From Bath to Cork with Baby Grace

I must admit I’ve often wished I could say I hadn’t followed the trial of Joe O’Reilly.

I’m suspicious of public opinion (including my own) when it comes to murder trials. Humans have often proved themselves capable of mob justice and fashion-driven opinion.

I was very surprised when I heard the verdict. 

I expected an acquittal. But I kept saying to myself ‘the jury in not in the same position’.  The jury heard the full story.

Actually, the jury didn’t hear the full story. There was no such thing.  The jury heard what the judge permitted them to hear from evidence which the director of public prosecutions (or whatever that role is called here) permitted the police to present.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I read the Sunday newspapers, and more today.  If the jury had acquitted, and all the extra stuff had come out, how would members of the jury have felt?

We should all be grateful to that jury, I think. 

Grateful, not so much for the verdict, but for the way in which the individual members of the jury put themselves on the line, and took responsibility for hearing and determining the outcome.  The rest of us can take that responsibility foregranted. We can think little of the burden each individual juror carried throughout such a publicly celebrated trial. 

The judge too.  His was a remarkable job.  Every syllable open to public scrutiny.

I did jury service in Wood Green (London) years ago. 

I remember how educative the whole process was… how impressed I was by a judge whom I might so easily have dismissed as a doddery old foggy… how carefully all the jury deliberated… how unimpressive the prosecution was compared with the defence…

I learned the difference between ’stealing’ and ‘dealing in stolen property’. I would willingly do jury service again.

But, what if I was jury on a murder trial where all the evidence was circumstantial?  Would I be so keen to assume such responsibility, when required to exercise intelligent judgement for days and days?  Could I be serious for that long? There is little hiding room among a jury of 11 people.

Even if the jury got it wrong, I’d say the jury system is a good one. 

(I don’t mean to imply that this particular jury got it wrong.) People drawn into jury service tend to be responsible and, if there are some who don’t start out being all that responsibly-minded, the legal process is capable of transforming people into responsible citizens.  Or so I think.  

ps  I see Sarah Carey’s written her view too… 

While driving home from an Aware meeting last night, I missed Vincent Browne on RTE radio.

Instead, there was some acoustic music programme broadcast from the Limerick studio.

Only then did it hit me how much I feel I’ve lost something important, by not being able to listen to Browne’s report from the Tribunal.  Yes, I can read about it in newspapers but that’s no substitute for the audio reconconstruction.

I think Browne has been reporting on, and analysing, the work of the Tribunals for about 10 years. Now we have lost the radio programme.  The woman responsible for RTE radio programming has struck again.  She got rid of Rattlebag: I was disappointed and angry.  Now, she’s got rid of a serious public service broadcasting gem: I am shocked at how little public reaction there has been.

The last line in Vincent Browne’s column in The Irish Times today says

"If we don’t care a toss whether our politicians are honest or not why bother with tribunals at all?" 

He seems to be weary of the public disinterest in the tribunals.  I feel despairing of the public interest. It’s as if public opinion is narrow, domestic, parochial and lacking in any nobility.

But it’s probably that I’m tired today and drained of the energy I need to rise above everyday mediocrity. 

Browne’s off to write a biography of Charlie Haughey.

I suspect he’s swapped the enthusiasm he used to feel for rooting out public corruption in return for an opportunity to exercise his artistic side.

Meanwhile, where will that woman from Radio Foyle stike next? 

"Now, more than ever before,

we have to fight in order to erradicate dominant humdrum vulgarity,

to undertake with clarity and quality an education

to enrich man through art and culture…"

This make me think how important it is to pick and display words carefully.   I must do my bit.

"I believe that true intelligence is to have an awareness of the moment of a whole existence, in order to play with this marvellous and fabulous experiment and to be able to laugh at foolishness, at what is called important…"

So said Cesar Manrique. 

I’m going to do some work with people in Arts organisations in Ireland. 

I’m getting into the mood.

My family is deeply divided by the visitor centre at the Cliffs.

On one side are those who admire the development, love the use of Liscannor Stone, find the steps that stretch up each side to be excellent, find the interior to be visually striking and the content to be suitably educational. They love the way the Visitor Centre gives pleasure to those who can’t climb up the incline.

On the other side are those who dislike the commercialisation of a wild place, find the content of the interpretation to be purile, an inauthentic package for tourists. Whatever good they might see in the external design, they find the Visitor Centre to be a poor trick designed to coax tourists to stay longer, spend more and increase the bed occupancy rate.  They insist that the new Cliffs experience contributes little to the local community.

