In a culture where conversations that go around the houses before getting to the point are the norm, and where “they’re very direct” is a character assassination on par with “they never stand their round”, it’s not surprising that even for the most experienced interviewer the point of an entire segment can be lost or severely diluted for want of a simple, direct question.
And often that question is about money — or more accurately what people earn. And so on Monday The Pat Kenny Show (Newstalk, weekdays) talks to the former Defence Forces member Mark Keely, who worked in bomb disposal. Keely is a passionate and credible advocate for better pay for serving members — the point of the interview.
He describes how low pay drove him out of the Army, from a job he loved, into the private sector, where he is better paid. Yes, but what was his Army salary? He’s not asked. He does mention money: “Coming home with €36 for 24 hours’ work, after tax, that’s what I was getting paid on top of my wages.” The figure is attention-grabbing but difficult to unpick if the context of wage levels isn’t given. Is inquiring about pay — in an item about pay — too much to ask?
It’s the same when Kieran Christie, head of the ASTI teacher union, is interviewed about the difficulty the Department of Education had recruiting examiners for this year’s Leaving Cert, on Monday’s Claire Byrne Show (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). Pay is a key factor. “Is it a case that the fees aren’t enough?” Byrne asks. Payment has been increased to make marking more attractive, acknowledges the union man, adding that negotiations on raising them further continue. “But Government don’t ease up on their purse strings all that easily,” says Christie, a touch coyly. Pay levels are referred to many times — it is, after all, an item largely about pay — but what is that pay? How can a listener take a view on the issue without knowing that crucial fact? Show us the money. It’s a pass-paper question, but it’s not asked.
However, if what people earn is a difficult subject, then sex (not bishop-and-nightie-type pearl-clutching — we’re way past that now) and, in particular, transgender issues are even more so.
Last week the Irish Rugby Football Union, the governing body of Irish rugby, followed its English counterpart as well as World Rugby in banning trans women from playing contact rugby on women’s teams. It’s a move that has greatly impacted the Irish trans woman Alix Fitzgerald on several levels: practically, in that the 54-year-old from south Dublin, who has lived in the UK for years, can no longer play on her women’s team in London; but also psychologically. “I feel wounded is the only way I can describe it,” she tells This Week (RTÉ Radio 1, Sunday).
Fitzgerald is an open and engaging interviewee, and her acceptance on her team is evidenced by the fact that it awarded her the title of most improved player in 2018. Playing rugby, she says, gave her “a sense of belonging”. A curious thing she does, though — and one I expected her to be tackled on with a direct question — is never to refer to her team-mates or opposition as women, which is the crux of the matter. Instead she refers to players in her league as “people”, as in “I’ve propped against people who have been stronger than me.”
Her interviewer, Mary O’Regan, raises the subject of safety. “Do you ever feel as a player you were a danger to others?” she asks. “There’s no real evidence that I’m a danger. People go there’s the science, but there’s no real evidence that I’m a danger.” Which is easy to accept in her case, not least because age is a cruel master; Fitzgerald, who says her playing career might not have many years left anyway, plays with and against women who are sometimes many years younger than her.
This is a highly personal interview, and although there may be no science about Fitzgerald in particular, there is about the general issue; about the fairness of sex divisions in sport, and about the safety of women playing contact sports against men. So it would have been helpful in the broader, difficult debate if the IRFU, instead of just sending in a statement, had provided someone to join the interesting conversation. And that’s especially so when Fitzgerald has raised her head above the parapet to discuss it. “Nobody really talks to trans people about this sort of stuff; the community needs to be engaged more,” she says.
Anyone eating while tuning into The Custom of the Sea (RTÉ Radio 1, Saturday) will have quickly dropped their cutlery and sat mesmerised as a horror story of cannibalism unfolds. The Documentary on One strand, back for a new season, is the station’s most downloaded podcast, which is not surprising given its quality in terms of ideas, research and production values. Narrated by Andrew Bennett — who has a voice you could listen to all night — this episode tells the story of the Limerick-registered Francis Spaight, “one of the most superior vessels ever offered to emigrants”.
In 1835 the cargo ship loaded with timber was returning from Canada with 18 crew and one passenger when it ran into a storm, losing its masts and all food and fresh water. The ship ended up adrift in the Atlantic; after 16 days the captain invoked the “custom of the sea” whereby, if there was no alternative, crew could draw lots to see who would be eaten first. A teenage apprentice named Patrick O’Brien drew the short straw — it’s thought it was rigged, as he wasn’t very popular — and the cook (who was soon to be eaten himself) slit the boy’s throat. In this infamous episode in Irish maritime history, four of the crew were eaten by their colleagues — with no legal repercussions when the survivors arrived back.
The story, produced by Marc McMenamin and Sarah Blake, and told through restrained dramatic re-enactment with input from several historians, vividly conveys the macabre horror of the event.
All those who thought they were clever describing the challenges of foreign travel this summer as being like the Hunger Games, take note.
Radio Moment of the Week
Pure joy listening to the fastest Irishman ever after his historic race on at the European Athletics Championships on Tuesday. Israel Olatunde, who broke the Irish 100m record that had stood for 15 years, is clearly delighted but remarkably cool and calm, given his immense achievement. “It’s just amazing, really great to be out there,” he tells Morning Ireland (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) on Wednesday, adding that he could hear the Irish supporters in the crowd, screaming. The 20-year-old from Dundalk notes that he was one-400th of a second off a medal. “That’s something,” he says. Olatunde later tells Pat Kenny: “I can feel the love from all over.” And so he should.
