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Irish Times
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Former Arts Council director Maureen Kennelly: ‘The Minister saw the opportunity for a scalp. I was an easy target'
THE BOTCHED IT PROJECT 'None of us set out with the intention of this happening. It is deeply regrettable. There's been lots of indignation and outrage about this, but I wouldn't want that to obscure the fact that the arts sector is populated with people – and the Arts Council as well – who are highly dedicated, very responsible and committed to delivering value for money for the public.' This is the view of Maureen Kennelly , who left her role as director of the Arts Council this month, and is speaking about the organisation's disastrous IT project, which ended with a multimillion-euro write-off and no software system to show for it. The idea was to bring together five existing systems, including those dealing with grants. The original budget for the project was €2.97 million, for delivery in 2021. That rose to €6.5 million by the time the plug was pulled, in June 2024. The net loss was €5.3 million. The Department of Culture, which oversees the council, has acknowledged its mistakes since details of the fiasco emerged in February, but the repercussions are being felt mainly at the council, where Kennelly has been jettisoned after a single term. Patrick O'Donovan , who took over as Minister for Culture from Catherine Martin in January, vetoed a unanimous board decision to renew Kennelly's contract. READ MORE Entrance: Patrick O'Donovan became Minister for Culture in January. Photograph: Sam Boal/Collins 'From the outset of all this, in early February, the Minister's reaction to the write-off of spending on the IT system set the tone for wider media commentary and political response,' Kennelly says. 'The board of the Arts Council was fully satisfied with my role in the project and made the recommendation to the Minister to renew me for a further five-year term. 'They were confident that the Niamh Brennan review' – of the council's governance and culture, which O'Donovan commissioned in February and is expected this autumn – 'would accurately describe the development of the project and my role in it, trying to rescue it. It is important for me to say that I inherited this project. The project had started well before my time, and it was conceived and initiated on a very shaky foundation. 'I led the bid to rescue it to the point where it was ultimately decided by the board, in conjunction with me, to stop the project in favour of an option which would be cheaper in the long run' – an off-the-shelf rather than custom system. 'Unfortunately, the Minister decided not to wait for the outcome of the Niamh Brennan review. He judged me before those findings are available and against the clear advice of the Arts Council board. His actions have served to discredit the Arts Council and, in particular, my reputation. It is clear to me that he saw the opportunity for a scalp and I was a very easy target.' The IT project had 'troubled origins', she says, because 'the senior expertise simply was never there to deliver it, and the oversight from the department and the OGCIO' – Office of the Government Chief Information Officer – 'was never in place'. 'This was one outlying project which failed, there's no doubt. But it absolutely should not overshadow all the work the Arts Council does. And the Arts Council is by no means alone in enduring difficulties with such a project.' Kennelly chose to remain at the organisation until the conclusion of two Oireachtas committee hearings into the debacle – 'I thought it was very important for the Arts Council to be accountable' – and left two days later, on Friday, June 13th. One of the hearings was of the joint Oireachtas Committee on Arts, Media, Communications, Culture and Sport, where the Sinn Féin TD Joanna Byrne described Kennelly as having been 'thrown under the bus by the Minister'. THE BACKGROUND In 2018-19, with the council's core computer system on its last legs, the organisation's previous director initiated a huge 'business transformation project' with the approval of the Department of Culture. The IT project was complex, seeking to merge grant-management and financial systems, among others. As Ireland's national Government agency for funding, developing and promoting the arts, it has a large brief and hundreds of clients, from big organisations to individual artists. It was clear at the committee hearings that neither the council nor the department had the senior IT wherewithal to adequately manage or assess this, and relied on external contractors and project managers, where frequent staff changes added to the problem. The project ran behind from early on; specifications were altered after the business case was made. Issues and delays over the system's analysis, design and development had knock-on effects for timelines and budget. Covid happened. As the IT project progressed, Kennelly sought departmental approval several times to hire a senior in-house information-technology specialist. The department said it could not approve recruiting at the proposed level of Civil Service principal officer (current salary range: €105,000-€130,000). Two senior IT professionals were eventually hired in April-May 2024, at the assistant-principal-higher grade (€88,500-€110,500). 'Unfortunately it came too late in the day. We had halted the project at that stage,' Kennelly says. With hindsight it would doubtless have been better to stop sooner. 'They were torturous decisions along the way,' Kennelly says. 