Charlie McCreevy may be short of a few bob for the plain people of Ireland, but he's rarely stuck for a few words to share with them. It's only a wonder that his hardy annual appearance on Today with Pat Kenny (RTÉ Radio 1, Monday to Friday) doesn't expand to fill the whole two hours of the programme.
The only word missing from his spirited exchanges with the punters seems to be "regressive". Indeed, even the sharper Budget commentators - such as Damien Kiberd on The Lunchtime Show (NewsTalk 106, Monday to Friday) and the esteemed presenter of Tonight with Vincent Browne (RTÉ Radio 1, Monday to Thursday) - didn't use it in my hearing, though they seemed to grope towards its currency. What else do most of the increased taxes and charges for public services have in common? From diesel and VAT to cigarettes and booze; from bus fares and electricity to bin charges and (whisper it) the TV licence? Even the charges on our "flexible friends"? Yep, we'll pay the same charge or percentage whether we live in Finglas or Foxrock, whether we're small farmers or beef processors, whether we have €40 in the bank or €40 million. Redistribution, it seems, is with O'Leary in the grave.
Anyway, here's Charlie in characteristic form on the Kenny show. Caller: "I wonder is the Minister aware of the effect of the changes in Vehicle Registration Tax on diesel vehicles?" McCreevy: "I'm very precisely aware of it - it's a handy way for me to get in an extra €38 million." And he's off and running, juggling statistics like so many bowling pins, only half-engaged with the very specific point the caller is trying to make, but in good form with the world and with himself.
Although Pat Kenny is not the most likely commentator in Ireland to complain about a regressive tax system - like the RTÉ newsroom, he headlined the whinges from the business sector - he is the right man to facilitate the public's attempts at grilling the Minister in one respect: he is evidently comfortable with figures. As we heard this week, even our brightest broadcasters can't always make that boast. Consider, for example, Fintan O'Toole, presenting The Last Word (Today FM, Monday to Friday). Early in the week, he was called upon to interview Dublin Bus's Grainne Macken about fare increases and the sleight-of-hand defiance of the Government's 9 per cent authorisation.
Now, the same morning, Marian Finucane (RTÉ Radio 1, Monday to Friday) had done well with Macken, keeping one eye on the handy Irish Times table that spelled out the percentages. O'Toole must have left that table in the kitchen because, introducing his show's similar item, he mistakenly described the 15 cent rise in the most common fare, from €1.05 to €1.20, as being more than 20 per cent. Not to be outdone for inaccuracy, in the course of the interview Macken variously described that increase as being just over 9 per cent, about 10 per cent and, finally, under some pressure from O'Toole - who declared, redundantly, "I'm no mathematician, but" - as 11 per cent. Few of us are fond of maths on the hop, but surely 15 as a percentage of 105 is a lot simpler to estimate than these folks made it sound. Unfortunately, the simple, serial error remained uncorrected, and an important fact - that the single most common fare has risen by more than half-again what Seamus Brennan authorised - was lost.
Coincidentally, on the same evening O'Toole was on air giving his terrific Thomas Davis Lecture (RTÉ Radio 1, Monday), first heard last May, about the promiscuous joys of a youth spent in public libraries. One hopes listeners will be stirred and spurred by his praise for Richmal Crompton - "at her best, the equal of Herman Melville" - and go read the Just William novels. But is it possible that the young Fintan was pursuing vicarious mischievous pleasures with William when he should have been learning his sums?
Better years spent in Dolphin's Barn library than in Armagh Gaol, to be sure, though the women interviewed in Lorelei Harris's documentary, The Chaplain's Diary (RTÉ Radio 1, Wednesday) were extraordinary thoughtful, mature and articulate. Sometimes their words undercut the diary entries by Father Raymond Murray that the programme hung upon - such as his 1970s concerns about women prisoners becoming "defeminised" sounded prissy in light of their political struggles around strip-searching and the hunger strikes; other times they made a perfect weave.
Harris's typically ambient visit to the prison, where we could feel the cold and "see" the darkness, added another dimension. Let's, please, hear more of such rich, powerful, first-hand retellings of our troubling recent history.
hbrowne@irish-times.ie