The second thing you notice about Gareth Sheridan is his youth. He was 36 last week and looks much younger, incredibly fresh-faced despite wearing a beard.
If he makes it on to the ballot paper, he will be the youngest candidate to contest the election since the office was established in 1937.
The first thing is his height.
Sheridan stands at six foot, seven inches and will indubitably also have the distinction of being the tallest person to contest the election. (Éamon de Valera was four inches shorter.) In the Brú cultural centre (a modern building) in Cashel on Wednesday, Sheridan had to stoop to come in through the door. An act of contortion would be required for him to go through some of the ancient doorways of the Rock of Cashel above us in the Co Tipperary town.
RM Block
Sheridan, from Terenure in Dublin, is a cofounder (in 2012) of Nutribrand, a US-based company that has developed transdermal drug-delivery products – essentially patches that deliver drugs through the skin. Its lead product is a patch for the delivery of pain-relief opioid, fentanyl, which deters abuse of the drug.
He lived in Salt Lake City with his wife Heidi and daughter Roe until January when he returned to begin his presidential campaign. He is a former Young Entrepreneur of the Year and was a finalist for the senior gong this year, before withdrawing to concentrate on the election.
He is in the middle of his campaign to get on the ballot.
Sheridan is unlikely to receive the backing of 20 Oireachtas members so he will need to be nominated by four of the 31 councils.
For now, it’s the modern version of the chicken dinner circuit. Sheridan has been meeting councillors one-to-one for weeks now, looking for their support. On Wednesday it was Tipperary. Later that evening he travelled to Kerry. He has been living on the road for weeks.
So what is the motivation for a businessman to divert so radically and have a tilt at the presidency? It’s about representation, he says; representing Ireland internationally and at home, and representing a “big group of people who don’t feel represented”.
Specifically, it’s the locked-out generation, younger people who can’t buy a home or have had to live abroad.
“Article 45.2.1 of the Constitution says that the citizens may through their occupations find the means of a reasonable provision for their domestic needs,” he says.
“And what’s your number one domestic need? It’s a roof over your head. This is a constitutional failure at Government level. I’m not saying I will be an antagonist to the Government, but you can keep that top of the narrative and remind people we need to have a solution-oriented focus,” he says.
“I think now is the time for somebody to change the opportunities afforded to the younger generations, and that starts with somebody who is of that generation.”
Sheridan says that conversations with new people he meets open with the line: “Are you insane?”
He knows that any possible sketchy record in his patch company will be subjected to intense scrutiny, as will his record and back story. His views on Gaza and a United Ireland would not differ from mainstream Irish opinion. He indicates he is trying to steer a middle path.
“I don’t mind being scrutinised or having a forensic review of me as a person. That’s part and parcel of it. We need to know who’s representing us,” he says.
“We have such a division. You can have a different opinion of somebody without hating them. We are going down this left and right narrative now where if you don’t agree with me you are not my friend.”
Sheridan is a smooth communicator and presents as somebody who is plausible in his ambition. Given the predilection of councillors to give the nod to people whom they like, Sheridan has a biddable chance of making it into the race.
Elsewhere, ducking out of the miserably cold rain in Roscommon town on Thursday, and into John Corcoran men’s wear on Church Street, Nick Delehanty announces with aplomb that he’s looking for their “best presidential suit”.
Delehanty, a 35-year-old Independent candidate and critic of immigration, ran very unsuccessfully in both the local and general elections last year.
But he believes he could fare better in a national campaign such as the presidency where he can capitalise on the “organic” online base he has built.
His pitch to councillors will include analytics of his social media content, particularly his engagement and metrics with those aged between 20 to 45.
“The demographic of councillors is the opposite,” Delehanty says. “So it’s like starting again.”
He says his online audience is 95 per cent Irish, earning more support from men on video-sharing network TikTok, but a more even gender split on the “better ground” of image-sharing Instagram.
His most viral videos are critiques of the State’s international protection system, which has made him a bit of a darling in online right-wing spaces, though he effusively resists the label, opting to call himself a “radical centrist” instead.
Leaning over a clothes rail and listening to Delehanty’s pitch is local Fianna Fáil councillor Marty McDermott, who works in the shop. (“Give it a good plug, all the top brands!”)
“The very best of luck to you now,” he tells Delehanty. “You’re a brave man.”
Delehanty was meeting local representatives in Roscommon on Thursday. He also targeted councillors in Athlone this week, a tactical decision to capitalise on Delehanty supporting protests against a proposal to accommodate international protection applicants in tented accommodation at Lissywollen.
Delehanty jokes that “the further you get from Dublin”, the more likely Fianna Fáil councillors are to hear him out.
His campaign is focusing on the party of Taoiseach Micheál Martin, believing Fianna Fáil representatives have been more receptive to him than those in Fine Gael.
Councillors who have grappled or even sympathised with local protests against international protection accommodation service (IPAS) centres may be amenable to Delehanty, who is earnest, articulate and well-prepared in his pitches.
But he is not an uncontroversial figure.
For example, he says he is open to Ireland adopting a measure that would see high-value items beyond a certain threshold, such as smartphones or cash, being taken from people who come here seeking international protection.
In other European countries, the laws are ostensibly about seizing assets that can help fund the cost of accommodating people seeking asylum.
But Delehanty says that under such a law, the likelihood would be that “you actually end up taking nothing from anybody”.
“What it is is a deterrent. Because if somebody is coming in and they have an iPhone, and they’re just coming in for purely economic reasons, they don’t apply [for international protection]. It just raises the bar. The goal of an asylum system should be to help the most neediest people in the world,” he said.
But surely people with acute need, such as those in Gaza for example, would also have high-value items such as smartphones?
“Yep, that’s a good point ... ,” he concedes.
But instead of resiling from the position completely, he says “let’s have the debate” and “socialise” these ideas.
A self-professed “free speech maximalist”, Delehanty is sometimes a proponent of ideas he doesn’t even seem to fully agree with himself.
For example, he’s open to a law that would ban facial coverings for Muslim women working in the Civil Service, even while admitting: “If someone wants to wear a headscarf, they should be allowed to wear a headscarf.”
“So that’s right up to the line ... but let’s have the debate.”
He also thinks Muslim women in Ireland should also be obliged to shake hands with men, despite the fact it is considered haram, as part of his critique of “multiculturalism”.
These views may be of note to councillors, who will recall colleagues who were criticised for airing the views of the likes of conspiracy theorist Gemma O’Doherty.
Sheridan and Delehanty seem to be the only prospective candidates at present who are seriously canvassing for the support of councils.
Correspondence received by a number of councils from presidential hopefuls so far includes Sheridan and Delehanty, a couple of complete unknowns and a novelty candidate, which is actually a wheelbarrow called Barry Wheely-Row.
Michael Flatley is currently on holiday and there is no record yet of him having contacted a council. Conor McGregor is cosplaying as a nominated candidate online, having made no effort at all to seek a nomination in real life.
Despite the genuine efforts of Delehanty and Sheridan, Dr Eoin O’Malley of Dublin City University’s School of Law and Government remains pessimistic about the Young Turks’ path to the ballot paper.
O’Malley says that if Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil councillors follow the directions of their party headquarters, it could be “almost impossible” for Independents to get on the ticket.
“Some councillors probably are a little disaffected with the leadership and may feel that there’s nothing to lose [by facilitating an Independent],” says O’Malley.
“You might get a few councillors who say: ‘Let’s give them a chance,’ but to get enough across four councils seems like a step too far.”
