Over the last week, a life has been reduced to a case study. The details of the short, troubled life of Daniel McAnaspie have been laid out in the public domain. Everything, from examples of his writing as a child, to the extent of his dependence on alcohol, has been thrust out for public consumption.

In life, neither his parents nor the state were in a position to provide him with the essential nurturing that all children require. In death, he has been robbed of any modicum of privacy. Who among us would be happy to have the minor, personal details of our lives opened up for perusal and judgement by anybody and everybody?

Daniel McAnaspie is now Daniel to the wider public. His name is routinely prefaced with the word "tragic". The reaction to his violent death and the detailing of his life apparently hit a genuine emotional chord with the wider public.

Were he still alive and in possession of a wry sense of humour, he would now be laughing his head off. The kid who was shunted from pillar to post as he thrashed around in an unmanageable life, has become a media star. Where once he ghosted through the state care system, now he has evoked frantic concern in everybody from the Taoiseach down through the Dáil and into the HSE. In life, those encountering him on the streets would most likely have hurried past him. A teenager abusing substances is typecast as a gurrier. Now, his plight has evoked sympathy the country over.

How real is the sympathy? In societal terms, is it the tears of a crocodile that are being shed?

Daniel McAnaspie was six years of age in 1999 when the Children First document was launched. This is the best practice approach to the protection and care of children. If implemented, it represents a statement that the state – and by extension society – takes seriously its commitment to protect the most vulnerable.

Eleven years later, Children First has still not been placed on a statutory footing. In the interim, there has been all manner of hullabaloo at various stages about proposed or existing legislation. Included in assorted controversies were the smoking ban in pubs, tax individualisation, lowering the drink-driving limit, a proposal to bring back third-level fees, and you can pick another half dozen yourself.

These were the issues that exercised the political and media classes, largely in reaction to views expressed by the body in the country which constitutes the electorate. These were the issues that informed public debate. These were the concerns brought to constituency clinics, and whispered into the ears of politicians.

A few voices went hoarse from shouting in the wilderness. Those who work with vulnerable children and the odd politician who has an interest in the area, tried to be heard. It was no use. The din coming from vested interests – and large swathes of the electorate – drowned out any concern for those who couldn't make their own noise. Almost everybody had other priorities, usually around their own financial wellbeing.

The economy was already taking off when Children First was launched. A few years later, Mary Harney would tell us that the country was awash with money. Through those years, the services for vulnerable children continued to be stretched to breaking point.

There was plenty of money for other things. Take your pick. Electronic voting, PPaRS, Charlie McCreevy's local racetrack, horses and dogs, benchmarking, SSIAs, decentralisation, myriad tax breaks and on it goes. Money was fired at those who shouted loudest. Priority was given to pals of the government and sections most likely to influence the next election.

In the eight years between 1999 and 2007, child benefit increased fourfold. During the same period, the money wasn't there to ensure that every vulnerable child be assigned a social worker, a basic requisite of proper care. Through much of that time, Daniel McAnaspie, and hundreds like him, were shunted around a care system that simply couldn't meet their needs. No vested interests with influence were banging on the door of government buildings on their behalf.

The problems in the HSE can also be traced to political priorities. Much of the dysfunction in the executive is down to a structure which involves gross duplication, which begets an ass-covering culture. That is largely due to the government's decision that nobody be made redundant when the HSE took over from 11 health boards in 2004.

The unions would have kicked up, and Bertie Ahern couldn't have had that. Instead, the executive has had to endure a chaotic first few years. In such an environment, it is services like child protection and mental health which inevitably suffer the greatest neglect.

That is the political culture that failed Daniel McAnaspie, and those whom the state has pledged to nurture through childhood. The government certainly abrogated its responsibility. The people, or more precisely, the electorate, were given what they wanted. Those who shouted the loudest received the most. Focus groups were asked by pollsters what exactly would make them happy. The plight of children in care didn't feature. And neither will it feature in the next general election.

In the meantime, people are upset over the fate that befell Daniel McAnaspie. What happened to him, and what is still the lot of hundreds of others, is a scandal. But it would appear to be one that society can live with.

mclifford@tribune.ie