Sunday Tribune 8 November
I did something last week that I'm ashamed of. I emailed a radio show. I don't usually contact talk shows or write strongly-worded letters to the Times, but my irritation got the better of me.
On Wednesday, Joe Duffy unleashed the hounds on Jim Connolly, author of The Culchie's Guide to Dublin – a book which pokes fun at the capital. Unlike most of the people who ranted on Liveline, I have a copy. In it, Connolly describes Ballyfermot as a crime-ridden dump. Joe is from Ballyfermot. He was "outraged" and ripped Connolly asunder. As his listeners fought over Connolly's body parts, Joe wanted to know where he lived, despite this being flagged in the opening pages.
"Where are you from, Jim?"
"South Dublin."
"Where in south Dublin?"
"Dalkey." Dalkey. This was outrageous: a Dalkey snob demeaning the plain people of Ballyfermot. Joe finished him off by quoting the book's favourable description of Dalkey's, apparently, crime-free status. Cue a barrage of stereotyping about 'southsiders' from his listeners.
For the record, I'm from Dalkey and I know Connolly. I'm not defending him. He set out to be politically incorrect and can suffer the consequences. I'm not endorsing his book either – primarily because it's in competition with a similar book I wrote 10 years ago.
However, I will say that I have less of a problem with Connolly's offensive description of Ballyfermot than I do with Liveline's reaction to it. The outcry illustrated how we are being manipulated by people, like Duffy, peddling victimhood.
Siptu's Jack O'Connor is another victimhood peddlar. On last Monday's Frontline, he accused Pat Kenny of owning a 'trophy' Dalkey home. Whether Kenny is overpaid or not, this was a cheap shot aimed at the union gallery. It was meant to reinforce Siptu's 'them-and-us' philosophy. The hypocrisy behind the jibe is extraordinary. O'Connor also earns a handsome salary – €124,000. That's what the state will have to pay to keep 12 of his members on the dole for a year. And that's where he's leading them, by fostering divisions between the public and private sectors.
Instead of behaving in the national interest, Siptu has been promoting a victimhood culture. The public sector feel victimised by the private because they have to take cuts and levies. The private sector feel victimised because they are paying for the public sector. And so it goes on, until we reach the obvious conclusion: a state of economic civil war.
Meanwhile, on the sidelines are people like Duffy, apparently observing but in reality egging the protagonists on, like he did last Wednesday. He accused Connolly of reinforcing stereotypes – and then hypocritically encouraged his listeners to do just that. Connolly was attacked not just for his comments, but also his address. According to Liveline's world view, all Dalkey-southsiders are spoilt, out-of-touch, snobs. Ironically, this is the same portrayal Connolly's book uses. Joe didn't mention this.
The reality is that the majority of Dalkey southsiders are decent, honest people – just like the residents of Ballyfermot. A small number are wealthy like Pat Kenny, but most are levied middle- and lower-income earners. Some are losing their houses and some have been made redundant.
Liveline has done a lot of praiseworthy work over the years. This was all about Joe though. His home had been insulted and so two days were spent denouncing something that merited three minutes, but probably should have been ignored.
This wasn't Tommy Tiernanesque. This wasn't the Lonely Planet guide insulting some national institution. This wasn't going to affect tourism in Ballyfermot. This was published in a book called The Culchie's Guide. How could this justify all the national airtime? Answer: ratings.
Duffy – like O'Connor – benefits from dividing society. Duffy wants ratings, so he pits one 'victimised' part of Dublin against an 'affluent' one. O'Connor causes disunity because he needs to justify his salary.
The perpetrators of the economic crime against us are Fianna Fáil and the bankers – not our beleaguered fellow citizens. Our energies should be focused on installing a new government – one which will get us working again – not fighting among ourselves. Unity is the only way out of this mess. We must not be manipulated by people like O'Connor and Duffy.
I mentioned earlier that 10 years ago I wrote a guide to Dublin. It made Connolly's book look PC. ('Summerhill Fair is where Dubs buy back their stolen handbags'/Southsiders are 'limp-wristed nincompoops'). Everything in it was deliberately untrue and, by Joe's standards, grossly offensive.
However, Dubliners got the joke and it became a bestseller. The difference between its reception and Connolly's is easy to explain – we didn't take ourselves so bloody seriously back then. This is what I wrote in my email to Joe. He didn't reply.
I'm sending you a copy of that book, Joe. It's going to annoy you and you might give it two days of free publicity like you did with Connolly's. You can email any complaints to the address below. I promise to respond.
'Talk to Joe' is the catchphrase. Yes, someone in authority in RTE should talk to Joe alright.
dkenny@tribune.ie
November 8, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
No piece of cake
Sunday Tribune 8 November
It's reputation as a haven for the elderly is just not fair. Dave Kenny had an action-packed, thrill-seeking holiday in Madeira, and not a zimmer frame in sight
David Kenny in Madeira
Madeira: land of the zimmer frame. God's waiting room, where pensioners sunbathe in their overcoats. Madeira, like the sticky bottle of wine named after it, sweet, old-fashioned, lingering in the back of the cupboard. Why would any youngish person want to spend their winter holiday in a place that shares its name with their granny's favourite cake?
This question troubled me as we touched down in Funchal. Along with "Isn't it strange that 'Mad' and 'Fun' are the first syllables of the island and its capital's names?"
At first view, Funchal looked a bit too built up. As if the buildings, housing 100,000, were designed on a standing-room-only basis. This didn't augur well. We checked in after dark and hoped the morning would show the city in a better light.
It did. As the sun rose, Madeira threw off its house coat and hair net and introduced itself properly. This is a beautiful, vertiginous island of soaring peaks and lush valleys. Of sheer green-thatched cliffs lapped by sapphire waters. For showiness alone, it's easy to see why the Portuguese claimed it 600 years ago.
Over the years it has built up a reputation as a pensioner's paradise – which it certainly is. However, what most don't realise is that it's also an adventure-seeker's playground. Madeira – which is sunny all year round – can be as adrenaline-fuelled as it is sedate. If it was a movie, it would be Cocoon.
Where do you start? The best way to experience Madeira is to alternate lazing by the pool (it's currently 25ºC) with excursions. These range from wine-tasting to clifftop paragliding. A morning whale-watching with a marine biologist costs €45 a head but is worth much more for the thrill of watching dolphins break the surface – like missiles from an underwater bunker – or a whale spouting 200m away from your boat.
