It’s a drama played out in real time on the nation’s most popular radio station, with large swathes of airtime devoted to the topic. Yet as the week progresses and RTÉ Radio 1 hosts continue to dissect the ructions surrounding the undeclared payments to their most highly remunerated colleague, more questions arise than answers: What, another story about Ryan Tubridy? Just wondering, is anything else happening in the world? Good lord, will this ever stop?
This isn’t an entirely facetious reaction. There’s no denying the seismic impact of the Tubridy affair on RTÉ, from the damage to public trust and the seething anger of its staff, to the serious implications for the network’s funding. As Mary Wilson tersely notes on Morning Ireland (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays): “The consequences are felt every hour in this building.” Nor is it to diminish the forensic quality of coverage across the Radio 1 schedule, which has been unflinching in its examination of matter.
But at a certain point, the accumulated volume of material threatens to suffocate the general listener, who may think the governance of the national broadcaster doesn’t merit such saturation. Meanwhile Tubridy, suspended from his show since the scandal broke, is conspicuously missing from the conversation, even as his presence – or rather absence – haunts Radio 1 like Banquo’s ghost.
Still, there are some bellwether moments, beginning with Monday’s edition of Today With Claire Byrne (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). Having been missing from her show when the story broke, the host nixes any burgeoning conspiracy theories, explaining she was away with her family: “I had no inkling there was a problem on the horizon.” After some penitential soul-searching about transparency and trust, she discloses her salary for her radio work as €280,000, a fee she rightly concede is “way beyond what many people could hope to earn”. Byrne adds that such openness “is not meant to set a precedent for others”, while doing just that: her fellow top earners quickly follow her example.
Byrne’s steady pitch barely wavers throughout, as if reading legal testimony, but it’s a telling intervention. She acknowledges her agent is Noel Kelly, who negotiated Tubridy’s infamous extra cash, but is emphatic about never having “sought, been offered or discussed any kind of commercial or side deal”. It’s hard to escape the impression of clear blue water being put between Byrne and her fellow presenter.
...as politicians trundle through over the following days, voicing demands for information from a Delphic RTÉ executive, the coverage goes in ever-decreasing circles
Examining the nitty-gritty of the matter, Byrne hears former RTÉ reporter Ciaran Mullooly starkly describe the straitened conditions in the newsroom due to cutbacks. Meanwhile the network’s education correspondent (and NUJ representative) Emma O’Kelly speaks of the fury on the ground, appealing to the Government not to make RTÉ staff “pay for mistakes we had nothing to do with”.
It’s a stirring start, but as politicians trundle through over the following days, voicing demands for information from a Delphic RTÉ executive, the coverage goes in ever-decreasing circles. It’s not just on Byrne’s show – where the host sounds genuinely thrilled at the distractions such as interviewing singer Gilbert O’Sullivan – but the station’s other flagship news magazines.
It’s of course understandable, and heartening, that Radio 1 presenters display such alacrity in pursuing the story, reminding listeners that far from being institutional shills, they’re committed to the public service ethos in a way their bosses seem to have neglected. But it can make for arid radio, particularly when no one from Montrose management deigns to appear on-air and offer clarity for the licence-paying audience.
Meanwhile, the question of whether Tubridy can return to the airwaves is treated gingerly, with presenters generally dealing with the subject in passing reference. Only on Monday’s Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) is the nettle grasped, with callers offering differing opinions of varying coherence. The dynamic is illustrated by the contretemps between Richard, who thinks the presenter should consider his position, and Rachel, who’s disgusted at how he’s been treated. Presiding over this, Joe Duffy performs a high-wire act, praising Tubridy’s talents – “I happen to think he’s brilliant” – but stressing that’s not the issue at stake.
Invoking the hashtag #dontmentionthething, stand-in host Oliver Callan banishes discussion on the controversy, bar the odd reference to ‘the unpleasantness in the basement’
Things come to a head when one caller, James, suggests Duffy can shed some light on the topic, given that his agent is Noel Kelly too. Duffy uses the opportunity to confirm his income – “I’ll tell you straight,” he says, adopting his most down-to-earth manner while pointedly stating he’s “never been offered, never requested, never received” additional payments from sponsors. Once again, Tubridy is left appearing isolated, even among his highly paid peers.
With his antennae for the wider mood, Duffy shifts to other subjects as the week goes on. Still, Wednesday’s programme on the 60th anniversary of President John F Kennedy’s visit to Ireland could be viewed as a particularly cruel trolling of the JFK-obsessed Tubs, who’s even written a book on the trip. When one caller mentions this fact, Duffy lets it go without comment, in true “don’t mention the war” fashion. But it’s actually an absorbing edition, particularly the host’s poignant conversation with American poet Lee Stockdale, whose father, a former US ambassador to Ireland, took his own life after JFK’s assassination.
Tubs-free zone
Amid the blanket coverage, the Ryan Tubridy Show (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) is, almost inevitably, one of the Tubs-free zones on the station. Invoking the hashtag #dontmentionthething, stand-in host Oliver Callan banishes discussion on the controversy, bar the odd reference to “the unpleasantness in the basement”, displaying a determined jollity and knowing fatalism worthy of a bandleader on the Titanic.
Instead, Callan infuses the slot with his own brand of breezy blather, palpably enjoying himself during his item on a “service of belonging” bringing together members of the gay and church community. With Tubridy’s return to Radio 1 an increasingly distant prospect while the storm rumbles on, Callan sounds like someone making himself comfortable.
