The people's servant

Director of Consumer Affairs is a tough job, so tough in fact it is difficult to decide whether one should commiserate with, rather than congratulate, the new incumbent. Carmel Foley, who has been the chief executive of the Employment Equality Agency for the past five-and-a-half years, and takes over the position tomorrow, is undaunted.

"When I saw the job advertised, I couldn't not apply. This is a very important time for consumers right across Europe. I know it is going to be hard, with very intense levels of involvement with different sectors. Given that marketing and selling have become very targeted and slick there can be very high-pressure selling techniques directed at consumers and I would want to monitor this closely."

Cheerfully, she describes the 17-page job application she filled out, as well as the experience of going before a Civil Service Commission interview board. "I was nervous. It was a very searching interview" - including having to devise a 15-minute presentation on one's visions for the office. "I have great faith in the objectivity of the Commission's procedures," she says. It was an open competition and the interview board also included representatives of the private sector.

Foley is 39 and has been a familiar face nationally since taking over as chief executive of the Council for the Status of Women and then succeeding Sylvia Meehan in 1993 as chief executive of the Employment Equality Agency. Her story is that of the career civil servant. "I'm one of those executive officer school leavers," she says. "I think I got the notion of public service as well as my work ethic from my father, he was a member of the Garda Siochana and believed making some difference to his community by helping people."

Far less intimidating in person than she at times appears in photographs, Foley is outgoing and friendly, a natural organiser capable of taking over any crisis without seeming bossy. "I've always been out and about and enjoy jobs that bring me into contact with people." Her jobs are demanding, too demanding to inspire envy. "I wouldn't want to give the impression of being a one-dimensional person," she laughs. "I enjoy my work and I've also travelled a lot through it."

She speaks freely about justice and equality without sounding sanctimonious. Fair play is something she has always taken for granted. Equally, she has learnt the value of compromise. "There is no point in ranting and ordering people to do things. It is better to talk."

Always interested in women's affairs she applied for the job with the Council for the Status of Women in 1990. "I suppose I saw the opportunity to gain some wider experience by putting my civil service knowledge to use in the interest of voluntary groups." It alerted her to many of the hardships experienced by women in this country.

"I dealt with violence against women. We campaigned for better funding for women's refuges, as well as for health and social welfare issues involving the family. My concern the whole time was to improve the dialogue between the different groups and the bureaucracy. This dialogue of the deaf seemed to be going on and at that time, different government departments were defensive about being questioned about policies. I'm delighted that things have improved so much since then through the greater accountability and openness we have now. Although, there is still a long way to go towards providing an excellent public service."

Moving to the Employment Equality Agency in 1993, the statutory body for promoting equality and combating discrimination against men and women at work, saw Foley dealing largely with the problems women experience at work. "Sexual harassment has been the single biggest cause of complaint in my time here. There is also of course issues relating to promotion, access to training and maternity discrimination - but harassment is the biggest offender. It is across the country - big companies, small companies; city and country. I'm glad to say many employers are now introducing policies to outlaw harassment and IBEC is very strong in this area."

Why does such harassment persist? "We don't know whether it indicates a backlash to there being more women in higher positions and in non-traditional jobs, or if it means more women are coming forward and are less willing to put up with offensive treatment." Above all, Foley stresses what she discovered was that complaints amounted to "serious humiliating and degrading treatment, not just banter or joking. These women are people who have been bullied - harassment is bullying".

One of four children, she was born in Mayo, and her father's job took the family to Donegal and Cork, until there was a final move on his retirement to Athlone when she was seven. "My father was from a small farm in Glencar in Kerry and we went down there on visits. But my childhood was a town one, we grew up in a housing estate." Life revolved around school. "I went to St Joseph's College, Summerhill, it was run by the Mercy nuns. I was academically bright and a bookworm, the good girl - the class prefect and so on. Unfortunately, I neglected art, music and sports." She says she did make a point of "getting to as many school hops, discos and dances as possible". While at school she also discovered she was good at languages.

During the school holidays she usually had a summer job, in either the local hospital or clothes factory. Her home life was slightly different from that of her friends in that her father was far older than her mother. "He was a widower when they met and he already had a grown-up family. People used to think he was our grandfather. He retired as Garda superintendent when I was seven. It was nice that he was around the house when we were growing up. I remember he used to come up the stairs with orange segments to wake us up in the mornings." Her memories of Athlone itself are not particularly vivid, "but my mother still lives there and I go home a lot".

She sees herself as a mid-lander, "right from the middle of Ireland, certainly a culchie, not a Dub". She speaks quickly and is very personable; quick-witted and confident enough of her ability not to have to assert herself. It is impossible to be in her company for more than a couple of minutes without thinking she reminds you of someone you just can't place. About two minutes later, it becomes obvious: Foley's voice and gestures are similar to those of the Minister for Public Enterprise, Mary O'Rourke - admittedly, also from Athlone. Foley laughs outright at the identification. O'Rourke taught her history for the Leaving Cert. "Even then she was involved in local politics." Surely Foley is a natural politician and has been approached several times to run for various elections? "No, I'd prefer the public servant role to that of political master."

On leaving school she enrolled at University College Galway and began a degree in psychology and English, sociology and philosophy. Six weeks after term began however, "I got the call from the Civil Service, I had done the exams". She accepted the civil service offer. "I was enjoying college, but the independence of being in Dublin and having my own money. Being a part of the grown-up world. . . Like so many others I thought at the time, `I'll go to Dublin for a couple of years and then I'll come back'. Well, it hasn't turned out that way." But she is currently completing the second year of a masters in organisational behaviour which is awarded through Trinity College and the Irish Management Institute.