How's your head for heights? A trip up to the Funchal parish of Monte – 800m above sea level – is a must. Four to a cable car, we ascended for 15 minutes, passing quietly over terracotta rooftops as the sea receded behind us and a wispy coils of mist beckoned us into the greenery at the summit. The trip costs €10 single or €14 return. Don't buy a return ticket. Instead, walk a few yards from the station – and skitter down the hill in a basket. Seriously, if you're happy to risk being mangled by a passing schoolbus, you have to try this. The basket toboggans seat two and are steered by men dressed as gondoliers who manipulate the wooden running boards with their rubber soles. It takes about 10 minutes of twisting and shrieking to get to the bottom where a hawker will offer you a photo of you displaying your tonsils for a tenner. I captioned mine 'Chicken in a Basket'.
Speaking of food, Madeira is festooned with excellent restaurants, such as Riso (from €30) which specialises in rice dishes and is partly al fresco, overhanging a lido and with great sea views. Espada (Black Scabbardfish) risotto with bananas may sound disgusting, but you'll ask for seconds.
O Jango is a superb fish restaurant in downtown Funchal, where you can choose your dinner date from a wide selection – John Dory, cod, espada etc – on ice near the kitchen. The grilled swordfish was the best I've ever had. Another island speciality is skewered, barbecued beef, hung at the table with a saucer to catch the juices – which are delicious mopped up with sweet potato bread.
Eating great food and fooling around in baskets was all very well, but the highlight of our trip was a 'levada' trek in the picturesque Laurisilva National Park. Back in the 1500s, the locals began constructing aquaducts (levadas) to bring water downhill to the farms. There are 2,170km of them clinging to the sides of towering, laurel-clad mountains. (I'm getting vertigo typing this.) At one point I found myself walking along a crumbly ledge, 25 inches wide, with nothing between me and infinity other than a 'fence' that looked like a washing line. If, like me, you're a gibbering coward, arrange for a walk with a guide through one of the less challenging routes.
In the afternoon, amble about the tiled streets of Funchal. Passing under the shade of the jacaranda trees, head for the market in the old quarter, where there is a vast array of tropical flowers on display.
Contrary to what you may have heard, Madeiran nightlife doesn't end with a cup of Horlicks at 9pm. Party-loving Madeirans let off steam at clubs like Vespa, Marginal, Café do Teatro and Chega de Saudade. The best advice is just to follow the crowd and explore the side of Madeira your granny never told you about.
Madeira is not what I expected. It's quirky, beautiful and good value for money. The Madeirans themselves are one of the best reasons for visiting. They're dignified, warm and – surprisingly, given the tourist demographic – very young. Forty percent of them are under 25.
Madeira/Funchal was Mad/Fun. I will definitely be returning – well before I need a zimmer frame.
Getting there
Topflight has just introduced Madeira to its Winter Sun Programme, in partnership with SATA Airlines, with direct Sunday flights to Funchal.
Dave Kenny stayed at the Tivoli Marina Hotel, which boasts top-class facilities and a courtesy bus into Funchal. www.topflight.ie
Weeks of 22 and 29 November
Dublin-Madeira
4* B&B from €499.50
Includes flights, transfers and seven nights' accommodation. Taxes not included.
The native liquor
A trip to Madeira isn't complete without a tour of a winery. The Old Blandy Wine Lodge is based in the heart of Funchal and runs visits and tastings. The Blandys are the only family of all the founders of the Madeira wine trade to still own their original wine company. They've been at it since 1811 and the lodge reeks of history. Madeira is a fortified wine, brown in colour and is used as an aperitif or, in higher alcohol doses, a digestif. Don't get the two mixed up.
A bottle of Rainwater Dry/Medium will set you back €6.90 while a single vintage 1993 costs €34. Whatever you buy will have to go in your suitcase, so quality over quantity is probably the best policy.
www.blandys.com
November 8, 2009
Ahern's God-damned blasphemy law no use in recession
Sunday Tribune, 1 November
Picture this: you're tottering home from the pub in Ennis, when you're overwhelmed by a call of nature. You run down a sidestreet and relieve yourself. Suddenly there's a loud buzzing, an electrifying flash and your nether regions light up like a Christmas tree. The owner of the shop you're peeing on – in this case Custy's music store – has installed an electric fence to stop people like you interfering with his property.
Conclusion? You won't do that again in a hurry.
It's a basic principle: your actions have consequences. The same applies for inaction too. Justice minister Dermot Ahern is today facing the consequences of his inactions. The latest CSO figures show that aggravated burglaries have increased by 51% this year and that 'ordinary' burglaries rose by 27% between July and September.
Shocking figures aren't they? Well actually, no, they're not. It's another basic principle: recession means that money goes down and crime goes up. Ahern has been expecting these figures.
Here's another figure Ahern is aware of: 25% of all serious crime is committed by people on bail (CSO, 2008). Prison overcrowding leads to more people on bail. This leads to more crime. Ahern admitted as much on 8 April when he told reporters that he couldn't tighten the bail laws because of overcrowding. There wasn't enough room to keep potentially dangerous suspects behind bars.
So what exactly has he done about overcrowding? Has he forced through the construction of Thornton Hall prison? You know the answer to that. In total, €40m has been spent on the project, with the government paying well over the odds for the site. Instead of turning the sod there, Ahern has been planting shrubs. The latest bill for Thornton Hall is €18,000 for gardening. Its maintenance has cost us €440,000 so far. Instead of a prison we have a well-groomed parkland.
Meanwhile, there's a burglar downstairs who should be behind bars. Get angry about it – but not too angry, if you don't want to get sued. Ahern won't amend the laws to allow homeowners to tackle burglars without being liable for injuries they receive. Or shop-owners. How soon before Custy's of Ennis is sued by some crotch-clutching moron?
The most credible long-term attempt by Ahern to deal with overcrowding was the introduction of the Fines Bill 2009. This allows for alternatives to custodial sentences for loan defaulters. In the past year, almost 300 people were jailed over unpaid debts. As more people lose their homes, more will go to court. More overcrowding, more bailings, more crime. Guess what? Like Thornton Hall, the bill is still at the talking stage. Ahern's detestable Blasphemy Bill made it into law before something that will alleviate needless suffering.
Along with these unfortunate prisoners, the jails will also have to accommodate a new brand of criminal – the Recession Burglar. A rising crime rate means more people heading to jail. With the traditional Christmas burglary spree coming, the situation can only worsen, putting more pressure on the system.
The Department of Justice is operating a revolving door which is spinning out of control. Last year, anyone serving under 20 months in Mountjoy's Dóchas unit was released to make space for more serious offenders. During the summer, overcrowding led to a huge increase in the number of offenders on temporary release. On 29 May, 14.65% of the prison population were at temporary liberty, compared to 8.75% in January.
Recidivist criminals have murdered while on bail. Last April, days after Ahern announced his Fines Bill, Gerard Barry was convicted of the rape and murder of Swiss teenager Manuela Riedo. He had been out on bail.
