Enda Kenny is right about one thing. Culling a good number of TDs would be of huge benefit to the country. Many of them are simply a waste of space, chancers who manage to get by without a proper job.

Last week, we got a glimpse of some of these specimens in all their glory. Around 20 backbench Fianna Fáil TDs provided the nation with a song and dance routine which would strike fear in anybody lingering on the thought that these people actually make our laws.

We shall call the politicians in question the 'Accidents Don't Happen' club. They are opposed to new drink-driving legislation being introduced by Noel Dempsey, which would lower the permissible blood alcohol level from 80mg to 50mg per 100ml of blood. Prominent members of the 'Accidents Don't Happen' club include Mattie McGrath, Noel Treacy, Michael Moynihan, and their soul brother, Jackie Healy-Rae.

Widespread research demonstrates that lowering the limit will save lives, and preserve others from maiming. The 'Accidents Don't Happen' club is opposed to the move in pursuit of what is widely accepted to be naked political advantage. For these boys, votes are far more important than road safety.

To be fair to the club, their objectionable behaviour should be put in context. They are backbench TDs. Some who are numbered under this category do perform the role of parliamentarian as designed in other democracies, applying themselves with some enthusiasm to national issues. Most, however, do not.

The single ambition of the latter category is to get elected and re-elected. Their only concerns are those that are presented by voters in their constituencies. Precious few of them ever offer a half-decent contribution to the running of the nation. In
legislative terms, they perform the role of nodding donkeys.

One example of the priorities of these politicians occurred in October 2006, soon after Bertie Ahern's propensity to receive large sums of money was first revealed. Jim Glennon, a first-term TD, stood up at a parliamentary party meeting and asked why they were not discussing that which was the subject of conversation the length and breadth of the country. There was no response.

There had been no complaints in constituency clinics. Voters were not railing against Ahern, therefore the issue did not exist. Nothing arose in relation to protecting the integrity of a party already stained by corruption; there was no responsibility to further investigate a dodgy-looking story; no debate on whether the matter would affect the country's credibility among investors; no question of asking the leader to explain himself to his parliamentarians; nothing really, as long as the matter wasn't being raised in clinics. Glennon, who obviously had ideas about a parliamentarian's duties, didn't bother standing at the next election.

So it goes with the current furore over drink driving. There is plenty of evidence that lowering the limit from 80mg to 50mg saves lives. Dr Declan Bedford, a public-health consultant with the HSE, compiled research that shows 18 lives were lost over a three-year period in accidents where the blood alcohol level was less than 80mg. Analysis provided to the Road Safety Authority here suggests that dropping the limit would save between five and 10 lives annually, and avoid between 50 and 100 serious injuries.

When the level was reduced from 80mg to 50mg in New South Wales, fatal collisions fell by 8% and serious collisions by 7%. In Queensland there was a reduction of 18% and 14% respectively.

The 'Accidents Don't Happen' club rejects the evidence. Where once they were nodding donkeys, now they present themselves as experts on road safety research. The killing and dying on the roads is a national issue, as opposed to the type of personal issues raised frequently in constituency clinics. The bereaved, the maimed and their relatives have more urgent concerns. (Some of the bereaved like Donegal woman Susan Gray of Public Against Road Carnage go to extraordinary lengths to highlight the madness).

On the other hand, publicans still yield influence over some constituency politicians and they are kicking up blue murder, raging against the dying light of their influence. There is also a belief in some sections of rural Ireland that driving after a couple of pints should be permitted, irrespective of the evidence. The important issue of rural isolation is thus being manipulated to suit the agenda of publicans.

Where was the 'Accidents Don't Happen' club when post offices, banks and creameries were all being closed? Where were they over the last decade when rural ties were being loosened by a government more concerned with a bubble economy than a fracturing society?

The 'Accidents Don't Happen' club also has to deal with the current national malaise. The economy, Nama, and particularly the forthcoming budget, are all generating anger and resentment. A record of vocal opposition to new drink-driving laws would surely be worth a few precious votes in any snap general election.

In such an atmosphere, there is no real dilemma for these TDs about whether or not they should act to save lives. They know where their bread is buttered. Just ignore the evidence for the sake of a few votes and sorry for your troubles.

This is, we are lectured, democracy in action. This is the calibre of some of the politicians sitting in our national parliament. Do we really need them?

mclifford@tribune.ie