WE ARE a people whose demands are blunt and whose debates are circular.
Or so it seems when we come face to face with one of those groups which see themselves not only as the nation's best but as the keepers of its conscience.
Such groups are easily recognised: theirs are the loudest voices telling us to fall in behind them, to face the enemy of their choice.
On the political front, there are Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness who call on the fuddled masses to tog out with the pan-nationalists as they take on the British and the unionists.
On the commercial front, the IFA president John Donnelly insists that, after a compulsory feed of beef, fellow patriots should fall in behind the association to take on the Russians - and Ivan Yates.
The Evening Echo caught the half-cocked spirit of Mr Donnelly's campaign. Its front page, decked out with hammer and sickle and a shot of Mr Yates in fur hat, sounded more like the Sun than the Skibbereen Eagle.
"Ivan the Terrible," it bellowed. "Thanks Comrade! You've sold us down the Volga." At least the Eagle knew who ran the show: its eye, all those years ago, was on the Czar. You'd think the Echo would know better.
Never mind: if political debate in the 1990s is adversarial and circular, commentary is made to match, at the level of the lowest common denominator.
It's the Gotcha school of journalism: the spotlight swings indiscriminately from trivia to tragedy and back; appearance is everything and the public is credited with the attention span of a goldfish.
Here are two recent examples of what I have in mind.
When Michael Noonan finally saw sense and agreed to an inquiry into hepatitis C but, in a comment on lawyers and the adversarial system, seemed insensitive to the victims, it was as if he were the author of a problem which had begun before he entered the Dail.
And when Ivan Yates foolishly gave the impression that he was present when the latest beef deal with Russia was signed - and allowed that impression to persist - it was as if that, too, was the heart of the matter.
Both ministers made mistakes but the mistakes they made - and the electoral consequences, if any are of less significance than the issues of huge public importance they have in hand.
For journalists it's easier, of course, to parrot the ranting of an lFA leader, and the populist echoes of Fianna Fail spokesmen, than to examine the cause and consequences of BSE and its link to CJD.
EASIER to complain about Mr Yates's absence from the signing than to say what should or could have been done when the Russians decided they weren't going to import beef from Cork, Tipperary and Monaghan.
Mr Donnelly's style is nothing if not direct. While others saw BSE in scientific and medical terms, to the IFA leader it was essentially a commercial problem. A predicament for which Britain, the European Union and the Fine Gael-led Coalition were responsible.
He managed to convey the impression that if only Mr Yates had gone to Moscow better still if Mr Yates and John Bruton had gone - they could have persuaded, even forced, the Russians to change their minds.
But how? With what assurances might this have been achieved? Mr Donnelly answers such questions by raising his voice and repeating his message like a salesman on a radio ad trying to sell quare stuff to farmers.
The IFA message is simple: it's a political problem. Ireland depends on farmers and farmers depend on beef.
It's the minister's job, the Taoiseach's job, the Government's job to go out and see that beef is sold.
And if, for good or bad reasons, the buyers don't want to buy - it's a political problem.
Mr Adams and Mr Donnelly demand to be heard and heeded, not for the same reasons of course, but with the same conviction that their claims are undeniable.
The farmers have always had a special position in Irish society - more durable, some bishops may ruefully reflect, than that of the Catholic Church.
And since we joined the Common Market, the Minister for Agriculture has been their minister in a way that applies to no other segment of the population: he's expected to act as their courier, bearing their demands to Brussels and returning with their loot.
No other pressure group has leaned more heavily on politicians or exerted so much influence, even as its membership declined.
(The number of farms has dropped from 200,625 to 104,000 in the past 30 years: the number of those employed on the land has fallen from 40 to 15 per cent of the workforce.)
Once again in this week's debates their voices were the most audible and persistent. And little was heard of consumers' rights - or of the criminal activities of some farmers - until a few thoughtful deputies and senators took a hand.
Pat Upton and Willie Penrose of Labour, Kathleen Lynch of Democratic Left and John Dardis of the Progressive Democrats helped to lower the temperature stoked by Brian Cowen and Bertie Ahern.
As Dr Upton said in a statement on Thursday: "It's essential that the debate is conducted in the unemotive language of science, instead of political and public relations obfuscation and spin-doctoring."
He also spoke of the need for much greater investment in organic beef production and suggested that the Irish industry should move away from the intensive, additive/chemical based agriculture of the last 10 years.
And in the calmer atmosphere of the last few days, even the IFA appeared willing to contemplate change, advertising its commitment to consumers on total quality assurance in the daily papers.
DOES this mean that the association is prepared to adopt the proposal made by
Caroline Gill of the Consumers' Association and supported by Dr Upton and Ms Lynch for an independent food safety agency?
Well, at least it's prepared to have a quality assurance audit committee - independent of the Department of Agriculture and independent of farmers.
As for those who engage in criminal activities, such as dealing in angel dust or prohibited bonemeal, not to mention the deliberate introduction of BSE, I'm told a rule change allowing for their expulsion is to be proposed at next month's national council meeting.
But farmers have always been loath to change, even when change seems inevitable.
Many changes introduced by Ray MacSharry and others were first proposed by a socialist visionary called Sicco Mansholt.
Thirty years ago, Mansholt suggested that farming should be treated as an industry, almost like any other, with plans similar to those for industrial development in the manufacturing sector.
For instance, when it was time for them to retire, there ought to be a scheme which allowed them to do so in an orderly fashion.
These were revolutionary ideas and they scared the hell out of people here. Most believed, not only that nothing should be done to interfere with life as it was but that the mere mention of change was tantamount to sabotage.
The greatest saboteurs in the years since then have been in the industry itself.