Ahern says that new beds recently provided across the service will deal with current overcrowding. As crime figures rise, they will not be enough.
Thornton Hall will not be ready for years, therefore other solutions are needed. One is the immediate implementation of the Fines Bill. Another is the reopening of the prisons closed by Michael McDowell. Their gates were shut because he expected Thornton Hall to be operational by now.
We must protect society and show compassion to prisoners. This can only be achieved with a functioning system, where custodial sentences are respected and inmates' rights are protected.
Jail must not be hell on earth – but it should be a deterrent. Wrongdoers – as the man urinating against Custy's shop discovered – must know that there are consequences to their actions.
Finally, there might be another way of dealing with Thornton Hall. It's a classic toxic asset, bought for too much money by the state. (See where I'm going with this?) Perhaps Nama has the answer. Maybe it can get it built by giving it away to a developer as a 'bonus buy'. "We'll even throw in this fully landscaped, rural idyll, with permission for a 1,400 bed guest house and several bars… on the windows."
If we continue to just plant flowers on it, we'll reap the whirlwind. In the meantime, Ahern must deliver credible alternatives to deal with the crime upsurge.
On a brighter note, there's one positive revelation in the new CSO figures. There's been no rise in the number of aggravated blasphemies. Nice work there, minister.
dkenny@tribune.ie
November 1, 2009
Picture this: you're tottering home from the pub in Ennis, when you're overwhelmed by a call of nature. You run down a sidestreet and relieve yourself. Suddenly there's a loud buzzing, an electrifying flash and your nether regions light up like a Christmas tree. The owner of the shop you're peeing on – in this case Custy's music store – has installed an electric fence to stop people like you interfering with his property.
Conclusion? You won't do that again in a hurry.
It's a basic principle: your actions have consequences. The same applies for inaction too. Justice minister Dermot Ahern is today facing the consequences of his inactions. The latest CSO figures show that aggravated burglaries have increased by 51% this year and that 'ordinary' burglaries rose by 27% between July and September.
Shocking figures aren't they? Well actually, no, they're not. It's another basic principle: recession means that money goes down and crime goes up. Ahern has been expecting these figures.
Here's another figure Ahern is aware of: 25% of all serious crime is committed by people on bail (CSO, 2008). Prison overcrowding leads to more people on bail. This leads to more crime. Ahern admitted as much on 8 April when he told reporters that he couldn't tighten the bail laws because of overcrowding. There wasn't enough room to keep potentially dangerous suspects behind bars.
So what exactly has he done about overcrowding? Has he forced through the construction of Thornton Hall prison? You know the answer to that. In total, €40m has been spent on the project, with the government paying well over the odds for the site. Instead of turning the sod there, Ahern has been planting shrubs. The latest bill for Thornton Hall is €18,000 for gardening. Its maintenance has cost us €440,000 so far. Instead of a prison we have a well-groomed parkland.
Meanwhile, there's a burglar downstairs who should be behind bars. Get angry about it – but not too angry, if you don't want to get sued. Ahern won't amend the laws to allow homeowners to tackle burglars without being liable for injuries they receive. Or shop-owners. How soon before Custy's of Ennis is sued by some crotch-clutching moron?
The most credible long-term attempt by Ahern to deal with overcrowding was the introduction of the Fines Bill 2009. This allows for alternatives to custodial sentences for loan defaulters. In the past year, almost 300 people were jailed over unpaid debts. As more people lose their homes, more will go to court. More overcrowding, more bailings, more crime. Guess what? Like Thornton Hall, the bill is still at the talking stage. Ahern's detestable Blasphemy Bill made it into law before something that will alleviate needless suffering.
Along with these unfortunate prisoners, the jails will also have to accommodate a new brand of criminal – the Recession Burglar. A rising crime rate means more people heading to jail. With the traditional Christmas burglary spree coming, the situation can only worsen, putting more pressure on the system.
The Department of Justice is operating a revolving door which is spinning out of control. Last year, anyone serving under 20 months in Mountjoy's Dóchas unit was released to make space for more serious offenders. During the summer, overcrowding led to a huge increase in the number of offenders on temporary release. On 29 May, 14.65% of the prison population were at temporary liberty, compared to 8.75% in January.
Recidivist criminals have murdered while on bail. Last April, days after Ahern announced his Fines Bill, Gerard Barry was convicted of the rape and murder of Swiss teenager Manuela Riedo. He had been out on bail.
Ahern says that new beds recently provided across the service will deal with current overcrowding. As crime figures rise, they will not be enough.
Thornton Hall will not be ready for years, therefore other solutions are needed. One is the immediate implementation of the Fines Bill. Another is the reopening of the prisons closed by Michael McDowell. Their gates were shut because he expected Thornton Hall to be operational by now.
We must protect society and show compassion to prisoners. This can only be achieved with a functioning system, where custodial sentences are respected and inmates' rights are protected.
Jail must not be hell on earth – but it should be a deterrent. Wrongdoers – as the man urinating against Custy's shop discovered – must know that there are consequences to their actions.
Finally, there might be another way of dealing with Thornton Hall. It's a classic toxic asset, bought for too much money by the state. (See where I'm going with this?) Perhaps Nama has the answer. Maybe it can get it built by giving it away to a developer as a 'bonus buy'. "We'll even throw in this fully landscaped, rural idyll, with permission for a 1,400 bed guest house and several bars… on the windows."
If we continue to just plant flowers on it, we'll reap the whirlwind. In the meantime, Ahern must deliver credible alternatives to deal with the crime upsurge.
On a brighter note, there's one positive revelation in the new CSO figures. There's been no rise in the number of aggravated blasphemies. Nice work there, minister.
dkenny@tribune.ie
November 1, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Enda Kenny, the red squirrel, has finally found his nuts
Sunday Tribune, 25 October
A red squirrel has been spotted in Kilkenny. This is good news: the native red has been almost wiped out by the aggressive grey. Now, after years in decline, it's back, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Enda Kenny is a lot like the red squirrel: in recent times he has been in decline. He too is gingerish and has a tendency to nibble and run away. Last week he finally stuck his teeth into something and called for the abolition of the Seanad.
This is a subject close to my heart. I wrote about it a month ago when senator Ivor Callely crashed his yacht. I wanted to know why we should have to indirectly help pay for its upkeep. The Seanad's meaningless, sponging existence should be put to a referendum. Our politicians must radically overhaul the system.
