox has already broken the law. Metaphorically, he’s a little bit pregnant.

Finally, Gekko poses the all-or-nothing choice as dramatically as possible. He asks his driver to pull over and let Fox out. It’s either cooperate with Gekko and ride in the limo or walk on New York’s mean streets. Fox ponders his fate for a few agonizing seconds, then leans over the window and agrees to cooperate: “alright, Mr. Gekko, you got me.” Yes Gekko “got” Fox alright, and it’s clear from Fox’s anxious body language by exactly which part of his anatomy Gekko has got him.

That clip is a cinematic gem that I’d heartily recommend to any instructor teaching motivational theory in psychology. It might be necessary to provide a bit of explanation about the context, but I think the clip stands up pretty well on its own.

Finally, I can’t help but compare Gekko’s ability to persuade the initially-skeptical Fox to break the law to the ability of terrorist organizations to persuade more than a few people of a similar age to be suicide bombers. While the element of revenge — against the Americans and their Afghan or Iraqi or Pakistani or Israeli or Australian allies — is greater, the terrorist leaders also provide a psychological upside in terms of the portrait they paint of life in the afterworld and a material upside in terms of wealth for their families. It’s surprising - and depressing - some of the things some people can persuade other people to do.