On The Record »

• We all protested

  January 23, 2012 @ 9:03 am | by Jim Carroll

  After the parties come the protests. In the last 12 months, you were no-one if you didn’t get out there, do some fuming, shake your fist and say that you were as mad as hell and were not going to take this anymore. Students, old age pensioners, the residents of Ballyhea and Clontarf, the various Occupy banner-holders, the Vita Cortex and La Senza workers, hospital patients, Dubs with bins, rural dwellers with septic tanks, well-heeled dog-owners and everyone else seemed to get annoyed, irked, unhappy, cross and raging (and even a mite dirty, in the case of the bins and septic tanks). People who don’t normally protest, really. We all protested.

  In some cases, the protests had the desired effect. A massive nationwide unhappiness with what happened towards the end of 14 years of Fianna Fail-led governments resulted in the Irish electorate turfing out the FF dynasties and failures last February to replace them with a Fine Gael and Labour government.

  Within six months, though, we were protesting at that FG/Labour government and the measures they were taking. The house never loses, but the government of the day who end up having take unpopular, unpalatable decisions which were agreed with our new paymasters under the previous regime and which never formed part of their raft of election promises can never win. It’s the reason why we don’t protest at the opposition all that much. Suddenly, the bet that FF will be back in power after the next general election doesn’t look as much of a wildcat punt as it did a year ago. We’ll probably protest about that too, if it happens because we vote for it, with those politicians whose default setting is protest (probably protesting at the fact that they’ll never get into power) leading the way.

  But while protests are a handy guage of popular anger about an issue of the day (or the issue of the day which gets the oxygen of a Liveline outing), you have to wonder what gets changed in the long-run. We’ve had the protests, but what’s next? Sure, there are short-term victories – for instance, Clontarf residents will point to the lack of a big wall blocking their houses from the sea as a victory, though none of them were getting too exercised about this three or years ago when it was first mooted – but such victories are more kick-the-can-down-the-road affairs. What will happen the next time that Dublin Bay decides to sweep across the Clontarf Road? Will every closed-down shop now mean worker sit-ins like La Senza before they get wages and payments to which they’re legally entitled?

  The bigger issues remain as constant as they’ve always done, yet our failure to tackle those issues is never quite addressed because we’re too busy fuming about other stuff. Take that well-worn, right-on political meme about the need for reform. Most of us pay lip service to this, but the truth is that we know full well that turkeys don’t vote for Christmas. The people who can make the move on political reform are the politicians in power and we all know how that one goes. Political reform is a great aul’ argument to throw out when the chattering classes need something to chew over, yet the public appetite for it just isn’t there no matter what we think. If it was, movements like We (Some of) the Citizens would have greater strength and support. It’s a big issue, it’s an important issue, but it’s not an immediate issue so it gets kicked down the road.

  It’s easier to protest about stuff other than the stuff which really matters because we know in our heart of hearts that we haven’t got the will or the way to change the bigger picture. The big issues, the economic and political stuff of the nation, remain the same from one protesting or accounting period to the next. It’s as if we fear what might really happen if these were to change. We will fume and fumigate about the austerity budgetary measures being taken and extra taxes being applied to allegedly get this country out of the economic mess it’s in. We cheer when a couple of lads from various troika organisations who are sent out to answer a few questions get Brownebeaten on TV. We give it all a dirty look and let that pass for protest. You see, despite what we might think, we still have too much to lose to go hell for leather down a road which leads to the kind of change we think we’re for.

  It’s when you’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain that protest really works. Look at the changes in the Arab world in the last year. Look at the chances and sacrifices and blood, sweat and tears it has taken to transform countries which many though would never change. From Egypt to Libya, the protests happened and changes, in one way or another, occured.

  In 2012, there will be many more protests in this little country. More taxation and punative measures to pay for the high jinks and gallivanting of the 0.5 per cent will mean more anger, but probably little resolution or change. At some stage, though, the question needs to be asked: we’ve all protested, so what the hell is next?

• OTR’s music story of the week: Metallica, Red Hot Chili Peppers and the euro crisis

  December 8, 2011 @ 9:57 am | by Jim Carroll

  Sometimes covering the music business beat is a bit like Groundhog Day with the same old issues coming up in new guises. You’ve technology stories, record-labels-are-bad-lads stories, record-labels-are-numpties’ stories, live music bandit stories, Ticketmaster stories and artists getting huffy stories. There are a couple of other regulars but, really, that’s how the cookie crumbles.

