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Many staff and workers will be familiar with the cut-and-run approach, where a controversial announcement is pitched into an enterprise on Fridays, often by email or noticeboards, just as people begin to wind down for the weekend. Little or no chance is offered for face-to-face discussion. Perhaps there is a feedback loop, maybe there isn’t. Or there is the shock and awe approach, rolling the hand grenade in at short notice, sometimes, but not always, just before the decision is broadcast to the wider world. This particular style of performance art is often designed to provide an impression of firm government, a symbolic rolling-up of the sleeves as a precursor to some long overdue meaningful action. We have already commented on the decision to transfer the duties and responsibilities of Children’s Health Ireland (CHI) to the HSE after a troubling six months of medical controversies and treatment failures, coupled with unseemly rows about remuneration, insurance claims, and delays. However, what will also catch the attention of anyone with a passing interest in the travails of CHI is the manner in which the new medicine was applied. CHI’s chief executive Lucy Nugent has only been in post since last November after 10 years at Tallaght University Hospital in Dublin, where she fulfilled the roles of chief operations officer and, since January 2019, CEO. Ms Nugent, a trained nurse with an impressive array of qualifications, became the first woman to be president of the European Association of Hospital Managers in its 52-year history. She says she was only informed of the decision to subsume CHI into the HSE on Tuesday evening, just a few hours before it was made public the next morning by health minister Jennifer Carroll O’Neill. Such was the rush to break the news that some staff missed an early-morning email because they were on their way in to work. Or perhaps they have taken all those good intentions about the “right to disconnect” outside normal hours at face value. Notwithstanding the merits of the changes, there is a certain amount of retrospective justification about the surprise timing of the announcement. In New York, the Tánaiste Simon Harris — health minister between 2016 and 2020 — glossed the decision by saying he had been talking to the minister about it for “quite a” [unspecified] “period of time”. He said: CHI was established to do an important job of bringing together three hospitals and that job is done, so it’s about the next phase. Vagueness and ambiguity, and the wriggle room it provides, is an important stock-in-trade for politicians, and those with an appreciation of the practice will note that an umbrella phrase such as the “next phase” can cover a multitude of possibilities. For a notable addition to the lexicon, though, you would be hard pushed to top this week’s contribution from the oleaginous Matt Hancock, one-time British MP, health minister, prime ministerial hopeful, and I’m a Celebrity contestant. Hancock was pressed by his country’s ongoing covid inquiry, which unlike our own is empowered to ask embarrassing questions, how it was that his country’s supply chains were clogged with overpriced personal protective equipment, much of which was taken away and destroyed by the companies who were hired to provide it. His answer? “We over-succeeded.” That is a classic of its kind. Watch out for its deployment here in the future. Big pay packets tell us there's room at the top Certain things, we are told, are unavoidable. Death, taxes, and an abiding interest in other people’s money — particularly when the beneficiaries are big cheeses in State or semi-state bodies. The latest subject of attention is the mooted exit of Kenny Jacobs as chief executive from the Dublin Airport Authority, for reasons as yet unspecified and at a potential cost said to be in the region of €1m. That deal has to be signed off by two ministers — Jack Chambers and Darragh O’Brien — and you don’t need the spidey sense of a Marvel Comics hero to sense a political row in the making. Mr Jacobs, 51, from Montenotte in Cork, has been in place since January 2023, a mere 21 months. Much of that time has been marked by increasing agitation over the 32m cap on passenger numbers at Ireland’s main airport. He joined from Ryanair, where he was credited with transforming customer services, digital sales, and bookings — the latest iteration of which is set to be introduced after the school holidays when Europe’s leading commercial carrier will no longer accept paper boarding passes. Downloading the airline’s app and mastering flaky networks will be as important as knowing the size of your carry-on bag. Although Mr Jacobs took over in Dublin at a difficult time post-covid, he tackled serious congestion and improved amenities while planning for a complex €2.4bn infrastructure upgrade, attempting to ease limits on night flights and litigating over passenger restrictions. The size of his exit package has already attracted outrage. Sinn Féin’s public expenditure spokesperson, Mairéad Farrell, says that “at any time, this would be an insult to ordinary people”, but “in the context of a raging cost-of-living crisis... it is totally unacceptable”. We will see what happens and whether the relationship with the board — and with the local authority, Fingal County Council — has broken irrevocably. If he does leave, it will be early in the new year, and his departure will add to a hubbub over gold-plated rewards for public servants — which sometimes fails to recognise that there is an open market for high achievers which competes for skills and experience. Another big name, Bernard Gloster, is due to retire during the first quarter of 2026. His status as a 40-year veteran means he will walk away with a €562,000 pension lump sum and annual payments of almost €190,000. He is the second consecutive HSE chief executive to cut short a five-year contract. His predecessor, Paul Reid, left midway through his term to spend more time with his family. Heavily-incentivised contracts tell us there is a shortage of appropriate talent to fill demanding and stressful jobs at the top of the State sector. Complaints that there is an excess of largesse may make for a good debating point, but they are unlikely to solve the problem.
