Monday, August 31, 2015

Signs suggest Ireland’s economic recovery is over



Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.
The saying, which is often (but perhaps wrongly) attributed to Albert Einstein, frequently comes to mind when I see people quoting statistics that support their of view in debates around the economy.
Notwithstanding the above, one data point that I was looking forward to citing in my own reports on the Irish economy this year was the expected return of Irish GDP to pre-crisis levels.

In the event, the CSO spoiled the party by announcing at the end of July that, contrary to previous estimation, this milestone was actually already reached (without anyone noticing) in the third quarter of 2014.
Perhaps we should have guessed that this was going to happen. While individual Irish economic statistics can be (sometimes significantly) distorted by idiosyncrasies relating to the large multinational sector, which demands an element of caution when interpreting individual releases, the consistent message that we should have taken from the data was that the economy was expanding at a blistering pace.

In the event, Irish GDP soared by a remarkable 5.2% in 2014, putting Ireland second only to The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg in Europe’s growth charts. What an unlikely outcome for a country that, after all, only exited an EU-IMF bailout in December 2013.

While we are all familiar with the horrific cost of the economic crisis, the numbers behind the misery suffered by so many still make for stark reading.

In GDP terms, Ireland’s economy contracted by a tenth between the high water mark (Q4 2007) of the Celtic Tiger era and the Q3 2009 nadir. Unemployment vaulted from the 4%-5% range of the Tiger period to a peak of 15.1% by late-2011. In net terms, Ireland swung from being an ‘importer’ of people to exporting 140,000 (more than the population of Cork City) over the first five years of the crisis. Retail sales imploded by a quarter in volume terms between the start of 2008 and the start of 2010. Household net worth fell by €277bn between Q2 2007 and Q2 2012.

The public finances deteriorated sharply, with the ratio of gross general government debt to GDP increasing five-fold between 2007 and 2012.

Over the past 18 months, or so, the economic revival has been equally stark. GDP regained all of the territory lost and now stands 4% above the previous all-time high. Total employment (+3.0% y/y in Q2 2015) has increased for 11 successive quarters. Last week’s QNHS release showed unemployment rate is at a six-and-a-half year low of 9.6%. Net emigration has moderated to 11,600 from the peak of 34,400 recorded in 2012.
Consumer confidence improved to a nine year high in June, while retail sales have posted 20 successive months of growth on an annual basis. Household net worth has returned to 2008 levels. The public finances are also trending in the right direction, with the ratio of gross general government debt to GDP falling to a four year low of 104.7% in Q1 2015.

With many economic indicators back above or approaching pre-crisis levels, it seems inappropriate to describe Ireland as still being in the recovery stage. The economy looks set to grow by more than 5% this year, putting it firmly in expansion mode.

That is not to say that the rising tide has lifted all boats. Household debt and unemployment are still high.
Some politicians have pledged to ‘end the cycle of boom and bust’, but for a small open economy that seems unrealistic. Ireland will always be influenced by external developments.

As the parties prepare to set out their stalls ahead of the election, perhaps voters should consider another quote from Mr Einstein – “Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning”

By Philip O’Sullivan who is Chief Economist for Ireland with Investec Bank plc

10 money moans of modern life

10 money moans of modern life
ATMs that only dispense €50 notes, bars that don’t do cash-back and taxi drivers who don’t realise it’s their job to have change: how you make our blood boil

Money – or, more often, the lack of it – brings many problems. Some of those problems are life and death; others are not so serious – just annoying. Here are some of them.

Rage against the machine
You know the score: you put your card into an ATM and are dismayed to find that it will only dispense €50 notes. But you only have €48 left in your account because it’s the end of the month. So you’re snookered. Would it kill banks to put more lower denomination notes in their machines?
In 2013, the banks promised to start dispensing €10 notes alongside €20 notes and €50 notes in tacit recognition that not everyone is Donald Trump. But €10 notes are still rare, and heaven forbid they’d consider putting some €5 notes into the mix.