  Three cheers, then, for Metallica, Red Hot Chili Peppers and especially their manager Cliff Burnstein for providing us with this fascinating insight into how the euro crisis is causing very rich rock stars to panic about their European tours. If you and I are worried about whether the euros in our pockets will actually be worth anything once this weekend’s extraordinary events are over, that’s nothing compared to Metallica and the Chili Peppers, who believe that the impending gloom and doom in the old world may mean ruin for their pension plans.

  Both bands were originally not scheduled to tour in 2012, but brought forward their plans when the euro crisis began so ensure that the money they got paid would actually be worth more than a hill of beans. Which is why you have the Chili Peppers playing Croker next summer (how’s that one selling, Dinny?) and Metallica’s “European summer vacation” calling at Germany’s Rock Im Park and Rock Am Ring festivals (no sign of the band bringing Lou Reed with them, which is a good thing).

  Per manager Burnstein, “over the next few years, the dollar will be stronger and the euro weaker, and if that’s the case, I want to take advantage of that by playing more of these shows now, because they will be more profitable for us. We’re a US export the same way Coca-Cola is. We look for the best markets. And you have to ask yourself, what’s the best time to be doing what, when and where”.

  Those Yanks really do fear anything that’s not the dollar – and with good reason. The piece mentions former Guns N’ Roses bassist Duff McKagan who “once unwittingly spent $40,000 on expensive suits in Italy because he didn’t realize how much his purchases—then in Italian lira—were worth in dollars”. McKagan now runs Meridian Rock Capital Management, a wealth-management firm for rockers. At least, he’ll be able to advise clients if we go back to the lira, drachma and punt.

  It’s not the first time that rich rock stars have mused on the economy in recent times. Three years ago, Counting Crows cancelled an European tour, with the band blaming the credit crunch and currency fluctuations. Sadly, few promoters seized the opportunity to use “credit crunch” instead of “unforeseen circumstances” as a reason for cancelling poor performing shows.

• When Michael Lewis came to town

  February 3, 2011 @ 9:43 am | by Jim Carroll

  It may be an idea to print off Michael Lewis’ article from Vanity Fair and keep it by the front door for when a canvasser from a government party calls by over the next few weeks. After visits to Iceland and Greece, Lewis decided to have a look at Ireland. To be honest, there’s probably nothing in the piece you haven’t read already. There are interviews with economists like Morgan Kelly and David McWilliams and politicians like Brian Lenihan and Joan Burton and the obligatory visit to a ghost estate or two. Irish readers may find some of the colour angles in the piece a little too green – the fairy forts, the local driver, Achill Island et al – but remember that this is for a much different audience.

  But makes the piece really resonate at the moment is how Lewis clearly and calmly points out the madness of what happened here in September/October 2008 with that bank guarantee scheme. Under the outgoing government’s watch, we, the Irish taxpayer, took the hit for a private gambling spree. There’s one line in particular which really needs to be thrown in the face of every Fianna Fail, Green Party and independent who ever supported the government (yes, that’s you, Messrs Lowry, Healy-Rae, McGrath Tipp South and McGrath Dublin North-Central): “across the financial markets…people who had made a private bet that went bad, and didn’t expect to be repaid in full, were handed their money back—from the Irish taxpayer.” It was the equivalent of going on a gambling spree on the craps and blackjack tables in a Las Vegas casino and getting your losses back as you stumbled out the door.

  As it happens, I’m reading Lewis’ The Big Short at the moment and it’s a great yarn. As he showed in Liar’s Poker and The New New Thing (I’ve yet to read Moneyball, but I’m hoping that Kenny Dalglish will give me a lend of his copy soon – can’t wait to see how Moneyball justifies spending £35 million on Andy Carroll), Lewis has a great knack for brilliant narratives which can explain complex things. In The Big Short, he takes us back to where the banking crisis began and how maverick financial outsiders like Michael Burry realised what was going on in the sub-prime housing market long before anyone else. As the bubble grew, Burry and a couple of others realised the lunacy of what was going on and bet against the house, so to speak. When the bubble collapsed and Americans started defaulting, well, we know what happened next.

