Noel Rock

You could spend a long time unwinding what exactly happened today.

From the perspective of George Lee; why did he leave in the manner that he did? Why did he not leave the party and continue as an independent?

From the perspective of Fine Gael; why did it take a week from ‘warning shot’ last week to response today? Why was the Party HQ still manufacturing party literature featuring three candidates until earlier this morning?

Most importantly though, from the perspective of Enda Kenny; why would my own handlers not let me go near the media?

The absence of Enda Kenny from all mediums today was startling; the vacumn of opinion when all eyes were focussed and all ears honed on what he had to say was stunning.

Clearly this was no accident: Enda was instructed to stay off the air – but what good could ever come of that?

Presumably, Enda will instead make a statement tomorrow but, ultimately, this late statement will have three effects: it will perpetuate the story, adding another day of negative Fine Gael news to the cycle. Similarly, by this stage, the story will be getting old – people won’t be as interested in listening. Finally, it will have made Enda look slow to react.

The solution was, and is, deceptively simple. The three things Enda Kenny could’ve said to manage this crisis:

1.We still have the best economic team in the country. Richard Bruton, alone, is head and shoulders above anybody else in terms of qualifications for running the economy.
2.George Lee joined this party for a reason: those reasons are still the same.
3.Without being in Government, George thought his services would be best deployed elsewhere. Fianna Fail are going to stay in their trenches until 2012.

All of this could’ve been said today to try and move the story on. But it wasn’t.

From the announcement at 1pm, FG had, at minimum, five hours to prepare Enda to address the nation on the Six One news. He would’ve been given a prime billing. But he wasn’t there. Or anywhere.

So now we wait for Kenny to come out tomorrow and say something but – in the meantime? He has been shown as slow to react, has been painted in all sorts of negative lights and has been portrayed as somebody who dithers, pauses and, ultimately, may not be in a position to run the country, let alone his own party.

And, for this, his handlers are entirely to blame.

In secondary school, as part of our final two years, we attended the FAS Opportunities exhibition. In both 2004 and 2005, they were held in Croke Park: much to the consternation of our teachers, and the Transition Year students who had been to Opportunities 2003 and seen it done so much better in the RDS.

They, like me, were perplexed by why such an inadequate venue would be chosen. In fifth year, one of my friends who attended was on crutches, and it was obvious how inadequate Croke Park was equipped to handle this: the lifts were switched off for the day so, to get between floors (which was a frequent occurrence, as the exhibition was spread across four floors), you had to use the ramps. If you’ve ever been to Croker, you’ll know this isn’t the most efficient way around.

Worse, dangerous overcrowding took place in popular areas - to the extent that whole floors had to be periodically ‘closed off’. The whole experience was absurd, and left me confused. Lo and behold, this new site from two esteemed journos, TheStory.ie, has started to dive deep into the murky activities of FAS. I found this contained within.

From 1997 to 2003 the Opportunities exhibition was held in the RDS. In October 2003, the Fás Director General advised the Board that it was intended that Opportunities 2004 would be held at Croke Park. The DG noted that the change of venue had arisen following careful consideration of a number of issues including on-site facilities, location and value for money as well as the overall cost of staging the event. The minutes of the Board meeting noted that Board members had “raised a number of queries in regard to the proposed location” which the Executive agreed to consider.

It was then agreed the event would move to Croker.

Interestingly, the current GAA President, Christy Cooney, was at that time the Assistant Fás Chief Executive while also a member of the GAA’s Munster Council. But it should also be noted that most events run in Croke Park are managed by Páirc an Chórcaigh Teo (PAC Teo), not directly by the GAA - though the GAA is represented on the board of PAC Teo. Cooney’s ability to influence any relevant decisions, if he had any in either Fás or the GAA, is a matter of debate.

When the C&AG sought documents about the decision to move they were informed that the decision had been made by the former Director General and that no file on the background to the decision could be located. After Opportunities 2004 a number of exhibitors complained that the venue was “totally inappropriate”, that there was “excessive overcrowding” and difficulty in accessing the event. Some said that under no circumstances would they return to an exhibition in Croke Park.