Bar fly into a fury
The pub is packed and the jostling for the attention of the barman is frantic. You’ve been standing in line for a lifetime, but now you’re just one person away from getting your pint. Then that one person asks if they can pay for their solitary drink with a debit card. The barman has to find the machine, key in the details, wait for it to connect, then hand it to the person, who has to remember the pin and then wait for a receipt before your shout-in.
And they don’t even get cash-back, so the palaver is likely to be repeated within the hour.

Cash back off 
Or maybe the bar doesn’t do cash-back. I mean, why would it bother? It is only handy for both consumers and bar owners. It allows us to avoid the stupid queues at the ATM while accessing the last €10 we have resting in our account, while also reducing the amounts of cash the bar has to transport to the bank once closing time comes.
Bars, shops, restaurants, taxi drivers: they should all be encouraged or incentivised by banks to offer cash-back as standard. Everyone’s a winner.

Ready or not
The person ahead of you in the supermarket stares keenly as their shopping makes its way up the conveyor belt and into the bagging area. They bag their goods promptly and all is well. Then they are asked for money and respond with such surprise that it’s as if the cashier has asked them to run away to a Kurdistan village for a shotgun wedding and a new life on a goat farm. Is it that hard to have your chosen method of payment ready when the big moment comes?
And while we’re at the cash register, could everyone please be more organised when it comes to tidying up their purchases and putting their cards back in their wallets? Or to put it another way: hurry up, we have places to go.

Copper on to yourself
Speaking of delays, how annoying is it to be standing behind someone who is paying for their lunch exclusively with coppers? The money gets counted out. “I think that’s right,” they will say, even though they are 100 per cent sure it is right. So is the cashier, but they still count it out, too. It is all so infuriating.
The only thing more infuriating than standing behind someone who is paying for lunch exclusively with coppers is being that person. Or being the cashier waiting for all the pennies to drop.

No more 99s
Most people believe that the reason things are priced in amounts ending in .99 is to fool us into thinking things are cheaper than they are. The real reason, according to Bill Bryson is that the mechanical registers of the 19th century could not issue receipts or do internal tallies, so the only way a manager could know a sale was taking place was through the sound of the cash register opening. If everything was priced at numbers ending in 9, then cashiers always had to open the tills to give a penny in change, so every sale was audible.
Registers are better now, so maybe we could dispense with the price anomaly?

That’s rich
It’s hard not to be annoyed by people who always insist on talking about how skint they are when you know damn well they have loads of money. Obviously bragging about how much money one has is a lot worse. Still, it is mildly infuriating to hear someone bang on about how tough life is as they spoon expensive deli soup into their gobs at lunchtime. They are probably the same ones who came out of exam halls claiming to have performed miserably, only to excel every single time. Grrrr.

It cost how much?
People endlessly bragging about their bargain-hunting skills and people endlessly boasting about their expensive stuff are cut from the same cloth. Bigging yourself up is always bad.

Earning power
Irish people tend to be very reticent when it comes to how much they earn, and this is a good thing. Every now and then, however, you will meet someone who loves to talk about the money they make. Typically they will use terms like “serious wedge” and “moolah”, and they may or may not have once worked at a senior level in one of the banks that cost us all so dearly. If they weren’t complete bankers, they were accountants or solicitors or estate agents who were profiting from the dodgy goings-on in our financial houses.

Changing times
Taxi drivers get a bad rap, but by and large they are fine. They are not so fine when they make a big song and dance about giving you change, however. There are some taxi drivers who forget that they work in a business that requires them to have a float, and they will think nothing of asking a passenger who hands them a €20 to cover a €10 fare if they don’t have “anything smaller”.

And speaking of taxi drivers and money, how annoying is it when they automatically tip themselves? You know the way it goes: the fare comes to €9.50 and you give them a tenner, after which an awkward stand-off ensues. Stand your ground. It’s your money and you don’t have to give it to away just because they think you should.
Conor Pope

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Photo Minute: Can you do better than these??