'Because your desire is to protect the initial investment. The last thing you want is to be writing off significant funds. I know from my own very deep past in the arts sector how precious those monies are.' Blinder: Maureen Kennelly with Catherine Martin in 2022, when the TD was minister for culture. Photograph: Maxwell's She was appointed at the height of the pandemic, a period when the arts sector was battling for survival. The council, which Kennelly led with its chairman, Kevin Rafter, and the department, led by Catherine Martin, as minister, and Katherine Licken, its secretary general at the time, are regarded as having played a blinder, securing extra funding to keep the arts afloat through lockdown. Last year the council's programmes, partnerships and grant aid supported 588 organisations and 2,000 individuals, 140 festivals, 318 schools and 31 local authorities. After years of underfunding, the council's annual budget increased by 75 per cent between 2020 and 2024, to €140 million, effectively holding on to Covid-response increases. Its remit expanded, grant applications rose from 3,000 to 8,666, and the council funded more individuals and organisations. All that takes more work; the department says that its approved staffing level for the council increased from 47 in 2018 to 146 in 2024. Ticking away in the background was this complex, ballooning IT project. It has all been detailed in the report of the department's internal examination , in media reports and at the Oireachtas hearings: the Public Accounts Committee on May 29th and Culture Committee on June 11th. And in parallel with Brennan's report, the department is reviewing its own governance and oversight. As the project's expected delivery approached – a year late, in September 2022 – multiple bugs were discovered. This was substandard work, Kennelly told the Public Accounts Committee. 'The really serious nature of the situation was clear to me,' she says. The council went into dispute with contractors, and Kennelly restructured the project, changing internal personnel and stopping payments to contractors. 'With hindsight, I'm not sure any other CEO would have done any differently, to be honest.' She continued to 'really earnestly' appeal for sanction for a senior IT person. THE ACCOUNTING Before the Oireachtas committees, Kennelly and Feargal Ó Coigligh , Licken's successor as secretary general, sought to be 'completely transparent in relation to our failings'. A key factor that emerged at the Culture Committee is that although the council kept the department informed, the problems that developed appear not to have been escalated within the department, up to the secretary general or the minister, until late June 2024. 'It was surprising to me that it wasn't being conveyed upwards,' Kennelly says. 'We weren't keeping a single thing hidden from the department.' Asked in committee how much correspondence she had with the department about the project, she estimated 'about 60 pieces of written communication' – a number Ó Coigligh initially questioned at the Culture Committee but then accepted. At committee, he also acknowledged departmental failure. 'We should have stepped in much earlier when it became clear this project had run into serious difficulty.' Twenty-one external expert contractors have been paid; 75 per cent of the costs relate to four companies. The council has started legal proceedings against two of them (Codec, one of the contractors involved, strongly rejects claims its work was substandard) and is in pre-action with two others. The legal action has cost €60,000 so far, but the department has now frozen spending, pending recently sought feedback from the Attorney General's office. 'I hope the Minister's decision to pause spending on it will not squander a good opportunity to recover monies on behalf of the public,' Kennelly says. 'It wasn't, 'Let's just lash loads of money at the lawyers and get this fixed.' It was being constructed extremely carefully.' 'Furious': Patrick O'Donovan and Simon Harris. Photograph: Brian Lawless/PA Wire O'Donovan was 'desperately angry' when he was told about the €5.3 million write-off, and immediately took it to the Cabinet; there was, perhaps, the slight air of a new sheriff wanting to clean up Dodge. Coming on foot of other sagas involving wasted public money, fury erupted . Minister for Public Expenditure Jack Chambers decried 'a massive waste of money'. Tánaiste Simon Harris was 'furious'. (Then, this month, O'Donovan was admonished for bringing 'substantial expenditure' issues, including the Arts Council, to Cabinet 'under the arm', without telling colleagues in advance.) When the Minister declined to renew Kennelly's contract, the council instead proposed deferring a decision until after Brennan's report. The department's only offer was a 'final contract' of up to nine months or 'until a new director is appointed, whichever is sooner'. It was 'highly conditioned', Kennelly says. 'I think any self-respecting senior executive would have thought twice about it.' She declined. 'It's just disappointing that my only encounter with the Minister was about this, and that he appears to have rushed to such hasty judgment on this outlying project when there are so many other fantastic things being delivered by the Arts Council,' Kennelly says. THE MEDIA COVERAGE The Minister told the Sunday Independent last weekend, 'I made the decision that I think is in the best interest of the Arts Council and the taxpayer.' Kennelly is 'flabbergasted by this. He made the decision against the clear advice of the Arts Council, and I would like him to explain how this decision meets the best interest of the taxpayer and the Arts Council. 