  I’m already looking forward to Lewis’ next book. It’s called Boomerang: Travels In the New Third World and it’s based on his travels in Iceland, Greece and little old Ireland. We’re box-office, baby.

• Bulls, bears and Fiddy

  January 14, 2011 @ 10:00 am | by Jim Carroll

  Crack dealer, actor, label boss, would-be fashion mogul, energy drink entrepreneur, video games’ producer, the most entertaining man on Twitter and, once in a while, rapper: is there anything that 50 Cent can’t do?

  Now, he’s even bested the stock exchange and made a lot of bucks in a few short hours. It was certainly an easier pay-day for Fiddy than acting in Jim Sheridan’s “Get Rich Or Die Tryin’” flick a few years ago.

  What the G-Unit hard-chaw did was simple. A few months ago, he acquired a bunch of shares in a crowd called H & H Imports, a company which were marketing his Sleek By 50 Cent headphones.

  Then, he went on Twitter and started to talk up the shares to his four million followers. “You can double your money right now”, he proclaimed. Nearly 10 million shares were traded in the next two days and the value of the company, including the rapper’s share, increased tenfold. Not a bad day’s work for firing up UberTwitter on his Blackberry.

  It’s not the first time Fiddy has shown considerable financial acumen. One of his best deals to date was acquiring a tenth of the Glaceau vitamin water company which was subsequently bought by Coca-Cola for over four billion dollars.

  However, providing financial advice is a new string to his bow and may well see him coming getting a rap on the knuckles from the financial authorities. A spokesman for the US Securities and Exchange Commission refused to confirm or deny if they would be investigating Fiddy’s share salesmanship. The original tweets were subsequently deleted.

  Of course, anyone who has had to listen to any of Fiddy’s recent albums will sincerely hope that he sticks to the bulls and bears. Hip-hop’s loss will be the stock exchange’s gain.

• The business of doing business

  November 1, 2010 @ 9:59 am | by Jim Carroll

  There are times when you can sense the indignation from the radio long before the text messages start to roll. Last Saturday morning, property developer Simon Kelly, a dude who says he owes €200 million to the banks, got a taste of what Seanie Fitzpatrick and, in a much earlier time, Joe Jacob experienced on run-ins with Marian Finucane.
  (more…)

• Whipping boys and scapegoats

  August 19, 2010 @ 9:16 am | by Jim Carroll

  Are you right there Michael, are you right? Chances are, like all returning holiday-makers, former banker Michael Fingleton had a lot of things on his mind when he landed at Dublin airport yesterday. He was probably trying to remember where he had left his house-keys, hoping there was some grub and a nice bottle of white wine in the fridge and wondering if he could have a lie-in the following morning.

  As he walked off the plane, in his canary-yellow holiday gear and Panama hat, the last thing he expected to see was a RTE camera crew. David Murphy’s report on last night’s news was one of those pieces of footage you know is destined to be played over and over and over again. Murphy pursued the reticent banker up stairs and out doors, with Fingers trying desperately to shake him off without (a) hitting him or (b) telling him to PFO. He muttered a few comments but nothing we didn’t expect to hear. We have seen this kind of footage before as a news crew go in pursuit of the latest public scapegoat or whipping boy like greyhounds after a hare at a coursing meeting.

  Thing is, though, Fingers, his buddy Seanie Fitzpatrick and Paddy Kelly, the Desperate Dan of the developing classes, are just the thin edge of the wedge. In golf clubs and living rooms all over the country, other potential scapegoats probably watched the footage, raised their glasses and said a quiet hurrah. Someone else is getting it in the neck and they’re escaping. You’d hurrah too if it was you.

  It’s easy to blame all our woes and ills on a dastardly trio like Fingers, Fitzie and Kelly. They’re the ones we saw flaunting things when times were good and even when times were bad (see Kelly knocking back at the champers in Glenties a few weeks ago). They were always going to be first up on the gullotine when the good times came to an end. Things like Fingleton’s pension and Kelly’s BMW have become Irish versions of Nazi gold, things we believe they plundered from us and we want back.

