Heroes And Villians

ery many people around the country identify with us Irish. Tens of millions of Americans and British and Ozzies, and more. Hordes of others look to us for example, for inspiration or just because they like the way we do things. Call them crazy, but it’s true. Amazingly, there are people out there, for example in Europe, who still think we have some kind of handle on the world, on priorities, on time and on the soul.

Would we agree? I doubt it. But what are we to ourselves? I mean, go behind the flags and chants and feel-good sporty stuff, and what do we see? Who and what do the Irish think are the Irish, and what defines them, what shapes their personality, their style, their take on the world, their identity?
Well, if we collectively looked in a mirror, we might see two photographs from last week of two men from the Midwest looking back at us. One is Keith Wood, battered, emotional, defeated but heroic and dignified for all that. The other is Liam Keane, walking free from the Central Criminal Court after his trial collapsed and giving the waiting photographers the two fingers.
One of the characteristics of great sports people is the way they can embody spirit and collective personality, how representative they are. They become us.
And in the great team sports, whether football, hurling or rugby, it goes a step further. The team becomes us, good and bad. But within the team, something else happens. The individual is subsumed and a collective loyalty is generated…
There’s a whole science to this, and you’ll all have read about footballers going off on SAS training weeks and other team-building and bonding exercises, precisely to engender this sense of camaraderie and collectivity and group loyalty. And anyone who works in a modern management environment is likely to have encountered something similar.
It’s now embedded in latter-day corporate organisation. But it’s not far at all from the kind of loyalty we can see in gangs and criminal families. It’s a paradox of our society that what we find praiseworthy in some we find despicable in others.
And it is always hard, when considering these things, not to wonder what it is in the backgrounds of Keith Wood and Liam Keane that maps out their path to where they are, one ending a career in sport in great honour and setting out on another in business, and the other living in a family-dominated ghetto in Limerick, giving the world two fingers.
Is it nature or nurture or some combination of both? Is it to do with our society? Is it Limerick and Killaloe?
It’s regrettable that consideration of questions like this is so predictable and so polarised. The hang-‘em-or-flog-‘em brigade argue that it’s nature and that nobody has to turn to crime, and those characterised by Bertie Ahern as ‘do-gooders’ argue the opposite, that it’s all to do with social inequality and disadvantage.
That there is some truth in both is no consolation to any of us. But we need to remember that the vast majority of people from less well-off families do not resort to crime and indeed, that if you factor in white collar crime, it’s clear that the spread of criminal activity covers all social classes.
We do know that criminals carefully weigh the returns from their activities. They calculate risks and possible profits with the zeal of Wall Street dealers. If the payoff isn’t good enough or the risks are too high, they won’t do it.
Being caught and going to prison is one of the risks. And sadly, in this country, a lot of criminals learn very early that they probably won’t be caught, or if they are, they will be out in jig-time. By the time they are older and harder, they have lost sight of the civic framework that most of us live with and have found their place in another. They’re used to it. It’s their way of life.
It’s not sustainable. They should be caught and they should pay the price if guilty. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t also reorganise our social and other services to lessen disadvantage and prevent crime before it starts.
That’s what the Children Act was supposed to do. It was passed a couple of years ago to deal with crime by young people and set out what was described as a ‘restorative justice model’. Offenders would have to face their victims. But it is essentially preventive and socially progressive.
Trouble is, as a recent conference of the Penal Law Reform Trust heard, the funds haven’t been made available to implement it properly or fully.
Sadly, whereas many people ring radio stations to ‘tell their story’ and often to rant about crime, very few ask why the devil the Children Act hasn’t been made operational as a matter of priority. And that’s why the money goes all over the place but never manages to make a difference. These are the choices that we allow politicians to make.
And what answer does that give to the question I posed at the top?
We’re all over the place. There’s a hero inside trying to break out. And there’s a villain as well. We’re selfless and selfish all at the same time. We’re your best friend and our own worst enemy. We pat ourselves on the back and give ourselves two fingers. We’re happy for people to love us around the world, but when they come here to live we’re a lot less pleased.
We need to cop on.