If there is one voice that has permeated lockdown, it’s Joe Duffy’s. Liveline is of course an Irish institution, but like many things it has taken on an elevated meaning during the pandemic. Its hearth-like ability to form a space where people can gather around and hear a diverse range of voices has once again excelled when it is most needed. Spending a lot of time inside, we look for connections to the outside, and Liveline provides.
Duffy has steered many excellent conversations throughout, be they on racism, education equality, the human cost of the pandemic, and everything in between. The lockdown initially made us appreciate the so-called simple things, but it also allows us to consider what is “simple” as actually complex. Duffy is the most empathic presenter at RTÉ, with the kind of authenticity, sophistication and intuition that validates public service broadcasting as almost beyond an essential service.
While the Late Late Show offers a societal spotlight, Liveline is the backstage. It is where the action happens
The Liveline-hosted brouhaha around Normal People, already a classic moment in Irish broadcasting, was an excellent piece of radio theatre. These “scandals” used to be serious, of course. The sense that Duffy was holding his head in his hands while callers complained about sex scenes on television was really about tracing the shadows of a relic of Irish discourse. The jubilant audience reaction latched on to the nostalgia of an Irish moral panic. Not so long ago, the scales would have tipped in favour of repressed conservatism. But Duffy managed to do that rare thing in modern Ireland, holding up what are now minority fundamentalist points of view and questioning their logic and authority without goading.
People talk about The Late Late Show as being a mirror of Irish society, and Ryan Tubridy has done what is probably the best broadcasting of his career during the pandemic. But really, while the Late Late Show offers something of a societal spotlight, Liveline is the backstage. It is where the action happens, where fears, tragedies, encounters, love, humour, conflict and hope play out.
Convalescence
There has been a lot of time in lockdown to sit with our thoughts. Something I’ve noticed about writers over the years – both in conducting and reading interviews with them – is that many seem to have a curious thing in common: a period of convalescence in their youth. Of course, illness is not rare, but I’ve often wondered what the impact of being alone with one’s thoughts for a prolonged period of time at a formative stage is, and how that fuels reflection and imagination.
We have gone through a remarkable period of societal convalescence. What will this do to how we think? It is surely no coincidence that such a lengthy period of isolation has given rise to national and global conversations about the state of our societies and the historical injustices that underpin them. Thinking is happening. The big issues and big ideas are being discussed in American and British media again, for example. As a result, the predicted civil unrest stage of the pandemic is coming to pass.
Retiring from RTÉ at 65 should be a choice. Nobody should be forced to leave or forced to stay
In Ireland, because reflecting and thinking deeply about issues of equality and having conversations about them has been such a major element of our social revolution in recent years, there is less conflict now. We know how to talk, and we definitely know how to talk to Joe. Teasing out issues, having calm conversations, and centring on the human experience is vital. The more we listen to one another, the more we understand, the more we can find common ground, the more we can progress together. Within this process, Duffy is the empathic front-of-house host. In the global media landscape, where talk radio often means pitched battles and spoofing controversialists, Liveline remains an incredibly grounded and smart programme.
Chilling reality
But there is also the chilling reality that Duffy is approaching 65, an age when RTÉ presenters usually retire. Sean O’Rourke has gone, and Mary Kennedy too. “I’m sad to be leaving,” Kennedy told the Irish Mirror last year. “I do think it’s ridiculous to be saying to people just because they’re 65 that that’s the end of it.” Earlier this year, RTÉ paid out €100,000 in compensation to the producer Anne Roper when she was essentially forced to retire from RTÉ at 65. One of Roper’s last projects for RTÉ was the excellent documentary No Country for Women.
Retiring from RTÉ at 65 should be a choice. Nobody should be forced to leave or forced to stay. Media benefits hugely from experienced voices (and 65 in contemporary terms is young, let’s face it.) Broadcasting in particular is a craft that takes years and years to hone. It is a sedimentary process. The layers need to form, and they can only do so with time. The idea of removing people from media because they have hit an arbitrary age denies the public experienced perspectives, which in an age of reaction and misinformation is crucial.
Radio is the most intimate form of media. It is a relationship, an exchange rooted in listening and empathy. There are plenty of frontline heroes during lockdown. Granted, most of them aren’t paid as well as Duffy, but he’s still one of them.
Now, wash your hands, wash your hands, wash your hands.