'I find his statement deeply insulting and damaging to my reputation. I hope that he'll have an opportunity to explain why he made that statement at the joint Oireachtas committee' when it convenes on July 2nd. She says the council was dismayed by details in an Irish Times report in April based on information released following a Freedom of Information request. It referred to a meeting that the new Minister called with Kennelly and Maura McGrath – Rafter's successor as chair – two months earlier. O'Donovan asked if they or their predecessors had discussed the business transformation project with the previous minister or secretary general, 'to which both replied 'No'', according to minutes the department supplied. But Kennelly's own note of her full reply is, 'No, but I kept the principal officer, my designated line of contact, informed right throughout the project.' 'I was flabbergasted,' Kennelly says. 'It was an extremely selective record of the meeting. The department should never have sent minutes to The Irish Times without checking them with us first. It was an extremely unfair reflection of the whole situation.' She adds, 'It appears they may have been put out there to justify the Minister's actions.' Culture Committee: Feargal Ó Coigligh answers questions on June 11th. Photograph: Oireachtas TV Several members of the Culture Committee, including Malcolm Byrne of Fianna Fáil, repeatedly asked the secretary general whether he advised the Minister about Kennelly's contract. Ó Coigligh repeated, several times, that it was a ministerial decision, effectively refusing to answer the question. THE LESSONS 'It's a huge regret of mine' that the IT project wasn't delivered, Kennelly says, 'and that the circumstances of my contract mean I'm not there to see a new system through. I hope and I trust good decisions will be made in the future.' The lessons to be learned include ensuring appropriate internal expertise is in place, alongside departmental and OGCIO oversight. 'The Arts Council is set up to develop the arts and to support artists and organisations. It's not set up as an IT specialist ... The risks of the project weren't properly assessed from the start.' If they had been, someone would perhaps have said, 'This is a project that's doomed to fail ... You were absolutely not set up to take this on.' At the Culture Committee hearing Joanna Byrne said, 'I am of the view that there was full transparency at every stage, from 2021 right up to 2024, on the part of the Arts Council. Yet it is okay for the department to state that it failed but that nobody within it is to blame ... Thousands of artists in this country are not getting the service they desire and deserve because of the failures in the department. I do not think it cuts the mustard to state that the department failed but that nobody was held accountable.' Kennelly says now, 'It seems probable to me that someone was briefing against the Arts Council and against me, and I find that abhorrent.' Is she bitter about all that has happened? 'No. I'm disappointed. It's been a very tumultuous time. I loved the role, and have huge regard for the people in the Arts Council, and equally huge regard for people in the sector. The Arts Council's an enormously important part of Irish life. It has to be protected, and funding for the arts has to be protected. That's absolutely critical.'
Irish Times
24-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
How Ireland's landmark €325-a-week arts scheme changed my life – I've never taken it for granted
In August 2022, after two years of pandemic shutdowns, the arts sector in Ireland was on its knees. It hadn't been doing too well before Covid-19 , but in the face of a global virus, it all but evaporated. Government restrictions forced cinemas, theatres, performance venues, galleries and any arts-related spaces to shut down. Tens of thousands of people lost their jobs , myself included. In an already struggling sector, it was the death knell for the careers of many artists and arts workers. After tireless work by the National Campaign for the Arts and Theatre Forum, former minister for arts Catherine Martin announced the introduction of a Basic Income for the Arts (BIA) scheme. This was to be a three-year research project, funded by the EU, funnelled through the Irish government. It would cost between €150,000-€200,000. Out of 8,000 eligible applicants, 2,000 were selected in an anonymised and randomised process. I was one of those 2,000 people. The BIA was an intervention to try to save a sinking ship. The severe impact of the pandemic on artists and arts workers was preceded by years of financial cuts and dwindling budgets. The sector had suffered massive cuts during the 2008 recession, and funding never made its way back up to pre-recession levels. In short, being an artist in Ireland has meant living precariously, frequently working for below minimum wage, and often working for free. Let's take a deep breath together and move in time to the fateful moment that was 2020. It's impossible for me to see this number without feeling a shudder down my spine. And yet, before it became that unforgettable year in history, for me it was one of great hope and excitement. 