The event returned to Croker in ‘05. The DG said concerns were addressed. A board member enquired about the RDS but the DG said it was unavailable on the dates which the event was planned for.

Over the six years that Opportunities went ahead, 2002-2008, the venue never cost more than €100,000. The RDS got better reviews from exhibitors and visitors and is arguably far more suitable for these events. Yet it remained in Croker.

The report says the location was “not chosen in any year based on a competitive process but, rather, was unilaterally selected”. Not alone that, but it was selected, apparently, by one man, not the board.
The report says it better than I could.

“In February 2008, the Board approved the overall FÁS budget for 2008 including €2.65 million net for the Opportunities exhibition in Croke Park and one further event with its location to be decided at a later date. A contract with Croke Park, with an estimated value of €590,000, was signed on behalf of FÁS by the Director General and the ADG [Assistant Director General] for Corporate Affairs in January 2008 and a 50% deposit was paid.
Prior to entering into the contract with Croke Park, Board approval should have been sought as the value of the proposed contract exceeded the threshold at which the Director General had the authority to authorise expenditure.

I read with interest but no surprise at all. This is only one aspect of corruption in just one agency: the more journalists scratch the surface, the more I fear we’re going to find that sort of thing and far worse from the last decade.

In December of last year, I submitted this piece to the college newspaper, and I think it’s worth posting here.

The Lighthouse Cinema: Too Far From Shore?

Not too many people seem to be aware, but the monotony of multiplexes in Dublin was broken recently by a new entrant to the cinema scene. The Lighthouse Cinema, a six-screen cinema specialising in rare, lesser-shown movies, made its debut in Smithfield and – to date – the response has been mixed.

The movies are offbeat (for some, that isn’t a good thing!), the cinema itself is a spectacle of modernity (nor is that!) yet, there is a profound worry that the location is letting it down: not enough people are filling the seats, and nowhere near enough people are even aware of its existence. It seems as though the problem is twofold: a lack of awareness and its location. The reality, though, is that a fifteen minute walk shouldn’t stand in the way of you frequenting this venue.

In a city such as Dublin, where cynical types abound, it’s sometimes difficult to find praise for anything. Indeed, as somebody who spent the last issue slamming RTE comedy, and planned on spending this issue bemoaning the state of Irish modern literature, I know this feeling well. However, there are times when the everyday criticisms can be set aside in order to give deserved praise: this is one such time.

I always think it’s the little things that make design work so much better. So many of our small dilemmas can be overcome by positive design. One removed example, you can find out which side of the car your petrol cap is on without getting out of your car. How? Look at the petrol pump icon on your dashboard, and see which side the nozzle is on. If it’s on your right, then the cap is on the right hand side. An astonishingly small number of people (8%) know this; but there it is. Similarly, in the Lighthouse Cinema, the little things make it work: the screens are underground, so phones don’t work. An annoying problem which is overcome by smart architecture.

Indeed, it is the architecture which has attracted awards for the Lighthouse, yet there’s so much more to it: the ticket prices are lower than those of any other multiplex, making it a more attractive prospect for the cash-strapped. The line-up of movies is second to none and, generally, you can find something that will suit all tastes. Arthouse no longer just means French. The clincher though for the student? Popcorn is just €1.50: tremendous.

Oscar Wilde once said that art is useless and, indeed, he is right. Art is useless, as is beauty. There’s no function or value to be taken from either. Perhaps that’s what makes the Lighthouse Cinema such an oddity in Dublin – a six-screen arthouse cinema, which has already won a cabinet case of awards for its beauty, and where is it set? In the middle of the North Inner City. Nevertheless, this is all the more reason to treasure it: such things are all too rare on my side of the city. Take someone worthwhile there and head towards the ice skating outside afterwards: you won’t regret it. In a monotonous Dublin, this Lighthouse sends out all the right kinds of signals.

As you can tell, I’m a big fan of the Lighthouse Cinema! A few things have changed since the review - the popcorn is now €2.50, and the ice rink won’t be back until November but - by and large - things remain the same here. Indeed, I decided to finish up work early today and head down here to grab a coffee and catch up on some of my own work ahead of moving to London next month. And what did I find? The Lighthouse, despite blocking mobile signals, has free wifi throughout. Genius.

