Kenny was live on RTE Radio 1 with his daily show. "And now, " he said, "I believe we have the minister for justice on the line." With that, Michael McDowell proceeded to his daily communion with the Irish people. He had been listening to the previous item and wanted to clear something up for Pat's listeners.

Kenny was thrilled with his mini coup, just like Sean O'Rourke before him when, last December, McDowell rang the News at One in a similarly impromptu manner. On Tuesday, however, McDowell's contribution was overshadowed by a large question:

Where does the minister with the busiest portfolio in government get the time to listen to, not to mind ring up, radio programmes? Is he a closet Liveline fan who's too shy to talk to Joe?

The minister's intervention spoke volumes about how he has managed his portfolio since assuming office. After the brutal murder of Donna Cleary, crime was high on the agenda last week. On Sunday, McDowell came out with his usual response. There would be more legislation.

By Monday, he was diverting blame to the judiciary for not implementing mandatory minimum sentences in the manner envisaged by the Oireachtas.

On Kenny's show on Tuesday, criminal lawyer Michael O'Higgins offered a sober analysis of mandatory sentences. He called them " a blunt instrument". He explained why, in cases coming under mandatory 10-year sentences for possession of over 12,800 worth of drugs, judges often used the "exceptional and specific" opt-out clauses to impose shorter sentences. He made perfect sense and disputed the lazy assumption that judges are too lenient.

The minister, all ears to the radio, wasn't having that. If judges weren't to blame for spiralling crime, who was? The gardai?

They would rightly claim to be hamstrung by lack of resources. Which left the minister himself. And if one thing is incontrovertible about Michael McDowell, it is that blame never rests at his door.

He rang the programme and disputed a minor aspect of O'Higgins' analysis. It was pedantic and irrelevant, but gave McDowell the chance to do what he does best . . . selling himself on the basis of his media dexterity. Perception, not reality, is what defines this minister for justice.

Mandatory sentencing, a pet project of his, sums up his triumph of perception over reality. In February last year, he announced he was extending the concept to an offence for possessing a sawn-off shotgun. Last week, we were told possession of a firearm would also attract such a tariff.

Mandatory sentencing has been a disaster in the US, where it was conceived.

Minor criminals filled up the jails, with no corresponding dividend in crime levels.

All research shows that fear of detection rather than length of sentence is the real deterrent, but that would require more resources, rather than the poor substitute of bad law.

Some US states are trying to repeal the system, but politicians fear any rollback might make them vulnerable to accusations of being soft on crime. In the political arena, fighting crime is secondary to being seen to be fighting crime.

On Thursday, McDowell spat across the House at Enda Kenny that the Fine Gael leader was against mandatory sentences when they were first introduced. The message was clear. Kenny must be soft on crime, unlike the minister who is captured on air and in print daily, talking tough.

At McDowell's shoulder, the Taoiseach has been picking up tips. On Sunday, Bertie Ahern appeared to blame judges for lenient sentences. By Tuesday, he said he hadn't, but failed to convince. He did indicate that he wanted life in jail to mean life. That evening, his spokeswoman confirmed that the Taoiseach had no intention of doing anything about it, as if he was only the person who ran the country and real decisions were made by some force from outer space.

If it wasn't so serious, the pair of them would make great material for a satirical sitcom.

McDowell did make one explosive revelation on Tuesday's radio programme.

He admitted that he bore "political responsibility for the delays" in his criminal justice bill, which has been in gestation for nearly two years. The man accepts that he is making a hames of one of the major elements of his brief.

It's a long way from the bluster he engaged in when he gave a rare in-depth interview on Prime Time in November 2004. He claimed he had enacted 23 bills by then. "No minister for justice has ever succeeded in getting so many bills through as I have in the first two-and-a-half years in office, " he thundered. And a few minutes later: "No minister for justice has ever delivered even half what I have". There was no truth in any of it.

His immediate predecessor, John O'Donoghue, had enacted 24 bills in his first two-and-a-half years in office. He was also responsible for initiating half-a-dozen of the bills McDowell claimed as his own. Viewers, however, were left with the impression that McDowell was a human dynamo, reforming a moribund portfolio, rather than a spoofer exposed by cold statistics.

The spoofery, the pre-eminence of perception, can get dangerous in the area of crime-fighting. Last May, he announced in the Dail the commencement of Operation Anvil, a crackdown on gun crime in west Dublin. In doing so, he denied the gardai of any element of surprise. The important thing was not that the operation was under way, but that the Irish people knew their minister was driving it on.

In contrast, two weeks ago, when asked in the Dail if he had political responsibility for the rioting in Dublin, he replied he had "no hand, act or part" in formulating the garda plan that day.

His plans for the garda reserve . . . a progressive measure on the face of it . . . also expose a reckless approach to the gardai.

He wants a headline-grabbing 4,000-member reserve, equal to nearly one-third of the force proper. In Britain, the ratio is 10 to 1.

Many suspect his real motivation is to cover up for poor resources and the failure to recruit the extra 2,000 full members he has long promised.

It is in the area of legislation that the preening emperor is to be found in his birthday suit. His criminal justice bill was first presented in July 2004. Every headline that struck in the intervening period has brought a new amendment and more delay. Donna Cleary's murder prompted the latest. This legislation gets pushed out farther on the long finger each time. It has yet to go through committee stage in the Oireachtas. The minister simply hasn't got time for legislating because he's too busy telling the Irish people all he's going to do when he gets off air.

Except the cameras keep rolling. In one area, McDowell is first-class. No politician has ever gained such purchase on the media. He gives great copy. He is on the Nine O'Clock News more often than Anne Doyle. He sells himself with greater panache than Silvio Berlusconi. He enjoys a unique friendship with high-profile journalist Sam Smyth, on whose radio show he frequently finds time to appear.

But the perception of an ever-available minister is wide of the mark. He does next to no in-depth newspaper interviews that allow for context and reflection; he revels in the soundbite and in restricted debate where he can call on his advocacy skills. On air, he is adept at deflecting attention from his own responsibility, often employing the tactic of turning questions on his interviewer. In this, he excels at masking his own failings.

During the Frank Connolly affair last December, McDowell popped up on the News at One to admit he had leaked elements of a garda file to Smyth. But then this media darling went to ground, despite claiming that he did what he did to save Ireland and should be regarded as a fearless democrat. Spoofing is one thing, but that episode exposed the dangers of a selfregarding politician being given free rein in a democracy. He may well have broken the law there, but it's unlikely he will have to answer for it, and that derogation of democracy will probably be his legacy.

For now, though, he ploughs on, a patchy record behind him, and no indication that he is prepared to do the job for which he was elected. It's high time he got the finger out.