Juvenile delinquents

Editorial from Thursday 16 September


I’m not talking about the Junior Certs. They’re paragons of good behaviour, compared to some of their ‘role models’. While everyone was busy sniggering at Brian Cowen, or invading the moral high ground this week, it was another image from this week’s Fianna Fáil Parliamentary Party shindig that caught our imagination here at Cork Independent HQ.

An image of An Tánaiste fixing her smart suit for an official parliamentary party photo, because she had just been sat on, for a laugh, by Cork TD Noel O’Flynn.

Whatever your views on Mary Coughlan as a person or as a politician, surely we have more respect for the office of Deputy Prime Minister?

Noel O’Flynn is Mary Coughlan’s junior by quite a bit in terms of professional ranking. Mary Coughlan is, if not the boss, the second in command.

Those of you who work for large companies, take a minute. Picture yourself at an official function. The announcement of a new acquisition, maybe, or a major contract signing. You’re not on a company night out, where the rules are a bit relaxed; there are members of the media, photographers, your immediate boss, and probably their boss too.

What do you do as the official photograph is being taken?

Do you run over to the company Vice-President and sit on his lap?

Like hell you do. Your termination notice would be in your hand before you even stood up.

Anybody working for a multinational or any kind of professional outfit will have broken into a cold sweat reading that.

But apparently it’s ok, because this is Ireland, this politics, not business, and, sure, isn’t Mary Coughlan always up for a laugh?

Imagine Bernard Allen, then a fairly junior Fine Gael TD, attempting to sit on revered Cork Tánaiste Peter Barry during a press conference. Imagine a jovial Charlie Haughey alighting on Tánaiste Seán Lemass’ knee, as the camera rolled and Gay Byrne shouted questions at them.

What’s most astounding about this is it hasn’t even been questioned. By anybody. The huffing and puffing about Brian Cowen’s state on Tuesday morning has distracted from this little episode, which raises more than one question about Irish politics.

The first one, about basic respect for public office, has already been dealt with. All of us make mistakes in our careers, but the office of Taoiseach, the responsibility it entails, is too important to be treated the same as any old nine to fiver where you can show up the worse for wear and lay your head on the desk for the day.

But the second is a different question entirely. With gender quotas back on the table; when talented young politicians like Olwyn Enright just cannot make politics work for them; and as Ireland has one of the lowest rates of female representation in the world, why is it ok for a middle aged male politician to behave towards his female superior like a teenage boy whose next trick will be to make rude noises with his armpit?

It is inconceivable that a male Tánaiste would be treated like this.

A photograph of one of Cork’s few young female politicians – City Councillor Laura McGonigle – appeared in this newspaper recently. The photo was taken at an official function she attended in her capacity as Deputy Lord Mayor, and she was wearing a ballgown. Women wear ballgowns at these things; we are expected to look decorative at all times.

A week later, she started receiving abusive text messages, with personal comments about certain aspects of her appearance, purporting to be complimentary.

If a male Deputy Lord Mayor appeared in this newspaper wearing a suit, his wife would probably be the only one to notice how he looked in the picture.

But this constituent apparently thought he had a right to express an opinion on whether he found her attractive or not. He was even surprised when she mentioned the Gardaí.

Is it any wonder Olwyn Enright decided politics might not be compatible with motherhood? Is it any wonder Brian Cowen thought the office of Taoiseach would not be compromised by a few scoops? Is it any wonder the country is the way it is, when we have no respect for the highest offices in the State, and those elected to them can’t even respect each other?

Delusions

Editorial from Thursday 9 September


Bertie Ahern might be our next President. Ivor Callely is a victim. There’s no need to be concerned at our international credit rating being downgraded. Not only are we expecting a royal visit, but Queen Elizabeth is going to move into Blackrock Castle with Gerry Adams, as they have always secretly had a thing for one another.

Cork is going to be made a Republic in a matter of months, giving Brian Cowen his wish of making Offaly Ireland’s ‘real capital’, and taking some expensive items off his shopping list for Cork (M20, Cork Docklands Project, North City Ring Road, and giving Micheál Martin an opportunity to be Taoiseach sooner rather than later, without letting him near Merrion Street).