  But, let’s be honest here, there’s a hell of a lot more characters who need to be brought to account as well as those three stooges. I’m not saying that the three lads are innocent victims – far from it – but they’re not the only ones. The more we concentrate on a couple of eejits who lived life high on the hog and allowed the publicity and accolades go to their heads, the more we’re avoiding the bigger issues. Look at who has replaced the likes of Fingleton and Fitzpatrick in the banks and look at their track records. We seem to be replacing like with would-like-to-be-like. There’s no sign of the radical overhaul of the banking sector which you’d think events of the last two years would call for. Instead, our Fianna Fail and Green Party government keep pumping cash into a dead bank and are happy for the public and media to take out their ire on Seanie and Fingers. It seems to be the Irish way: when things go bad, identify a scapegoat and let rip.

• The changing face of Main Street Ireland

  July 19, 2010 @ 4:11 pm | by Jim Carroll

  Last week’s news that Dublin’s Road Records would be closing for good caused a predictable wave of sadness and regret. Another record store bites the dust. Another essential component of the Dublin music community disappears. Another small independently-owned and operated store goes out of business.

  That last point is one which doesn’t just apply to record stores. As Niamh noted, “it really feels like a part of Dublin has died along with the closure of Road”. The same feeling applies to streets up and down the land. Small shop owners are putting up the shutters and throwing away the keys. Social and economic changes mean they just can’t compete with the bigger stores. The streetscape is changing and we don’t seem to be able to do anything about it.

  And it’s not just happening in cities. Driving around the west and northwest at the weekend, I lost count of the number of villages where the only shop now is the local petrol station. Main streets which once had a few thriving wee shops are now empty, with all commercial business kept to the outskirts of the town. It’s probably not as pronounced in the cities because the trade continues despite the change of owner – foreign brands or chains simply move into spaces which were once occupied by indie businesses – but the overall trend remains the same as the small, local store gives way to the bigger operator where economies of scale and profit margins are all that matters. Staying in business is hard work – see Alexia’s post about her mother’s bookshop, for instance – but some continue to persevere in the face of diversity because of customer loyalty.

  “Customer loyalty”, though, is easier said than done. When a shop like Road closes, we wring our hands and bemoan the loss. Of course, we’ll say, there are reasons why we didn’t shop there any longer ourselves, but we’re still sad to see ‘em go. We wanted them to remain because they provided an intangiable feel-good factor. But the feel-good factor about having an independent bookstore or cafe or grocery on your Main Street will never be enough to keep those businesses open. If we’re really serious about local, independent shops, the ones which are different from the pack, we need to spend money in them. And at a time when value-for-money is the new national mantra, that may not be as easy to do as we might hope.

• The €34 million plus music festival

  July 9, 2010 @ 8:59 am | by Jim Carroll

  Here’s something to occupy your time on the way to Punchestown today: how much is Oxegen worth to the Irish economy?

  While there has been a lot of chatter and analysis this summer about the attraction of foreign festivals and a go-slow in ticket purchasing here, Oxegen is still the big kahoona when it comes to outdoor music bashes in Ireland. Even with a couple of no-shows like Drake and John Mayer, it’s easily one of the heavyweight bills of the European season.

  Let’s start our back-of-an-envelope calculations with the ticket revenue. Oxegen has a 85,000 capacity, but there is no breakdown given on those who purchase weekend tickets against those who go for daily tickets.

  There has been a huge promotional push in the last few weeks, which usually indicates a shortfall in sales. Therefore, let’s go with a guesstimate of 60,000 weekend sales and 15,000 daily sales. That’s a ticket take of in or around €15 million, based on an average weekend ticket price of €222 (different prices for three or four day tickets, with or without camping).

  Our 75,000 Oxegen goers then need cash to pay for travel, food, drink and other essentials. These amounts will vary depending on circumstances, but an average of €250 a head would probably wash which means another €19 million in the pot.

  All in all, that’s €34 million or thereabouts from those who attend the festival. Then, there’s the knock-on income and expenditure over the weekend, like wages (everyone from Dublin Bus drivers to people selling t-shirts on the site) and accommodation for the non-campers. Maybe it’s time to think about Oxegen’s economic heft as much as its rite-of-passage role in Irish life.

• Aftershock: the blame report to beat all blame reports

  May 11, 2010 @ 10:02 am | by Jim Carroll

  You’re really going to feel good about life after RTE’s Aftershock week. Since Sunday night, the station has been running a series of shows looking at the state we’re in as a nation, examining how we got here and exploring some notions about how we’re going to get out of the current mess.