I received a gracious email from a popular senator who offered to bring me in and show me around (I'll get back to you when the Kevlar vest arrives). I don't know if his 59 colleagues read my attack on them. I don't know if Kenny read it either. I'm certainly not suggesting that he picked up the Sunday Tribune and was moved to tear down the Seanad. Mind you he hasn't convincingly explained why he suddenly shifted from reform to abolition. To hell with it, I'm taking the credit. Give us a shout Enda, I've LOADS more ideas for you.
The proposal scored well with the public but, typically, Kenny fluffed the follow-up. He was dreadful on Prime Time. During that interview he waffled on about a willingness to grasp "radical" solutions through "strong leadership". He reiterated the 'L' word in the Irish Times, name-checking his hero, JFK. "Decisive leadership". The sound of loins being girded was deafening.
The question is: was he talking to his party or us? Recently, I put it to a prominent Fine Gaeler that Kenny would never be taoiseach. The people don't want him, I said. He's too wishy-washy. The reply surprised me. "We'll sell ourselves as a team." There was no contradiction, no indignation, no loyalty. The word "coup" wasn't mentioned, but it was there, skulking in the corner.
Nobody was more shocked by Kenny's announcement than his party – notably the front bench. Was the surprise revelation of his Damascene conversion intended to flush out his enemies? Did he want to gauge loyalty by their reaction to a crotch-shot? Probably – at least as much as he wanted to regain popular ground from Eamon Gilmore.
Like a clutch of other senior politicians last week, Kenny was just throwing David Brent-like leadership shapes. Noel Dempsey acted like he was rehearsing for party leader when he squared up to his backbenchers over his drink-driving law. Brian Cowen was all "bring it on" with the unions over pay cuts. Gilmore told The Week in Politics that Kenny would make a good Tánaiste – ie "I'm your future leader".
What a shower of poseurs. Who do they think they're fooling? It's been a year since the economy fell off the cliff and still nothing has been done to lower down a stretcher. NOTHING. The rest of the world is recovering and we haven't even begun to tackle our banking crisis. We began talking about Nama in April and then the Dáil went on holidays. Last week it made it to the Oireachtas committee stage and, guess what, the Dáil is about to go on leave again. All of our leaders have disgraced themselves with their response to the recession. We should have had something in place months ago.
Real leaders tackle problems, they don't just flex their puny biceps. So, Brian, Enda, Eamon, stop telling us what great leaders you are/will be. We'll decide what you are after the dole queues begin to shorten.
Kenny cocked up on selling us Fine Gael's recovery plan and Nama now appears a fait accompli. To date he has yet to land a blow on this staggering government. Even the stunt of getting George Lee aboard hasn't been effective as he has yet to make his mark. The Seanad proposal hasn't wrong-footed them either – Dempsey has actually backed it.
That said, a good idea is a good idea, regardless of what you think of the instigator. It's already had an effect on our senators who are now begging to be reformed. Stunt or not, Kenny made an impact. A politician who is willing to attack a system that has lost the confidence of the people should be encouraged.
He now needs to move further to show he's commited to reform. He can do this by requesting that those senators who agree with him about the Seanad, for example Frances Fitzgerald, resign to save taxpayers' money. There are 15 Fine Gael senators earning €70k each plus expenses. If the Seanad is powerless as he says (which it is), they won't be missed. This would be a radical move with immediate effect, as opposed to something potentially years down the line.
If he does this, maybe the public will forgive the previous wishy-washiness. He's given us a hint that he may be capable of being a pragmatic leader. He still has some way to go but he's on the right track. Like the Kilkenny red squirrel, he may finally have found his nuts.
dkenny@tribune.ie
A red squirrel has been spotted in Kilkenny. This is good news: the native red has been almost wiped out by the aggressive grey. Now, after years in decline, it's back, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Enda Kenny is a lot like the red squirrel: in recent times he has been in decline. He too is gingerish and has a tendency to nibble and run away. Last week he finally stuck his teeth into something and called for the abolition of the Seanad.
This is a subject close to my heart. I wrote about it a month ago when senator Ivor Callely crashed his yacht. I wanted to know why we should have to indirectly help pay for its upkeep. The Seanad's meaningless, sponging existence should be put to a referendum. Our politicians must radically overhaul the system.
I received a gracious email from a popular senator who offered to bring me in and show me around (I'll get back to you when the Kevlar vest arrives). I don't know if his 59 colleagues read my attack on them. I don't know if Kenny read it either. I'm certainly not suggesting that he picked up the Sunday Tribune and was moved to tear down the Seanad. Mind you he hasn't convincingly explained why he suddenly shifted from reform to abolition. To hell with it, I'm taking the credit. Give us a shout Enda, I've LOADS more ideas for you.
The proposal scored well with the public but, typically, Kenny fluffed the follow-up. He was dreadful on Prime Time. During that interview he waffled on about a willingness to grasp "radical" solutions through "strong leadership". He reiterated the 'L' word in the Irish Times, name-checking his hero, JFK. "Decisive leadership". The sound of loins being girded was deafening.
The question is: was he talking to his party or us? Recently, I put it to a prominent Fine Gaeler that Kenny would never be taoiseach. The people don't want him, I said. He's too wishy-washy. The reply surprised me. "We'll sell ourselves as a team." There was no contradiction, no indignation, no loyalty. The word "coup" wasn't mentioned, but it was there, skulking in the corner.
Nobody was more shocked by Kenny's announcement than his party – notably the front bench. Was the surprise revelation of his Damascene conversion intended to flush out his enemies? Did he want to gauge loyalty by their reaction to a crotch-shot? Probably – at least as much as he wanted to regain popular ground from Eamon Gilmore.
Like a clutch of other senior politicians last week, Kenny was just throwing David Brent-like leadership shapes. Noel Dempsey acted like he was rehearsing for party leader when he squared up to his backbenchers over his drink-driving law. Brian Cowen was all "bring it on" with the unions over pay cuts. Gilmore told The Week in Politics that Kenny would make a good Tánaiste – ie "I'm your future leader".
What a shower of poseurs. Who do they think they're fooling? It's been a year since the economy fell off the cliff and still nothing has been done to lower down a stretcher. NOTHING. The rest of the world is recovering and we haven't even begun to tackle our banking crisis. We began talking about Nama in April and then the Dáil went on holidays. Last week it made it to the Oireachtas committee stage and, guess what, the Dáil is about to go on leave again. All of our leaders have disgraced themselves with their response to the recession. We should have had something in place months ago.
Real leaders tackle problems, they don't just flex their puny biceps. So, Brian, Enda, Eamon, stop telling us what great leaders you are/will be. We'll decide what you are after the dole queues begin to shorten.
Kenny cocked up on selling us Fine Gael's recovery plan and Nama now appears a fait accompli. To date he has yet to land a blow on this staggering government. Even the stunt of getting George Lee aboard hasn't been effective as he has yet to make his mark. The Seanad proposal hasn't wrong-footed them either – Dempsey has actually backed it.
