Watching Leo reminded me of my own liberating decision to quit Late Late
APRODUCER from Chris Evans’ radio show popped into the studio on Wednesday morning, phone in hand, as she said that I might want to know the breaking news about Leo Varadkar’s shock resignation.
I could hardly believe it and immediately went on a few WhatsApp groups to find out what the story was, but everyone at home was as mystified as I was. So all I could do was tune into the sight of a 45-year-old Taoiseach (not known for public displays of emotion) standing outside Government Buildings, flanked by several colleagues/contenders who watched solemnly as their party leader told the nation that he was not the right man for the job at this point and so it was time to get out.
As I understand it, nobody saw it coming, and the hacks in the Dáil canteen were taken as unawares as the rest of us. People wanted to know the ‘real’ reason for his departure. Few could/can fathom the idea of a Taoiseach relinquishing power at this point of a career/election cycle. It was all very odd and yet, maybe the truth of the story is as straightforward as outlined by the main actor in this drama.
Whatever your politics, there can be no denying that public discourse has deteriorated, both online and off-line. Nasty comments and cruel jibes are now par for the course, but that’s the ‘easy’ part. Mobs arriving at your doorstep or threatening to do so are now also becoming more common and that’s before we get to the daily grief that public and political figures might get on the street when walking along with family or friends.
Things have changed, not just in Ireland but around the world. Civil debate and constructive conversations are all too often hijacked by loud minority groups who rant and rave while the majority of people try to thrash things out without the hatred and the bile.
It seems that high-profile women are at the receiving end of a particularly nasty and venomous rage, online especially, and there isn’t a lot they can do about it as the internet continues to be the Wild West without a sheriff... but that’s for another day.
Back to Leo, and it’s worth mentioning that he could be burnt out, he could be a bit bored, but he definitely felt that, for various reasons, it was time to go. Since the pandemic, it has become less unusual to see high-profile politicians taking their leave much earlier than expected, so in some ways, we shouldn’t have been too shocked.
Watching Leo checking out of the Hotel Dáilifornia, it reminded me of my own decision to leave The Late Late Show. There was a moment in August 2023 when, like an epiphany, I felt it was time, and after talking it through with family and a few friends (who were all surprised until I explained myself), I felt so liberated. I was so tired and out of juice post-pandemic, and things were simply not sitting right for me. If I stayed on, I’d let my team down, myself down and my audience down. Nobody would win. Making the announcement was liberating and the run from March to May was tremendous fun. I was a new man, ready for new adventures, and then… well, that’s for another day too, but sometimes the reason to get out at the top is easily explained.