Room with a view: as Charles Haughey dryly noted, the Seanad has powers only to delay rather than veto decisions of the Dáil

ON their own, the numbers 45 and 1,096 are meaningless in the context of the debate on whether to scrap Seanad Éireann. But in those two numbers lie the most devastating arguments against the status quo.


It has been 45 years since the Seanad last rejected a government bill, while 1,096 is the size of the tiny electorate for the vast majority of seats in the upper house. These two facts raise serious questions about the relevance and democratic basis for the second chamber.


Most of today's voters weren't even born when, on 1 July 1964, the Pawnbrokers Bill – being guided through the Oireachtas by then justice minister Charlie Haughey – was defeated on a division on the second stage in the Seanad by 15 votes to 14.


The vote was taken at 10.30pm, by which time a few Fianna Fáil senators had gone home, perhaps exhausted by the extreme rigours of being a representative in a body that would sit for a less than whopping 17 days in that entire year.


While some senators criticised the bill, refusing to accept Haughey's argument that there was still room in society for pawnbrokers, its defeat seems to have been caused by what one senator would describe as Haughey's "insolent attitude to the house". That and the fact the government was caught on the hop by the late-night vote.


"Good manners pay good dividends," chided a senator when the vote was announced. But even in that hour the impotence of the Seanad was clear from Haughey's six-word response: "It will pass just the same."


Back then, the pay of senators was also a topic of public debate, particularly when they were given a pay rise of £250 to £1,000 a year – a nice stipend given that the house at the time was closed for business 95% of the year.


Since then, the number of sitting days for the Seanad has increased markedly to the point that it now sits almost as often as Dáil Éireann, although whether this should be emphasised by the senators to quite the degree it was last week is moot, considering the Dáil sits for fewer than 100 days a year.


The size of the Seanad's electoral base has remained largely unchanged. One person, the Taoiseach, is responsible for "electing" (if that is the right word) 11 of the members, a measure that ensures the government of the day has a majority in the second house.


Fewer than 1,100 people, made up of TDs, senators and city and county councillors, elect 43 of the senators. These senators represent notional vocational panels – labour, cultural and educational, agriculture, industrial and administration.


The inspiration for the panels idea came from the trend for corporatism, where different groups are brought together to establish policies in the interests of the various groups and, hence, society. But, as DCU's senior lecturer in government Gary Murphy has pointed out, restricting the electoral system to TDs, senators and councillors – of whom over 80% come from the three main political parties – reverses the aspiration.


The remaining six senators are chosen by a much bigger electorate. Almost 17,000 graduates from Trinity College Dublin voted in the Seanad elections two years ago; the turnout for the National University of Ireland vote was 37,012.


While the numbers are higher, they do not offset concerns about the lack of representation. The fact that the ability to elect senators is restricted to graduates of Trinity and NUI is an anachronism, disenfranchising hundreds of thousands of graduates who completed a third-level course elsewhere.


11 attempts at Seanad reform


It is now 30 years since an amendment was passed giving the Oireachtas the power to extend the franchise to all graduates by ordinary legislation. As ever with Seanad reform (there have been at least 11 different attempts to reform the body since it was set up by Eamon De Valera in its current guise in 1937), nothing has been done about implementing this. And in a country where less than half the population have gone to college, the notion of third-level graduates, as a distinct group, electing senators is surely open to question.


As Haughey so dryly noted back in 1964, the Seanad has powers only to delay rather than veto decisions of the Dáil. There is, however, a constitutional provision that states that if a majority of senators, and at least one third of TDs, present a petition to the president stating that a bill is of great "national importance", the president can decline to sign that bill until it has been referred to the people. This means putting the matter to the voters by way of an ordinary referendum or a general election.


In theory, this is a potentially powerful tool at the Seanad's disposal. However, in 72 years, it has never been exercised.


With the Seanad reduced to a talking shop – the ability to amend legislation aside – it is impossible to dispute the case for reform of the Seanad. But questions remain about how this can be done and whether or not, after so many false dawns, the time for change has passed and abolition is now the best solution.


Five years ago, the report on Seanad reform recommended abolishing the vocational panels, filling 26 seats by direct elections and allowing all graduates to elect university senators. The Taoiseach's nominees would be required to represent Northern Ireland, the diaspora and marginalised groups, while there would be a greater role for the Seanad in scrutinising government and EU legislation.


This would undoubtedly be an improvement on what is there today, but there is something woolly about the requirement for Taoiseach's nominees and there are legitimate doubts as to whether there should be university senators at all. Most importantly, the report did not recommend changes to the powers of the Seanad. This means that, while the make-up of the house would change and become more representative, its relevance would remain at issue. The question will not go away: what function does the Seanad serve?


Perhaps the strongest argument that it can play a valuable role comes from New Zealand. One of the main criticisms of unicameral political systems (having a single legislative chamber) is the absence of checks and balances so important to democracy.


In the early 1990s, New Zealand implemented "big bang"-style market-led reforms of its health service. The reforms were regarded as disastrous and within a few years had been substantially changed. Critics of the reforms argue the county's unicameral system was a key factor in the reforms being rushed through without proper scrutiny.


Checks and balances


One medical expert wrote of the reforms that "in stark contrast to, perhaps, the political system of the United States, where policy proposals are routinely scrutinised and stymied by institutional barriers that sharpen the focus on policy viability, New Zealand's unicameral system allowed the new health structures to be hastily developed and implemented".


Ireland does not have the first-past-the-post electoral system of New Zealand, which produces the one-party majority government so critical to introducing these radical reforms there in the 1990s. The Irish PR-STV electoral system, for better or worse, almost inevitably produces coalitions. The tightness of election results also puts even more emphasis on consensus and sharply reduces the risk of what has been described in other countries as an "elective dictatorship".


However, there are similarities between Ireland and New Zealand, in that power is concentrated in the cabinet rather than in the parliament and, apart from referring legislation to the Supreme Court on constitutional grounds, the president is wholly restricted in vetoing policy.


However, given the Seanad's limited powers and the fact it is almost half a century since it last defeated a government bill, one has to question whether it plays a significant role in providing those much valued checks and balances.


Reforming the Seanad to give it such a role offers up potential problems. Is it practical or desirable to have a Seanad that is consistently delaying government legislation, perhaps for political reasons? And if it isn't, then what useful function can an upper house serve?


Enda Kenny seems to have answered 'no' and 'none' to the above two questions. And if, come what seems an inevitable referendum, enough people agree with him, the (not very taxing to begin with) days of Seanad Éireann will be numbered.