2020 was going to be my year. I had worked very hard for more than 20 years to build the momentum I was finally reaping. After decades of failures, successes, more failures, rejections, heartaches, near misses and almost- theres, I was staring down the barrel of a good year. No, a great year. Following a critically acclaimed, sold-out run in 2019, a play I'd written, This Beautiful Village, was going back into the Abbey Theatre for production on the main stage for one month. After that, there would be a national tour. I got a publishing deal, I signed with a new agent at a big agency in London, and This Beautiful Village won Best New Play at the Irish Theatre Awards . This glorious moment had been a long time coming for me. And then, in a heartbeat, it all disappeared … poof … into thin air. READ MORE At the time, people were at pains to assure me that my show would come back once restrictions were lifted, that all would be righted. None of these people worked in the arts or entertainment. They did not understand that in this business, when you lose your slot, it's gone. As the pandemic raged on, the Abbey changed leadership, and I was not part of their new agenda. This is how it goes in showbiz. I spent a long, long time grieving this loss. And while I was not alone – many of my peers had also lost their work – it was an intensely lonely and solitary grief. I was the only person in my family who lost everything overnight. It was also an ambiguous loss. I couldn't point to something tangible and feel its absence, because it didn't happened. It was a 'supposed to be', sliding doors moment in my life. How can you miss something you never actually had? I sank into a deep depression. I felt broken. And to top it all off, I was sick. The week of the very first shutdown, I had surgery and was diagnosed with endometriosis. In addition to grief and loss, I was in constant, severe pain. My livelihood was gone, along with my identity, my sense of self. And I got completely and utterly lost in it all. I spent two years battling with my grief, and fighting for healthcare to treat my illness. I wasn't doing well with either. I'd heard rumours that a Basic Income for the Arts scheme was coming down the line but I wasn't going to hold my breath. When an official announcement arrived, and applications opened, I put my name forward, knowing full well that my chances were slim. A lot of arts sector workers were in a bad way, and I was by no means the worst. I was able to rent a home near my daughter's school, and was able to put food on the table. Not everybody had it that good. When I received word I'd been selected, a light went on inside me. The money would be a huge boost, of course, but also, I felt seen. I felt valued. As a writer, as an artist, that's not something you feel very often. Artists expend so much energy fighting for their worth to be adequately compensated that it's very easy to lose your sense of self-worth and belief. These are not flowery words, or luxury feelings, they are fundamental to the health and wellbeing of every human being. When someone shows you that they believe in you, as the BIA did for me, it shifts you on your axis. In a society that devalues artists, yet consumes art every single day, a sliver of belief can make a seismic shift in the person who creates that art. It turns out that €325 a week can not only help with groceries and doctors' bills, it also makes you feel like you're worth something. That the creativity you contribute to the world is, in fact, meaningful. [ 'Life changing' income scheme for artists means more spend time on work and fewer suffer from depression Opens in new window ] That first BIA payment I received came at a very dark time in my life. It was a ray of light, a beacon of hope that maybe, maybe , I'd be able to keep writing. Qualified to do exactly zero else, the only path for me was forward. There was guilt, of course. Selection had been randomised but, as I've said, there had been 8,000 applications. Only 2,000 were selected. I carried a sense of shame, that there were others more deserving than me. And nobody, nobody , who was selected talked about it. It was an unspoken agreement. Don't ask, don't tell. That's how dire things have gotten for artists in Ireland. Every month, a payment would go straight into my bank account. In the three years I've been part of this scheme, I've never once taken that money for granted. In tough times, when doctors' bills skyrocketed, those payments took the edge off a sharp knife. They gave me breathing space to try to navigate writing while sick and in pain during a pandemic. Even as the dreaded restrictions began to lift, and we put distance between ourselves and the darkest days of the pandemic, that €325 continued to help with medical bills. It bought me time and space to process total career loss, chronic illness and allowed me to wedge the door open to keep writing, in whatever way I could. Every six months, there was a survey. It asked questions about my life demographics, things you would expect to answer: age, living situation, employment status, a lot of standard queries about where I was at. What I did not expect were the questions about my mental health and wellbeing. In a gentle, respectful way, it made me reflect on how I was really doing. There were the questions about care and household responsibilities. My answers to those blew my mind. It was galling to realise how much time I was spending on running a household and it was news to me to discover that with the hours I was putting in, I was, in fact, a stay-at-home mother. The purpose of the survey was to gather information, but what it did was wake me up to the domestic inequity in my household, and take a good hard look at how I was spending my time. 