Picture the scene. Sixty sullen young men, most of them in shell suits or sports gear, banded together outside a private home of a TD. They are protesting against the policies espoused by the politician's party. They are angry.

Inside, two young children are terrified at what is unfolding. Their mother left them a while earlier to go on an errand. The children don't know these people outside. All they know is that they feel threatened.

If such a scene were to occur, the gardaí would arrive in jig time, complete with reinforcements and possibly a paddywagon or two. There would be arrests and there would be threats. There would be righteous indignation on the floor of the Dáil. The message would go out. No civilised society is going to put up with that sort of thuggery.

On Saturday 11 July, around 60 farmers protested outside the Lough Egish, Co Monaghan, home of Fianna Fáil TD Margaret Conlon. They are incensed at the proposed cuts in the Rural Environment Protection Scheme, a payment to reward environmentally friendly farming.

Conlon was out and she returned when her daughter phoned her. "I was refused access to my private home, my private property was trespassed upon and my children were terrorised and terrified, particularly my nine-year-old," she said. "We have never experienced anything like this in our home."

The chairman of the IFA in Monaghan, Bert Stewart, refused to apologise for the nature of the protest. He told the Anglo Celt newspaper that two squad cars arrived at the scene but the gardaí had no problem with their protest.

There was no righteous indignation from fellow politicians at the nature of the protest. Farmers, despite recent changes, still have huge political clout in rural Ireland. Nobody wants to tangle with them.

If the protestors had been among the legions of urban young men who are unemployed and facing a bleak future, the reaction would have been totally different. The unemployed may have far greater moral ballast in feeling aggrieved at the government. They may, for instance, feel that cutting the dole by 5%, as recommended in the McCarthy report, is an attack on the most vulnerable. But the moral force of their argument is not the issue. What matters is power, not morality, and in the coming months we are going to see political power exercised by every section of society targeted for cuts.

The mantra being issued by everybody from Brian Cowen down is that the vulnerable must be protected from the cuts outlined in the McCarthy report.

Who defines the vulnerable? The farmers obviously consider themselves highly vulnerable. At a recent Fianna Fáil parliamentary party meeting, a number of backbenchers reportedly let fly. Their primary focus was the cuts to their own allowances. Do they see themselves as the new vulnerable?

Developers, the self-proclaimed nation-builders of yesteryear, are falling like flies. Their spokesman Tom Parlon never gives over with his whingeing, portraying his members as vulnerable victims.

Feelings of vulnerability are not the preserve of the private sector. Many in the public sector claim they also are likely to collapse under the burden they are expected to bear.

Teachers' leaders consistently point out that children are among the most vulnerable in our society. The subtext is that anything which impacts on teachers is an attack on the most vulnerable. This isn't the case, but the spin works.

Right now, most sectors of society are feeling vulnerable. The logic, the reasoning behind these feelings doesn't matter as far as the politics of cutbacks is concerned. All that matters is who can shout the loudest, into the ears of politicians, onto the airwaves, across newsprint. From here on in, power will be used to lubricate sectoral vocal chords as they scream out their vulnerability.

Depending on the tenor of the debate, it is quite likely that the needs of those at the lowest rungs and outer reaches of society are going to get lost amid the noise. Many will suffer in quiet desperation because they do not have access to one of the power centres.

If McCarthy is implemented as proposed, some parents will be forced to see an ailing child go without the proper support services. Others will watch as a child with special needs regresses over time because her classroom no longer accommodates a special needs assistant. Elderly people on social welfare will be inclined to skimp on electricity, which will be taxed, and on medicines that may attract a charge.

These issues impinge hugely on quality of life, but whether or not such cases get priority in the blizzard of lobbying remains to be seen.

After a decade of wanton waste for political ends, it is incumbent on the government finally to act with at least a modicum of moral authority.

Meanwhile, on Thursday, farmers flexed a few more muscles. Four hundred of them protested against agriculture minister Brendan Smith outside a cheese factory in Ballineen, Co Cork. Smith's car was surrounded and damaged. Two gardaí were thrown to the ground. The local superintendent said it was extremely fortunate that nobody was injured.

If another section of society had engaged in this behaviour, it would be described as a riot. Instead, it's seen as things getting a little out of hand. The benign attitude to violent farmers masks what the development really signals, which is the first stirrings of social unrest in a country growing angrier by the day.

mclifford@tribune.ie