I was heartened - a few months ago - to find this chunk of information hiding inside an article about Smithfield:

For the Lighthouse, we opened in May 2008 and have achieved over 100,000 admissions in our first year. In the second six months, admissions were up 36% on the first half.

According to their owner, one Mr. Neil Connolly, they’re doing “more than okay”. Long may it continue.

This is the first of a series of posts analysing what are widely considered to be the greatest speeches ever given in Ireland.

On April 12th, 1951, Noel Browne, holding what he called an ‘inwardly untenable position’, stepped down from his position as Minister for Health in the 1948 Inter-Party Government…

I have pledged myself to the public and to the Clann na Poblachta Party to introduce a mother and child heath scheme which would not embody a means test. Since I could not succeed in fulfilling my promise in this regard I consider it my duty to vacate my office.

While, as I have said, I as a Catholic accept unequivocally and unreservedly the views of the hierarchy on this matter, I have not been able to accept the manner in which this matter has been dealt with by my former colleagues in the government.

In June 1948, the government, in Cabinet, authorized me to introduce a mother and child health scheme to provide free maternity treatment for mothers and free treatment for their children up to the age of 16 years… On 10 October 1950, I was informed that His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin, wished to see me in connection with the proposed scheme. I attended at the Archbishop’s House on the following day where I met His Grace and Their Lordships, the Bishops of Ferns and Galway. I was informed that at a meeting of the hierarchy on the previous day at Maynooth, His Grace and Their Lordships had been appointed to put before the government certain objections which the hierarchy saw in the scheme; that I was being informed of these objections as a matter of courtesy before transmission to the taoiseach as head of the government…

About the 9th or 10th of November I learned that the taoiseach had received a letter, dated 10 October 1950, from the Bishop of Ferns, as secretary to the hierarchy. The taoiseach gave me this letter for my observations with a view to reply. The objections in the letter appeared to be those read to me by His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin, during my interview on 11 October, and, in the light of the later events, I concluded that it had been transmitted solely for the purpose of record and formal reply. I, therefore, acting on this assumption, prepared a draft letter for transmission by the taoiseach to His Lordship of Ferns, as secretary to the hierarchy, in reply to the various points raised in their letter. In this answer, I substantially recapitulated the case I had made when I met His Grace and Their Lordships at Drumcondra on 11 October.

I would like to emphasise that, as I still believed that His Grace and Their Lordships had been reassured by the case made by me on 11 October, I merely regarded this reply also as being for purposes of record by the Hierarchy. I sent this draft to the taoiseach shortly after mid-November to be forwarded by him to the hierarchy. As I heard nothing further about the matter from either the hierarchy or the taoiseach until a couple of weeks ago I had no reason to believe that the hierarchy were not fully satisfied, and the work of preparing for the introduction of the mother and child scheme continued… and on 6 March its early implementation was widely publicized by me.

On 9 March, I received a letter from His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin. From this letter, I was surprised to learn that His Grace might not approve of the scheme, and declared that the objections which had been raised by him in October had not been resolved. I was surprised to learn that His Grace might not approve of the scheme, and declared that the objections which had been raised by him in October had not been resolved. I was surprised for the simple reason that I had heard nothing further, either from His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin, acting on behalf of the hierarchy, or from the taoiseach, acting for the government, in the four months that had intervened since I had handed to the taoiseach in November my reply to Their Lordships’ letter. Following receipt of His Grace’s letter, a copy of which was sent by His Grace to the taoiseach, the latter suggested to me on 15 March that I should take steps at once to consult the hierarchy regarding their objections to the scheme. I then learned to my distress and amazement that the reply to Their Lordships’ letter which I had prepared and sent to the taoiseach in the previous November had, in fact, never been sent by him…