Let me see. What else?

A vibrant, viable Opposition party with ideas and fresh thinking is actually there, it’s just been invisible for a little while. Cork won the All Ireland Hurling Final, they were just wearing blue and yellow jerseys to psych out Henry Shefflin. The world is run by elected representatives, and not by faceless investors who control everything from your mortgage repayments to how much money you’ll have to live on when you’re old. Parking is free at hospitals, and if you’re entitled to social welfare, you might get it without a seven-month delay.

All of these statements fit, I think, into the broad category of ‘delusions’.

Most of them I made up – sadly – but the first two came, independently, from the minds of the protagonists.

Bertie Ahern believes, apparently, that the biggest mistake of his 11 years as Taoiseach was not building the Bertie Bowl.

Ivor Callely is going to court to, er, ‘prove’, that he’s been victimised by the Seanad committee that found him guilty of falsifying his expenses in a most incredible way.

Medicine.Net defines a ‘delusion’ as ‘A false personal belief that is not subject to reason or contradictory evidence and is not explained by a person's usual cultural and religious concepts (so that, for example, it is not an article of faith). A delusion may be firmly maintained in the face of incontrovertible evidence that it is false.’

Now, the whole idea of ‘article of faith’ may be questionable where applied to Bertie and Ivor. I don’t want to tar all politicians, all Fianna Fáil politicians, or even all former North Dublin Fianna Fáil TDs with the same brush, but perhaps self-promotion is an ‘article of faith’ in all politics, and not just in Fianna Fáil?

I suppose it’s a necessary evil in some jobs. My photograph is at the top of this article, after all, and what is that but a form of self-promotion?

But when self-promotion evolves into self-adulation and delusions about one’s importance, popularity, and general relevance to the world, there’s a problem.

Both Callely and Ahern – like Haughey before them – seem to see themselves as tragic Shakespearean figures. Great men, wronged by those they have done so much to help.

How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless electorate!

King Lear wouldn’t have a patch on them.

They’re at it again

They’re at it again. Pesky politicians.
Politicians across the very narrow spectrum of Irish politics are incredibly predictable. We’ll go through them, and you’ll see what I mean.
Fianna Fáil. They’re lying low. Brian Cowen was off in the States recently proclaiming our economic recovery, and fair dues to him. He’s more likely to get a friendly reception almost anywhere than in Ireland these days. In fairness to him, it’s important for the economy that we’re seen to engage with the international markets… It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that Moody’s downgraded our credit rating the day after his Wall Street visit.
The rest of them, despite great posturing over different issues such as, variously, dog breeding (hello, Christy O’Sullivan and Denis O’Donovan), stag hunting, and civil partnership, have disappeared since the Oireachtas went on holidays. Everyone needs a holiday, of course, and I’ve no doubt they will be busy in their constituencies once they’ve done their two weeks’ penance somewhere. Speaking of holiday homes, another, er, Cork Fianna Fáiler who’s been in the news lately is Ivor Callely. His reasons for being newsworthy? Living in Cork – apparently – and claiming outrageous and dubious expenses. So, more of the same from Fianna Fáil. Is it me or is there a stench of the 1980s off all of this?
And now to Fine Gael. Let’s see. A botched leadership challenge, an ideological/geographical/generational divide, a social event where the opposing groups lined up at either side like an old fashioned dance, allegedly, and now a young TD criticising the ‘cute hoor’ culture of Irish politics, not just within the Government party, which would be ok, but within her own. So far, so 1980s. The Fine Gael curse has struck again, despite the valiant efforts of, among others, our own Jerry Buttimer to convince the outside world that everything is fine.
Labour. Eamon Gilmore says, like Pat Rabbitte and Dick Spring said before him, that there is no chance of him joining Fianna Fáil in Government after the next election. Rumours that a Fianna Fáil rep in South West Cork is about to jump ship to the new ‘populist’ party, and talk about a ‘Gilmore Tide’. Now we’re up to 1992!
While the Greens were but an embryo at that time, it’s pretty clear that history is repeating itself in Irish politics, and their parliamentary party has something of the endangered species about it; think of the Workers’ Party, the Democratic Socialist Party, etc. Parties with genuine policy positions and ambitions of real change rarely get very far in this country.
More of the same and plus ca change; is it any wonder we’re bored?
There’s a lot of rhetoric about ‘change’ going around, and the MacGill summer school in Donegal was full of it. But we’re well known for rhetoric – blarney, waffle, and spin are all readily identified with the Irish – and rhetoric isn’t going to get us out of this trough.
One of the most depressing radio items I’ve ever heard was a panel discussion on Radio 1 on Saturday in which four young politicians discussed their reasons for getting into politics and joining the parties they’d joined. While they were all very pleasant and articulate, they were all careful not to alienate anyone, careful not to offend each other, and careful to kowtow to their party lines.
And so, the cycle continues.

