At the upcoming Fianna Fáil convention for Galway West, the Cinnire Grá (Captain of Love) will seek selection to contest the next election. It could make for a mutually beneficial union between party members and star power. Who wouldn’t be swayed by the Captain of Love?
Television presenter and former news anchor Gráinne Seoige might not have held public office before, but positions of responsibility come in many forms. In her role as the incumbent cinnire on a Love Island-style, bilingual Virgin Media Television dating show, she oversees paired-up contestants inside the Love Teach (house). It might not be standard preparation for the Dáil, but who’s to say it won’t prove useful?
Now Seoige has switched her focus to Politics Island, there’s a real possibility that the lure of democracy might interfere with a third series of Grá ar an Trá. Almost as seriously, it confirms a trend. Broadcasters want to be politicians and political parties are keen to have them on their ticket – it’s a match made in green rooms the world over.
Fianna Fáil didn’t invent the strategy, but it has embraced it. Buoyed by the election of ex-RTÉ broadcaster and Eurovision host Cynthia Ni Mhurchú as an MEP, the party has selected journalist Alison Comyn – a former news presenter for Sky News, UTV Ireland and BBC Northern Ireland – as a candidate in Louth.
Who else might be limbering up for a lane change? Dáithí Ó Sé? Not at the moment, says the Kerry native, though he “certainly wouldn’t rule it out going forward” – words that prompted a patch-protective Michael Healy-Rae to advise him to run for election in Galway, where the Today presenter now lives, and “stay away from Kerry”.
As suggested by recent viral clips of Ed Balls, the former UK shadow chancellor, on one of his regular Good Morning Britain appearances – including an item where he was allowed to interview home secretary Yvette Cooper, his wife – the reverse career move is often less than ideal.
I’m not saying that Stephen Donnelly and Norma Foley couldn’t team up to host the Rose of Tralee. It’s just that no one’s actually calling for this to happen. But it’s understandable why parties might reckon they’re on to something by recruiting broadcasters and ex-broadcasters to their cause.
Come election time, the nation’s lamp-posts will be adorned with the mugs of unknown newbies and only slightly less anonymous re-election seekers. Name and face recognition, and some borrowed gloss, could help carry a candidate over the line. Before we collectively decide to get insulted as an electorate – the suspicion being that the thinking here is we will be distracted by profile, by polish, by flawless hair – it’s important to note that these are not just any names and faces. They do have transferable skills.
[ Gráinne Seoige poised to seek Fianna Fáil selection for Galway West constituencyOpens in new window ]
Anyone who spent their formative professional years under the daily discipline of live television will have mastered the dual communications trick of being authoritative while also connecting with people. They will know how to simultaneously project competence and compassion. They won’t need media training to perform. Nor is there any reason why they can’t thrive if elected. Insecure terms of employment, cut-throat working climates and steady streams of online abuse are enough to put many “civilians” off putting themselves forward. To television presenters, however, this is all par for the course.
It’s tough to imagine Comyn or Seoige, both of whom are well liked, being fazed by the bruising nature of parliamentary politics when they’ve already had the temerity to be a woman on screen. And if the Dáil has space for single-issue politicians, then it should also be able to find room for people who stand for election as generalists. Journalists tend to know a little about a lot. This gives some of us delusions that we are handy in a table quiz. It leaves others dreaming of the big pivot.
That there seems to be more news faces lining up to court voters now may also spring from the reality that broadcasting is less likely than ever to be a job for life. Even the word “broadcaster”, in a time of influencers and YouTubers, sounds dusty.
But the same forces that have reshaped the media have also reshaped politics. Once news presenters concentrated on being clear, concise and a touch remote, while politicians honed their capacity to evade and fudge.
We now live, instead, in the age of the sincere self-tape. It’s not that formal interviews, debates and miscellaneous grillings are irrelevant to election outcomes. It’s just that there is more than one way to convey a “trust me” message. The skill sets have merged in the social media mélange. If I was a career politician threatened by a surge in seat-usurping blow-ins, I’d push to make public media funding as robust as possible. Keep them happy where they are before they start getting ideas and running for president.
As it stands, we can expect to see increased cross-pollination between the two worlds, with more politicians dabbling in media and more broadcasters confidently angling for their gigs. As long as everyone stays away from Kerry, it should be fine.