In an age of authenticity, why choose spin, Leo?

The Taoiseach actually has some substance, so why is he risking getting a reputation as a spin merchant, asks Brendan O’Connor

IRONICALLY, the spin unit that is supposed to buff up the Taoiseach is already damaging him. He and his people are actually finding they have to spin the story of the spin unit now. The Taoiseach was nearly caught during the week saying that he had personally appointed John Concannon to the job of head of the spin unit, but he quickly corrected himself to saying that he had merely asked if Mr Concannon would be available to be appointed to the job.

The problem with spin is that it is out of fashion. If Leo’s spin people are so smart, they should know that authenticity is all the rage now. That’s what gains trust for a brand or a person. And funnily enough, authenticity is something Leo is seen as having. This was the man, after all, who always moaned along with the rest of us about the health service, when he was health minister. He was the one who was seen to be more of a commentator on the state of the country than an actual politician. While it was seen as somewhat of a drawback for a politician in one way, it did give him a reputation as a straight talker. In interviews as Taoiseach so far, he has come across as the straightest Taoiseach we’ve had in years. Bertie spoke his own variation on English, and Enda Kenny ducked and dived with stories of men with pints and various encounters that may or may not have happened. Leo has this virtue of seeming to actually answer the question he is asked, or, at the very least, he says if he is not prepared to answer the question. Despite what we know about his ruthlessness and his skill at politicking, Leo comes across as almost earnest in interviews.

Even when he makes a fool of himself, like at Downing Street, or with the socks, there is almost a charming unguardedness about it. He even keeps in direct contact with us with weekly video messages from wherever he is.

People like this. Every celebrity and every brand spends fortunes these days going to huge efforts to prove gritty authenticity to gain that most valuable of commodities — trust. It’s all about keeping it real and creating an authentic narrative. Celebrities go out of their way to show they are just ordinary folk like the rest of us. And Varadkar had that appeal. He was a politician who didn’t seem like a politician.

The other point to note in the spin-versus-substance debate is that Leo does appear to have substance. He is, underneath it all, a serious person. From early in his political career, he has unashamedly talked about being a product of the middle classes who would stand up for the middle classes. Because what else could he be and what else could he do? They are his people, the people who pay for everything, who get up early in the morning. Given that politics generally wants everyone to be all things to all men, or at least to be primarily concerned about the less well off, it was fairly brave, and fairly real, to admit that you came from the more comfortable classes, and that they were who you represented.

You may not agree with it, but at least he’s being honest about who he is and what his political mission is. It speaks of a substance that goes beyond the latest opinion poll, or the politics of reacting to the last five minutes.

There is also something authentic and appealing about Varadkar’s obvious discomfort with some aspects of the job of being a politician. He said a long time ago that he didn’t go to the funerals of people he didn’t know because people in his stomping ground would find it odd. You suspect what Leo actually meant when he said that is that he thinks it is odd. And there is something refreshingly normal about that. There is something slightly sociopathic about how many politicians barge into funerals and various other situations, clasping hands and talking rubbish to everyone. Leo’s reticence to do this is actually quite appealing. While he was lambasted for his discomfort at the Ploughing, most of us would have to admit that if you had to go down to the Ploughing and be followed around by cameras while you made endless small talk with people you didn’t know, you wouldn’t exactly be at your most comfortable.

You’d rather a guy who saw the inherent ridiculousness in this situation being in charge than someone who lived for these events and relished them. Shy, or introverted, or both, whatever it is Leo is, it speaks of more authenticity and thoughtfulness than the usual loudmouth politician.

So why get caught up, then, in being seen as a spin merchant? Why, when you are potentially the most authentic leader the country has had in years, be seen as a guy who needs an extra layer between you and the people to communicate your message? Not only do spin machines tend to curtail a good politician’s natural appeal, they also breach the natural trust that people might have for a politician.

Micheal Martin, a politician who is, like Leo, authentic, tackled the Taoiseach recently about services for people with disabilities, and about the fact that thousands of children with disabilities, who have a limited period during which they can benefit from early intervention, to learn to speak or walk, or to develop gross or fine motor skills, don’t get the help they need. In a Republic of Opportunity, every child should at least be given the opportunity to learn to talk. Without speech, they risk being cut off from the world, from their loved ones, and from the opportunity to have an independent life. We all know parents whose child will never say “Mama” or “Dada”; whose child will never tell them they love them. We can all imagine the heartbreak for these parents of knowing their kid has a chance to learn to speak, but because they’ve been waiting years for the help they need, the window in which they might learn to speak is closing.

Latest figures show 10,000 children in the country waiting for an initial assessment for speech and language therapy. In one area in Cork, 69 such children have been waiting over two years for an assessment. That’s just the assessment, to see if they “need” speech and language therapy. Because of course, you wouldn’t just accept their parents’ word that they do. Ten thousand more kids, who have been assessed, are waiting to get the actual speech and language therapy. In another region of Cork, 165 of these kids have been waiting for more than two years. As Barnardos pointed out in a recent report on this, that means it is conceivable that a child could be waiting four years to get speech and language therapy. “This is unimaginable given the short window of learning communication skills and verbal reasoning that happens in infancy and early childhood.”

Micheal Martin brought this and other related issues up with Leo in the Dail last Wednesday week in a fairly straightforward fashion.

Leo Varadkar’s prepared answer began with him conceding that, “I acknowledge absolutely that there are lots of shortcomings and problems and that plenty more needs to be done.” He then listed the things the Government has done in the area of disability.

A frustrated Martin responded by making a very simple point. The Taoiseach had not answered the question. “It is now standard practice and a mantra whereby the Taoiseach will just itemise what he sees as positives and so on,” Martin said, “but will not deal with the hard questions that are asked. If one asked the basic question about access to therapies for children, teenagers and indeed older people in any county in this country, the answer would be that they are appalling.”

People with disabilities and, indeed, the parents of children with disabilities all over the country would have cheered if Leo Varadkar had given an authentic answer to Martin’s question. You feel the real Leo Varadkar would have given an authentic answer. You feel the real Leo Varadkar, a doctor, must be dismayed that tens of thousands of citizens of this country are missing out on a vital and urgent chance to have their own voice; to have the precious gift of being able to communicate. And communication, let’s not forget, is something that the Taoiseach regards as central to all endeavours. But instead, we got a politician’s answer. “Don’t mind that. Look over here instead.”

Leo Varadkar needs to watch out that he doesn’t get a reputation that he possibly doesn’t deserve, as someone who is not a straight talker, but just another politician. Because the 49pc of the country who believe in him, don’t believe in him because he is just another politician. They believe in him because they think he is different.

‘Leo’s shyness speaks of more authenticity than most politicians’