A month ago I bumped into Denis O’Brien in London. I was walking down Pall Mall, a glorious relic of empire, strewn with old world gentleman’s clubs. There’s a Crimean war monument at one end and St James’s Palace is at the other. This is where powerful figures mingle, whispering secrets over crystal-clinking dinners under portraits of the gout-inflamed greats of yesteryear.
Denis appeared from a side street, looking hooded-eyed but indifferent. We locked eyes for a nanosecond before awkwardly glancing away. I didn’t stop to chat like Leo Varadkar did in Davos last January. The billionaire was alone and he walked with the step of someone with things-to-do. I strolled on in my tourist-speed shuffle, and dared not look back.
I took to wondering why I felt a tad nervous, discomfited. Lately, the eruption of a new Independent News and Media saga has increased mentions of the billionaire, provoking a palpable nervousness in the media that seems familiar. We shouldn’t be afraid of Denis O’Brien, he’s just another guy, so why are so many of us spooked?
The fear of saying the wrong thing about O'Brien permeates not just our media but our government too
It reminded me of genuine fears I had two years ago after an appearance on a Late Late Show panel in which I criticised O'Brien. I could feel the gravity of what I was saying when I sensed Dearbhail McDonald, INM's normally chatty business editor, freeze and go silent next to me. We didn't speak afterwards and I could feel my gut tighten the next day as messages warned me to "expect a letter". Eamon Dunphy left an encouraging but foreboding voicemail. Others jokingly told me there was a support group for the growing numbers threatened by O'Brien's lawyers.
Factual and fair
His solicitor wrote to RTÉ demanding an apology. The rather intemperate letter accused me of a "defamatory" attack on their client, which they said was "snide", "premeditated" and "malicious". The Late Late wrote back, defending my comments as factual and fair. A lawyer friend of mine, the late James Osborne who was ousted as INM chairman, assured me I had not said anything defamatory. A year later I breathed more easily when I realised I was not personally receiving a letter within the time limit for a defamation action.
The fear of saying the wrong thing about O’Brien permeates not just our media but our government too. Despite having the comfort of absolute privilege in the Dáil, Leo Varadkar’s administration is careful not to comment about him. This is despite the Moriarty tribunal report, a State inquiry into the acquisition of Siteserv by an O’Brien firm and his recent lawsuit against the Oireachtas itself. There is no appetite in Government Buildings for confronting the issues arising from his colossal media and business interests either. Varadkar recently refused to answer parliamentary questions about the content of his Davos chats with O’Brien.
RTÉ was similarly mousy last week when The Irish Times broke the story about an INM lobbyist contacting Denis Naughten. Its main Six One and Nine News bulletins failed to mention O'Brien by name. The story made little sense as they reported it.
Previously, contributors on at least one radio panel were advised not to identify the billionaire. Eventually the flagship TV bulletins named O’Brien, but only a full day after the story broke. Journalists at INM were praised for their “bravery” in covering the suspected data breach but were conspicuously silent on the Naughten-INM issue last week.
Those who know O’Brien personally say that he’s great company and very generous. He’s able to laugh at himself. Professionally, O’Brien is a feared litigant.
INM coverage
Leo Varadkar knows the fate of his close friend Lucinda Creighton, who demanded action on the Moriarty report in 2015, prompting an angry personal letter from O’Brien. Some months later, Creighton’s moribund re-election bid wasn’t helped by negative coverage in INM newspapers. Since becoming Taoiseach, however, Varadkar has enjoyed more favourable coverage in its opinion pages.
The National Union of Journalists has called on the Government to ask the Broadcasting Authority of Ireland to re-examine its 2012 ruling that O'Brien doesn't control INM
What of Fianna Fáil's reaction to INM's midge-cloud of scandals? The party has focused on generalities about protecting journalists. Rather awkwardly, its justice spokesman Jim O'Callaghan has frequently acted as Senior Counsel for O'Brien, including at the tribunal and a successful defamation action against the Irish Daily Mail.
Of the main parties, Sinn Féin is the only one willing to criticise the Big D, recently calling for him to respond to the allegations of a data breach at INM. The party has little to lose as it already receives a barrage of negative stories from INM titles, which increased in intensity and volume in recent years.
The National Union of Journalists has called on the Government to ask the Broadcasting Authority of Ireland to re-examine its 2012 ruling that O’Brien doesn’t control INM. Not a single member of the Government has supported the call, despite public pronouncements about cherishing journalism. Varadkar has avoided follow-up questions about the Naughten-INM affair. That silence says it all. The great problem is not what people do or say about Denis O’Brien, but what they don’t. The Government, who supposedly have the greatest power, cast their eyes away from commentary about him, as though he popped out unexpectedly and awkwardly from a side street in London.
Oliver Callan is a writer and broadcaster