Is there anything to be said for another inquiry?

There's an episode of the sitcom Father Ted where Ted and two other priests, Father Beeching and Father Clarke, are trying to brainstorm a solution to an emerging crisis. Father Dougal is stuck on a speeding milk float and must maintain the vehicle's speed at four miles an hour to stop a bomb, placed on board by rogue milkman Pat Mustard, from detonating. It's a send-up of the film Speed.

You probably know the episode. Father Beeching is standing at a blackboard furiously chalking down potential ways of solving the problem, while Ted and Father Clarke are sitting on the sofa in Craggy Island parochial house furiously smoking cigarettes, scratching their heads and stressing about how to solve the problem.

They struggle to find a solution, and in the end Father Beeching asks: “Is there anything to be said for another Mass?”

"No," says Ted, but Father Beeching insists: "Is there anything to be said for a Mass. The other one went so well."

“Dougal needs help, not another Mass. There’s a time for Mass and a time for action,” Ted rightly says, always one for the practical option rather than superstition and trust in greater powers.

Dougal in this episode is like the Irish people, and Father Ted, Father Beeching and Father Clarke are a group of civil servants holed up in a room in the bowels of an austere Dublin building. They are in crisis mode, poring over that morning's Irish Times, which has highlighted yet another issue to have befallen the Irish people.

They must sort out the mess for the common good but they must ensure that their boss’s reputation is not damaged, that he can avoid difficult questions until he has his story straight, and that ultimately he stays in his job. That is the most important thing.

“What shall we do? The minister is in the firing line. The media are waiting to doorstep him in two hours. He’s bang to rights: surely he’ll have to issue a full and frank statement and resign?”

One of the mandarins jumps up with a solution, and in a Eureka moment says: “Is there anything to be said for another inquiry?”

“An inquiry?” asks the other mandarin in disgust. “Yes,” says mandarin number one, “the other ones went so well”.

“So well? Don’t inquiries cost the taxpayer a lot of money and take up lots of valuable time?”

“Exactly,” says mandarin one.

“And won’t this mean the minister won’t be able to answer the media’s questions?”

“Exactly. Wait, maybe we could order a report, or set up a working group,” comes the response.

“Wait, wait, I got it,” pitches in the other one, “how about setting up a taskforce? They worked so well during the unemployment crisis.”

“Or, actually, we could just say the next government (if you vote us in, like) will deal with the issue, answer all the questions and really take some action next time around.”

“But was it not in our election manifesto that we would be different than the other crowd, that we would be straight with the people?” A wave of eye-rolling moves across the room.

Announcing an announcement

Irish public life loves an inquiry, a report, a taskforce or a review. How about a commission of investigation or an announcement that an announcement will be made?

A discussion about the terms of reference for the inquiry could take up at least three news cycles and a report would take months to publish and we could just put it up on our website at 5pm on the Friday before a bank holiday. And by the time you find the people to conduct the inquiry and write the report, and then they meet, go home at 4.30pm and reconvene next Wednesday week, write the report and unjam the printer, sure it’ll be Christmas. Maybe if we just say we are going to set up a taskforce to sort out our mess, people will think we have sorted out the mess.

“Meantime, would you like to know if I was wearing a pink or a green tie last Tuesday week? No, sorry, I would like to answer a straight question but my hands are tied by this report and inquiry. I will tell you everything you need to know once the inquiry has completed its work.”

But minister, the colour of your tie?

“No, sorry, can’t say. Lips are sealed. But be assured once a report is being written or an inquiry being set up, something is being done. Look, I did something, now there’s nothing to see here.”

I used to keep making study plans to show my parents that there was nothing to worry about, that I was on the case. Better than study itself, it worked a treat at keeping them off my back. But you expect more from your public representatives and government.

What about parliamentary accountability? What about being straight with the people? Or just answering a straight, honest question? Perhaps you could get a priest to say a Mass or just have somebody make a pot of tea, for all the good it will do.

Go on, go on, go on.