Inside Out

An email I received yesterday morning from a US radio show interested in speaking to me about an article I wrote (Cork Independent, 3 June 2010), called ‘Turning corners in a maze’, only served to highlight that there is more debate on the state of this country outside it than there is inside. 

In recent weeks, the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times and the Economist have all written about Ireland’s financial woes and the measures the Government is taking to counteract the recession.

So, to be fair, have a lot of Irish commentators, but the fact remains that there is no real debate here; inside the mire, it can be hard to have perspective on an issue that affects all of us. We all have an axe to grind, and most of us are finished grinding, because nobody is listening. And when they do, our centrist politics mean that real alternatives are very thin on the ground.

While Fine Gael and Labour oppose the spending cuts, they have no alternative. They are both so busy lining up for Government that policy positions are a sideshow, and the fact that they’ll more than likely be in coalition after a General Election means they can’t commit to anything. These two parties, anywhere else in the world, would be the least likely bedfellows – can you picture Labour and the Conservatives in the UK going into coalition? 

Fine Gael have spent a lot of time working on policy documents like their NewERA programme, but they are well aware that they won’t be in Government for a little while yet; they may as well watch Fianna Fáil hang themselves through unpopular spending cuts, rather than commit Alan Dukes-style hara kiri by repeating the Tallaght Strategy, for something as nebulous as ‘the common good’.

Labour, meanwhile, have taken the road most travelled; oppose everything, suggest nothing, and keep your powder dry until you actually have to do something. In the current situation, we have no idea how Labour would cope, or what proposals they would come up with to save our skins from the IMF, the EU and all the other bogeymen out there.

Perhaps it is the collective lack of ideology among our politicians (never forget that Labour were the first to promise tax cuts before the last General Election), and among the people who vote them in (yes, that’s us) that is to blame for this consensus.

Yes, consensus-building is good, but that usually means compromise, changing position slightly, making a few tweaks. In this situation, there has been very little questioning of the policy of reducing the deficit.

US commentators have pointed out that recessions become depressions when spending cuts are introduced and the budget is balanced. They point out that governments should spend when private companies don’t. Maybe they’re right; I’m not an economist, I don’t know.

But in the week when we’ve learned that we are officially out of recession, and also, that 5,800 were added to the Live Register in June, it’s worth reopening the debate on whether the cuts being made are really working, and, this time, making it a real debate.

Listen to me on KCRW: http://www.kcrw.com/media-player/mediaPlayer2.html?type=audio&id=tp100630stimulus_or_austerit

I was right, for a change

I was just having a nostalgic trawl through my old blog, at http://www.celticdonkey.blogspot.com, and I found this:

http://celticdonkey.blogspot.com/2009/05/george-lee-eh-putting-your-money-where.html

... in a nutshell, why I didn't think George Lee would last. Sometimes I don't like being right. Not often, though!

