Charlie McCreevy, writing in this paper last week, appears to think that I am ill-informed and profoundly depressing, writes Mary Raftery.
Certainly a round condemnation, but one which is difficult to take seriously from a man who seemingly has great difficulty in distinguishing his Beckett from his Dickens, or even his Godot from his Micawber.
The members of the European Parliament were treated earlier this month to a unique literary allusion from the Irish commissioner. He was addressing them on the matter of the much-discredited EU draft services directive. With great rhetorical panache, he enjoined upon them the need to act. "We in Europe," he declared, "do not have the option of sitting on our hands and praying and hoping that something will turn up, as in Beckett's novel." Could he have meant Beckett's play Waiting for Godot? Or perhaps the most famous author of the "something will turn up" phrase, the improvident Wilkins Micawber in Charles Dickens's David Copperfield?
Sadly, we may never know what was in the commissioner's mind, on this or indeed on many other aspects of the EU services directive. There was a marked difference in tone between his combative message to Ireland in this paper last week and his considerably more humble utterances to the European Parliament.
Mr McCreevy writes that he finds it depressing to hear of opposition to the directive in "Ireland, a country that has gained so much from the Union". However, he has been singing a different tune in Brussels, where he recently told MEPs: "I realise that the services directive, as initiated, has not a snowball's chance in hell of getting through."
Compare his criticism of the debate (what little of it there is) here in Ireland - "When some people speak about the services directive introducing 'social dumping' . . . frankly, they don't want the competition and they don't care if it will result in greater choice and lower prices for consumers" - with his considerably more conciliatory approach towards MEPs: "The directive will have to be clear that conditions and standards for workers will not be affected in any way. The text will have to be watertight on this point . . . I don't want to hear any more talk about so-called social dumping . . . we should put an end to this confusion."
But who caused the confusion in the first place? "Social dumping" in the context of the services directive refers to the danger of wages and standards being driven downwards by allowing workers from low-pay countries to undercut those enjoying higher standards of protection. If notions of "social dumping" are so absurd, why then does the commission recognise the need to rewrite the directive to make watertight the standards relating to employees' pay and conditions?
For Irish consumption, Commissioner McCreevy writes that these concerns are not really the issue at all. He did not dare say this to the European Parliament, where fury has been expressed at the palpably pro-business thrust of the directive and at its negative effects on citizens' rights.
Consider what the shiny new services directive regime might mean for the consumer. Say, for the sake of argument, that you have secured the services of a firm of architects to design your house. It is an entirely normal company, with offices in this country. Everything is OK until a major design problem emerges and you end up needing legal redress.
You then discover that, in fact, the architectural firm was operating under the "country of origin principle", meaning that it had to obey only the rules of the country where it was established. In this instance, that turns out to be Hungary. In order to seek redress, you are likely to have to go to a Hungarian court and try to argue your case there. And, as differing legislation may apply, you may not even have a case in the first place.
This is just one of many problems with the directive. Others relate to its inclusion of healthcare and welfare provision as economic activities. Charlie McCreevy made a cryptic reference in his Irish article last week to the removal of "certain sensitive sectors", if this might be "helpful". Addressing MEPs, he was much more direct, giving a firm commitment to the "exclusion from the scope of the directive of sectors such as health and publicly-funded services of general interest".
Further intriguing aspects of the directive include the forced removal of advertising bans for professionals (presumably including lawyers and doctors); the forbidding of restrictions on marketing campaigns (will this apply to tobacco and alcohol?); and the eventual dismantling of individual state control over gambling and lotteries.
It is now up to MEPs to make some sense out of what is rapidly becoming an unholy mess. At least 800 amendments are expected to be tabled, and for once it is likely that the McCreevy tactic of stubborn bluster will not wash. He must indeed be hoping, Micawber-like, that something will turn up.