Seanad beyond redemption after first-day embarrassment?

Close followers of 'Oireachtas Report' on RTE television - and there can't be many of those - might occasionally spot the body language of younger members of the Seanad whenever their deliberations are covered. They manage to sidle 'off camera' altogether or, because the seating is not tiered, duck behind the broad backs of colleagues already on their feet. It is obvious they don't want too much exposure as members of an institution that is viewed as anachronistic, largely irrelevant, associated so often with being 'old' or the embodiment of the political living dead - a graveyard of lost ambition, hopelessness and helplessness. And as for its first debate since the recent elections, it couldn't be matched for its manifestation of Ballymagash in all its parish-pumpy glory. Frank Hall (come back, all is forgiven) might have drooled over its self-congratulatory smugness. Upper House indeed. Who is kidding whom? For those aficionados of 'Oireachtas Report' trivia, try putting your stopwatch on the length of that first debate. And note the first item on the agenda. No, not 'the split', but the awarding of a week's holiday for all new senators. It took a former journalist and now senator, John Whelan, to spot how out of touch the new Seanad appeared to be. "We got off to a bad start last Wednesday, with long speeches similar to what you would hear at a poor county council meeting," he said. "We should have dealt with other business after electing a cathaoirleach. Instead, some senators took the opportunity to waffle. I am not casting aspersions on anybody, but we are doomed if we continue like this." Ever since Taoiseach Enda Kenny announced 18 months ago that he wanted to abolish the Seanad and was willing to put the issue to the people in a referendum, the voices for 'reform' have grown louder. The voices seem to come from the serried ranks of those who were or are members, or their fellow travellers in the chattering classes. The Seanad has turned into a rest home for those who have a poor report card from 'real' elections. If you asked the ordinary man or woman in the street about the future of the Seanad, they might just as easily drop dead from boredom at your feet or, in their rage at all the institutions that have so let them down recently, cry out "get the bloody tumbrils rolling". Of course, the Taoiseach didn't help matters. He appeared decisive and in charge, an Action Man setting an agenda and appearing to be radical. Following closely on his heels came the Fianna Fail and Labour parties. Overnight, abolition had become the new electronic book reader. But where are the spirited arguments for abolition? Where are the explanations and the deep conviction driving the abolition bandwagon? Was it good enough to trot out the lame 'not fit for purpose' or 'too costly' (€25 million a year) mantras? We, the great unwashed, and, as far as the Seanad is concerned, largely disenfranchised lumpen proletariat, haven't had a decent question thrown at us as to why we should hold onto an institution that is a mirror of the Dail, held in the vice grip of the political parties. Here are a few. What does it do, please tell? If we are so keen on 'reform', who has been sitting on the 12 reports on Seanad reform (the last one in 2004)? And, in true 'Who wants to be a millionaire?' style, which of the three Taoisigh (including Taoiseach Kenny) has suggested the election of senators by popular vote? Want to phone a friend? The new leader of the Seanad, Senator Maurice Cummins, has come up with the radical suggestion (!) that the incoming Seanad should sit for four days a week rather than three. The previous Seanad sat on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and adjourned early on Thursday afternoons. Mr Cummins says the institution will meet every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, "and on Friday, if necessary". Can you hear the throaty, deeply emotional roar of approval from the thousands of grateful hospitality industry workers who are faced with having their Sundays treated as part of the normal working week, and without a hint of an extra payment over and above their already poor rates of pay for spending these hours away from their families? Get the tumbrils out. I'm ready for knitting at the steps of the guillotine.