Political awareness

My editorial from yesterday's Cork Indo:

On my way to work yesterday I was listening to Morning Ireland on RTE Radio One; there are so many things happening in the world of politics these days that there’s a genuine danger of blinking and missing another resignation.
The recent wave of resignations in Irish politics has been shocking, and very exciting for those of us who see politics as the next best thing to Eastenders. But I’m not so sure about everyone else.
On radio yesterday morning I listened to a brief debate between Trinity College Politics lecturer Elaine Byrne and RTE Political Correspondent David Davin Power, both of whom I respect immensely.
They spoke of political change, reform of the voting system, a public consultation process where people could give their views on political change. At the end of the discussion, Davin Power made an assertion I found quite striking; “we’re a very politically aware nation”.
Are we?
Granted, everyone was talking about Willie O’Dea last week. Everyone knows who Willie O’Dea is; the funny guy from Limerick with the moustache and the gun. The week before, it was George Lee; the country’s celebrity politician. The Déirdre de Búrca affair only seemed to be on the radar of political hacks; I’d bet money that nobody on the street in Cork would’ve been able to tell me who she was before she resigned.
This week, it’s Trevor Sargent. Again, I think it’s debatable whether most people here in Cork would’ve been able to identify Trevor from a lineup, despite the fact that he used to be leader of the Green Party.
For someone like David Davin Power, who is embedded in political Ireland, to assert that we are a very politically aware nation, tells us something; those inside the culture have no idea what’s going on outside it.
Davin Power spends his days in Leinster House and RTE and not out doing vox pops with people who’d rather discuss the price of petrol, or Cheryl Cole, or how long they had to wait for an appointment with a consultant; those are the things of which most of us are aware.
The vast majority of people in the country don’t give a fiddlers’ about the political system, and those who do tend to see it as a soap, with the fall of Trevor only just behind the fall of Bradley in terms of tragedy and honour.
But what people fail to see – largely because the media fails to highlight it – is that the political system has a very real bearing on how we live and why we live that way. People live in dire poverty and inhuman conditions in Moyross and Finglas because of corrupt planning. Drug dealers get rich off the back of inequality compounded by a cosy cartel of politicians, developers and bankers. Because of today’s bank rescue plans, tomorrow your son or daughter won’t be able to get a job, because there will be no money there to help them through college or support new businesses.
Political reform can only come when the majority of people in this country are prepared to invest some energy in the political system. When people begin to vote and actually think about their vote. When people start to ask what politicians can do for the country, rather than what they can do for them.

George Lee - why young, enthusiastic, hard workers cannot survive in Irish politics

After the initial Glee (sorry) of the George Lee resignation debacle died down, I felt myself unaccountably depressed by the whole affair.

Whatever about George's personality, or Enda's, or Fine Gael, or economic committees, the whole thing serves to remind us of one thing: there is no place for young, knowledgeable people who want to change things in Irish politics.

There is no place.

Several of my closest friends are involved in politics. Because most of them are still in their twenties, they are not completely disillusioned, yet.

But by the time any of them get anywhere that they could possibly make a major difference to public life in this country, they will, more than likely, be in their late thirties or forties, they will have families and other priorities, they will have been part of the system for so long that they will be tainted by it.

In some respects I can see it happening already; horse trading with jobs and sucking up to pointless constituency committees purely because they're afraid they will lose the backing of this person or that person who is key to delivering a whole area or group.

None of them entered politics to be rich. They are bright people and could have got rich a lot faster in the private sector (perhaps not right now, but if they put as much work into any private sector job as they do into politics, they would certainly have achieved a lot). There is a certain amount of ego involved, as much as there is in any job involving public recognition.

George Lee could have got rich in the private sector. He trained as a stockbroker and took a massive salary drop to join RTE (as a lowly reporter to begin with, don't forget). I heard him speak at a media conference a number of years ago and genuinely found him inspiring. He left a cushy job in a bank making pots of money to go into journalism, where, he thought, his plain speaking and ability to translate the jargon could help educate people. At the time he said the property bubble would be the biggest crime of the Fianna Fáil government. Cassandra-like, he had it spot on.

He left his, by then also cushy, job in RTE, to further that aim yet again; he wanted, not just to show people what was going wrong, but to help fix it. Very admirable. And few people with the ability to do this get that opportunity, so he was lucky.

But the system crushed him. Watching Frontline last night, the contribution of Elaine Byrne, a politics lecturer in TCD, was the one that said most; it was the system that failed here. It's not about George's personality, although he could have waited a little longer and tried to make a bit more noise. In any political system politicians are required to 'play politics'; he should've stood up for himself. But ultimately he still would not have got what he wanted; to really contribute.

