Now who in their right mind would invest in an Aer Lingus whose shareholding is dominated by the Government, and which the Taoiseach sees primarily not as an airline, but as an employer of his constituents?
It was the protection of Aer Lingus's role as a job-supplier to Bertie-voters that largely led to the departure of the great Willie Walsh. And if the almost casual sacrifice of the finest chief executive in the airline's history doesn't scare off potential investors, then before they squander their money on Aer Lingus shares, perhaps I might interest them instead in a scheme I am developing for canals that propel water uphill, powered by starlight?
As it is, Willie Walsh will probably be back with a vengeance, and not once but twice over, for his new employer, British Airways. The first time will be to cherry-pick the finest talent who helped transform the fortunes of the airline, which is probably happening as we speak: the national airline's best and brightest are sneaking through Dublin airport wearing false moustaches and big noses to fly to London on Ryanair and negotiate contracts with BA. The second will be to exterminate Aer Lingus on the transatlantic run. What japes!
Of course, the Taoiseach is not alone in his desire to keep the airline under government control. That ambition is shared by the Society for the Infinite Protection of Trade Unions, Siptu. Neither can maintain that their first priority is the long-term commercial interests of the airline, or the welfare of its passengers: if that had been the case, Aer Lingus would have been privatised long ago, and Michael O'Leary would be sitting behind an upturned cap on Grafton Street, mournfully sucking on a harmonica and sounding like a harpooned walrus.
Naturally, Siptu is implacably opposed to the sale of any shares in Aer Lingus. It thinks that the airline should still be run by the Government. And why not? The Government's efficiency in handling non-governmental matters has been proven time without number. Consider the hundreds of millions squandered on a non-existent stadium, a recently completed national aquarium which a gust of wind has turned into an open-air pool, voting machines which have been as much use here as they would have been in North Korea, brand new medical clinics lying idle across the country, and a surface-transport system which is as co-ordinated and efficient as fairground dodgems being driven by marijuana-puffing chimps. No better people to be running an airline! The most interesting feature of the arguments in favour of state ownership is not merely how intellectually dysfunctional they are, but also, how utterly lacking in self-interest are those employees who make them. Eight years ago, when Siptu called out its members at Dublin Airport to force Ryanair to negotiate with it, closing down just about every airline except Ryanair, the latter was the size of Air Tierra del Fuego. Now it can fit Aer Lingus neatly in its back pocket, and its employees arrive for work in Bentleys.
Willie Walsh would in time probably have done much the same for Aer Lingus and its workforce - and so with much relief, both waved him an eager farewell. What is this? Why a preference for grey, inept state employment, when there is real money to be in the private sector? Is it that same pathological national insecurity which caused land-hungry Irish immigrants in the US to prefer to huddle together in the great cities of Boston, New York and Chicago, rather than fanning out across the mid-west, pioneering and farming and taking risks as did the Swedes, the British and the Germans? Aer Lingus has yet to replace the great Willie Walsh, its one and only saviour. Might I suggest that it might do no better than to employ Martin Halstead from England, in a sort of direct swap for Willie? Martin is an 18-year-old from Oxford - yes, I repeat, 18 - who has just started his own airline, flying between Oxford and Cambridge. Bizarrely enough, communications between the two cities are very primitive. The 83-mile road journey takes over two hours, and the train journey, via London, takes two-and-a-half hours.
So Martin - who, I repeat, is 18 - is starting a £50 scheduled plane service between the two cities, using chartered eight-seater Piper Navajo Chieftains, which will do the journey in 20 minutes. To be sure, in-flight entertainment will be brief, and those who wish to avail of the toilet facilities will probably be tied to a burly hostess by a long piece of rope and then ushered out onto the wing, but just think of all the time saved and the stress avoided - which is the only reason for flying.
With enterprise such as his, Aer Lingus would probably prosper as it did under our Willie - but that of course is probably not the Taoiseach's ambition for the airline. No, indeed: what he wants is a safe, secure employer for Bertie-voters.
However, the days of airlines being controlled by governments in a risk-free environment are as over as the steam-powered tram to Poulaphouca. Ask the aeronautical next-of-kin of Swissair or Sabena, and they will, with heavy tread and grief-stricken brow, lead you to the great cemetery for extinct national enterprises.
Footnote: Monday's forecast in this newspaper for today ran as follows: "Mainly cloudy and windy with showers or a bit of rain". Ah yes, with showers or a bit of rain. Well, we do like to give our visitors post-flight variety. Céad Míle Fáilte.