We live in a representative democracy. How members of the Oireachtas are supposed to represent and keep in regular touch with their constituents, if they spend all week in Leinster House and drop their constituency work, or confine it to weekends and, say, four weeks' annual holidays, critics do not attempt to explain.
Critics generally fall into two classes. Letters to the editor on this subject often come from people living in leafy well-to-do Dublin suburbs. They personally want for little in terms of education, are able to pay for professional advice, should they need it, and are well able to carry on any battles with officialdom without political assistance.
The second class of critics comes from the media. When the Houses of the Oireachtas are not sitting, they are generating less news, and maybe leaving some political journalists feeling under-employed. They want to keep politicians under their noses all the time.
Two lines of attack are employed. The first is to suggest that TDs, even on one recent occasion the Taoiseach himself, all enjoy long holidays, defined as whenever the Dáil is not sitting. The Joe Duffy Programme did an infantile exercise on checking which Fianna Fáil (but of course!) TDs were in their offices one day during the summer recess. You will not find too many US congressmen in their offices in Capitol Hill on non-sitting days.
No one suggests that broadcasters who are on air at most a few hours a week or journalists who write a weekly column, are lazy, because this is the sum total of their work. Publicly visible work produced, whether of politicians or the media, is only the tip of the iceberg.
When it is pointed out that the vast majority of parliamentarians work long hours with little respite, the fall-back position is to denigrate most of the work they do outside the chamber. Presumably, prejudice and deliberate crawthumping helps sell newspapers even more effectively than it can elect politicians.
I am not suggesting politicians deserve undue sympathy. They have volunteered and been chosen for the work, knowing the lifestyle that goes with it. By and large, they enjoy what they do and feel a sense of privilege and fulfilment in serving their fellow citizens, both in small ways and large.
What Charlie McCreevy calls "the Dublin mind-set" is at the root of some of the critique, partly motivated by a subliminal contempt for the people outside the Pale. Obviously, Oireachtas members living close to Dublin are more accessible to their constituents than TDs and senators from farther away.
What people want from their representatives could possibly be of some relevance in a democracy? "I hope you will do something for the town" was what I was most frequently told going round Tipperary as a general election candidate in 2002.
One of the most important roles of an Oireachtas member is to make sure that the case for their local area as well as for their entire constituency is properly understood at political level, when it comes to the allocation of resources, be it for schools, sports clubs, community groups, or most recently decentralisation. Obviously, the case has first to stand on its merits, and be presented professionally.
Why can these things not be done objectively by specialists, bypassing the political system? The answer is that that is done in many instances (e.g., award of local radio licences, planning appeals). But technocrats, apart from not being necessarily a bias - and prejudice - free zone, since they too are human, are not democratically accountable for their individual decisions, and only for their conduct as a whole in a general way.
If the public has complaints about such decisions, it can be difficult to get redress, or even a proper hearing. If the public wants a system of decision-making responsive to its needs, it is not always a good idea to ring-fence it, so that any political input is made impossible.
People also want their representatives to listen to them, to hear their stories, as well as help solve their problems. Sometimes they need advice, other times they are looking for champions to overcome what appear to be almost impossible obstacles. People's concerns need to be reflected in and inform contributions to Oireachtas debates, deployed constructively.
It is often suggested that citizens' advice clinics or welfare bureaux would process individual problems just as well. In some instances that may be true. But it is important for Oireachtas representatives to have first-hand knowledge of people's problems, because they, unlike people staffing advice clinics, are legislators, and have the power ultimately to alter the system, where gaps, deficiencies or structural faults are shown up in it.
Where people have given service in the community, often voluntary, and either they or a close relative have died, families appreciate the presence of a public representative known to them, where that is possible, at the funeral. One of the best things about Irish life is the way people rally round bereaved families.
Of course, adequate time must be given to legislative and other parliamentary work, though it is simplistic to equate increased legislative output with an automatic increase in national welfare. There is such a thing as over-regulation.
A balance has to be struck between different demands on a legislator's time. Injunctions to write constituents out of the agenda is a particularly naïve form of élitism.
Clientilism? It would be wrong to suggest that people or communities can only obtain their entitlements by going through local politicians. They are more an additional resource. There are too many real problems to deal with to be wasting time creating the illusion of an input into matters, where there has been none. Too much boastfulness and an attitude of "Me, Me, Me" is not attractive in private individuals or politicians. If we want a New Year's resolution, it is that political credit should be strictly earned, before it is claimed. Utopian, no doubt.