The system has failed many young, dynamic people who want to contribute to this country, to its people, and to making life better in a genuine way. Our politicians spend so much time, in good faith, sorting out medical cards and school places and jobseekers' payments on an individual basis for thousands of people, that they have no time or inclination to create a macro system where politicians made policy and the social welfare system and justice system implemented it, without a word in its ear or a phone call from the right person.

The voters are partly to blame for this; clever people vote for the TD they know purely because they know him. Because he wrote back to the request for funding or to the complaint about the pothole or the medical card or whatever. And because he seems like a nice guy.

But I would rather have a socially inept, tactless, ugly person (which George Lee is not, by the way) who knows how to run an economy running my country than a smooth, glib, chatty hunk who knows f*** all about anything appearing at my funeral and doing precious little else.

And while the current system continues to operate the way it does, unfortunately I'm more likely to get a stunning media player than a statesman.

As for my friends - I really admire them for being in it for the long haul. I admire their dedication, the slog they put in, the constant ego massaging and power playing they are doing with the ultimate aim of getting somewhere that will let them make a difference. But I think, by the time they get there they will be so tired from the struggle that they will have forgotten why they were there in the first place.

Four Angry Men

I went to see Four Angry Men - Matt Cooper, Shane Ross, Pat Leahy and Fintan O'Toole - in the Cork Opera House last night.

About 1,000 people showed up on a cold, dark, wet evening to hear four men rant (very intelligibly and well, I must say) about the state of the nation, the banks, the governing party, and society.

It was absolutely fantastic.

I am a big admirer of all four men for their intelligence and for their work on various issues as journalists.

After last night I particularly admire Pat Leahy, who earned fewer rounds of applause because of his direct and honest approach to the problems facing the country.

And I was very taken with Fintan O'Toole's idea of "known unknowns" - the things that, in Ireland, we know but we do not know. Things that we are, on some level, aware of, but we refuse to admit to ourselves. Child abuse, domestic abuse, corruption, crime... it's all in there. The culture in this country of being aware of things but not admitting them is the biggest problem facing us and he put it very well.

Their exploration of the corruption and lack of justice in modern Irish society was very interesting, and the format really suited it.

As Shane Ross pointed out, 1000 people had paid to come and see them speak last night. The previous night he spoke in the Seanad, where people are paid to be. One person was there.

The apathy and disconnectedness of the Irish public was dissected well by Pat Leahy, who repeatedly stated what many of us know, but do not know; we did not do the crime but we enabled it. We elected the people who did, and continued electing them in a cycle of greed and stupidity and self-service.

And many people will no doubt continue to vote for the same people, because although they "hate Fianna Fáil", sure "Joe up the road was good to us" and "Paddy is great to fix a streetlight".

These are all things that I knew, but that I had stopped thinking about; falling victim to the 'known unknown' Irish culture that I thought I was above.

The evening was better than I expected because it was thought-provoking. It reminded me of how enraged I was when the bank bailout happened; I'd forgotten.

Scoop? Brian Lenihan's cancer diagnosis

Link to the YouTube video of the TV3 broadcast: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlrqD6YyEOs