That said, a good idea is a good idea, regardless of what you think of the instigator. It's already had an effect on our senators who are now begging to be reformed. Stunt or not, Kenny made an impact. A politician who is willing to attack a system that has lost the confidence of the people should be encouraged.
He now needs to move further to show he's commited to reform. He can do this by requesting that those senators who agree with him about the Seanad, for example Frances Fitzgerald, resign to save taxpayers' money. There are 15 Fine Gael senators earning €70k each plus expenses. If the Seanad is powerless as he says (which it is), they won't be missed. This would be a radical move with immediate effect, as opposed to something potentially years down the line.
If he does this, maybe the public will forgive the previous wishy-washiness. He's given us a hint that he may be capable of being a pragmatic leader. He still has some way to go but he's on the right track. Like the Kilkenny red squirrel, he may finally have found his nuts.
dkenny@tribune.ie
Saturday, October 24, 2009
We all have a (toilet) role to play in economic recovery
Sunday Tribune 11 October
History is speckled with great recovery plans: there were the Young and Marshall Plans to get Europe back on its feet after the world wars. There was the Tallaght Strategy plan of the 1980s when Irish party politics was put aside for the good of the country. Then there was… The Blotto
Last April, I suggested that, instead of Nama buying toxic assets and leaving them idle, it should raffle them. We could call it the Building Lotto – or 'Blotto'. Each week, our blindfolded finance minister would pick a toxic deed from the pile in his office. This would then be Blottoed at €25 a ticket. The winner would win a half-finished development, potentially worth millions. If even half of the 80-million-strong diaspora played, that would generate €1bn a draw. 'Blotto! It could be
As crap ideas go, I argued, it was no worse than Nama. I smugly believed it couldn't be surpassed for lateral thinking. Then, last week, a schoolmistress in Cork came up with another plan: the Patch Up The Economy With Bog Roll
Not only has this eclipsed Blotto, it's also undermined my other recovery strategies such as the Adopt A Paddy Scheme. This features TV ads with a forlorn Paddy staring into his pint as the barman shouts: "Drink up, have you no homes to go to?" Paddy glumly shakes his head and the voiceover begins: "Paddy has no home to go to… since the bank repossessed it. For just €200 a day…
Or, the Roots For Your Roots Campaign. For just €10, a tree will be planted for you in Old Erin. Eighty million people multiplied by 10 = €800m. (With that many, they'd have to be bonsai trees.) Or the Be Honorary Mayor of Your Ancestral Town for A Month Scheme (€50) or the Buy a Piece of Irish Muck Scheme (€10). Or the Be Irish campaign. We could set up an agency to discover people's Irish roots, whether they have them or not, invite them over – and hold them for
On Tuesday, the Irish Independent reported that the principal of St John's, Carrigaline has a better idea. She has asked parents to give their children a toilet roll, now and again, for the school. This, she said, is part of a cost-containment plan – a statement which drew howls of righteous indignation from some editorial
Here's the thing though: although it is literally a crap idea, it is a brilliant one. Not only is it an imaginative response to the downturn, it also teaches children the value of generosity, prudence and, of course, bog roll. Michael O'Leary is said to be very impressed. Most of all, it's a new idea and all new ideas should be welcomed. The Carrigaliners have decided that, instead of just griping about money, some lateral thinking is
There were other examples of good lateral thinking last week. Offenders doing community service are to be given the task of removing graffiti from Dublin's buildings. Law-breakers cleaning up after law-breakers and saving money for the council. Why did no one think of this
On Wednesday, it was revealed that we have applied for EU funds to pay for flights home for non-nationals. People who want to leave here, but can't afford to, can soon avail of the scheme. We save on our dole bill. Good lateral
There was also an example of lateral thinking being punished by bureaucracy. Joan Ryan raised €300,000 to buy an exercise machine for disabled people after her daughter was paralysed. She saved the HSE money and now her charity has been hit with a €60k Vat
There was political lateral thinking too. Eamon Gilmore warned Siptu that Labour would not be its puppet in government. He is opposed to it striking. Gilmore was once a radical left-winger. This was a powerful, pragmatic statement. He has changed his mindset. Trade unionists must now do the
Carrigaline's example should be the new bog standard response to the downturn. The '80s had the Tallaght Strategy, this can be our Toilet Strategy: new, positive, pragmatic ideas to deal with our new problems. Community spirit like that shown in Cork won't pay off the billions we owe, but it will improve our quality of life, little by
Fianna Fáil is incapable of following this principle. Its deputies are hotwired to be self-serving. Look no further than Bertie, or John O'Donoghue, or the backbenchers revolting over expenses
It's also incapable of lateral thinking about the economy. Last week, it sat down with the Greens to refine the Nama plan. It's six months since this was first mooted. In that time we have had only two alternatives to it: a National Recovery Bank, championed by Fine Gael, and nationalisation. Six months and nobody has any fresh suggestions. What does that say about the mindset of our politicians? The schoolchildren of Carrigaline are wiping their backsides for them when it comes to dealing with the
The communities of Ireland, from Carrigaline to Killybegs, can lead our so-called leaders by example and start rebuilding, little by little. For my part, I'm posting my money-making schemes, written on loo roll, to Government Buildings this afternoon. Every little helps. Everyone has a (toilet) role to play.