‘Conned’: a German view of Ireland

Chancellor Merkel has “contempt” for Ireland’s bankers. But they are just one part of an elite that exploits the island shamelessly.
Anyone who wants to understand why Ireland could be so rich yet will probably remain poor should learn about Ray Burke. In Ireland, Ray Burke is almost as well known as James Joyce, Samuel Beckett or the U2 singer Bono who, in his sunglasses, always looks like a pudgy fly. People in Ireland don’t have positive thoughts about Ray Burke. After all, he sold their future.


Ireland has been trapped in a never-ending crisis since its gigantic property bubble burst. The banks, above all Anglo Irish Bank, worked ceaselessly to pump fresh money into the already overheated property market – which finally collapsed with the outbreak of the financial crisis of 2008.

The ruined Anglo Irish Bank has just made headlines posthumously after the Irish Independent published transcripts of telephone calls from September 2008. On the tapes you can hear how high-ranking bankers make fun of the crisis. The €7 billion emergency assistance that they demanded from the government would be paid back when they have the money, the bankers agree jokingly – “in other words: never”. That money won’t be enough anyway, says one department head, as he pulled the €7 billion figure “out of my arse”.
The journalist and author Fintan O’Toole says: “The reaction here in Dublin is very interesting. Hearing directly [the bankers’]boundless contempt is shocking. And everyone knows: we are paying for what they left behind.”

In a now legendary all-night sitting on September 29th, 2008 the Irish government agreed to guarantee all bank debts. O’Toole calls this the “most disastrous decision that was ever made by an Irish government”. At least two generations of taxpayers will pay off these debts. O’Toole makes an excellent job of charting the Irish path to disaster in his book Ship of Fools, in which he calls the accounts of Anglo Irish Bank the “most inventive work of Irish fiction since Ulysses”.

The oil off the Irish coast could be the way out of this misery. The oil could be the hope. If the former energy minister Ray Burke hadn’t rewritten the relevant laws as though the oil industry itself held the pen. And if Bertie Ahern hadn’t made an already bad deal for the Irish people even worse.

Burke was energy minister in 1987, when it was decided to change the provisions for oil and grass drilling licence allocation. Until then the state owned 50 per cent of all oil and gas found in Irish waters. In addition, companies had to pay royalties of between 8 and 16 per cent as well as 50 per cent tax. (1, see notes below)

The new rule gave companies 100 per cent of their find and abolished licence fees. In 1992 Bertie Ahern, then finance minister and later prime minister from 1998 to 2008, cut the tax for oil companies to 25 per cent – a provision that remains to this day. (2)
Increasing numbers of Irish people no longer accept this. For instance, the fisherman Joey Murtagh. Standing on the edge of Dublin Bay, with a glorious view over the Irish Sea, he asks: “You know what Ray Burke did?”

Or the psychologist Aisling Murphy. She sits in Dalkey in a pub called The Queen’s, where chicken and tacos are today’s special. Murphy asks: “You know what Ray Burke brought on us?”

The financial adviser Eddie Hobbs has arranged to meet at the motorway restaurant Brown’s Barn, 15km south of Dublin. He asks: “You’re aware of Ray Burke?”
Burke was always surrounded by corruption allegations and went to prison in 2005 because of tax fraud.

The reason this political inheritance is causing such animated discussion now is because of huge oil and gas reserves believed to surround the island. The company Providence estimates the volume of oil it discovered in the Barryroe field, south of Cork, at over 1.7 billion barrels, of which at least 270 million can be pumped. Further test drillings in Irish waters have been similarly promising.

At the moment a barrel of oil costs, depending on grade, between $90 and $100, meaning there could be oil worth many billions of euro in the Irish sea bed. (3) Even the oil companies concede that Ireland is surrounded by massive riches. But the Irish will probably gain none of this thanks to men like Ray Burke and Bertie Ahern.