It might be Christmas, a time when regional journos like me are sitting at home drowning our sorrows (or toasting our joys, whichever). But for the "vultures" in the national media, Christmas is a time like any other, a time when stories are made and broken, and can sometimes have the same effect on people.
I say "vultures" because I was rather torn this week when the story of Brian Lenihan's cancer diagnosis broke, on St Stephen's Day.
And I do call it a story, something which may offend non-media people reading this.
A number of conversations I've had with different people in the two days since the story broke have served only to show me that we in the media think completely differently from 'civilians'.
Before I go into this further I will just say, for the record, that I wish Brian Lenihan the best with his illness. It must be an absolutely awful time for him and for his family and friends. My own family has been through this and I know how difficult it is. On a human level this news is among the worst you can get and I hope that he can get through it with the support of his loved ones. The media coverage, particularly when all his family had not been informed, must have been a further blow.
Going back to the story, there has been a huge amount of criticism of the manner in which it was broken. There have even been a number of Facebook groups set up a) in support of Mr Lenihan and b) to protest at TV3's handling of the story.
The general reaction seems to be one of disgust at the way TV3 broke the story over the Christmas break, after seemingly issuing Mr Lenihan with an ultimatum - he was forced to inform people on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day whom he may otherwise not have informed for quite a while. According to the Irish Independent (link above) a number of his family members were not aware of the nature of his illness before the broadcast, at 5.30pm on St Stephen's Day.
As one friend put it, 'That used to be the difference between the English press and the Irish press' - the fact that the Irish press respected personal privacy and 'open secrets'. Like that of the affair between Charles J Haughey and Terry Keane, or the fact that Bertie Ahern was living with Celia Larkin, or the drink problems that are consistently whispered about in relation to senior politicians in this country, or a million other aspects of politicians'  and other public figures' personal lives, .
Of course, the serious illness of a Cabinet Minister does not reflect on his character in the way that, say, an extra-marital affair or a drug problem might. But I agree with TV3 on one thing - that it will have implications for the country.
Brian Lenihan is arguably the best Minister serving in the current Cabinet. He is constantly mooted as Brian Cowen's successor, and he is generally considered intelligent, educated, and remarkably free from the insane level of populism that has tainted so many of his colleagues.
The fact that he is so seriously ill and may have to step down in 2010 is nothing short of a disaster for a Government that has weathered some major storms in 2008 and 2009, against all the odds. That would prompt a Cabinet reshuffle, bickering among backbenchers, junior ministers and senior ministers who will all want a sweetener (especially after taking fairly hefty pay cuts), and will throw Cowen's Government right back into the mire it has just, miraculously, climbed out of. Public support for Lenihan is far in excess of that for Cowen (even before the diagnosis), and he has been an asset to the Government. Without him, it's possible that the public will completely turn away from the Government, and the 'buy-in' it has been so anxious to achieve, will be lost.
Having said all of that, it's hard to see why TV3 couldn't have waited just one more day. I understand the urgency of wanting to be first with a story. During last year's Galway Water Crisis ('the one with the lead'),
I was hopping out of my skin to be first, but was defeated by working for a weekly paper - the local radio station scooped me by a day, although I'd known of the story for two days before them.
What my friend said about the Irish media is true - there are still some standards that do not apply in Britain. The issue of Lenihan's diagnosis appears to have been subject to some kind of Gentleman's Agreement - rumours had been circulating within a very small media and political circle for over a week. And obviously a decision was taken to wait until after Christmas, for which TV3 deserve some credit. A gentleman's agreement, however, is just like those old-fashioned pistol duels, where you are trusting the other person not to draw before you do. Somebody is always going to cheat, and you might as well be first.
And TV3 would have been afraid, with the might of RTE and that of Denis O'Brien's twin channels, Newstalk and Today FM, that they'd be scooped. Unlikely, because most of the current affairs heavy hitters in both places - the likes of Matt Cooper, Mark Little, Pat Kenny - are all on Christmas holidays. And it's unlikely that a story of that magnitude would be left to the fill-in journos to break - that decision would be made further up the line. RTE would've been unlikely to break it, because they know on which side their bread is buttered - so it was left to an independent newsroom to do so.
Ursula Halligan has been building a very strong reputation in recent years, and it remains to be seen whether this story will make or break her. It could give her the serious news credentials she is looking for, or it could make her a pariah. She can certainly forget about landing a plum job in Government Information Services - ever. Even Fine Gael wouldn't hire her after this!
Whatever their reasoning, this appears to have been a serious error of judgment by the TV3 editorial staff. We've all made them, but, to judge by the level of public condemnation, this one might stick.

Fail to prepare...

This week we learned that Cork could be submerged under water if flood defences are not adequately prepared in time for the real onset of climate change. According to a new report by the Irish Academy of Engineers, Ireland's major cities, all built on the coast and also on river estuaries, could be submerged within the next century as a result of climate change.

The report – 'Ireland at Risk' – also claims that the traditional one-in-a-century flood could happen every five years if measures are not taken to combat climate change and to prepare flood defences. And many areas of Cork are at serious risk.

