THE question has to be asked. Was James Joyce a great writer, or is he a global marketing opportunity? Was he a damn fine scribbler, or a premium product with a high penetration in the niche ABC 1 market?
I am afraid to report that as we hurtle towards the end of the millennium, Ireland is suffering a new invasion, the country is being run by an alien tribe of marketing men in suits.
The marketing man is the new high king. Just as our old friend James Joyce is no longer a writer, Ireland is no longer a country, a nation or an island. The Land of Saints and Scholars has been turned into a product, to be peddled across the world like so many tubs of low-fat margarine or tins of Spaghetti Hoops.
Everything a Product
Everything in the eye of the men in suits turns into a product, even God himself up above in the Heavens, sales may be down up in Paradise, but with increased brand awareness and a £100 million relaunch, we can improve the Almighty One's customer loyalty.
Mr Con McCarthy, head of the Ryan Hotel Group, this summer regaled us with a hefty dollop of product-speak when he made a speech about Irish tourism to his annual general meeting. He suggested Ireland would be "better served by chasing the quality tourism product rather than chasing volume.
Referring to this sceptred isle upon which we live, he added: "We have a very good product, based on our culture, heritage, warmth and friendliness."
Culture and Heritage - don't you just love them? These are the two great phenomena that have been discovered by the marketing fellows and some of our more witless politicians in recent years. There are millions to be made by bottling our Culture and Heritage and flogging it to the Europeans, because the poor dears do not seem to have any left for themselves.
Together with those hugely lucrative resources, Warmth and Friendliness Culture and Heritage are now touted as our Unique Selling Points. They are the fizz in the Coca Cola, or the pickle in the Big Mac of Ireland PLC.
There seems to be some confusion among tourism chiefs about what kind of product we should be flogging. Should Ireland be a cheap and cheerful discount-priced "10 per cent off for you this week, Madam" yellow-pack purchase? Or should Ireland be looking for the high yield, perfume-scented up-market visitor with the Gucci handbag and a Chihuahua toy dog? Should we be telling back packers to go away, try Scotland and come back when they have grown up, brushed their hair and have more money?
The Shamrock Image
I seem to remember that last autumn, we had an outbreak of this marketing tomfoolery when a group of tourism honchos got together to discuss Ireland's brand image. Yes, these people really do think the country is like a bottle of ketchup.
Among topics for discussion was the shamrock, the symbol of Bord Failte. It was suggested that the shamrock had not been a roaring success on the Continent. Horror of all horrors, the crazy continentals did not link the shamrock with Ireland, idyllic land of saints and scholars, but with a leading brand of German sausages.
Dear, oh dear. After spending millions promoting Ireland with the three-leafed green plant, we find that we are confused with lumps of German offal.
Bord Failte was also somewhat distressed to find, in one of its endless marketing surveys, that Ireland was not always regarded as "a fun destination." One would have thought that this was a cause for celebration, but the tourism bosses seemed to believe we should market Ireland as a centre for fun, fun, fun.
Do we really want millions of gentlemen wearing Union Jack underpants traipsing over the Burren in search of fun, fun, fun? One can imagine them burping, chanting bawdy anthems and ripping up rare orchids as they go.
It has become an article of faith in the past couple of decades that mass tourism must be a jolly good thing, the more tourists the better, thank you very much.
We may not necessarily like hordes of tourists when we go abroad, but they are fine specimens when they step ashore here. Come on down to Ireland, the fun place to be! We love your big coaches that clog up our roads, we love all those souvenir shops selling gift-wrapped lumps of turf and we love your lurid nylon rainwear! Where would we be without you?
Discourage Tourists? Rather than doing the sensible thing and discouraging the blighters from coming here, we spend a fortune urging them on. I gather from one report that as part of the new tourism drive, the marketing men are being paid massive sums to study the "psychographics of green" and other such codswallop.
The Government does not seem to realise that once the tourists start to flow into Dublin and its new fancy cafes selling coffee with bits of old chocolate sprinkled on the top, it is almost impossible to keep them away.
Take the poor Parisians, for example. My heart goes out to the residents of that beautiful city. For decades they have tried to discourage tourists by being systematically rude to them; wherever he goes, the visitor is greeted with one hundred thousands frowns.
Whether it is in the restaurant or on the street, the Parisians go out of their way to ensure that your visit is an unpleasant one. Despite all their gallant efforts to rid the city of its tourism menace, however, the blasted visitors just keep on coming.