Screwed over again
Murtagh says: “We are being screwed over again with every trick in the book.” Murphy: “We are a land that lies still while we are bled dry.” Hobbs: “The oil companies won’t succeed on this front. Not this time.” O’Toole: “Under the current conditions, it would be better if the resources stayed in the ground.”
But they aren’t staying there.
In April the American oil giant ExxonMobil began test drillings in the Dunquin Field southwest of Ireland. Off the west coast, Shell is extracting gas from the Corrib field, a source of often violent confrontations with residents for many years.

Two weeks ago the current energy minister Pat Rabbit urged representatives of 70 companies to invest in gas and oil extraction in Ireland. He said: “It is a priority of the Government to encourage investment in oil and gas extraction off the Irish coast and to optimise the value of the discoveries for Ireland.”

Only the Government isn’t making much progress with the optimisation. In May 2012 an Oireachtas committee appointed by Minister Rabbitte presented a report. After examining the rules introduced by Burke and Ahern, they came to the conclusion that it would be better to leave everything as it is.

Oil companies could scarcely find better terms than in Ireland. In most oil- and gas-producing countries in the world the state taps on average 70 per cent of the profits. In Ireland there is just the 25 per cent tax, though this can rise to 40 per cent on particularly rich fields. But Irish rules allow companies to write off all costs for test drillings over 25 years, regardless of where they were carried out, meaning the Irish State ends up with considerably less than 25 per cent.

Opposition is building through Hobbs’s “Own Our Oil” campaign. It is preparing a report looking into how Ireland could profit from its resources, prepared by experts from Ireland and other oil-producing countries.

He points to Norway, where most of the profits from oil production go to the company Statoil– the majority of which is owned by the state. In this way Norway has become one of the richest countries on Earth. The study is to be presented at a major conference and then handed over to government.

“We’re making good headway,” says Hobbs, “and may be finished this year.”
Hobbs is well-known in Ireland thanks to his 2005 television programme Rip-Off Republic. He is viewed as a consumer champion and is known for his populist, biting attacks on the establishment. He became an enemy of the oil industry after the company Providence made a tactical error.

Last September Providence managed to acquire a licence for test drillings in Dublin Bay. How this was possible is puzzling as the bay is a natural conservation area. The platform was to have stood 10km from the coast and would have been visible from land. The residents of Dalkey were the first to mobilise against the plans. Dalkey is a well-heeled suburb of Dublin in which many celebrities and intellectuals live, resulting in the protest being mocked in many newspapers as a revolt of the rich.

But the well-organised protesters also got a hearing and Hobbs took note. He says: “These people were the first to open my eyes to what happens to the oil.” Murphy and Murtagh are some of these people.

Murtagh says: “We became engaged because this was to take place before our eyes. But then it became bigger.” Murtagh has gone to sea since 1972 and has first-hand experience of how Ireland sold its other big resource: fish. Irish fishing waters are regarded as the best in Europe.
On EU entry in 1973 the Irish negotiated a deal that appeared good, but only at first glance: allowing other EU states into their waters to fish in exchange for money for Irish farmers. Murtagh says: “14.2 per cent of European seas are Irish. But we are allowed have only 2.6 per cent of the fish.”

Murtagh’s thesis: Ireland has paid back twice in fish every euro of EU aid received. The Dutch, Spanish, French come with industrial ships and empty Irish waters while EU fisheries policy keeps him ashore. As he talks Murtagh, 57, has tears in his eyes. (4)
Murphy says that the protest in Dublin Bay has triggered something among her friends.
“You have to know that we Irish have no experience in confrontation. Here it’s usual not to make a fuss. On top of that is something that, in psychological terms, you call ‘acquired helplessness’. You find this, for example, among abused women. Ireland doesn’t defend itself. Ireland quietly puts up with it.”