I told the taoiseach orally that his failure to forward this reply had place me in a very embarrassing position and might easily give Their Lordships the impression that I had omitted to give any consideration to their objections and that further I had been guilty of extreme discourtesy in failing to ensure that a reply had been sent to them. I also pointed out that his failure to send this letter had the effect that I remained under the erroneous impression that the objections of the hierarchy had been fully resolved and that I could proceed with the scheme. I was surprised also to learn from the taoiseach that he had been in constant communication with His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin on this matter since the receipt of the letter of 10 October from the hierarchy, so presumably he was fully aware that Their Lordships’ objections were still unresolved. He offered no explanation as to why, in the light of this knowledge, he had failed to keep me informed of the position; had allowed me continuously to refer in public speeches to the scheme as decided and unchanged government policy, and finally had allowed the scheme to go ahead to the point where it had been advertised at considerable public expense and had been announced to the public, both in these advertisements and by my radio talk…

The letter sent by the taoisearch on 27 March 1951, to the Bishop of Ferns, in his capacity as secretary to the hierarchy, enclosing my observations, refers to the scheme ‘advocated by the minister for health’, thereby implying that the scheme was not advocated or supported by himself or other members of the government. In a letter of April 5 from His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin, written on behalf of the hierarchy, it is stated that they were pleased to note that no evidence had been supplied in the taoiseach’s letter of 27 March that the proposed mother and child scheme advocated by the minister for health enjoys the support of the government. I have, accordingly, regretfully come to the conclusion that, notwithstanding the government decision of June 1948 against the inclusion of a means test, the taoiseach and the other members of government had, in fact, changed their minds about the scheme.

It is a fact noted by many people that in no public speeches did ministers of the government other than myself speak in favour of this measure. I regret that for the want of courage on their part they should have allowed the scheme to progress so very far – that they should have failed to keep me informed of the true position in regard to their own attitude and the attitude of others. I have, consequently, been allowed by their silence to commit myself to the country to implement a scheme which certain members of the government at least did not want, on their own admission, to see implemented and which they were in fact aware could not be implemented.

I trust that the standards in these dealings are not customary in the public life of this or any other democratic nation and I hope that my experience had been exceptional.

I have not lightly decided to take the course I have taken. I know the consequences which may follow my action. The honesty of my motives will be attacked by able men; my aims will be called in question; ridicule and doubt will be cast upon the wisdom of my insistence in striving to realise the declared objectives of the party to which I belonged.

As Minister for Health I was enabled to make some progress in improving the health services of the nation only because I received the generous co-operation of members of all political parties and of all sections of the community. I lay down my seal of office content that you – Members of this House – and the people who are our masters here, shall judge whether I have striven to honour the trust placed on me.

Clocking in at a meaty twenty-two minutes on the official record, it’s a hefty retirement speech by all measurements and arguably suffers for the lack of what I’d term ‘punchiness’. Indeed, had it been written today, you can almost guarantee that there would be a consciousness about the lack of soundbites in this speech – one of the few standouts being the seminal phrase – “The honesty of my motives will be attacked by able men”.

The speech itself seems to meander somewhat, getting too caught up in setting the public record straight, something that could have been done through an editorial or via another medium, at another time. To a listening or viewing audience, the speech isn’t necessarily the great success that it’s portrayed to be. Nevertheless, it is widely regarded as one of the most important speeches to have been given in the Dail – which is perhaps a testament to the gesture moreso than the speech itself.

As for the word usage…

Well, as you can see, it sort of crystallises the utilitarian language that he used. The top 5 words (hierarchy, Taoiseach, scheme, letter, Grace) are vehicles that were used to relay the story - in fact, the majority of larger words are detail oriented - October, Dublin etc. This is a speech with a focus on detail, as opposed to vision; and perhaps that’s what was needed at the time.

Meanwhile, across the water in England, something thematically similar happened eleven days later, yet how it was achieved oratorically was remarkably different…

In the Irish context, speechwriting seems to have been always treated as the poor relation of politics. This has always fascinated me. Dail exchanges are treated as irrelevant points-scoring exercises. The bigger goal and the larger potential audience are forgotten.

Photo owned by rhurtubia (cc)

Speeches are long-winded and utterly forgettable for the most part. Can anybody remember a single speech from the last five years? Can anybody quote one? We live in a time of political turmoil. This generation is more tuned-in than ever before and, yet, the inspiration is absent.