  We’ve already looked at the 650 ghost estates around the country, the amount of Irish-owned real estate in London and heard about possible solutions from four experts. There has also been a Frontline special, but that featured a politican who got us in the current malaise so, assuming that Pat Kenny didn’t tar and feather him, I’ll leave that one out. Frontline has sadly turned out to be Liveline on the box so I’ll assume there was just much anger and fuming and nothing more.

  No matter how much some people keep insisting that it’s time to move on and crack on with the future, the flashes of anger, which a series like Aftershock will naturally provoke even more, are going to continue for some time to come. People are still trying to work out how we went from the most wanted nation in Europe to one of the least loved in the world in such a short space of time. They want answers, they want scapegoats, they want to vent their fury. No, we’re not the Greeks so we’re not going to take to the streets and throw concrete blocks through the windows of posh restaurants and banks. We prefer to do typically Irish, daft and pointless things like give Dail Eireann a dirty look or talk to Joe. We’re a harmless nation, really. We always have been. Even our revolutions down through history have been half-hearted. But we do anger very well.

  I really wish, though, that RTE had started the Aftershock series by repeating a show which I’m constantly reminded about when talk turns to Ireland’s economic collapse. When people complain that the media and particuarly RTE never covered the impending bust, I think of Richard Curran’s fantastic Future Shock: Property Crash from April 2007. The show looked at what would happen if Ireland suffered a property crash and the impact of this on home-owners, the construction sector and the national economy. The show’s findings were dismissed, criticised and derided, yet Curran’s “irresponsible” and “wild” predictions all came to pass. We were warned, but many of us just didn’t heed those warnings.

  The Aftershock shows to date have been good rather than remarkable. The Ronan Kelly-narrated feature on unoccupied or unfinished housing estates around the country had the look and feel of a fine radio documentary transfered to TV, though we learned nothing really new from the show. Yes, we overbuilt during the good times because we had 200,000 builders to keep in breakfast rolls and hi-vis jackets and yes, many of those builders didn’t finish those estates to resemble the lovely drawings in the sales brochures. Nothing new there.

  But there was little said about the failure of county councils and their planning departments to do what they’re supposed to do in these situations. Was a little village in Co Leitrim which had 32 houses a decade ago really going to be able to support and sustain 320 dwellings a decade later? Instead of spending time on fancy camera angles and special sound effects, the programme-makers might have been better employed hitting County Hall and asking some tough questions there.

  Last night’s Where To Now? show had Dan O’Brien, Matt Cooper, Richard Curran and Justine McCarthy having a look at what they see as the root causes of the current mess and offering some solutions. While I can imagine the guffaw of chuckles from the Law Library which greeted McCarthy’s plan for an abridged Constitution, Curran was one of the first commentators I’ve seen point out the very practical pitfalls of a smart economy and the need for a broader jobs policy.

  There were some interesting notions in O’Brien’s call for a new political system where government ministers are appointed by ability rather than surplus quotas and geographical concerns, but I can see Cooper’s call for a form of drop-the-negative-equity-debt leading to a new civil war. On one side, you’ll have those who can’t handle the big mortgage they – grown, mature adults, lest we forget, who weren’t forced to take on that big mortgage – saddled themselves with. On the other side, you’ll have those who looked at the get-on-housing-ladder mania as a deluded charade and stayed well clear of it. I’m sure, though, that well known drop-the-debt advocate Bono may be interested in writing a song or lending a hand for Cooper’s campaign. Let’s hear it for Self Aid II: The Sequel.

  (All the above shows are currently available on the RTE Player)

• Aftershow parties – where the real business gets done

  April 30, 2010 @ 10:07 am | by Jim Carroll

  It’s not just bankers and politicians who are ingenious when it comes to topping-up pension plans. This weekend, Black Eyed Peas (“the most corporate band in America,” according to the Wall Street Journal) play two shows at Dublin’s O2.

  When those shows end, the band – well, “at least two members of Black Eyed Peas”, according to the press release – will head to Tripod for the official aftershow party, where more cash will be bagged. The band could then do an R Kelly and invite clubbers to bring the party back to the hotel lobby. Such aftershow parties have become a regular add-on, especially for visiting r’n’b and hip-hop acts.

