The leadership thing won't go away. At this time of genuine crisis, we are cast adrift, with nobody at the tiller. If it was just a problem with government, that could be dealt with. But it's right across public life.
We saw what leadership can be with the Irish rugby team. The manager, Declan Kidney, used his personality and character to instil in his players attributes such as determination, camaraderie, hard work and, above all, honesty.
Leadership in the trade union movement has been far from honest. The day of action that was planned for tomorrow was an exercise in dishonesty. Billed as a protest of failure to honour the last wage agreement and broader economic strategy, it was largely about the pension levy.
Most union heads played down this reality, but some couldn't help themselves. The Teachers' Union of Ireland was in no doubt what it was about. The union's Paddy Healy decried the postponement of the protest, saying he felt "extreme frustration on the part of public sector workers at the lack of action on the part of ICTU and at ICTUs tacit acceptance of the pensions levy and cutbacks."
The sad thing is that union leaders probably still hold the high moral ground, having been propelled there not by their own actions, but by default, for their self-interested posturing fades in comparison to what passes for leadership in the realms of business and government.
AIB is one of our business leaders. Last week, we were given further notice that it is a hopelessly recidivist enterprise. Ten years after internal auditor Anthony Spollen revealed the deception endemic in the bank, one of his successors showed up to report that things haven't changed that much. Rampant overcharging, dodgy share deals, managers put under huge pressure to squeeze customers dry; we've seen it all before in AIB. According to the picture painted for an Oireachtas committee by former employee Eugene McErlean, the place is as culturally corrupt as it ever was.
Last September, the chairman and chief executive of AIB were among the most prominent petitioners to Brian Lenihan to use the state's finances to prop up banks. The minister complied. Since then, a largely supine approach to the banks has been the order of the day. For instance, nobody in government has had the bottle to spell out exactly what the rest of the country thinks of Michael Fingleton and all that he represents. The embers of crony capitalism still flicker enough to prevent the ignition of proper leadership in government.
Then we have a player who had the cut of a modern breed of businessman, a new leader. Gerry McCaughey was a "green entrepreneur" who made about €30m when his timber-frame construction firm was sold in 2005. McCaughey wanted to be a politician, but latterly had decided to offer himself as a representative on public bodies such as the Dublin Docklands Development Authority.
Last week, we got a glimpse of what McCaughey really thinks about the running of public affairs. It was revealed that when he got his windfall, he legally availed of a loophole that allowed him to avoid paying any tax on it by arranging for his wife to live in Italy for six months or so.
The question arises: What level of capital gains tax would this prospective politician consider fair if he went to such trouble to avoid a modest 20% rate?
On the eve of last October's budget, McCaughey gave us the benefit of his views on how the country should be run. He told RTÉ's Questisons and Answers that he was worried about any raising of taxes. He also preached on how to run our affairs.
"We squandered the last 10 years of economic boom. We let the public sector suck the wealth out of the private sector," he said. It might be suggested that elements in the private sector like McCaughey suck the wealth out of the public sector by moving hell, high water and his wife to avoid paying modest tax on a packet of €30m.
McCaughey was advised by KPMG, another respectable outfit that benefits from lucrative government contracts. A company report on his tax affair noted: "We would prefer to minimise dissemination of knowledge of the matters contained in this report, as Revenue attack is more likely if this route was copied by others."
This outfit advises the government on financial matters, and how to run the country efficiently, and, no doubt, the value of focused leadership.
Leadership at state level was best exemplified last week by the cops. Somebody on high – in either the force or government – decided that garda resources were best deployed in hunting down the artist who drew an unflattering caricature of Brian Cowen.
This was crime-fighting at the coal face. One officer entered the building housing Today FM, moving stealthily towards The Ray D'Arcy Show in search of lethal emails from the artist. Outside, the Emergency Response Unit took up position in case anybody tried to make a run for it with the mails. The radio traffic cackled. D'Arcy is a dangerous subversive. Approach him only with the greatest caution.
This is where we're at, lurching between farce and a scramble in all sectors to shore up the padding that was grabbed through the bubble years. We're all in this together, being led from the front? Sure we are.
Here's to you, Mr Kidney, rising like an eagle in the leadership stakes, leaving rooted in the mire all those other turkey pretenders.
mclifford@tribune.ie