There are, Montaigne implied, no legitimate reasons why books should be difficult or boring; wisdom does not require a specialized vocabulary or syntax, nor does an audience benefit from being wearied.

I believe speeches should be the same. Simplicity is all. Everything that can be said can be said clearly.

A rival of Abraham Lincoln’s once suffered for describing the encroachment of slavery on new American territories as “being akin to a Constitutional trojan horse”. It was a metaphor that worked well with his political colleagues but, for regular people, Lincoln’s take on the bitterly contentious subject proved more effective:

“If I saw a venomous snake crawling in the road, any man would say I might seize the nearest stick and kill it; but if I found that snake in bed with my children, that would be another question. I might hurt the children more than the snake, and it might bite them. Much more, if I found it in bed with my neighbor’s children, and I had bound myself by a solemn compact not to meddle with his children under any circumstances, it would become me to let that particular mode of getting rid of the gentleman alone. But if there was a bed newly made up, to which the children were to be taken, and it was proposed to take a batch of young snakes and put them there with them, I take it no man would say there was any question how I ought to decide!”

The Trojan Horse versus a snake. And the snake won.

It’s extraordinary that these lessons from some 150 years ago have yet to be learned by so many people. Speeches seem to almost purposely be written to be complex; yet the speaker fails to realise that, without the text in print before him, the listener (though soon to be otherwise) will be quickly lost.

Photo owned by ryanblanck4 (cc)

As Montaigne put it: writing with simplicity requires courage.

It has been quite a time since I’ve written here and, now that I can start wearing jeans again, take off the candidate tie, and put on my writing hat, I can begin to unpack the closing stages of the campaign and what actually happened.

The closing week, in effect, is a blur. People rose above and beyond the call of duty to help out, finally sensing that we had turned a corner. The sun was out, people were talking, Number 1’s were going to come; we knew we were in with a hope. We, too, began to hope.

Yet, it was a cautious hope. I made sure that we only had the bare essentials in the RDS for count time. No girlfriend, no family. I didn’t want them being there, incase it was embarrassing.

However, when the boxes started to trickle open at 9:30am, optimism even seized me by the collar. I must admit, I got a bit carried away when I first visited Stephen’s computer about an hour in. With 40% of boxes tallied, we were showing at 12%. In third place. Our seat was definitely on. Or so we thought.

At 50%, around noon, we were still holding at 12%. I rang friends. A few more people arrived. The door was open. At the very least, I knew we’d do ourselves proud on the day. It wouldn’t be the last place finish that inhabited my worst nightmares for the last month.

The count rumbled on, and by 2pm, we had dived significantly – after 80% of the boxes were open – to 7%. We would, in time, recover before the end, bringing ourselves back to level off at 8%. However, by then, we had been passed by many. Seventh place was ours on first preferences. We were hoisted to fifth place on transfers, however, this is where things started to get a little bit drawn out.

Counting, for any candidate, is agonising. Two days of it, in the virtual certainty you’re going to lose, despite being in the strongest position, is torture. For those two days, we were what I referred to as the ‘walking dead’. We were a mere twenty votes ahead of two Fianna Fail candidates, both of whom were seperated by two votes. It was an inevitability that one would be eliminated, thus catapulting the other up and over us in a merciless final act.

Yet our volunteers never entirely gave up hope. Idle speculation clashed with eternal optimism as they plotted various ways, means and scenarios by which we could eek out the unlikeliest of victories. Meanwhile, we sat at a table with the other candidates, where we actually argued about the Irish equivalent of ‘dimpled chads’.

Even in our closing moments, as Stephen and I observed bundles – giant bundles – of transfers being sent from one Fianna Fail candidate to another, we were heard to observe one such optimist remark: “What needs to happen for Noel now is…”. The unwaivering faith was touching, and I’m profoundly grateful for it, and a lot of other things.

I suppose the sole regret of this campaign, if there is one, isn’t so much that we lost. No, with a 13% Labour increase, that was inevitable. The real regret is merely that it’s over. That I won’t see the small team we had assembled on such a regular basis anymore. People drifted in and out. Some that were expected never showed. Yet people I knew for relatively little time committed literally weeks of their lives to the project.