'How much time did you spend on leisure activities this month?' On at least three of the surveys, my answer was zero. Had it not been for this research element of the project, I'm not sure I would have ever realised this. Writing another zero next to a question about how much money I'd made from my specific art form (playwriting) forced me to have some very difficult conversations with myself. Most artists in Ireland cannot make a living from making art alone. They have to subsidise their income with jobs in other sectors, or if they're lucky, in an arts-related role. In 2024, an estimated 6.6 million tourists visited our island. They didn't all come for the Guinness. And they certainly didn't come for the weather. Our scenery is gorgeous, yes, even in the rain, but what really draws people to Ireland is our culture. Our music, our writers, our art, our theatre, our festivals, these are what make Ireland such a popular place to visit. And when they do, they spend money. Lots of it. So why are the folks that make that culture living on the breadline? The economics of culture are simple: if you build it, they will come. In their droves. They'll spend money in pubs, hotels, galleries, theatres, shops, landmarks and museums. They'll buy books and woolly hats and green hoodies and shillelaghs and Claddagh rings and records and brown bread. They'll splash the cash to immerse themselves in the full experience of the immense culture of Ireland. But culture doesn't build itself. It requires time, talent and dedication. And the people who make that culture can't do it if they can't make the rent, or they can't afford to take their sick kid to the doctor, or they can't afford a space or studio. The poetry that politicians love to quote to humanise themselves doesn't magic up out of nowhere. The TV shows you can't stop binge-watching don't make themselves. The books you read were not written by an AI bot. Someone, an artist, had to sit down at a desk, likely for years, and grind that sucker out. For a pittance. The music you love to listen to started in an artist's head and made its way out on to an instrument. That instrument costs money. The recording equipment and studio space cost more. Like it or not, art needs money, because the people who make it are human beings who need the same things as you: shelter, food and water, yes. But they also need to be valued enough to invest in. [ The Irish Times view on basic income for artists: keep it going Opens in new window ] The Basic Income for the Arts scheme was due to end in August but it has been extended until February 2026. Minister for Culture, Communications and Sport, Patrick O'Donovan TD, plans to bring proposals for a 'successor scheme' to Cabinet as part of Budget 2026. Economically, the return on a BIA scheme will pay huge dividends in the form of more art, which will grow the tourism industry which will grow the hospitality, service, and retail industries. As an investment, it's a no brainer. And those are pretty thin on the ground these days. Lisa Tierney-Keogh is a playwright and writer
Irish Times
21-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
How €325 a month changed my life – I've never taken it for granted
In August 2022, after two years of pandemic shutdowns, the arts sector in Ireland was on its knees. It hadn't been doing too well before Covid-19 , but in the face of a global virus, it all but evaporated. Government restrictions forced cinemas, theatres, performance venues, galleries and any arts-related spaces to shut down. Tens of thousands of people lost their jobs , myself included. In an already struggling sector, it was the death knell for the careers of many artists and arts workers. After tireless work by the National Campaign for the Arts and Theatre Forum, former minister for arts Catherine Martin announced the introduction of a Basic Income for the Arts (BIA) scheme. This was to be a three-year research project, funded by the EU, funnelled through the Irish government. It would cost between €150,000-€200,000. Out of 8,000 eligible applicants, 2,000 were selected in an anonymised and randomised process. I was one of those 2,000 people. The BIA was an intervention to try to save a sinking ship. The severe impact of the pandemic on artists and arts workers was preceded by years of financial cuts and dwindling budgets. The sector had suffered massive cuts during the 2008 recession, and funding never made its way back up to pre-recession levels. In short, being an artist in Ireland has meant living precariously, frequently working for below minimum wage, and often working for free. Let's take a deep breath together and move in time to the fateful moment that was 2020. It's impossible for me to see this number without feeling a shudder down my spine. And yet, before it became that unforgettable year in history, for me it was one of great hope and excitement. 2020 was going to be my year. I had worked very hard for more than 20 years to build the momentum I was finally reaping. After decades of failures, successes, more failures, rejections, heartaches, near misses and almost- theres, I was staring down the barrel of a good year. No, a great year. Following a critically acclaimed, sold-out run in 2019, a play I'd written, This Beautiful Village, was going back into the Abbey Theatre for production on the main stage for one month. After that, there would be a national tour. I got a publishing deal, I signed with a new agent at a big agency in London, and This Beautiful Village won Best New Play at the Irish Theatre Awards . This glorious moment had been a long time coming for me. And then, in a heartbeat, it all disappeared … poof … into thin air. READ MORE At the time, people were at pains to assure me that my show would come back once restrictions were lifted, that all would be righted. None of these people worked in the arts or entertainment. They did not understand that in this business, when you lose your slot, it's gone. As the pandemic raged on, the Abbey changed leadership, and I was not part of their new agenda. This is how it goes in showbiz. I spent a long, long time grieving this loss. And while I was not alone – many of my peers had also lost their work – it was an intensely lonely and solitary grief. I was the only person in my family who lost everything overnight. It was also an ambiguous loss. I couldn't point to something tangible and feel its absence, because it didn't happened. It was a 'supposed to be', sliding doors moment in my life. How can you miss something you never actually