One of the concerns about the way democracy is working is not with the people we choose via the ballot box, but with an increasing range of electorally unaccountable âspecial advisorsâ that politicians bring into power with them.
Ireland is far from containing the most egregious examples. Think Elon Musk or, a little while ago, of Dominic Cummings, whose visit to a bluebell wood in the north of England during covid restrictions gave the first inkling to voters that there were several tiers of responsibility being applied during a moment of national crisis, and that you were taken for a fool if you believed that âeveryone is in this togetherâ.
Citizens came quickly to realise that there was a pyramid of rights, and that they were at the base. It was a recognition that marked the beginning of the unravelling of the Conservatives as a potential party of government.
Ireland has not travelled as far down this road. In 2024, the UK had 128 special advisors with a payroll cost of around âŹ16m. We had 40, costing us in excess of âŹ4m annually.
Their use has become a fixture in Irish politics since the early 1990s, when the Fianna FĂĄil-Labour coalition began their widespread appointment across government departments. Their employment has to be carried out in accordance with Section 11 of the Public Service Management Act 1997.
They have not become a matter of high controversy, for now, although it might be worth asking where the Spads were when âŹ6m was being spaffed during the Arts Councilâs IT debacle. But we can look across the Irish Sea and appreciate the rise of one of our own.
A new book, Get In: The Inside Story of Labour Under Starmer, credits Macroomâs Morgan McSweeney as, if not the Ă©minence grise, then at least the red-headed resurrectionist of that partyâs position in British politics.
McSweeney, who is the prime ministerâs chief of staff, having replaced a short-lasting predecessor, Sue Gray, who also has strong Irish connections, is identified as the strategist who took Labour from abject defeat under Jeremy Corbyn in 2019 to landslide victory in 2024.
After moving to London as a 17 year old, he worked as a labourer; started, and then dropped, a degree, and worked on a kibbutz in Israel before going back to Middlesex University to study politics and marketing.
The Irishman, the book suggests, remains unknown to most of British electorate, although he may be a more familiar figure to those who use the Heathrow to Cork Aer Lingus flight regularly. The authors, journalists working for the Times and Sunday Times, portray McSweeney as a 21st-century Machiavelli, dedicated to toppling Corbyn and his fellow ideologues and to making Labour as electable as they were under Tony Blair through the use of data and âmessagingâ.
Most of the political stories emerging from Westminster in the past few weeks â Keir Starmerâs acting lessons, the assertion that he âacts like an HR manager, not a leaderâ, that his shopping mentor and Labour donor Waheed Alli likes to make his mark on government policy â have their origins in this account of McSweeneyâs ascent to power.
These claims may or may not be true, or are made simply to help sell a book. It wouldnât be the first time. But what it also reminds us is that, as active voters, we should demand to know as much about those who advise ministers as those who seek our support on the hustings. As a group, they exercise power without the tiresome burdens of responsibility.
As the British government was once told in different circumstances, this is the âprerogative of the harlot through the agesâ.
Influence without consequence does nothing for transparency in government, and even less for accountability. It will surely lead to a further erosion of trust in democracy.
O'Sullivan was a top-grade man
The terrible news of the death of 24-year-old National Hunt jockey Michael OâSullivan after a fall at Thurles 11 days ago is a devastating reminder of how dangerous racing can be.
And the moving tributes which have followed his passing provide eloquent testimony to the sense of community with which it is imbued.
Michael, from Currabower, Glantane, Mallow, Co Cork, only turned professional two years ago, but was already a winner at Cheltenham after taking the Supreme Novicesâ Hurdle on Marine Nationale in 2023.
He was the product of a very well-known racing family, who said: âWe are so incredibly proud not only of his achievements in the saddle but of the extraordinary young man he had become. He was full of kindness, integrity, ambition, and love, always striving to be the best person he could be.â
Jennifer Pugh, chief medical officer of the Irish Horseracing Regulatory Board, said Michaelâs âdedication, modesty, and kind nature always made him a pleasure to be around âMichaelâs success and his humility will have inspired manyâ.
Irish Examiner racing correspondent Tommy Lyons said he was âa Grade One jockey and a Grade One human beingâ.
History lesson
It is perhaps appropriate that Munich should be chosen as the location for America to provide a lecture to allies on the war in Ukraine and our responsibilities. It is, after all, where
another small country was sold out by so-called âGreat Powersâ. Judging by their actions last week, it seems unlikely that either Donald Trump or JD Vance have much of a grasp on history. However, the model they should focus on is the secret pact signed by Soviet and German foreign ministers Molotov and von Ribbentrop 85 years ago this summer.
The Nazi-Soviet non-aggression pact divided Europe into âspheres of influenceâ and led, almost immediately, to the simultaneous invasion of Poland. Itâs the textbook example of how a world war can be started without reference to anyone else. Just as well then that, in the US president, we have a self-
acknowledged master of âthe art of the dealâ.
We can all sleep more soundly at night in that knowledge...