An Irishman's Diary

One of the unforeseen consequences of the smoking ban has been a revival in the old Irish custom of standing around in the street. This used to be a very common sight in Ireland, at least until the mid-1980s.

No town would be complete without a few people, individually or in groups, engaged either in free-style standing, or leaning semi-erect against walls or doorways or lampposts, while watching the world go by.

Some would be certified corner boys, there just to plot mischief or sneer at decent people. A sub-species, usually in or near a pub entrance, would be lads who didn't have the price of a drink and were waiting in the hope of snaring acquaintances who did. Shop-keepers might also keep vigil outside their doorways during quiet periods, a habit that may have given rise to the phrase "minding your own business".

But most of those standing around would be motivated by nothing worse than boredom, or a philosophical outlook, or just a healthy curiosity about the activities of their fellow townspeople. They were not standers, merely. They were bystanders.

Then, somehow, the custom died out. People became too busy, or if they weren't busy, they had to pretend to be. Once the economy picked up, there was a stigma attached to anyone who did not appear to be at least mildly stressed. Soon there was nobody standing around in the street anymore. It was probably around the same time that the gardai were forced to establish Neighbourhood Watch.

Since the smoking ban, however, there has been a mass revival in the old custom. Once again the streets of our towns and cities are filled with bystanders, albeit ones mainly motivated by the need for a cigarette. That does diminish the integrity of their standing around somewhat. Yet it also means that this new generation is much more committed about the role than previous ones.

It's one thing to stand around in July, when the streets are drenched in sunshine and you can pretend to be in Barcelona as you chat with smoking senoritas in flimsy dresses. It's an altogether different prospect in December. But even now, the cigarette-wielding sentries are still there, bravely refusing to desert their posts in the face of rain and sleet and gale-force winds, not to mention passive exposure to gridlocked traffic fumes.

It is not clear yet whether their presence is having an effect on crime levels. Certainly, in those shrinking parts of the country not already monitored by closed-circuit television, on-street smokers would seem to have a role in supplementing Garda intelligence. But like the yogic flyers who believe they can influence society for the better by meditating in large numbers, smokers could play an even more profound role.

At a time when Irish life is ever more frenetic, the existence of a hard-core group of people who engage in regular periods of public reflection can only benefit the community at large. Not all smokers will have experienced spiritual growth since their exile from indoor society. But thousands of people cannot spend several hours a week in mostly silent reflection - especially during foul weather - without achieving increased wisdom.

We have all heard of the Doheny and Nesbitt School of Economics: the famous third-level institution where the social, politician and financial problems of Ireland are solved nightly by some of the greatest minds to be found in any pub in Dublin 2.

The establishment made the headlines for another reason during the week when it lost a court case arising from its illegal attempts to shelter smokers from the rain, using a canopy. The case highlights the harshness of the ban, no doubt. But it's an ill-wind and all that. At any rate, a reduced and legally-compliant canopy has been put in place, and is now housing the small but increasingly influential Doheny and Nesbitt School of Philosophy. Enrolments are currently being accepted for the winter season.

I KNOW some people argue that governments are too keen to restrict people's personal freedoms, and I agree. I look forward to a new era of libertarianism and tolerance sometime soon. But while we're waiting, I wonder would the Government consider introducing draconian legislation to outlaw over-the-top Christmas lighting on houses and front lawns?

What I have in mind is a simple Bill that would make possession of a plastic illuminated Santa for outdoor use an offence punishable by a fine or prison sentence, or both. Plastic reindeer, plastic snowmen, and plastic angels would also be on the banned list. Possession with intent to supply would of course be a more serious crime, allowing so-called "Christmas shops" to be targeted by the authorities.

Nobody wants to be a killjoy, but there are public health issues here (probably). If a fluorescent flashing Rudolf cheers you up, that's great. Unfortunately, it may have the opposite effect on your neighbour who, while he has to be careful never to acquire the habit of deploying tasteless plastic figurines himself, becomes a victim of passive exposure to your garish light emissions. We non-illuminators have our rights too, you know.