had? I sank into a deep depression. I felt broken. And to top it all off, I was sick. The week of the very first shutdown, I had surgery and was diagnosed with endometriosis. In addition to grief and loss, I was in constant, severe pain. My livelihood was gone, along with my identity, my sense of self. And I got completely and utterly lost in it all. I spent two years battling with my grief, and fighting for healthcare to treat my illness. I wasn't doing well with either. I'd heard rumours that a Basic Income for the Arts scheme was coming down the line but I wasn't going to hold my breath. When an official announcement arrived, and applications opened, I put my name forward, knowing full well that my chances were slim. A lot of arts sector workers were in a bad way, and I was by no means the worst. I was able to rent a home near my daughter's school, and was able to put food on the table. Not everybody had it that good. When I received word I'd been selected, a light went on inside me. The money would be a huge boost, of course, but also, I felt seen. I felt valued. As a writer, as an artist, that's not something you feel very often. Artists expend so much energy fighting for their worth to be adequately compensated that it's very easy to lose your sense of self-worth and belief. These are not flowery words, or luxury feelings, they are fundamental to the health and wellbeing of every human being. When someone shows you that they believe in you, as the BIA did for me, it shifts you on your axis. In a society that devalues artists, yet consumes art every single day, a sliver of belief can make a seismic shift in the person who creates that art. It turns out that €325 a week can not only help with groceries and doctors' bills, it also makes you feel like you're worth something. That the creativity you contribute to the world is, in fact, meaningful. [ 'Life changing' income scheme for artists means more spend time on work and fewer suffer from depression Opens in new window ] That first BIA payment I received came at a very dark time in my life. It was a ray of light, a beacon of hope that maybe, maybe , I'd be able to keep writing. Qualified to do exactly zero else, the only path for me was forward. There was guilt, of course. Selection had been randomised but, as I've said, there had been 8,000 applications. Only 2,000 were selected. I carried a sense of shame, that there were others more deserving than me. And nobody, nobody , who was selected talked about it. It was an unspoken agreement. Don't ask, don't tell. That's how dire things have gotten for artists in Ireland. Every month, a payment would go straight into my bank account. In the three years I've been part of this scheme, I've never once taken that money for granted. In tough times, when doctors' bills skyrocketed, those payments took the edge off a sharp knife. They gave me breathing space to try to navigate writing while sick and in pain during a pandemic. Even as the dreaded restrictions began to lift, and we put distance between ourselves and the darkest days of the pandemic, that €325 continued to help with medical bills. It bought me time and space to process total career loss, chronic illness and allowed me to wedge the door open to keep writing, in whatever way I could. Every six months, there was a survey. It asked questions about my life demographics, things you would expect to answer: age, living situation, employment status, a lot of standard queries about where I was at. What I did not expect were the questions about my mental health and wellbeing. In a gentle, respectful way, it made me reflect on how I was really doing. There were the questions about care and household responsibilities. My answers to those blew my mind. It was galling to realise how much time I was spending on running a household and it was news to me to discover that with the hours I was putting in, I was, in fact, a stay-at-home mother. The purpose of the survey was to gather information, but what it did was wake me up to the domestic inequity in my household, and take a good hard look at how I was spending my time. 'How much time did you spend on leisure activities this month?' On at least three of the surveys, my answer was zero. Had it not been for this research element of the project, I'm not sure I would have ever realised this. Writing another zero next to a question about how much money I'd made from my specific art form (playwriting) forced me to have some very difficult conversations with myself. Most artists in Ireland cannot make a living from making art alone. They have to subsidise their income with jobs in other sectors, or if they're lucky, in an arts-related role. In 2024, an estimated 6.6 million tourists visited our island. They didn't all come for the Guinness. And they certainly didn't come for the weather. Our scenery is gorgeous, yes, even in the rain, but what really draws people to Ireland is our culture. Our music, our writers, our art, our theatre, our festivals, these are what make Ireland such a popular place to visit. And when they do, they spend money. Lots of it. So why are the folks that make that culture living on the breadline? The economics of culture are simple: if you build it, they will come. In their droves. They'll spend money in pubs, hotels, galleries, theatres, shops, landmarks and museums. They'll buy books and woolly hats and green hoodies and shillelaghs and Claddagh rings and records and brown bread. They'll splash the cash to immerse themselves in the full experience of the immense culture of Ireland. But culture doesn't build itself. It requires time, talent and dedication. And the people who make that culture can't do it if they can't make the rent, or they can't afford to take their sick kid to the doctor, or