There is something particularly obnoxious about the latest revelation of gaucheness in high places. Political parties are accustomed to seek contributions from various sources, and if this is done openly there can be no legitimate objection. The practice has been regularised by the Electoral Act passed 18 months ago, under which, in return for substantial State funding, the parties and individual politicians are required to declare donations in money or kind worth more than £3,000.
But the issue raised by the "rare opportunity" offered by the Dublin South branch of the Labour Party to meet and question the Minister for Finance in advance of the publication of the Finance Bill, in return for hard cash, comes into a different category. It is ironic that the "rareness" of the occasion is something that a Labour Party should regard as saleable; it is considerably worse that any party in a democracy should be seen as using its presence in government so blatantly as a means of financing itself.
Politicians and the public may have different views on some aspects of the matter. Fianna Fail and the Progressive Democrats have rightly directed their fire at the event as such, but possibly because they might do the same if in office - have made less of the fact that the first batches of invitations went out on what might be mistaken for Government notepaper. The two Ministers involved, Mr Quinn and Ms Fitzgerald, have admitted that this was wrong and have apologised: the remaining invitations will clearly, come from the Labour Party. But both the "rare opportunity" and the way in which it was initially presented, are matters of great concern. In spite of Mr Quinn's comprehensive apology for the apparent deception, it is disturbing to think that such a gross piece of presumption was possible in the first place.
As for the event itself, the Taoiseach's explanation - that there is "nothing new, or peculiar, or odd" about briefing lunches as a means of raising funds only provides exculpation in cases where there is no suggestion of privilege being conferred. If farmers are prepared to pay to listen to the Minister for Agriculture talking about disease eradication plans, or industrialists are willing to buy plates to hear the Ministers for Enterprise and Employment on EU policy, well and good. But when 700 likely prospects are targeted on the eve of the publication of the Finance Bill, and are promised an opportunity to meet the responsible Minister "in a semi informal environment", it is not so easily dismissed. The subliminal message is inevitably the misleading one of coterie and value for money.
This is a case where the right thing must not only be done, but also seen to be done. No one will believe that the Minister intends to make startling or unauthorised revelations of the Government's inner thinking to those who take up the offer. But the briefing must be sufficiently intense to justify a contribution to Labour Party funds. Mr Molloy of the Progressive Democrats asks whether this is "morally and ethically acceptable", and while there may be a weary acceptance among the public that it is the kind of thing that politicians get up to these days, and there is not much that can be done about it, the question is a valid one.
The present Coalition came to power with an implied undertaking to improve standards in public life. If this means anything, it suggests that Ministers are on shaky ground if they attempt to defend their actions solely by precedent, arguing that they are doing what is always done. They must also establish the ethical benchmark that the public has a right to expect.