This is what I wrote in the Sunday Tribune last October when I reviewed Bertie Ahern's autobiography: "Although it is highly readable, and genuinely interesting, in places – particularly where it deals with the Northern Ireland peace process and the cobbling together of a deal on the European Constitution in 2004 – it is sunk utterly by Ahern's failure to deal comprehensively with the controversies which dogged his last years in power."

I went on to say: "The wretched economy he bequeathed to Brian Cowen is glossed over. Ahern has a very strong attachment to the budget surpluses his governments ran in almost every year of his leadership. A more reflective, self-critical author might wonder how those surpluses became deficits so suddenly. But this book is not about reflection or self-knowledge. It is about placing a self-serving draft of history on the record, before Judge Alan Mahon gives us a more credible version some time next year... There is a self-pitying tone to much of the book."

This is what appears on the front cover of the paperback edition of Bertie Ahern's autobiography, which comes out next month: "Highly readable" – Diarmuid Doyle, Sunday Tribune.

When I was sent a photograph of the book's cover last Monday, my first thought was: "This has to be a joke." My second thought, when I realised it wasn't a joke, was: "There should be a law against this kind of thing." And, sure enough, there is. The 2007 Consumer Protection Act specifically deals with misleading information that could influence a shopper to purchase something she or he wouldn't otherwise buy. The act was inspired by the EU's unfair commercial practices directive which outlaws, amongst other things, quotations on publicity material which misrepresent reviews, take them out of context or print them with key words missing.

The EU rules were drawn up to combat the kind of misrepresentation Ahern and his publishers are trying to get away with on the paperback. There are many, many examples, from across all areas of the arts. In 2006, the Observer wrote about a musical called Sinatra at the London Palladium: "For all the energy, razzmatazz and technical wizardry, the audience had been short-changed." Within a few days, advertising material for Sinatra contained only the words, "energy, razzmatazz and technical wizardry". The Independent On Sunday wrote of a play called Zipp: "If schoolboy innuendo is your bag, book now." The subsequent advertising said only: "book now". Promotional material for Guys and Dolls in 2005 contained one word from an Independent on Sunday review: "hilarious". The original critique had suggested that while the original production from 1950 was, indeed, hilarious, the current show "often falls somewhat flat".

It's hard to assess precisely the effect these publicity blurbs have on the behaviour of consumers, but it seems likely that somebody trying to assess which West End show to attend from the bamboozling choice on offer could be influenced by the positive reviews he sees on posters outside the theatre or in advertising material.

Similarly with books. From the start of June, shoppers will see the big displays of Ahern's paperback, look at the solitary "highly readable" blurb on its cover, and may well be influenced to buy it on the basis that these words imply the Sunday Tribune review was wholly or mainly positive.

Assuming that the edition of the book on sale in a few weeks contains this two-word quote, I'd like in the interests of truth and accuracy – concepts that have meant little to Bertie Ahern for two decades and more – to point out that the review wasn't positive, either wholly or mainly. The words "highly readable" applied to some small sections of the book, and were aimed more at Ahern's ghostwriter Richard Aldous, whose sense of history and clear writing style bring particular set-piece occasions alive. But not even Aldous, a former Sunday Tribune columnist, can disguise the huge gaps in Ahern's story. The financial questions surrounding the former Taoiseach are glossed over; there is no serious attempt to grapple with the damage his governments did to the country; paranoia about enemies, particularly in the media, is everywhere.

If you had to take two words from the Sunday Tribune review that might more accurately reflect its tone, "self-serving draft" would do nicely. Or "self-pitying tone". Or even "credibility problems". Ahern's version is about 20% accurate.

Which, when you think about it, could be the man's epitaph.

Buy the book, if you must, but expect a lot less than highly readable.

Cry Baby: Ahern gives us new gra for McDowell

Dermot Ahern's cry-baby response last week to a piece of standard polemic from the Garda Representative Association made us long for one of his predecessors. We never thought we'd miss Michael McDowell, but at least he had the stomach for a fight and the courage to go marching into a garda conference and say what he felt. Ahern's assertion that Michael O'Boyce's criticism was an affront to democracy, and his demand that the GRA apologises to the Irish people, was pompous twaddle. If Ahern believes gardaí are a special breed of people who should not be engaging in political debate, he should treat them as such and give them back the money his government took off them in the last budget. But as long as guards are feeling the same pain as the rest of the public service, they have the same right to complain.

ddoyle@tribune.ie