Joining the civil service in November 1976, Foley entered the Department of Education as an executive officer involved in administrating school transport. "Basically I was explaining to parents why their children could no longer travel on a particular bus. It was all worked out on the distance to the nearest school and so on." Within a year she had moved to the Department of Finance where she worked in Central Data Processing. Having quickly realised "I was not a natural computer buff", she sought a lateral transfer to the Department of Foreign Affairs. Once there, the next step was the consular section where her brief was dealing with Irish citizens in distress abroad - people who had been robbed or imprisoned or indeed, had died, often in horrible circumstances. "I had to deal with the families and I must say, it was a very satisfying job."

Dublin was lively and she was having a good time. During this period, she also attended night classes and secured a certificate in public administration from the IPA. At that time, she had planned to continue her studies for a further three years to degree level.

But by 1979 she was off to Washington. "I had applied for a transfer and then was posted to the Irish Embassy in Washington. Of course I brought the books with me, the IPA tried to persuade me to continue by correspondence, but there were too many distractions. To find myself at age 19 transplanted from my dingy bed-sit on the South Circular Road to an apartment on the 12th floor of a modern block in Washington, overlooking North West Connecticut Avenue, was amazing to say the least. It was a different world."

In Washington, she was an administrative attache, involved in the running of the embassy and overseeing functions such as passport services, employment of local staff as well as the upkeep of the premises. Diplomatically, it was also an exciting period during which the Irish government was making a concerted effort to challenge the traditional Irish-American view of Ireland and so alert Capitol Hill and the White House to the new Ireland.

While there, her father became ill. She came home. Three days after her 21st birthday, he died. "I was with him when he died. During those days in the hospital, he wasn't conscious enough to speak, so we didn't have a chance to say goodbye to him. I regret not having had an adult-to-adult relationship with him. He had lived an interesting life in many parts of the country, having sneaked away from a very small farm to join the force at its inception in the new state." About this time she had entered the competition for the Diplomatic Service. She returned to Dublin in 1981 as a Third Secretary and was now a career diplomat rather than an administrator.

Looking back on her father's death, she says: "I was a `coper' during the funeral and didn't grieve until much later." Tom Foley was a major influence on her. "Both of my parents were very important. My mother, Adelaide, she's from Roscommon, she gave the four of us great love and care growing up - she still does come to think of it. My mother is extremely generous; patient and self-sacrificing, but not in any martyred way. She is supportive of us all and totally undemanding. She is sustained by tremendous religious faith. If ever I reach even half her nobility of spirit, I'll be doing well." Emotionalism was never a feature of the Foley household. "Like many Irish families of our time, we're not at ease speaking openly on the emotional level, but we know we are there for each other in a crisis."

Back in Dublin she worked with the Development Co-operation Division dealing with the Bi-Lateral Aid Programme to Lesotho, the small mountain kingdom surrounded by South Africa. The programme included transfer of all kinds of Irish technical expertise, ranging from a big project involving the training of lab technicians to the introduction of Connemara ponies for a breeding programme intended to improve the native mountain pony.

Two years later she was posted to the Irish Embassy in Luxembourg where she also served as the Deputy Permanent Representative to the Council of Europe in Strasbourg. She stayed there for four years. "Being a small embassy I had a much greater range of responsibilities, particularly when the ambassador might be away. As Luxembourg is obviously an EU member state there was a full range of political, economic, cultural and consular work. I enjoyed Luxembourg - it is quiet, as orderly as would be expected of a wealthy international financial centre." And its location meant she could get into a car "and be able to drive to Germany, France and Belgium. I drove over the Alps to Italy, a country I love."

Aside from her parents she names several important role models: the recently retired chairman of the Labour Court, Evelyn Owens; former president Mary Robinson and the former Secretary of the Department of Foreign Affairs, Noel Dorr. Speaking about her work and the way it has developed and encouraged her love of travel and languages, she refers to the importance friends play in her life. Particularly now.

"I was involved in a long-term relationship since the age of 18 and it ended four years ago. I didn't want the break-up at the time but, pardon the cliche, I've grown through the pain and I've become more compassionate about human frailties - my own and others. I wish Peter [Peter Cassells, general secretary of the Irish Congress of Trade Unions] the best in his life." Having been part of a couple for so long, she refers to "the major adjustments" she has made since becoming single at a time when so many of her friends are married. She has no children. Looking to the future, she says she is in all things an optimist, never a cynic.

It is too early to say much about the new job. "In one way to move on from being an equality watchdog to a consumer watchdog is a logical progression. But I'm conscious that it is a greater challenge" - as well as a more unpopular one. "Given that many entrenched interests are involved I do not propose to wage a vendetta against any particular sector. Producers and consumers are inter-dependent and I want to see these people accepting the need for standards and legislative protection and fair contract terms." As expected banking practices, life assurance churning, gazumping in the property market, food prices and the introduction of the euro are uppermost on her mind.

"This is an enormously interesting and challenging time for consumer rights, given global markets, de-regulation and the increasing power of large conglomerates and multinational corporations. I'm looking forward to building up consumer awareness and assertiveness," she says. Ever practical and direct, Carmel Foley smiles and announces with characteristic straightforwardness: "There's always been this attitude in Ireland of `Ah, sure it will do'. No. it won't, not any longer. For Heaven's sake, don't accept it. Do complain."