The sister (number 2), the brother-in-law and the brother (number 2) line up on one side.  The mother, the Wiffe, Grace and I line up on the other.  The family is deeply divided.

During the holiday, I went twice.  I expected it to be expensive. But at 8 euros for a whole car load, including entry to the centre (though there is another 4 euro fee to go into the interpretation area), I thought it good value for money - especially when the weather outside was fierce.

What I love most of all is the debate the Centre provokes.  It makes me think about questions, like

(1)  what is the most desirable role for tourism?

(2)  in what sense does a local community own such a major attraction?

(3)  is it best to conserve or preserve? 

(4)  what sort of balance can be struck between the impulse to educate and the impulse to amuse?

and so on…

I urge you to go west and see for yourself.  1m people visit the place every year.  It may be Ireland’s most popular ’sight’.

If you’ve been there, it would be great to have your view. 

Straight back into work this morning, I needed a book.

My copy is buried in the shipment of belongings that’ll arrive in Cork in August.  I’ve never been without my Belbin for the best part of 20 years.  When I began as a management consultant I found Belbin’s work on teams.  I’ve used it on most teamworking projects.  It’s based on excellent research in UK about what makes teams effective. The original research was done in the late 70s or early 80s, and ithe conclusions have been updated and refined in the 2003 edition.

So I thought it would be easy to get another copy.

 1.   I looked on Amazon.co.uk - a 7-day wait advertised (too long for my needs)

2.    I phoned O’Mahonys the Limerick bookshop - no copy in stock: they offered to order it for me

3.    Phoned Waterstones Cork - same thing : they suggested John Smith’s bookshop at UCC or Russell’s, another Cork bookshop

4.     Phoned UCC bookshop - same thing.  I tried Russell’s too.  I gave up on Cork.  ‘I’ll go to the capitol’, I said to myself.

5.    Tried to find Hughes & Hughes, Dublin in Eircom directory enquiries: couldn’t find it

6.    Got Waterstones, Dublin, on Dawson Street - no joy: they suggested Hodges Figgis

7.    Hodges Figgis has a copy on order  and put my name on it, no obligation to buy.  I gave the good man my phone number.  He suggested Hughes & Hughes in Dun Laoire.

8. I tried Hughes & Hughes via Eircom again and this time I got the number and they gave me the ISBN (0750659106) but no book 

9. Hughes & Hughes in Dun Laoire suggested I contact the publisher who might know who had a copy. A splendid person gave me the name of the parent company, so I could go to the website.

10.    Elsevier.com contained a UK phone number to ring.  Back to the UK…  (where I lived for so long).  Then the experience changed from being very frustrating to being interesting.

11. The man who answered the phone at Elsevier told me the book was ‘withdrawn’.  3,000 copies in the warehouse.  I asked him if he knew of any bookshop which might have one. He said that no bookshop was allowed to sell them.  This has all happened recently - the book was withdrawn at the start of June or July 2007 (I forget which).  I said I was curious as to why the book had been withdrawn?  He said he too was curious and he would contact the person in charge of the publication at Butterworth-Heinemann.  He took my email address and offered to let me know.

And there the mystery stands.

What on earth is going on? 

I have to develop a plan B - run a teamworking event without Belbin at my side.  Browse the web because my memory isn’t reliable.

If anyone knows anything about this mystery, my curiosity continues.  Certainly the booksellers don’t know what’s going on…

I thought I’d get straight down to writing again.

But, instead I concentrated on reading… 

Catching up with other people’s blogs…

Leaving a few comments…

Now there is not time for writing…

I guess this means that I’m more curious than exhibitionist…

Anyway, it’s good to be back. 

I went there with Grace.

There wasn’t a single high-chair to be found in the restaurant.  I asked staff whether there had ever been a high-chair?  They said ‘No’.  There was no managerial presence in the restaurant.  I guess if two members of staff say there has never been a high-chair that means there is a policy of no high-chairs.

I’ve never come across such a policy at a ‘world class visitor centre’.

Have you?

I’m going back today with the Wiffe and Pauline and Grace, and if I can find a manager, I’ll ask.

ps I’m planning to write a review of our ‘visitor’ experience comparing and contrasting it with the Lanzarotte experience of visiting the Cesar Manrique designed centre which looks down from a great height across the sea (and I can’t remember the name…)