  They charge handsomely for their presence. According to two different Dublin-based promoters, the Black Eyed Peas were looking for €50,000 for their aftershow parties at the outset. And main Pea Will.I.Am is also scheduled to turn up at the Academy on Sunday night to guest with Felix Da Housecat.

  You can’t blame the acts. To paraphrase Big Poppa, their reign on the top is usually short like leprechauns, so they should make hay while they can.

  Hip-hop’s entrepreneurial spirit in this regard has long been saluted, or at least tolerated, via 50 Cent and P Diddy’s exploits.

  Yet there is something unseemly about watching Chris Brown’s people pimp pre-show meet-and-greet opportunities with the star for $200 a go. That, however, pales in comparison to hard rockers Kiss, who are flogging the VIP experience at the O2 next week for €1,000 a skull.

  Once upon a time, it used to be about the music, right? One more time from Biggie: “mo’ money, mo’ problems”.

• Kickstarting a festival or an album

  April 27, 2010 @ 2:23 pm | by Jim Carroll

  One of the best panels I stumbled upon at SXSWi in Austin last month was Funding Your Projects from the Crowd, which looked at how crowdfunding provided a different kind of financial link between creators and audience.

  One of the most illuminating perspectives came from Perry Chen, the co-founder of Kickstarter, a site which allows people to find funds for creative ideas and endeavours by tapping into the wallets and goodwill of their friends, fans and the crowd.

  What’s interesting about Kickstarter, aside from the width and depth of projects under their umbrella, is that it’s an all-or-nothing enterprise – you only get the cash which is pledged, if you get all the cash you need for the project. This means less risk for all concerned, allows people to test out ideas without risking everything and motivates your would-be audience to spread the word if they want the project to happen.

  Right now, one of the projects on Kickstarter’s books involves the Dublin-bound Mountain Man and the Mountain Man Fest in Saratoga Springs in upstate New York in July. They’ve already got a ton of bands confirmed for “the raddest festival that ever existed” – including HEALTH, Real Estate, Phantogram, Cults, Summer Camp, Memoryhouse, Julian Lynch and many more – and now they need to raise $65,000 for the event (the full budget breakdown is included in the proposal so people can see where their cash is going).

  In fairness, Mountain Man have a hell of a long way to go ($5,562 pledged as of now) to make this happen. However, when you poke around Kickstarter, you come across some ideas from the music sector which got or are on the way to getting the cash they required to get an album recorded, a record pressed up, a CD released or, even, a reggae dancehall musical off the ground.

  As we know all too well at present, there’s very little joy to be had if you’re just tapping into the usual sources of investment capital or seed money. Kickstarter’s clients, it seems, have found a new way to square the circle and get the show on the road.

• The man with the €27 million pension

  April 20, 2010 @ 9:36 am | by Jim Carroll

  No matter what happens in the future, Irish Nationwide will always be associated with Michael Fingleton and his €27 million pension. The building society have just unleashed their latest accounts and they’re not a pretty picture. Even the fact that there’s a volcano going loco in Iceland can’t disguise this one. Of course, there are very few financial institutions whose books look well at the moment, but Irish Nationwide resembles a turkey which has been plucked clean over the Christmas. There ain’t nothing left. Even the bones have been gnawed.

  When the fingers point, they will point at Fingleton. He’s the one who ran Irish Nationwide for 37 years and oversaw how that small-town society lost the run of itself with delusions of grandeur. He’s the character who’s to the fore in books on the strange rise and inevitable fall of the Irish economy by Shane Ross and Matt Cooper. We’ll be paying for the stupidity of that man in the fedora and other gombeens like him for quite some time to come.

  It didn’t just happen in Ireland. I’m currently reading Andrew Ross Sorkin’s excellent book “Too Big to Fail” on Wall Street’s alleged masters of the universe and the colossal greed which fed every stupid decision of theirs is unavoidable on every single page. But, as is often the way, we seem to have bred a worse class of eejit here. Always happens for some reason.

  However, it’s the scale of Fingleton’s pension fund which continues to astonish me. As in, what is he going to do with all that dosh? Is he going to head to Las Vegas and hit the craps tables for a few days? Does he have one hell of a stamp collection or model railway habit to feed? Is he going to buy a rake of new hats and overcoats? Will he give it all to charity? Is he the only seventysomething gent out there with a €27 million pension fund and a “because I’m worth it” attitude to boot? Answers gratefully appreciated.

