An Irish tendency to refuse first but to accept when something is offered a second time may tell us something about why we vote the way we do in EU referendums, writes Quentin Fottrell
I HAVE a two-tiered cake theory about the delicate psychology of Irish voters, which I would like to share with you in the run-up to the Lisbon Treaty referendum on June 12th. This slice of political science has not been laboratory tested, but I did one random sample - in my neighbour's kitchen in No 2 - and I believe both tiers are well-iced.
It's tentatively called the "Let Them (Want To) Eat Cake" theory.
The first tier came to my attention some time ago over a pot of tea in a friend's house in Long Island, New York. My American friend's mother offered us a slice of Madeira cake. She asked one of us, an Irishman, if he would like some. It did look absolutely delicious.
He had an appetite and girth to prove it, but he eyed the cake with a mixture of hunger and suspicion, and finally declined.
"Are you sure?" my friend's mother asked. He hesitated.
She raised an eyebrow. He thought about it some more, paused, then said, "Yes".
She replied, "You Irish are all the same. We always have to ask you twice!"
She had a point. We voted No to divorce, then Yes. The Nice Treaty was rejected first time around, but was turned around by a newly humbled Bertie Ahern who effectively said: "What you really meant to say was Yes!" (As one No voter told me at the time: "Maybe I should have said: 'No, thank you'.") But dry runs work better in baking than in politics.
The citizenship referendum passed, but our fears of a phantom menace were manipulated to mobilise a Yes vote, not the other way around.
My first tier suggests we are cautious and polite, but it's rooted in preciousness, pride and cultural insecurity more than graciousness. We like the status quo. We need to know a Yes vote maintains that.
Brian Cowen, therefore, needs to tread carefully and earn our trust. People tend to vote No if they are confused, and almost a quarter of voters are, so he must convince them to vote Yes even if they still don't know who to believe. Many don't. There are lots of swing voters out there, despite vigorous debate in the Letters pages of this newspaper.
The debate hasn't filtered down to the water cooler like other referendums. It's boring. We're busy. Allegations of a militarised, undemocratic super state don't get us all riled up like immigration or "lifestyle" issues.
The parties need to stop bickering and have a clear voice, but we don't like politicians to speak down to us, especially if we vote on gut instinct.
This brings me to my second tier. A few years ago, I took part in a coffee cake "bake-off" in aid of the Irish Hospice Foundation. It was the line-up of usual suspects: a future Miss World, a soap star, a jazz musician . . . and Mary Harney.
The Minister, I noticed, was not wearing a toque for the photograph (toque is the posh word for chef's hat). "You'll stand out like a sore thumb," I told her.
I thought she might look like a bad sport in the photograph. She did not look at all impressed. But we passed a hat down the line, she took it . . . and wore it.
Perhaps she also suspected that the ever-sensitive Irish voting public doesn't like to think somebody's head is getting too big for their toque.
She baked her own coffee cake. And did a great job. But she made her speech in front of my cake, which looked like burnt pizza.
Two ladies asked me if the Minister really had made that cake. I nodded. They looked at her with sympathy, believing Leinster House was taking its toll. My pathetic piece of crust may just have earned her extra votes.
If we are to listen to the main parties on Lisbon, politicians must be likeable. That's why Cowen canvassed shoppers, will abandon the Galway Races tent and may postpone Cabinet pay rises. He must avoid that all-powerful protest vote. We have hidden depths, but the good news is, we also have hidden shallows. We like people who like us.
Charlie McCreevy has that likeability. Asked what will happen if the Lisbon Treaty goes down the Swannie like the failed EU constitution, he said: "There is no plan C." Great line. It's tough, not hectoring, and doesn't threaten disaster or isolation. What's more, he doesn't think "ordinary, decent Irish people" - that's us! - even need to read it.
Similarly, Sinn Féin, which supports a No vote, could actually help the pro-Treaty camp. Those who dislike Adams & co may vote Yes to spite them.
The No camp also risks being scaremongers, not sending out a coherent message and being aggressive. People died for our independence, but millions of people died in a wartorn Europe too.
If you want our swing vote, roll dough with your homies, wear the toque even if it looks silly and bake your own coffee cake. Don't force-feed us Madeira cake, but do let us see it, touch it, smell it, want it.
Remind us how prosperous we have become, how great we are. We like to appear to make up our own minds. Be nice to us. We won't bite.