Perhaps we should have a Government of Mary Harney and Seamus Brennan, and leave it at that. By the standards of other countries, maybe they might not be especially heroic: by the plug-hole standards of Irish political life, they are colossi.
In 1990 Mary overruled the coal-importing lobby who insisted that if Ireland outlawed bituminous fuels, the Famine would return. Beggars would teem through our streets, keening widows in sackcloth would douse themselves in ashes, coffin-ships would founder off Ellis Island and, oh yes, they'd be out of pocket.
This humbug was elevated into an orthodoxy unchallenged by any of the political parties; and thanks to Luke Clancy's team, we now know how many people died because of this craven capitulation to the coal-lobby. It was in the region of 360 a year in Dublin alone: one a day. All that was required to end this drip-drip seasonal slaughter, a Jumbo a year down on hire-purchase, was gumption and pluck. Enter Mary Harney. She outlawed what we had been assured was the unoutlawable, and mortality in Dublin fell promptly by 6 per cent per year.
Worth entering politics
That, now, was worth entering politics for, Mary. Whatever else happens in your life, if you are caught cracking the whip in a massage parlour in Kilbeggan, if you have been, in reality, Charlie Haughey in drag and with a face-transplant all along, it doesn't matter. Four thousand people did not hack themselves to an early death in the 1990s because of you; thousands of grandchildren bounced on grandparental knees they would not otherwise have bounced on.
Sometimes you might wake in the middle of the night, wondering what the mysterious and exciting sensation which fills your body might be. Mary, I can tell what it is: it's pride, and by God, you have a right to feel it.
I'm not sure when I started writing about speed being the primary cause of road-deaths: it was certainly years and years ago. Minister after witless Minister in those days would rise in the Dáil to declare that alcohol was the primary factor, though it clearly wasn't. But it made a good scapegoat, so nothing was done to tackle the main cause of road-deaths: speed. All my words were in vain: the common fate of columnists.
Which would be fine if the issue involved were not the loss of hundreds of lives a year. People, quite demonstrably, were being slaughtered because our political establishment lacked the will to enforce the rule of law. Indeed, the opposite was the case. There was a palpable political will to ensure that the law was not imposed. Hence the murderous legal farce that allowed unskilled teenagers to fail their driving tests, and then drive home, unaccompanied.
Untrained drivers
The consequences were catastrophic. Our road-deaths were an unanswerable rebuke to the standards of this society. A quarter of a million untrained drivers were on our roads, and every year, hundreds of people were being killed either by them, or by qualified drivers who simply ignored the law.
The Department of Justice could have acted, for though speed limits traditionally are decided upon by other Departments, the enforcement of all law emanates from Justice. It did nothing. An Garda Síochána, too, could have acted independently, merely as a matter of policing policy, but it didn't, under Commissioner after Commissioner.
So, instead of reasons for a radical enforcement of the law, we got wily, weaselly reasons why the law should not be enforced: oh, the computer's not working, or it's not opportune, or there are rents to be collected, et cetera et cetera.
Meanwhile, from the National Roads Authority, we got roadside road safety signs which you could make sense of only if you stopped your car, got out and read them very slowly.
Then along came Seamus Brennan and imposed a penalty-points system upon a wholly reluctant administration; and - lo! - our road deaths are now falling dramatically. Next, he says, he'll tackle the ludicrous and immoral practice of unqualified drivers being allowed unaccompanied on the roads.
Forget all else you've done in your life, Seamus. Scores of unknowable families, known not even unto themselves, who might have otherwise have been bereaved will be spending this Christmas with their loved ones because of your single-mindedness. So even if you are caught with a trio of nude Russian ladies doing a sabre dance over your recumbent and naked loveliness, who cares? You have measurably and undeniably increased the sum of human happiness: and if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, et cetera. . .
Lower speed limit
Might I suggest a couple of more radical ways of keeping people alive, Seamus? The first is a drastic reduction of the ludicrous 60 m.p.h. speed limit on country roads. And get that law enforced, where it counts, rather than have gardaí radar-trapping drivers going at 75 m.p.h. on motorways, with the Garda Commissioner then crowing proudly about how the force has cut down on speed.
The second is a ruthless enforcement of - what we drivers will certainly find - unbearably low speed limits in cities, towns and villages. We'll have to bear it.
The third is an escalating system of penalty points for speeding. Licence-holders of, say, one year's standing, will lose their licence if they're caught speeding once. Licence-holders of two years' standing are allowed a little more latitude: three years, rather more. And so on. Whip the youthful testosterone into line, and road deaths will plummet. Try it.
In the meantime, well done the pair of you. You'd make a lovely couple. Happy Christmas. (Nothing personal, Brian and Anne.)
KEVIN MYERS