Radio Review Bernice HarrisonEvery year, to coincide with International Women's Day, at least one media outlet carries a feature where twentysomething women are asked if they consider themselves feminists and what do they think the women's movement did for them.
As the years go on there's an increasing air of mystified blankness about the answers - not quite of the "Feminist? Oh no, I'm not a lesbian" variety but a definite taking for granted of gender equality and a smug belief that that's the way things have always been. For those young women, Mairin de Búrca's story on Case Stated (RTÉ1 Radio 1, Tuesday) would have made for enlightening listening.
An active member of the fledging Irish women's movement, de Búrca was arrested for protesting outside the Dáil. Her big concern was not the arrest itself but that, because women were exempt from jury duty, the case would be heard by an all-male jury, who under the legislation had to be property owners. All this was in 1971 and no, for younger readers that isn't a misprint that should have read 1871. A woman could apply to be on a jury but the few women that did were viewed as being so downright odd, they rarely made it into the courtroom.
Helped by a pro-bono legal team led by Donal Barrington with a young Mary Robinson as his junior counsel, de Búrca fought for equal representation of all citizens on juries - not just for women but also for men who didn't own property. After a fraught five-year battle that went all the way to the Supreme Court, they won and, as she says now, her name will always be remembered as long as there are Irish law students.
Her case was the first in a new series presented by Paulyn Marrinan Quinn on key legal cases and it's an interesting and potentially quirky idea for a series especially if it's kept as jargon-free and as brimming with human interest as this first programme.
Touching on issues of inequality was Eye Candy (RTÉ Radio 1, Thursday), which featured Amanda Coogan, a performance artist whose parents are deaf and who has a particular affinity with the Irish deaf community. The arts programme followed her as she and a group of deaf volunteers prepared for a special signed performance of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody in a Limerick art gallery. She chose the song she says, because "it's so operatic and opulent and there's no better language to show that than Irish sign language". Her work since she left college has been about exploring her own experience of being from a deaf family and she says she has "inherited a frustration of a community struggling for equality, where even their language has no official recognition". The programme worked on several levels - it gave a fascinating insight into how one performance artist works - a difficult art practice to get a handle on - but it also gave an insight into some of the issues affecting a largely invisible community.
Over on BBC Radio 4 on Monday, Puzzle Panel presenter Chris Maslanka was discovering somewhat painfully and admirably publicly, that all men are not equal in A Puzzle Beyond the Panel. He was attempting to find out why he is single and in the course of the programme he gave himself a year to sort out whatever the problem is and find a partner. One attempt at speed dating ended in disaster - "it's not every day I'm rejected by 40 women".
Body-language expert Tracy Cox zoned in on Maslanka's beard, which he admitted made David Bellamy's look tame. People, she said, form impressions about other people after the first 90 seconds and beards, which are widely assumed to be horribly scratchy, weirdly pubic and full of food, are a big no, no. A vox pop backed Cox up, with only one woman able to come up with something positive about chin fuzz. "I suppose they're useful if you have a horrible facial disfigurement," she said, clearly grasping at straws.
Maslanka rejected such beardist views and pretty much ignored his best friend who suggested that he get a skip and fill it, and then maybe he would be able to get from one room to another. To attract a woman, the friend advised, "You need to make time as well as space for her".
I wasn't entirely convinced that the problem really was Maslanka's exterior or his house's interior. The reason for his singledom had to have more to do with his way of describing himself, which sounded like something the great David Brent in The Office might have come up with. "Call me reckless," he droned, "I like thinking." Or "I'm Mr Wisiwig, what you see is what you get".
Cox's time might have been best used advising him that the phrase "You should try everything once except incest and folk dancing" isn't really the most attractive conversational gambit on a first date.