And we bolted out the gate with 1,285 first preferences because of their commitment. I’m still not entirely sure what it all means, but I’m very, very proud of it. The unwavering faith doesn’t dim; we did something worthwhile over the last three months and, even if we didn’t win, or gain a seat, or anything material, we showed what can be possible at 21, coming from a position outside politics, in Dublin City Council.

Sometimes in life; you presume there are reasons that certain, simple improvements to an area aren’t being made.

For example, last week – after a resident asked me to look into getting a local bus timetable updated, as it hadn’t been done for five years, I rang Dublin Bus and asked them about it.

This evening, to my surprise, I found a new timetable there.

Next year, I won’t be taking any expenses. None. It’s as simple as that. By being elected, I’ll instantly be saving Dublin City Council 18,000 euro and – by potentially embarrassing other Councillors into cutting back too – that total could easily multiply.

Don’t get me wrong; as some people validly point out, there are indeed actual expenses involved with being a Councillor. However, they already get a wage to do that and – ultimately – it’s supposed to be a voluntary position. Why not take a hit, for at least one year, in a bid to revive the stalling local economies that we’re supposed to care about? Divert the funds there. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few more councillors on the bus…

I’ll have to admit something here: it’s hard to get students to go to meetings about issues. Especially ones organised by political parties. That’s why I was so heartened and relieved when over 70 people, including a lot of students, a few teachers, and quite a few local residents, popped along to our most recent meeting on Education policy.

Brian Hayes, our guest speaker for the night, outlined what became a major national story the next week, in the form of his green paper on education. It was a solid speech and it certainly provided food for thought amongst the audience.

My running mate, Declan Flanagan, also made a worthy contribution to the evening - and it was good to have him along. As always, I’m very conscious of how some of these meetings can come across as boring, and occasionally stuffy, so I tried to chair it in a swift enough manner. I don’t like self-serving speeches, so kept my remarks to a passionate minimum.

I was also encouraged by the suggestion of an audience member, Karen, who suggested that students should be more involved in volunteerism related to their field of study. It’s a wonderful idea and one I’ll be looking into seriously, should I get to City Hall. For now, I urge you to keep an eye on the website CivicFox.com. It’s a site that “combines Facebook with charity”, and is being developed by a friend from Daft.ie, who assures me that it will be special.

Meanwhile, a final note was that we had two other candidates in the room too - one from the Green Party, Adam Douglas, and the other from Sinn Fein, Oisin Dolan. It was great to have them both; I like to see interaction between parties in every forum possible.

The campaign is really getting into gear now. It’s getting busier, but that’s fine: we were all waiting on tenterhooks until the day when we could start actually talking to people and get ourselves out there.

One of the primary slowdowns that we’ve encountered in the campaign slow far is printing. In order to cover a constituency, you need some 30,000 leaflets, which Fine Gael print for you. They do a fine job, of course, but there is an overwhelming queue at this time of year, which means that you’re competing with some 300+ other candidates for resources. But, when the leaflets arrived and the time came, we were very much ready to finally start doing things on a large scale.

Last night, we had over twenty friends out to give me a hand when I needed it; and we delivered some 8,000 leaflets over the course of two hours. It’s a lot, but while we ran the first 100 metres fast, our competition are already at least 2 kilometres into their effort. We have loads left to do. As a bit of a thank you at the end, Enda Kenny came out to have a drink with the team and bought them a round, which was appreciated, since our volunteers are the most important part of this campaign. We’d rather be getting helped by visible people than invisible money. Some candidates pay for their leaflets to be delivered; I don’t buy into that kind of thing at all personally.

Meanwhile, on Saturday, Enda popped along to Omni Shopping Centre with me. We met a good few locals, some of the people who worked hard there; and learned that coffee is about the only thing to withstand the recession. I did my bit for the cause, and bought Enda an ice cream - alas, it didn’t look like this:

Enda having a cone from Ice Cream Ireland; they actually make some great stuff.

So, that’s it for week one of campaign insights and snippets - though the education talk with Brian Hayes is on Wednesday at 7pm in DCU, so if you’re about, please by all means try and make it!