• Going forward, moving backwards

  April 6, 2010 @ 2:55 pm | by Jim Carroll

  Perhaps the most striking element of the entire Sean Quinn fandango over the last week was his admission that he lost €3 billion gambling on Anglo Irish Bank shares. The media thought I’d lost one or one-and-a-half billion, Quinn said in his interview with Sean Whelan on RTE News (an interview which was far more noteworthy than Charlie Bird knocking up to a house in Cape Cod and getting nowhere), but I actually lost three billion.

  There you go, he seemed to smirk at us, those media boyos got it wrong. I don’t know about you, but if I lost a three billion punt on a rogue bank, I’d be staying schtum about it. It’s a far cry from those folksy Tuesday night poker games.

  In yesterday’s paper, John McManus nailed what I’m sure many people are thinking. With a track record like this, who the hell would let Quinn in charge of a sale-of-work in the local church hall, let alone a large company?

  Sure, Quinn has transformed the border area and has given employment to many thousands of people, but is this really enough to excuse his headstrong, silly run on Seanie’s blackjack tables? You could argue that it was his own money and he could, if he wished, spend it anyhow and anywhere he wanted to. Problem is, though, we now know, far too late, how Quinn and Anglo Irish Bank operated and what it means for the citizens of this country. Even the whole issue of tax on Contracts for Difference, the mechanism which Quinn used to build his stake in Anglo-Irish, shows the remove between Us and Them.

  Of course, Quinn was not alone. During the good times – remember the good times? – a micro-class of Gordan Gekkos sprung up in this country. Greed was not just good, they implied, greed was your national duty. There’s no need to go the detail the long, never-ending litany of madness which ensued here during those years, except to note that we’ll be paying for this binge-gambling for many, many years to come.

  But as the payback begins and we face into what seems like years of hard labour, you can be sure that Quinn and his peers will be around to pick up the pieces and the cheap deals which will inevitably fall out of the NAMA shakedown. For all the outstanding loans and debts, you can bet that these lads will be the ones chomping at the bit to get a share of the action when the time comes. And for all those oustanding debts and loans, debts and loans which are so large that the mind boggles trying to get all those figures to make sense, they will still have cash or access to cash to leverage those deals. I’m sure if any OTR reader fell behind with a loan, the banks would be around first thing tomorrow to get their pound of flesh, yet there appears to be very little effort made to do likewise with our Gordon Gekkos. And don’t start with the line that “sure, they don’t have it”. Please. Tell me that when all attempts at forensic accounting have come up with nothing.

  Yet, there is no doubt that we do have to move on from all of the above. I’m someone who doesn’t really think there’s much to be gained endlessly reviewing the past and raking over old ground. However, it’s abundantly clear that there’s such an amount of anger out there about how this country was mismanaged since the mid-1990s that moving on is not as simple as it sounds. Mananging the two – the public desire for retribution and the need to kickstart the economy again – is going to take some doing. And “retribution” means a lot more than just calling in little Seanie to have his collar felt in Bray garda station.

• The house of cards comes tumbling down

  August 13, 2009 @ 10:00 am | by Jim Carroll

  It’s probably a safe bet that very few property developers and bankers are regular OTR readers. They have other things to do this weather and I reckon they’re all Celine Dion fans to boot. Yet it’s probably a good assumption that the misadventures and mishaps of these lads in the building and banking sectors is going to impact on the lives of every single Irish reader of OTR in the years to come because we’re about to bail them out of the trouble their greed got themselves into.

  Some of you, like me, have probably spent the last few weeks following this sorry saga and trying to make sense of it all. From the sight of one-time masters of the universe running to the courts to seek protection from their creditors (funny how these anti-regulation champs always end up using regulations to try to save their own skin) to the increasingly unbelievable stuff flying around about how NAMA will operate, it makes for a lurid, quite far-fetched economic bonkbuster. You really couldn’t make up what you’re hearing as this tale of banks’n'builders’n'bandits continues to unfold in courtrooms and on abandoned building sites.