But a new fighting spirit is palpable since the group in Dalkey formed, Murphy says.
“This is completely new, even for me,” she says. “I was raised that institutions are always right and that you don’t raise any objection.”

Great diplomats, terrible politicians
Hobbs says the Irish always tried to find a third way. “You never have good and evil here, right or wrong. What you always have is people who are somewhat good or a little bit right. Above all, we are good at compromise out of fear of insulting the other. That’s why we have produced great diplomats and terrible politicians.”

It’s the same in the oil affair: “The position is, don’t start a row with the oil industry. They should find something and then we’ll find a solution. But there are Irish people who know that now is the time to do something. The only question is: will it be done the easy way or the hard way?”

The fighting spirit of the group from Dalkey was given a lift when their protest had an effect. Last February Providence handed back the licence to drill in Dublin Bay. The official reason was that, though they met all environmental requirements, the Government made a mistake in implementing an EU directive on environmental protection. The unofficial speculation in Dalkey is that the firm was weary of the negative publicity.

After the oil finds off Cork in 2012, Providence, in particular its boss Tony O’Reilly jr, was more than happy to be in the public eye. He promised that all of Ireland would profit. But with growing numbers of Irish people asking why the country profits so little from the resources, it has become increasingly difficult to contact Providence.

Emails from the Süddeutsche Zeitung from last November were answered with a question. Who else apart from Providence was the newspaper talking to, a spokeswoman asked, while keeping alive the hope of a meeting. Then no emails were answered for some time after they apparently landed in the spam folder. In February, a request for a meeting was declined as all managers were on the road, but the company would send materials. That never happened. A series of questions posed this week went unanswered.

That may have something to do with the fact that Providence boss O’Reilly jr is not used to critical questions. His father Tony O’Reilly is one of Ireland’s richest men and his company, Independent News & Media, owns more than 130 radio stations, 100 commercial websites and more than 200 newspapers worldwide – including more than 20 in Ireland. 

O’Reilly jr prefers to speak in safe surroundings. A week ago he told the oil industry website Rigzone that Ireland’s tax regulations were “appropriate for the current state of the industry”. Ireland doesn’t have enough money to search for oil itself and thus, O’Reilly said, needs investors from abroad – and attracts them with low tax rates.

In fact, Ireland has had good experience with low tax rates: a section of the Irish economy booms because of large international companies like Microsoft and Google, which have settled in Ireland because of the low corporate tax rate of 12.5 per cent. This sector is what the Irish Government points to when it says things are improving.

But since 2008, Ireland’s domestic market has been in the cellar, with dramatic consequences. More than 300,000 Irish people have emigrated in the last four years, 40 per cent aged between 18 and 24. That would be the equivalent of 5.4 million people leaving Germany (population 82 million). The State has to make savings, meaning ever less money is available for education, which means there won’t be enough trained staff for international companies – the only economic sector that is working.

“In countries like Greece or Spain the youth go on the street and protest,” says O’Toole. “In Ireland, they emigrate. Now our young people are also leaving because they don’t want to pay back the debts of our bankers.”

The publication of the Anglo Irish Bank telephone calls has revived the outrage. In one extract a banker says: “The strategy is to pull [the government] in, so that they write a big cheque. If they realise the scale of this from the start, they might say it is too expensive for the taxpayer.”

It demonstrated to the Irish public like never before how they were conned ruthlessly by a shameless elite. Even Chancellor Merkel commented on the case. On Thursday evening she said: “I have nothing but contempt for that.”
O’Toole says: “The interesting question now is whether the fury will focus. Whether the people perhaps choose the issue of oil to say: that’s enough. If even Third World dictators can agree better deals with oil companies, why can’t we?” 

He answers his own question: “The Government always views itself in a weak position. All important financial decisions are being taken by the troika of the European Central Bank, European Commission and International Monetary Fund. The Government merely implements. That leads to a situation where they are psychologically incapable of acting independently.”