they can't afford a space or studio. The poetry that politicians love to quote to humanise themselves doesn't magic up out of nowhere. The TV shows you can't stop binge-watching don't make themselves. The books you read were not written by an AI bot. Someone, an artist, had to sit down at a desk, likely for years, and grind that sucker out. For a pittance. The music you love to listen to started in an artist's head and made its way out on to an instrument. That instrument costs money. The recording equipment and studio space cost more. Like it or not, art needs money, because the people who make it are human beings who need the same things as you: shelter, food and water, yes. But they also need to be valued enough to invest in. [ The Irish Times view on basic income for artists: keep it going Opens in new window ] The Basic Income for the Arts scheme was due to end in August but it has been extended until February 2026. Minister for Culture, Communications and Sport, Patrick O'Donovan TD, plans to bring proposals for a 'successor scheme' to Cabinet as part of Budget 2026. Economically, the return on a BIA scheme will pay huge dividends in the form of more art, which will grow the tourism industry which will grow the hospitality, service, and retail industries. As an investment, it's a no brainer. And those are pretty thin on the ground these days. Lisa Tierney-Keogh is a playwright and writer
Irish Times
20-06-2025
- Politics
- Irish Times
Patrick O'Donovan admonished for bringing ‘substantial' issues to Cabinet without telling colleagues
Minister for Culture Patrick O'Donovan was admonished by Department of Public Expenditure officials for bringing 'substantial expenditure' issues such as the failed Arts Council IT project to Cabinet without sharing details with colleagues in advance. A senior official in Minister for Public Expenditure Jack Chambers's department complained that, under Government procedures, such important policy issues should be flagged and seen 'well before' these are considered by Ministers. Marianne Cassidy, an assistant secretary at the department, said this was the second time Mr O'Donovan brought a major item to Cabinet 'under the arm', meaning it was not shared in advance with other colleagues. The abandoned project, which led to more than €5.3 million being written off by the State , first came to light in February when Mr O'Donovan brought a memo on the matter to Cabinet. He was only weeks into his new role as a senior minister, and it soon emerged that his predecessor, Catherine Martin , was aware of the matter since summer last year. READ MORE The Department of Public Expenditure became aware of Mr O'Donovan's intention to bring the issue to Cabinet five days before this occurred. On Friday, February 7th, Ms Cassidy wrote to the Department of Culture to say her team understood Mr O'Donovan's memo 'will bring serious issues to the attention of Government'. She said the Department of Public Expenditure still had not seen the memo or been made aware of its detail, despite it appearing that these issues had been under consideration by the Department of Culture 'for a while'. 'As a result, it will not be possible to consider them and advise our Minister in relation to them,' said the letter, released under Freedom of Information laws. The letter noted Mr O'Donovan's proposal to spend €10 million bringing an NFL American football game to Croke Park in September had also gone to Cabinet that same week 'under the arm'. It said this practice 'makes it very difficult for this department, and indeed for Government generally, to thoroughly and properly consider issues and their implications, particularly regarding substantial expenditure implications and serious governance issues'. 'This Department should be allowed time, in compliance with government procedures, to properly scrutinise important policy issues ... well before they are table [sic] for consideration by Government,' it said. The Office of the Government Chief Information Officer at the Department of Public Expenditure had been liaising with the Arts Council throughout the project. At one point, this office had raised concerns that a key person involved in the project seemed to have 'little to no relevant expertise in this particular area'. In a statement, Mr O'Donovan's department said in the case of the NFL and the Arts Council issues 'there were time pressures involved which required the issues to be brought to Government at short notice'. Codec, the international IT company, has confirmed to The Irish Times it is one of four contractors now facing legal action initiated by the Arts Council over the botched project , which led to €6.75 million being spent on a new grant processing system that never materialised. The firm has strongly rejected an Arts Council briefing paper, shared under Freedom of Information laws, that alleged Codec did 'substandard' work on the project and was 'difficult' to engage with. Codec, one of the main contractors, has defended its work on the project. It said it 'fully delivered' on the scope and deliverables and built a system that was 'high quality, fully functioning according to spec'. 'Codec denies that it has any liability to the Arts Council for any alleged losses which the Arts Council claims it may have suffered,' the company said. It said it has received a notice of intent from the Arts Council to commence arbitration and has confirmed its intention to participate. 'Despite several requests, the Arts Council has been unwilling to provide Codec with the report prepared by an auditor examining the project on its behalf,' it also said. An Arts Council spokeswoman said it has 'commenced proceedings against two companies and we are in pre-action stage with two further companies'.
