The announcement by Joe Duffy that he is to retire as host of Liveline after 27 years may have caught listeners by surprise, but signs that he might leave RTÉ Radio 1’s phone-in show have been there for some time.
With the 69-year old broadcaster’s contract due to expire this summer, there had long been chatter – including on his own programme – about the possibility or indeed viability of an extension: his €351,000 salary made him the highest paid person at cash-strapped RTÉ in 2023.
But whatever about the inevitability of his departure – he informed management of his decision to retire last year – what is undisputable is that he exits the stage as one of the most influential, and distinctive, figures in Irish broadcasting.
[ Joe Duffy to leave Liveline at the end of June after 27 yearsOpens in new window ]
A native of Ballyfermot, Dublin, Duffy’s working class background marked him out from most of his broadcasting peers. After studying at Trinity College Dublin, he served as president of the Union of Students in Ireland – even being briefly imprisoned for his role in a student protest – and worked as a probation officer, before landing in RTÉ as a radio producer in 1989.
Netflix, Prime Video, Disney+, Apple TV+: 10 of the best new shows to watch in May
Eurovision Song Contest: How are organisers reacting to criticisms of Israel?
Eurovision: RTÉ gets ‘commitment’ from European Broadcasting Union to discuss Israel participation
A Deadly American Marriage review: Excruciating documentary gives Jason Corbett’s killers Molly Martens and her father a platform and megaphone
Having first made his name as a roving reporter on the Gay Byrne Show, he was unceremoniously dropped from the programme in 1996.
Redemption came when Duffy replaced the late Marian Finucane as host of Liveline in 1998. During his tenure, Liveline was transformed from a slightly generic phone show into Ireland’s supreme court of public opinion: his tagline, “Talk to Joe”, could be seen as either invitation or threat.
Duffy brought his everyman style to the role, combining rooting-for-the-little-guy theatricality with an activist’s drive for social justice, with a hefty helping of dramatic Dublinese thrown in. It also helped that he took over Liveline during an explosion in mobile phone ownership, enabling instant feedback on his topics.
At his most effective, Duffy had a benign populist’s instinct for stories that exercised listeners. His on-air campaign against so-called head shops prompted the government to close such outlets in 2010, after weeks of grimly lurid tales about the harm caused by narcotic legal highs.
[ Joe Duffy media firm sees accumulated profits top €520,000Opens in new window ]
More recently, in 2022, Duffy gave a platform to women sharing their experience of menopause, shining a spotlight on an inescapable fact of life that had previously been largely ignored in the media. He also courted controversy by addressing the reliably contentious issue of transgender rights.
But perhaps the presenter’s most significant achievement was the platform he provided for survivors of institutional and clerical abuse. His sympathetic handling of guests gave witness to the horrors they had endured, and encouraged ever more people to share their stories, whether from industrial schools, mother-and-baby homes or elite Dublin schools. In doing so, he brought the crimes described in official reports to life in harrowing fashion.
Generally, however, Duffy dealt with more personally scaled matters, from consumer scams to crime stories, with results that could be moving, unintentionally hilarious or, all too often, tediously petty. He could also be sensationalist or sentimental, to the point of caricature: he was a favourite target for impressionists and satirists, from Mario Rosenstock to David McSavage. Despite all this, Duffy kept the show on the road, as Liveline’s consistently high ratings attested.
Still, it seems like the right time for Duffy to step back. Some of his show’s recent conversations have been more akin to nostalgic reminiscences than discussions on hot topics. Meanwhile his role was increasingly filled by stand-in hosts such as Katie Hannon and Colm Ó Mongáin, inevitably fuelling speculation about his future. Indeed, whether the Liveline brand should continue without Duffy is another question: for one thing, younger people hardly make phone calls any more.
Either way, Duffy’s departure leaves a huge hole in RTÉ’s radio schedule, one which will be hard to fill. Equally, Irish public discourse is losing one of its most compelling, if occasionally infuriating, interlocutors. For Joe, the Liveline is about to close.