dkenny@tribune.ie
History is speckled with great recovery plans: there were the Young and Marshall Plans to get Europe back on its feet after the world wars. There was the Tallaght Strategy plan of the 1980s when Irish party politics was put aside for the good of the country. Then there was… The Blotto
Last April, I suggested that, instead of Nama buying toxic assets and leaving them idle, it should raffle them. We could call it the Building Lotto – or 'Blotto'. Each week, our blindfolded finance minister would pick a toxic deed from the pile in his office. This would then be Blottoed at €25 a ticket. The winner would win a half-finished development, potentially worth millions. If even half of the 80-million-strong diaspora played, that would generate €1bn a draw. 'Blotto! It could be
As crap ideas go, I argued, it was no worse than Nama. I smugly believed it couldn't be surpassed for lateral thinking. Then, last week, a schoolmistress in Cork came up with another plan: the Patch Up The Economy With Bog Roll
Not only has this eclipsed Blotto, it's also undermined my other recovery strategies such as the Adopt A Paddy Scheme. This features TV ads with a forlorn Paddy staring into his pint as the barman shouts: "Drink up, have you no homes to go to?" Paddy glumly shakes his head and the voiceover begins: "Paddy has no home to go to… since the bank repossessed it. For just €200 a day…
Or, the Roots For Your Roots Campaign. For just €10, a tree will be planted for you in Old Erin. Eighty million people multiplied by 10 = €800m. (With that many, they'd have to be bonsai trees.) Or the Be Honorary Mayor of Your Ancestral Town for A Month Scheme (€50) or the Buy a Piece of Irish Muck Scheme (€10). Or the Be Irish campaign. We could set up an agency to discover people's Irish roots, whether they have them or not, invite them over – and hold them for
On Tuesday, the Irish Independent reported that the principal of St John's, Carrigaline has a better idea. She has asked parents to give their children a toilet roll, now and again, for the school. This, she said, is part of a cost-containment plan – a statement which drew howls of righteous indignation from some editorial
Here's the thing though: although it is literally a crap idea, it is a brilliant one. Not only is it an imaginative response to the downturn, it also teaches children the value of generosity, prudence and, of course, bog roll. Michael O'Leary is said to be very impressed. Most of all, it's a new idea and all new ideas should be welcomed. The Carrigaliners have decided that, instead of just griping about money, some lateral thinking is
There were other examples of good lateral thinking last week. Offenders doing community service are to be given the task of removing graffiti from Dublin's buildings. Law-breakers cleaning up after law-breakers and saving money for the council. Why did no one think of this
On Wednesday, it was revealed that we have applied for EU funds to pay for flights home for non-nationals. People who want to leave here, but can't afford to, can soon avail of the scheme. We save on our dole bill. Good lateral
There was also an example of lateral thinking being punished by bureaucracy. Joan Ryan raised €300,000 to buy an exercise machine for disabled people after her daughter was paralysed. She saved the HSE money and now her charity has been hit with a €60k Vat
There was political lateral thinking too. Eamon Gilmore warned Siptu that Labour would not be its puppet in government. He is opposed to it striking. Gilmore was once a radical left-winger. This was a powerful, pragmatic statement. He has changed his mindset. Trade unionists must now do the
Carrigaline's example should be the new bog standard response to the downturn. The '80s had the Tallaght Strategy, this can be our Toilet Strategy: new, positive, pragmatic ideas to deal with our new problems. Community spirit like that shown in Cork won't pay off the billions we owe, but it will improve our quality of life, little by
Fianna Fáil is incapable of following this principle. Its deputies are hotwired to be self-serving. Look no further than Bertie, or John O'Donoghue, or the backbenchers revolting over expenses
It's also incapable of lateral thinking about the economy. Last week, it sat down with the Greens to refine the Nama plan. It's six months since this was first mooted. In that time we have had only two alternatives to it: a National Recovery Bank, championed by Fine Gael, and nationalisation. Six months and nobody has any fresh suggestions. What does that say about the mindset of our politicians? The schoolchildren of Carrigaline are wiping their backsides for them when it comes to dealing with the
The communities of Ireland, from Carrigaline to Killybegs, can lead our so-called leaders by example and start rebuilding, little by little. For my part, I'm posting my money-making schemes, written on loo roll, to Government Buildings this afternoon. Every little helps. Everyone has a (toilet) role to play.
dkenny@tribune.ie
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Let's redefine treachery to get Bertie and the bankers
Sunday Tribune, 4 October
"There are llamas loose on the M50." I thought Seán O'Rourke would burst a blood vessel trying not to laugh on the News at One on Thursday. Llamas 'on the lam'. It wasn't quite "there's a moose loose aboot the hoose" but it was close.
Several hours later, the Cab (Criminal Alpacas Bureau) had rounded up the fugitive camelids. The Corpo appropriated them, valued them at €5,000 and the Australian Circus Sydney had to stump up or they were going to be sold on. It was a kind of 'Llama Nama'.
This was a perfect allegory for the week: a circus being held to ransom by clowns.
Down on O'Connell Street, protesting taxi drivers caused traffic misery in a bid to get the regulator's attention. I have a certain amount of sympathy for taximen, but not when they use us as hostages.
On Monday we had representatives of the public sector holding us to ransom over pay – at the ultimate expense of those on welfare. On Tuesday we had a farcical, raucous debate on RTé about Lisbon – both sides blackmailing us with various threats.
Along with this we had the resignation of the Fás board and yet more revelations about our politicians' expenses. 'Mé Féin' was ringmaster at Big Top Ireland and every selfish act it introduced bolstered the proposition that we're not fit to govern ourselves. We've given the country over to solipsistic jerks in the Dáil and on the ranks. Thick-skinned bullies who believe that we are here merely to do their bidding.
By Thursday evening, I had reached saturation point. Self-interest tedium had set in. I was no longer shocked or angry by selfish unions or taximen or TDs – just exasperated. You probably were too. This is a natural response to information overload. It happened with the Troubles in the North. Each report of an atrocity drew less of a response.
When I read that banker Seán FitzPatrick is entitled to free flights with Aer Lingus while having €106m in loans, I filed it under 'Nothing Would Surprise Me Anymore' and moved on.
Then, just as I was unfurling my white flag, up popped P Bartholomew Ahern TD. My knuckles whitened. On Tuesday, Bertie chaired a debate on Lisbon at the UCD Law Society where he declared himself 'neutral'. He wouldn't be taking any questions. (Bertie doesn't like questions.)
The following day, the first signs that the man who blew the boom is successfully reinventing himself appeared. The Indo gave him a soft ride in a playful report about the debate. It didn't question why a disgraced taoiseach would be so warmly welcomed by our future lawyers.
The Irish Times noted that he drew a tiny demo over fees outside the hall, while, inside, the students cheered him to the rafters. These are the same law students who will sign on as soon as they graduate, thanks to Ahern's policies.
How can we have forgotten so soon? Bertie has been hiding in plain sight since cocking up the economy. He has been walking around in his own solipsistic bubble, impervious to our anger. He knew that all he had to do was ride out the storm and eventually he would be home and dry. The public and the media would get tired of being angry with him. He was right.
Bertie brazened his way through a tribunal that nearly had to hold him upside down and shake him for answers. He told us he won money on horses and our jaws clattered on the floor. And here he was, reconstituted as elder statesman, wearing his old Teflon suit and smug grin. In any other country (bar, maybe, Libya) he would be hounded out of public life. In Ireland, he is asked to be an honest broker at debates.
Last week, Brian Lenihan said he was determined to punish those who had undermined the state. John Gormley also said that FitzPatrick would be made to pay back all his loans. A jaded public arched its eyebrow. It doesn't take a genius to see they were playing to the gallery. How can we believe that FitzPatrick will feel the consequences of his actions while Ahern is still giving us two fingers?
If Lenihan is really serious about dealing with economic wrongdoers, he could look to the Treason Act of 1939. This defines treachery in terms of warfare, but could be amended to punish those who, through financial mismanagement or wilful profiteering, threaten the survival of the state.