The fisherman Joey Murtagh, the psychologist Aisling Murphy, the financial adviser Eddie Hobbs and the author Fintan O’Toole want to make sure that, on this matter, the last word has not been spoken. That the Irish people no longer have to pay for institutional stupidity and greed.

“It is completely un-Irish what we’re doing here,” said Murphy, “but perhaps we are the start of something new.”
She laughs very cautiously when she says: “Seen that way, perhaps we’re a kind of avant garde.”

By Christian Zaschke 
– (Copyright: Süddeutsche Zeitung.) 

Friday, August 28, 2015

Photo Minute: Please don't go...please.

These pets have just been told by their owners that they are going away on holidays without them. Every emotional trick and gesture  is used by the pets to try and stop them going.












Remembering Little Nellie in the fight for universal health care

EVERY time I see a picture of Little Nellie Organ I want to get sick. The horror of it. The dying four-year-old trussed up in a chair in the bridal gown of a First Communicant. The pasty face and the huge staring eyes. It is a repulsive image.

We should be ashamed of Little Nellie Organ, not proud of her. She died from TB in the hospital of an industrial school in the Good Shepherd Convent in Sunday’s Well, Cork in 1907. Not only were her lungs destroyed by the disease, it had crippled her spine and crumbled her jaw, which was stinking and coming away in pieces.

Even children who got the best care died horrible deaths in Ireland in the early 20th century; sadly, it happens even today. But poor children died those deaths far more often than well-off children because they lived in unsanitary conditions and had little or no access to medical care. In the early and mid-twentieth century, parentless children in Ireland were more than four times more likely to die in infancy than children with parents.

Little Nellie Organ was not the poorest of the poor. Her father was a soldier in the Royal Artillery, then stationed on Spike Island. But Nellie’s mother’s death of TB in 1907 dealt a killer blow to the family, as happens so often in poor families. To this day in sub-Saharan Africa the death of a mother spells death for her child in three-quarters of all cases.

Nellie’s mother would have guessed the probable fate of her family as she lay dying of TB. Devotional literature has her clutching her rosary beads as she turned her last months “almost entirely to God”: “Towards the end”, continues the Mystics of the Church website, “ she clung to Nellie with such transports of affection that the child had to be torn, almost rudely, from her dying embrace.”

Little Nellie Organ, then three years old, was infected with her mother’s TB and without doubt severely traumatised. Barely a year later the little girl was dead. The details of her last year are heart-breaking, even through the rose-tinted spectacles which they are recorded.

What hope for a motherless family? Nellie’s father could not look after his family as well as work for their living (though that is what we expect of single parents today). A neighbour was drafted in to help with the sick and grief-stricken children but this did not work out. One account has Nellie being dropped by “a childminder” but all the evidence suggests that it was the TB which crippled Nellie’s back.
In the end, Thomas, David, Mary and Nellie met the fate of most poor, motherless children of their day and were farmed out to different charitable organisations. The entire family disappears from the accounts at this point as the cult of Nellie is being built.

But I want to ask different questions, like what happened to little Mary Organ, not much older than her sister Nellie and also with the Good Shepherds, but not quite so movingly pathetic? Why was Nellie’s father not at his daughter’s funeral?
No, instead was have Little Nellie of Holy God, deathly white amidst the white sheets and tended by gentle nuns and nurses.

“Holy God took my mudder but he has given me you to be my mudder”, said Nellie to a certain Miss Hall, who was nursing her. Every detail of this story breaks my heart, even Nellie playing with a little black kitten on the floor.

The little girl’s devotion to “Holy God” seemingly began when she formed a fascination with a statue of the Child of Prague. She used to play the tin whistle to the statue and on one occasion she was convinced it was dancing for her.
But when it came to grief this poor little girl sadly had wisdom beyond her years. When the nuns were in distress over a sick woman Nellie apparently asked if she had children. Told that she was a mother many times over, Nellie said, “I will pray to Holy God and He will see that she’ll be cured.” The woman was cured, or else we would not have heard the story, and no doubt this is among the “miracles” being trumped up in an effort to have Little Nellie venerated.

