Some of the commentary on the TD's fall from grace has been gloating and disgraceful.The real story on Liam Lawlor involves following complex money trails. Unfortunately such trails don't make for banner headlines, writes Paul Cullen
So Mr Liam Lawlor has failed to cooperate with the Flood tribunal not once, not twice, but three times. Today, once more, he enters prison under the full glare of the media spotlight.
But does that mean he has parted company with his rights as an Irish citizen, let alone as an elected representative of the people? That he no longer enjoys the right to privacy, for himself and his family? That he is no longer considered innocent until proven guilty, like the rest of us?
Mr Lawlor's belief that everyone else - the tribunal, the media, the High Court - is out of step with him may seem quaint. He may believe that if you say something often enough people will start to believe it, regardless of how fantastical the assertion. He may even be attempting to bore us into submission, hoping we turn away and lose interest.
He is entitled to these views and to be judged on the facts. The courts have heard his case and decided that he is in contempt of their orders. The matter was a civil case, not a criminal one. Mr Lawlor has committed no crime.
It's worth remembering that he has been asked to file documents going back to 1973. How many of us could lay our hands on financial records going that far back? If we, like Mr Lawlor, were in business, would we be able to recall the details of thousands of transactions? The tribunal, with all its resources, has taken years to investigate some matters, so how long would it take an individual with limited time and support?
Few of us, of course, hold anything near the 120 bank accounts he had been found to control. However, this figure includes credit card accounts, leasing agreements and other financial arrangements not normally termed accounts.
While Mr Lawlor sees conspiracy in the judgments handed down to him, few of those who have examined his compliance would disagree with Mr Justice Smyth's verdict that he supplied "too little, too late". The judgment's comment that he only bestirs himself when gets listed for court is deserved.
What Mr Lawlor doesn't deserve is the kind of intrusive and abusive attention he garnered on each of the last two occasions he was sent to jail, and on his recent holiday in the US. It wasn't Mr Lawlor's fault that he wished to visit his son in New York before going to jail; most of us would make a similar plea if we found ourselves in the same situation.
If there was blame to allocate, it lay with the judges of the Supreme Court, who appeared to go to extreme lengths to facilitate the TD's request.
Yet there were no television crews camped outside the judges' houses, no media scrums around their chambers. Instead, the cameras followed Mr Lawlor to the airport, across the Atlantic and around the bars and restaurants of New York - all that was missing was a grainy picture of a family Christmas dinner.
His wife Hazel, who is in no way accountable for the doings of her husband, was equally subjected to this intrusive coverage.
SOME of the commentary on Mr Lawlor's long fall from grace has been disgraceful. Much of it is written in that gloating tone reserved specially for those who the writers believe have no comeback against the articles they publish.
Because Mr Lawlor has fallen foul of the courts, he is deemed to have no good name to defend. The chances of him suing are slight. He is considered fair game.
Only this can explain the more scurrilous coverage he has received. One tabloid joked that he might be sodomised while in Mountjoy. Another newspaper prints references to the Dublin West TD by its online readers as "a wally", "a scumbag" and "this swine".
There is no proof for Mr Lawlor's claim today that prison officers were offered five-figure sums in return for a picture during his last stay in jail. Yet the allegation rings true, and it is certainly typical of tabloid behaviour in Britain.
The vengeful tone of much of the comment must surely be due to Mr Lawlor's success in evading the cameras waiting for him upon his earlier entrances and exits from Mountjoy.
Five times now he has given the media the slip; if he does it again today he could surely set up in business as a consultant in such matters.
The truth is that today's circus is just that - a circus. It is a diversion from the real story, which is about Mr Lawlor's money and where it came from. But money trails don't make for banner headlines and the time it takes to follow them exhausts the attention span of the media pack.
No-one wants to wait years until the final chapter of this drama is played out at the tribunal.
Yet if the media had put in half as much effort into tracing the origins of his wealth as it does in chasing him around the back lanes of Lucan today, then the truth of the matter might have been revealed many years ago.