So the Government is to close Blindcraft and consign its blind workers "to the scrapheap", as one of them put it to me this week. This is the culmination of a truly shocking tale of Government incompetence and even, according to the workers, deliberate neglect of an institution that has provided the dignity of work for blind people in Ireland for the past 150 years, writes Mary Raftery.
While dignity and perhaps charity might have been uppermost in the minds of the founders of the blind workshops, the current workers have taken it far beyond that. In a sometimes bitter fight for their rights over the past three decades, they have secured full legal status as employees and full remuneration for their work. In 1994 they went on strike for equal pay with the sighted workers in Blindcraft, and are now paid at the level of the general operative grades within the health board structure.
They are in this respect unique in Ireland among groups of workers with disabilities. The thousands currently employed in sheltered workshops have no legal status, no employee rights, can be fired at will, and are paid only a small nominal fee for their work. A code of practice was promised four years ago to identify their rights. It has yet to materialise.
The Blindcraft workers are convinced that they are being targeted precisely because they have already secured these rights, which could provide a powerful precedent for other disabled workers in this State. With Blindcraft gone, so too is the living example of equal pay and rights for those among us with disabilities.
Since 1957, there has existed a peculiar body called the Board for the Employment of the Blind, whose only function is to run the Blindcraft operation. The board is state-appointed and funded directly by the Department of Health. The Department argues that its subsidy to Blindcraft of €635,000 is far too high, that the company is not sufficiently commercial and so it must close.
Many Dubliners will remember the Blindcraft shop in Rathmines, with its range of reasonably-priced hand-crafted baskets, cradles and furniture. It vanished in 1990 when the company inexplicably decided to close and sell the retail outlet and move to a factory premises in Inchicore. Here it continues to produce baskets and high-quality orthopaedic beds. Skilled craftspeople also restore and repair antique cane furniture. But with no shop, and not even a website, the finances of Blindcraft disimproved considerably and the workforce declined. The operation always needed some Government subsidy, but this has increased substantially in the wake of poor commercial performance.
What Blindcraft needed was a board with the appropriate mix of business and marketing skills to return it to its previously relatively healthy financial position.
Instead, what the Department of Health has done to Blindcraft is nothing short of scandalous. It has continually failed to even appoint a board - Blindcraft has had a functioning board for only four of the past 12 years. When finally a board was appointed last February, its terms of reference were startling: top of the list was the disbandment of Blindcraft. Although in situ for six months, this board has met only once.
The workers at Blindcraft were so concerned at the uncertainty surrounding the company that they sought a meeting some years ago with Health Minister, Micheál Martin.
He gave them two clear and categorical assurances: firstly, he would not be closing Blindcraft down; and secondly, there would be full consultation with them about any future changes in the company.
It consequently came as a shock to the workers to hear on the radio that Blindcraft was to close with the loss of all their jobs - no consultation, no prior warning, just another broken promise. But sure it's only 30 blind workers, so who cares anyway? Well, it's just possible that Micheál Martin might be brought to care, as the political fallout begins to hit the fan. So far, he has ignored their requests for a meeting, but the workers, through their union SIPTU, have vowed to fight to the end for their jobs. Already, Dublin city councillors have unanimously passed a motion calling on the Minister to keep Blindcraft open. And that's just the first salvo in a battle between the might of the State on one side and 30 blind workers on the other.
Employment in Blindcraft has allowed many of them live entirely normal and independent lives. They earn wages, pay tax and PRSI, have mortgages. As one woman said during the week, being able to earn a proper wage meant that her blindness had become merely an inconvenience to her. For a number of families where both partners work in Blindcraft, its closure means a double blow.
We've had much talk in the context of the proposed Disability Bill about the rights of people with disabilities. One such group, who fought long and hard for their rights, have seen at first hand the true colours of this Government's attitude to disability. They're about to be thrown on the scrapheap.