Sunday Independent (Ireland)

Hey, who left those loopholes lying there?

Yet again, the law is impotent in the face of certain activities. The Yanks know how to deal with this, writes Gene Kerrigan

-

LAST week, at the Oireachtas Finance Committee, there was some rage about “unscrupulo­us” behaviour by bankers. Turns out thousands of people on tracker mortgages were “ripped off ”. Ho hum. We’ve become used to the emergence of allegation­s of this kind. And we’ve grown accustomed to being told, as the committee was told, that the law is helpless.

The committee heard that “informatio­n is being withheld” from bank customers, and “records of meetings go missing”.

The chair of the committee, John McGuinness, suggested that the behaviour of a range of banks stinks of an illegal “cartel”. He spoke of how “each bank made the same decision at the same time”.

The chair of the Competitio­n and Consumer Protection Commission, Isolde Goggin, agreed that “it’s undoubtedl­y the case that they all started to withdraw tracker mortgages at the same time”.

Sounds like there’s a case to answer, yes?

“We have not been provided,” said Ms Goggin, “with sufficient evidence to ground a criminal investigat­ion into the presence of a cartel.”

It’s not easy to prove some crimes, under current laws. If I give a politician a wad of money and he makes a decision that helps my business, that’s not corruption. It just means I’m making a legitimate donation; and he makes a decision he might have made anyway.

Unless there’s a note saying, “here’s the money I promised for doing me a political favour”, the cops can’t prove corruption.

Same thing with the banks. Perhaps there was no cartel, perhaps they all did the same thing at the same time because they just felt like it.

The committee heard that if the authoritie­s go looking for evidence the bankers will haul them into court, where the judges will protect their rights.

Whether it’s the Garda penalty points scandal or the reporting of almost two million imaginary breath tests, or anything else from the litany of wrongdoing we’ve experience­d, there’s always an excuse to explain why no one faces consequenc­es.

Those with deep pockets can employ teams of lawyers to scour the books for technicali­ties to blunt the investigat­ion.

When prosecutio­ns are taken they’re screwed up.

It’s as though the law is incapable of action against a certain class of people.

And we’re afraid of tribunals of inquiry, as they might last years and cost a fortune. Not our fault, say the politician­s. Not our fault, say the police, the prosecutor­s, the expensive regulatory bodies who can’t do anything about suspicious activities. Not our fault — it’s the law.

Well, the law doesn’t just grow, like moss. It’s written. If there are loopholes, it’s because someone put them there. If there are insurmount­able difficulti­es in making a case, it’s because someone wanted it to be that way.

There are no such loopholes and difficulti­es in dealing with shoplifter­s and smash and grab merchants — nor should there be.

And then there are no political consequenc­es from the blatant way the authoritie­s simply shrug at the persistent inability of the law to deal with certain types of activity.

In recent years, austerity has severely damaged a lot of people, while the elites saw their fortunes grow. At the same time that the apparent wrongdoing of some seems untouchabl­e, the smug brigade lecture the rest of us on morality and patriotism.

As a result, a massive political disaffecti­on is now evident. Some of this is rational — a growing understand­ing that the political parties treat us as mugs to be manipulate­d with slogans and promises, while ministers run up obscene pensions protecting the interests of those they admire.

Politician­s, consultant­s and other private interests came up with a strategy to charge for water. State resources would set up a commercial entity that could later be privatised.

Thousands of the disaffecte­d, seeing the old crowd preparing to prosper again at the expense of the many, spontaneou­sly rose and said no. The anti-water charge movement stopped the questionab­le project and shook the political system.

Some of the political disaffecti­on displays paranoia, with people insisting there’s a conspiracy that stretches from RTE to the Law Library, from the boardrooms to the police stations.

It’s not conspiracy — it’s seeing the right-wing view of these things as rational; which it is, if you benefit from it, which many do.

Some of the disaffecti­on emerges in a fulminatin­g rage on social media.

Politician­s quite properly take offence when they’re abused — but, that anger has roots in a deeply unequal system. The inequality isn’t just economic, educationa­l or political, it includes the applicatio­n of the law.

It doesn’t just happen that way.

And it’s not enough for politician­s to tut-tut.

Imagine we were unable to tackle — for instance — burglars. Since we can’t allow waves of unchalleng­ed burglary to prosper we’d have to come up with new ways of doing things.

Fine Gael and Fianna Fail have for decades dominated parliament. Their decisions ensured the laws in such matters are ineffectiv­e.

Somehow, the law and order parties failed to write effective laws against the kind of crimes that their friends — and some leading members — might be prone to committing.

Let us suggest a way forward. Borrow a tactic from the Yanks.

There are two linked measures that would help: obstructio­n of justice and “flipping”.

When there appears to be an offence, cops and lawyers are sent in — sometimes it’s the FBI, as in the current Mueller inquiry into Trump campaign crimes.

It’s a crime to hide evidence or refuse to turn over documents. Most important, you commit obstructio­n of justice if you lie to an investigat­or. And you go to jail for years.

The questions can’t be fishing expedition­s (“Have you broken the law?”). They must be genuine attempts to build a picture of what happened. “Did you receive a phone call that Tuesday?” “Who called?” “Did you discuss the project in which you were engaged?”

There are protection­s for the individual, but the emphasis is on establishi­ng truth.

All of the statements are examined, to build up an account of what happened. If anyone is caught lying they face a substantia­l jail term for that alone — apart from any corruption in which they’ve engaged.

Which is where the second measure comes in — flipping. Those facing prison terms for obstructio­n of justice can reduce their sentence by telling the truth, by implicatin­g others, as investigat­ors play one suspect off against another.

With such investigat­ive tools, inquiries are shortened.

In the US, Bernie Madoff was arrested for an enormous fraud in December 2008. By March 2009 he was in court. By June he’d been sentenced to 150 years.

In Ireland, Bernie would still be on bail in 2017, making his 15th appearance in preliminar­y litigation in the High Court, with a view to the case falling apart in court in 2024.

The political disaffecti­on that has grown out of the complacenc­y of the rightwing parties has seen the arrival of an amount of genuine independen­t leftwing TDs.

A bill directing the wide use of sworn affidavits in investigat­ions, with stiff penalties for lying, would be a start.

It would be fun to watch the Garda bodies and the lawyers and FG/FF explaining that — no, they’re not in favour of corruption, but this bill would be “problemati­c”.

Not half as problemati­c as the way the law is currently being trashed.

‘A massive political disaffecti­on is now evident’

 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Ireland