Such an amendment would make it easier for justice to be applied in the case of fallen politicians and bankers. Under such a definition of treachery Bertie Ahern and his Old Boys Club would be traitors. They should be punished as such.
We can complain about Siptu or taximen, but until we have made Ahern and his ilk accountable for the destruction of our economy, we can't expect them to behave in a more civic-minded fashion. 'Monkey see, monkey do', etc.
I started this column with a play on words about llamas and Nama. Here's another one: what's the difference between Nama and Bertie Ahern?
One deals with loss-making toxic assets – the other is a toxic ass that won't get lost.
Some day we might make him pay. I'm not holding my breath though.
dkenny@tribune.ie
October 4, 2009
"There are llamas loose on the M50." I thought Seán O'Rourke would burst a blood vessel trying not to laugh on the News at One on Thursday. Llamas 'on the lam'. It wasn't quite "there's a moose loose aboot the hoose" but it was close.
Several hours later, the Cab (Criminal Alpacas Bureau) had rounded up the fugitive camelids. The Corpo appropriated them, valued them at €5,000 and the Australian Circus Sydney had to stump up or they were going to be sold on. It was a kind of 'Llama Nama'.
This was a perfect allegory for the week: a circus being held to ransom by clowns.
Down on O'Connell Street, protesting taxi drivers caused traffic misery in a bid to get the regulator's attention. I have a certain amount of sympathy for taximen, but not when they use us as hostages.
On Monday we had representatives of the public sector holding us to ransom over pay – at the ultimate expense of those on welfare. On Tuesday we had a farcical, raucous debate on RTé about Lisbon – both sides blackmailing us with various threats.
Along with this we had the resignation of the Fás board and yet more revelations about our politicians' expenses. 'Mé Féin' was ringmaster at Big Top Ireland and every selfish act it introduced bolstered the proposition that we're not fit to govern ourselves. We've given the country over to solipsistic jerks in the Dáil and on the ranks. Thick-skinned bullies who believe that we are here merely to do their bidding.
By Thursday evening, I had reached saturation point. Self-interest tedium had set in. I was no longer shocked or angry by selfish unions or taximen or TDs – just exasperated. You probably were too. This is a natural response to information overload. It happened with the Troubles in the North. Each report of an atrocity drew less of a response.
When I read that banker Seán FitzPatrick is entitled to free flights with Aer Lingus while having €106m in loans, I filed it under 'Nothing Would Surprise Me Anymore' and moved on.
Then, just as I was unfurling my white flag, up popped P Bartholomew Ahern TD. My knuckles whitened. On Tuesday, Bertie chaired a debate on Lisbon at the UCD Law Society where he declared himself 'neutral'. He wouldn't be taking any questions. (Bertie doesn't like questions.)
The following day, the first signs that the man who blew the boom is successfully reinventing himself appeared. The Indo gave him a soft ride in a playful report about the debate. It didn't question why a disgraced taoiseach would be so warmly welcomed by our future lawyers.
The Irish Times noted that he drew a tiny demo over fees outside the hall, while, inside, the students cheered him to the rafters. These are the same law students who will sign on as soon as they graduate, thanks to Ahern's policies.
How can we have forgotten so soon? Bertie has been hiding in plain sight since cocking up the economy. He has been walking around in his own solipsistic bubble, impervious to our anger. He knew that all he had to do was ride out the storm and eventually he would be home and dry. The public and the media would get tired of being angry with him. He was right.
Bertie brazened his way through a tribunal that nearly had to hold him upside down and shake him for answers. He told us he won money on horses and our jaws clattered on the floor. And here he was, reconstituted as elder statesman, wearing his old Teflon suit and smug grin. In any other country (bar, maybe, Libya) he would be hounded out of public life. In Ireland, he is asked to be an honest broker at debates.
Last week, Brian Lenihan said he was determined to punish those who had undermined the state. John Gormley also said that FitzPatrick would be made to pay back all his loans. A jaded public arched its eyebrow. It doesn't take a genius to see they were playing to the gallery. How can we believe that FitzPatrick will feel the consequences of his actions while Ahern is still giving us two fingers?
If Lenihan is really serious about dealing with economic wrongdoers, he could look to the Treason Act of 1939. This defines treachery in terms of warfare, but could be amended to punish those who, through financial mismanagement or wilful profiteering, threaten the survival of the state.
Such an amendment would make it easier for justice to be applied in the case of fallen politicians and bankers. Under such a definition of treachery Bertie Ahern and his Old Boys Club would be traitors. They should be punished as such.
We can complain about Siptu or taximen, but until we have made Ahern and his ilk accountable for the destruction of our economy, we can't expect them to behave in a more civic-minded fashion. 'Monkey see, monkey do', etc.
I started this column with a play on words about llamas and Nama. Here's another one: what's the difference between Nama and Bertie Ahern?
One deals with loss-making toxic assets – the other is a toxic ass that won't get lost.
Some day we might make him pay. I'm not holding my breath though.
dkenny@tribune.ie
October 4, 2009
The ram, the bull and the elephant in the room
Sunday Tribune, 27 September
Baltimore is no stranger to buccaneers. In 1631 two boatloads from Algeria sailed into its harbour and kidnapped 100 of its citizens. The locals still talk about the incident. Last July, the town suffered another devastating naval assault which will also be recalled over pints for years to come.
A salty old sea dog from foreign shores (Dublin) allegedly banged his vessel into a yacht and badly damaged a speed boat. He didn't hang around and headed to Sherkin Island (surely not Sherkin his responsibilities?). Later, according to reports last week, Senator Ivor Callely wore what looked like a kimono when gardaí interviewed him about the ramming.
I am still pouring bleach into my mind's eye to get rid of the image.
The most shocking thing about this story was not the chain of events or even the kimono. What really stunned me was the news that Ivor Callely's a senator. A SENATOR. I thought that when he lost his Dáil seat in 2007 he had retired from politics. Now I discover he's been hiding in the Seanad.
Callely was one of the oilier members of Bertie Ahern's club. He resigned as junior transport minister in 2005 after it was discovered that a well-known construction firm had painted his house for free. Then he lost his seat and decided to run for the Seanad. He lost that election too. So, unloved by the public and unwanted for the Seanad, Callely walked away, right? Wrong, Ahern consoled him with one of his 11 discretionary seats in the upper house.
Despite having shown him the door, we are still paying for this two-time loser to have a career. He is the embodiment of political cronyism and self-interest and is another good reason for abolishing the Seanad – an institution that most of us know little about.
Here's a question: how many senators can you name? Four? Five? Here's another: what exactly does the Seanad do? One thing it does exceptionally well is hoover up money.