  But this is not some fantasy Truman Show (the Zoe Show?) where we’re just watching on and eating popcorn. As this one goes down, it’s the Irish taxpayer who will be footing the bill. Yes, the same taxpayer who gets a nasty letter for going a month or two behind with his or her mortgage payments is going to pick up the tab down the line for banks who appear quite happy to let developers walk away from their huge multi-million-euro loans.

  I have little time for conspiracy theorists but they might something to poke in the current situation. Look at the amount of economic hand-wringing which occured over the last few days as Liam Carroll’s (no relation) Zoe empire came tumbling down. Many who’ve lived in his apartments in his past may have wondered about how secure those bricks and mortars were in the first place, but they probably never expected this to happen.

  But as Carroll’s legal eagles scurried from the High Court to the Supreme Court trying desperately to prevent one determined bank from getting what it was owed, the other creditors sat back and worried what this would mean for NAMA coming in saving their skins. Liquidating some of Zoe’s property will, say the so-called economic experts who got us into this mess in the first place, lead to a fire-sale and a much lower current market valuation for the property under the hammer. This, in turn, will mean NAMA will get to pay less for toxic loans when the day comes for them to kick the wheels, spit on hands and do the deals.

  And this, say the bankers and economists, is A Bad Thing.

  A bad thing that the Irish tax-payer will end up paying less for damanged goods? A bad thing, say the gallery.

  A bad thing when a judge finds the rescue plan put forward by an “independent” bean-counter to be “fanciful” and “lacking in reality” and refuses to go along with the charade? A bad thing, nod the gallery

  A bad thing when this whole nasty scam created and maintained for the last decade by builders and bankers is finally seen to be the illusion it always was? A bad thing, sigh the gallery.

  While we don’t know what will happen next with Zoe – there is speculation that the other banks will do a whip-round to find the cash to pay off ACC and stop this liquidation in its tracks – we sure as hell ain’t seen nothing yet. There will surely be more of these escapades because this is one saga which is going to run and run and every week will bring another tale of woe as outlandish as the last.

  But we can be sure of another thing too. This weak, cowardly, unimaginative government – Fianna Fail, Greens and a few aul’ independents tacked on for good measure like a safety pin on a pair of suit trousers – we’ve lumbered ourselves with are going to do absolutely nothing to help us out of this one. We’re just the constituency who’re going to end up footing the bill. That’s something which is much clearer than the bottom line on any Irish bank’s balance sheet.

• You know a recession is near when George Lee starts grinning

  June 4, 2008 @ 2:54 pm | by Jim Carroll

  If there is one man who will truly relish all that a recession will throw at us, it is the RTE economics chief bottle-washer. George Lee was in raptures on yesterday’s news bulletins on radio and TV as he went through the Mazars’s report on the current state of the Irish business environment and tied it all in with a sorry day for Irish banks as their share price collapsed as easily as Waterford’s hurlers on Sunday. The news editors had to get someone else to analyse Ryanair’s failure to stockpile oil when it was lower in price for fear that Boy George would explode from it all. Oh yes baby, the economic chickens are coming home and he’s just the man to show them where to go.

  For all that, though, Lee talking tough about the economy is far more agreeable than the gallery of gombeens who usually do the business reports. Their kingdom is that slot before the 8am news on Morning Ireland. Led by chief jargon cheerleader John Murray, a man who is to business reporting what Des Cahill is to clear, sharp and entertaining sports commentary, these reporters follow the same script every morning without fail. There are a few gentle questions lobbed at a company CEO (who has probably been up since 4.20am consulting with his PR advisors for this one minute breakfast of banalities), a check on what happened in Tokyo overnight (er, not much) and “a quick check” on the currency market. The same banalities, the same soft-soaping, the same abuse of the English language every single morning. Of course, this will continue going forward. See? It’s catching.

  What will be interesting to see (the temptation to write “going forward” here is hard to resist but I managed it) is if this mild, insider-dealing way of reporting about business will continue as the recession bites. Will we still have CEOs allowed to waffle on at length using the latest buzzwords about the record losses their companies have accumulated? Or will we get reporters who actually can tackle these issues and ask some tough questions? With more companies and banks going to the wall because of the rather stupid things they did during the boom when no-one was checking what was going on, there’s a need for tougher, more confrontational analysis. Maybe the solution is for RTE to have Boy George on 24/7. Recessionwatch, it has begun.