Yahoo
08-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Artists who got almost $1,500 a month under a basic income pilot say their work improved
Ireland's basic income pilot program for the arts ends in August. For three years, 2,000 artists and creative arts workers received about $370 a week. Recipients said the stipend overall improved their daily lives. For about 2,000 artists and creative arts workers in Ireland, a weekly stipend provided through a basic income program has been a lifeline for years. Now, it's almost over. The pilot program began in 2022 under Catherine Martin, Ireland's former minister for tourism and culture. Martin allocated about $28 million to the arts sector following the COVID-19 pandemic. Participants were randomly chosen and given an unconditional stipend of €325, or about $370, weekly for three years. During that time, participants met periodically via Zoom to discuss how the additional income had affected their livelihoods, careers, and ability to meet basic needs. The final session was held this month before the program's conclusion in August. Artists and cultural workers who attended the session grappled with what their lives would look like after August, but they hoped government officials would extend the program. "We need no further pilots. People need a UBI now to face and deal with the many social, economic, and ecological crises of our world," Reinhard Huss, the organizer of UBI Lab Leeds, which sponsored the event alongside Basic Income Ireland, UBI Lab Arts, and UBI Lab Network, told Business Insider. New developments in AI are reshaping the job market, replacing some entry-level positions. Tech industry leaders like Elon Musk and OpenAI CEO Sam Altman have said implementing a universal basic income will be essential in the near future when AI supplants jobs in most industries. A universal basic income offers an entire population recurring, unconditional payments regardless of an individual's socioeconomic status. Ireland's program, like many others in the United States, is a guaranteed basic income, which targets certain segments of the population for a set period of time. Jenny Dagg, a sociologist lecturing at Ireland's Maynooth University, authored a new report that provides insights into participants' reactions to the program. She gathered data from over 50 of the 2,000 recipients. Although the report outlined nearly a dozen key impacts reported by program recipients, Dagg highlighted five major takeaways during the Zoom session. Dagg said that recipients who received money from the program reported more stability and "significantly reduced" financial stress. It relieved their anxiety about fulfilling their basic needs. Participating in the pilot program also allowed artists to re-prioritize how they spend their time and what they choose to focus on. "The opportunity to focus more on their specific creative interests opened new possibilities and career trajectories," the report said. Artists said the added income allowed them to spend more time "researching, experimenting, taking risks, and failing," which has improved the quality of their work. Artists, the report said, also felt more confident in themselves and their work during the program. "Many recipients talk of feeling empowered, of being in control of the choices within their lives, and envisioning a viable career path longer-term," the report said. Recipients even reported better mental health, which led to improved sleep quality and lowered stress levels. With the end of the program fast approaching, recipients of the weekly payment are reckoning with what how their lives might change. "Across art forms, recipients report concerns about financial stability and sustaining the momentum of their careers when, or if, the basic income scheme ends," Dagg's report said. This month, Basic Income Ireland called on the government to immediately implement a universal and unconditional basic income for the country. A spokesperson for the UBI Lab Network said the pilot program's success shows that basic income is a viable option. The campaign group shared a proposal for introducing a universal basic income to Ireland. "As the pilot shows, basic income works and people need a UBI now to face and deal with the many social, economic, and ecological crises of our world. The Network will continue to help demonstrate basic income within communities and show how it is a sustainable policy," the statement said. Patrick O'Donovan, Ireland's minister for arts and culture, said he would evaluate the data collected throughout the pilot program and create proposals for the government regarding the next steps. "I am heartened by the responses of the Basic Income recipients in this paper," O'Donovan said in the May report. "This research will add to the evaluation being conducted by my department, which to date clearly shows that the Basic Income Pilot has been an effective support for the artists in receipt of it." Read the original article on Business Insider