Since 2007, Ivor and friends have claimed €5.6m in expenses on top of their €70,000 annual salary. That's an average of €47,000 for a part-time job.
You may think that's a waste of money but Seanad leader, Donie Cassidy, doesn't agree. He told a Sunday newspaper that "no one makes any money out of politics and if anybody says they do, I would like to meet them." Senator Cassidy, may I introduce Senator Callely? He has a yacht, you know.
There have been 11 reports on Seanad reform, yet it's still there devouring money. Colm McCarthy said its abolition would save €25m. That's our €25m and most of us don't get a say in who is elected to it. Its membership is decided by the political establishment and two universities. Generally, it is a retirement home for failed politicians and a halfway house for Dáil wannabes. As a national debating parlour, Liveline is 20 times more potent and democratic.
The Seanad has no powers other than to delay bills. Actually that's not true: it has the power to shut itself down when it fancies a round of golf. In May it decided to take a day off so that Donie and Co could go on an outing to Portmarnock. There were 'wigs on the green' over that.
Some genuinely gifted people have graced the Seanad – Mary Robinson, Feargal Quinn, David Norris, or Camp David as I like to call him. They don't, however, justify its existence. It's not even like we have any great historic ties to it either: it's only been around for 72 years. Common sense says that, considering our finances, we should scrap it. It also says that if our senators were interested in the state's welfare, they would debate the Seanad's worth, conclude it's worthless and vote to abolish it. As the Seanad is powerless, the result wouldn't be binding, but the process would give them something to do between golf outings.
What a banana republic. There are hundreds of thousands on the dole and we are paying people like 'Ram' Callely to do a meaningless job. We're paying for the upkeep of his yacht.
We live in a country where John 'Bull' O'Donoghue can waste hundreds of thousands of euros and only half apologise. Where a disgraced Fás chief can walk away with a golden handshake. Where those bankers who have betrayed our country are not behind bars for treason.
Our politicians have, grudgingly, taken token pay cuts. If they want to show real solidarity with their fellow citizens they should put the Seanad's fate to a referendum. There's a painful budget coming up and heeding An Bord Snip's thoughts about this club might soften the blow. It would show a willingness to come up with some new thinking.
Admiral Callely, for his part, believes in "new thinking". He says so on his website.
"I truly believe, together, with a redoubling of our commitment and effort, and with new thinking, we will see these tough times through and restore our country to more prosperous times. I invite you to join me in [sic] this journey…"
Join you on your journey, Callely? With you at the helm? Not bloody likely.
dkenny@tribune.ie
Baltimore is no stranger to buccaneers. In 1631 two boatloads from Algeria sailed into its harbour and kidnapped 100 of its citizens. The locals still talk about the incident. Last July, the town suffered another devastating naval assault which will also be recalled over pints for years to come.
A salty old sea dog from foreign shores (Dublin) allegedly banged his vessel into a yacht and badly damaged a speed boat. He didn't hang around and headed to Sherkin Island (surely not Sherkin his responsibilities?). Later, according to reports last week, Senator Ivor Callely wore what looked like a kimono when gardaí interviewed him about the ramming.
I am still pouring bleach into my mind's eye to get rid of the image.
The most shocking thing about this story was not the chain of events or even the kimono. What really stunned me was the news that Ivor Callely's a senator. A SENATOR. I thought that when he lost his Dáil seat in 2007 he had retired from politics. Now I discover he's been hiding in the Seanad.
Callely was one of the oilier members of Bertie Ahern's club. He resigned as junior transport minister in 2005 after it was discovered that a well-known construction firm had painted his house for free. Then he lost his seat and decided to run for the Seanad. He lost that election too. So, unloved by the public and unwanted for the Seanad, Callely walked away, right? Wrong, Ahern consoled him with one of his 11 discretionary seats in the upper house.
Despite having shown him the door, we are still paying for this two-time loser to have a career. He is the embodiment of political cronyism and self-interest and is another good reason for abolishing the Seanad – an institution that most of us know little about.
Here's a question: how many senators can you name? Four? Five? Here's another: what exactly does the Seanad do? One thing it does exceptionally well is hoover up money.
Since 2007, Ivor and friends have claimed €5.6m in expenses on top of their €70,000 annual salary. That's an average of €47,000 for a part-time job.
You may think that's a waste of money but Seanad leader, Donie Cassidy, doesn't agree. He told a Sunday newspaper that "no one makes any money out of politics and if anybody says they do, I would like to meet them." Senator Cassidy, may I introduce Senator Callely? He has a yacht, you know.
There have been 11 reports on Seanad reform, yet it's still there devouring money. Colm McCarthy said its abolition would save €25m. That's our €25m and most of us don't get a say in who is elected to it. Its membership is decided by the political establishment and two universities. Generally, it is a retirement home for failed politicians and a halfway house for Dáil wannabes. As a national debating parlour, Liveline is 20 times more potent and democratic.
The Seanad has no powers other than to delay bills. Actually that's not true: it has the power to shut itself down when it fancies a round of golf. In May it decided to take a day off so that Donie and Co could go on an outing to Portmarnock. There were 'wigs on the green' over that.
Some genuinely gifted people have graced the Seanad – Mary Robinson, Feargal Quinn, David Norris, or Camp David as I like to call him. They don't, however, justify its existence. It's not even like we have any great historic ties to it either: it's only been around for 72 years. Common sense says that, considering our finances, we should scrap it. It also says that if our senators were interested in the state's welfare, they would debate the Seanad's worth, conclude it's worthless and vote to abolish it. As the Seanad is powerless, the result wouldn't be binding, but the process would give them something to do between golf outings.
What a banana republic. There are hundreds of thousands on the dole and we are paying people like 'Ram' Callely to do a meaningless job. We're paying for the upkeep of his yacht.
We live in a country where John 'Bull' O'Donoghue can waste hundreds of thousands of euros and only half apologise. Where a disgraced Fás chief can walk away with a golden handshake. Where those bankers who have betrayed our country are not behind bars for treason.
Our politicians have, grudgingly, taken token pay cuts. If they want to show real solidarity with their fellow citizens they should put the Seanad's fate to a referendum. There's a painful budget coming up and heeding An Bord Snip's thoughts about this club might soften the blow. It would show a willingness to come up with some new thinking.
Admiral Callely, for his part, believes in "new thinking". He says so on his website.
"I truly believe, together, with a redoubling of our commitment and effort, and with new thinking, we will see these tough times through and restore our country to more prosperous times. I invite you to join me in [sic] this journey…"
Join you on your journey, Callely? With you at the helm? Not bloody likely.
dkenny@tribune.ie
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