Pope Pius X changed the age at which children can have their First Communion from 12 years to seven years, on hearing from the Bishop of Cork of the solace which receiving the Eucharist gave Little Nellie. The subtext here is about emotional support for the families of the vast numbers of children who were dying before they reached the age of reason.

Though I am not a Catholic I am married to a Catholic and my children made their First Communion at eight. Reason they had not, but I was enormously moved by what was for me the real meaning of the day: gratitude that my child had survived thus far and was likely to survive to adulthood. And I began to understand the emotion of tens of thousands of poor mothers down the years, bursting with pride as they brought to church a child who survived, dressed in white clothes it had taken all their wit and work to provide.

But I don’t want to know about Nellie’s body, exhumed for reburial in the grounds of the Good Shepherd convent a year after she died, and apparently “incorrupt” in its First Communion dress and “dainty little shoes.” Let’s not exhume her again, as the Bishop of Cork John Buckley has suggested, because the grounds are derelict and people want to pray to her.

We shouldn’t be praying to her, but for her - and the thousands of tiny children who lie in unmarked graves in the grounds of industrial schools and Magdalene laundries all over the country. Nellie is a stereotypical Victorian/Edwardian dying child icon, like Dickens’s Little Nell or like Pearse’s Iosagan. Her cult does mean that people were becoming more aware of children but it was designed to help them accept the terrible toll of infant deaths.

In Ireland this cult of acceptance delayed the foundation of our national health service. It was the anger, not acceptance, which stopped this slaughter of the innocents: the anger of politicians like Noel Browne whose own mother died of TB without even calling the doctor she could not afford to pay; the anger of health professionals like Chief Medical Officer Dr. James Deeny who stopped the eradication of “illegitimate” babies by infection in Bessboro Mother and Baby Home in Cork.


I believe anger, not acceptance, is the Christian response to the idea that children must die young because they are poor or orphaned. Let’s keep Little Nellie in the ground and fight on for universal health care.
Victoria White

Thursday, August 27, 2015

MS sufferer taken to prison for unpaid parking fine

A man with multiple sclerosis who displays a disabled driver badge in his car was arrested and taken to Cork Prison in his wheelchair after refusing to pay a €40 parking fine.



David Tyrrell, from Midleton, Co Cork, spent 15 minutes being processed at the jail before being allowed to leave.
He branded the entire process a disgraceful waste of taxpayers’ money, with estimates putting the cost of courts, gardaí, and prison officials’ time on the case at close to €9,000.
“All of this for a €40 fine. It’s just crazy,” he said.

Mr Tyrrell, who was diagnosed with MS about eight years ago, walks with the aid of two canes, and has to use a wheelchair when his condition affects his balance.

He told the Neil Prendeville Show on RedFM yesterday that he received the fine after parking his car off Cornmarket St in Cork City some months ago. He said he wasn’t parked illegally.
He said as he walked back to the car using his canes, he explained to the traffic warden that a disabled driver’s badge was on display in his car. But he said the warden replied: “I don’t fucking believe you — everyone in this country can have one of those.”

Mr Tyrrell refused on principle to pay the fine and contacted the local authority. He was summonsed to court to pay an increased €90 fine but he said that, following a worsening of his MS, he was hospitalised when the court case was heard.

A garda arrived at his home a few weeks ago with a warrant for his arrest, and took him in his wheelchair to Cork Prison. When it was discovered that his 21”-wide wheelchair wouldn’t fit into a prison cell, he was photographed, fingerprinted, and allowed to leave. His wife took him home.
“It took me longer to get up and down from home than I was actually in the prison,” he said.


Cork City Council was not available for comment on the case.
Eoin English