Somebody tell that to the people in Passage West and Glenbrook who saw wholesale destruction of their property last week. Serious flooding occurred in Glenbrook, Monkstown, Rochestown, Carrigaline, Shanbally and Minane Bridge, and residents in Glenbrook in particular were devastated at the destruction of homes and vehicles. However, the crucial part of this tale of woe is that local people had been seeking flood defence works for years. Not huge ones; merely the unblocking of gullies. And why didn't they happen? Not urgent, according to Cork County Council.

In fairness to Cork County Council, they're not operating in a vacuum. Irish attitudes to preparation are at best optimistic and at worst apocalyptic. Make hay while the sun shines… it might never happen… sure we'll manage.

Nothing is urgent until the worst happens. That's how disaster strikes. And climate change, as this report shows, is coming at us at full speed. I'm not an expert on the environment. But I believe in what I can see, and even I can see that the weather is changing.

At the moment, the country is like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes are following the prize, while the anvil plummets towards them at speed. We are focussing on the finer points of bankers' salaries and tax rates and even on Jedward, and the Breffmeister. Some of these things are merely much-needed entertainment, while others may be directly relevant to our daily lives and wellbeing.

But issues like last week's flooding in Passage West and Glenbrook show us that we cannot afford to put climate change on the back burner. Waiting until we've dealt with the economic crisis is simply not good enough; the economic crisis could continue for the next twenty years.
While real long-term change needs to happen from the bottom up, the Government must lead on this, and introduce a flood defence programme immediately. We cannot stop climate change. But, while it might take a sea-change in mentality, we can do our best to prepare for and cope with it.

- For pics see www.corkindependent.com or www.provision.ie

*UPDATE: Cork is practically underwater today, one day after writing... wasn't aware I was psychic!

Seanad vacancies

Interesting to see the choices of Seanad nomination to fill two vacant seats (the third will come in due course).

I must say I'm glad to see the Greens' Niall O Brolchain nominated for a seat - he is more suited to national politics than local and I think the current activity level in the Seanad will suit him. (Declaration of interest: I know Niall but only professionally, and I am quite sorry not to be in Galway to cover this story!)

He lost his seat in Galway City West in July, and it seems to have been quite the rollercoaster ride for him to this point - from being the Greens 'next big thing' as their first mayor in 2006, to being the face of the Galway Water Crisis in 2007, to missing out on a Dail seat later in 2007, losing his council seat in July and now getting that long-sought Seanad nomination. I wish him the best of luck.

By 'level of activity', I mean that the Seanad appears to be quite a hotbed of intelligent debate these days. Since abolition became a running topic it seems some Senators have really pulled the finger out and are out there doing the business.

The sad thing about the Seanad is that some of the best brains in Irish politics are stuck in it due to their 'unelectability' as TDs or general bad luck. I have great time for celebrity Senators Shane Ross and David Norris but I've also come across some very intelligent, lower profile Senators who are wasted in the 'talking shop' of the Oireachtas.

The Seanad is a lot more diverse than the Dail and seems to have real debates, rather than the sham ones that usually involve an FF backbencher mumbling over his notes to the 'rhubarb'ing coming from the Opposition benches. The Seanad can be quite entertaining, but is often the only place a lot of legislation gets discussed.

But back to the nominations. It's interesting to note that Labour's candidate (token, I presume, since they are unlikely to win the poll among sitting Oireachtas members) is James Heffernan of Labour. Another declaration of interest: James is the local councillor where my parents live and I knew him growing up. He is a first time councillor and ran a surprisingly strong campaign for the Dail in 2007. Labour have clearly earmarked him for greatness and it says a lot that he has been chosen as a Seanad nominee, token or not.

Now, I haven't heard of FF's James Carroll, but a quick google reveals him to be easy on the eye, at least. That's not everything but it helps; just ask Eamon Ryan!


*Update - Sen David Norris emailed me after seeing this post:
"Do you know the entire electorate numbers 226. Its confined to members of the Seanad and Dail. That lot castigated the University Seats with constituency numbering 55,000 in the case of Trinity and over 100,000 in the case of NUI for being undemocratic. What a laugh."
True!