HE got hammered for saying it – and rightly so – but you could see where Brian Lenihan was coming from when he joked about being landed into the Department of Finance in the current environment.

For the best part of the last decade, despite the marked reluctance of Bertie Ahern, Lenihan has been the coming thing in Fianna Fáil, destined for greatness. His political apprenticeship had begun long, long before that at his father's knee. Pedigree and brains to burn – a glittering career seemed almost pre-ordained for the Belvedere head boy and Trinity scholar.

And last June, it seemed like he had finally arrived, with the promise of more to come. After all, the Department of Finance has traditionally been a stepping stone for greater things for Fianna Fáil politicians – Jack Lynch, Charlie Haughey, Albert Reynolds, Bertie Ahern and Brian Cowen all stopped off there on route to the top job in Government Buildings.

But none of those men had to deal with the equivalent of a €5bn hole in the accounts within weeks of taking over as minister for finance.

Since getting the job, Lenihan must have felt like King Canute trying to hold back the tide. To observers, he has resembled a rabbit caught in the headlights. And it didn't take long for the whispers to start: 'Too inexperienced', 'not as clever as he thinks he is', 'accident-prone', 'lacking a common touch', muttered his critics. Rumours abounded too about tensions between Lenihan and the Taoiseach, with suggestions that the finance minister resented Cowen's micromanagement of the public finances.

Whether or not there is any truth to these rumours, Lenihan wouldn't be human, not to mention a politician, if he hadn't wondered over the summer what impact the budgetary crisis would have on his career. After all that preparation, all that planning, was it all going to go horribly wrong by being in the right department at the wrong time?

But, if Lenihan's body language last week was anything to go by, any such fears have been firmly put to one side. The edginess and uncertainty, so obvious last July, when the government announced its €440m in savings, was gone. There was an assurance and a sense of purpose when he spoke to political journalists in the hours after the announcement.

The decision to bring forward the budget was a clever political move by Lenihan – and by all accounts, it was his idea. Fiscally and economically, it will make little difference, bar perhaps reassuring investors; focusing the minds of civil servants and the trade unions, and heading off pre-budget lobbying. But in perception terms, it is crucial, and perception is everything in politics. The worry within the coalition was that a perception of government inaction was taking root among the electorate, and in one quick, decisive move, that has been addressed.

Of course, moving forward the budget date is the easy bit. The real challenge comes on 14 October with having to seriously cut back on public spending and/or raise tax revenues. But the signals that Lenihan is giving off suggest that he is up for the challenge and willing to cop the flak that will inevitably come his way.

The finance minister took a number of soundings from financial and political figures over the summer, and apparently one of the people he spoke to was former finance minister Ray MacSharry. That augurs well. If Lenihan adopts the same no-nonsense approach as 'Mac the Knife' did during his tenure in the department in the late 1980s, he will be doing the state quite some service.

Despite less than wholehearted enthusiasm from senior civil servants and, at times, ferocious criticism, MacSharry was unwavering in his determination to restore some order to out-of-control public finances. And he succeeded.

Such resolve is exactly what is required now. Lenihan will inevitably have to cut up rough at times with civil servants and with 'wets' in the cabinet who will not have the stomach for what lies ahead.

He will also have to face down powerful vested interest groups, not least the construction sector. Chatting privately to politicians, it is surprising to hear the number voicing the opinion that "something will have to be done" on the housing front, suggesting that serious lobbying is going on behind the scenes. Of course, it was 'doing something' for the construction sector – with tax incentive schemes – that was a major factor in the property bubble in the first place. The unspoken vibe coming from Lenihan is that he is minded to letting the housing market find its own level. Again that is encouraging.

Lenihan's plan, like that of MacSharry 20 years ago, should be a simple one. No gimmicks, no tricks, just tough, tough spending controls.

Going back to the point made in the opening paragraph, Lenihan has indeed been dealt a tough hand. Unlike the likes of Lynch, Haughey, Reynolds, Ahern and Cowen, he can't go on to become taoiseach if he simply holds his own in finance.

The crisis in the public finances means that luxury has been denied him. Lenihan can only be successful if he takes the tough options that are likely to make him unpopular in the short term.

And even if he does the right thing, there is no guarantee he will reap the political rewards. But it is the only option both for him personally and the country.

The real positive to take from last week is that the finance minister now seems to know what is required. It's only the start, but it's a good start.

scoleman@tribune.ie