Mary Robinson's comments about young women "copping out" to marry and mind children rather than pursuing a career that allows them to fulfil their potential gave us some very lively comment pieces and letters. Surprisingly, the debate was overwhelmingly one between women. Little comment was made about just how old-fashioned and, indeed, chauvinist Mrs Robinson's remarks were.
The old image of Irish man being the Cú Chulainn of the family - head, hunter and defender - while Irish woman was Maca, bare-foot and pregnant, running races according to the whims of men, is one that, for the greater part, belongs to mythology. More and more, contemporary Cú Chulainns have realised that, actually, working in a factory, civil service, newspaper (!), from dawn to dusk is not an attractive option. Spending a lifetime to earn a retirement watch, a golden handshake and a few years on the golf course before meeting Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates is not what it is cracked up to be.
Mrs Robinson's assertions were profoundly middle-class, American and, at 61, reflected her age. Speak to people 20 years younger than her and you will find a generation confronting problems and challenges that Mrs Robinson knows nothing about. Having spent her life in cushy jobs - university lecturer at TCD, President, UN High Commissioner - Mrs Robinson's life is as far removed from the daily grind of ordinary people's as a London bus-driver's is from the Queen of England.
"Copping out", however, is not just a choice that women make - men do it too - while rearing children is harder than working and may be the only sane solution to ensuring that partners (of whatever gender) actually find themselves returning to a family and home rather than an empty bedsit.
Mrs Robinson certainly buys into the American Dream - success is working hard, reaching the top and making it as CEO. It should be the Irish Dream, is the import of her comments. Yet the American Dream could well turn out to be the Irish Nightmare. Indeed, it is often said that what happens in the United States today happens here 20 years later. Perhaps we should learn from the trend of dropping out now, rather than wait.
Irish parents in their late 20s to early 40s are the first generation to face vicious house prices and soul-destroying commutes in significant numbers. Time is an enemy in a way in which Mrs Robinson's generation cannot realise. Finding time to get children ready for creche or school, finding time to travel, finding time to work, are problems that face modern parents daily. Monday to Friday is no orderly procession of days between weekends; it is hand-to-hand combat with modern existence.
We live in an Ireland in which people make daily commutes from Belfast to Dublin to work; Newry has become a suburb of Dublin, as have many towns in what used to be deepest, darkest Leinster. This is the new Ireland in which a generation are getting up earlier and earlier and coming home later and later in order to provide for their families. More and more, fathers and mothers are having to make arrangements not only for their children but for each other simply because of the demands of time: one makes the sandwiches; one does the morning school run; one commutes to work; one does the afternoon pick-up; one starts the dinner; one does the homework; one puts them to bed. It is a mix and match existence that is far removed from the traditional roles of Mrs Robinson's era. Parents are morphing into being mathers and fothers.
Mrs Robinson is right: work is important but not for the reason she believes. It is not ambition that makes work important - it is the money and it is human company. Money because young parents now face mortgages that resemble the bills for Nasa space programmes and company because being a parent is a lonely business. Adult company can be hard to come by and children, as much as their parents love them, are never great conversationalists.
There is another issue here. Mrs Robinson's great concern for human rights is one which many would support. The paradox is, of course, that people have less time than ever to care about others. The Chinese occupation of Tibet, for example, is an affront to us all but most of us are not going to empathise with their plight simply because we are too busy to worry about it. (Indeed, how can you empathise with Tibetans when you can't empathise with your own children or spouse?) Struggling to make it in business or any profession does not leave a lot of time for much else.
The personal objective of work becomes the be-all and end-all of life. Everything, from children to world poverty, becomes peripheral and can be dealt with by throwing a cheque at it - be it fees for the baby-minders or the latest charitable appeal.
Safe in her well-paid world, Mrs Robinson wants us to be good, little career-obsessed Americans.
No thanks.
John Waters is on leave