A fear of being consigned to history

RADIO REVIEW:FOR WATCHERS OF Montrose's most famous avian specimen, these have been worrying times. Once ubiquitous, Charlie Bird has become a lesser-spotted presence in recent years. Deprived of his natural habitat, the RTÉ newsroom, he has been forced to eke out an existence in a succession of hostile environments, from the fetid Amazon jungle and the Antarctic tundra to, most inhospitable of all, the boulevards of Washington DC. Now, however, Bird has been offered a sanctuary of sorts.

His new show,

Saturday with Charlie Bird

(RTÉ Radio 1), may not cast him as the breathless newshound of yore, but it at least places the veteran journalist in familiar territory, as he explores the pressing issues of modern Ireland and engages with people on the ground. At least that is the theory behind the audience-led programme, broadcast live from a different location each week. Judging by last Saturday’s show from Cork, however, this is not the vehicle to restore his fortunes.

It is not for want of relevant material. Bird looked to tackle the blight of poverty and homelessness, with guests drawn from charities around the city. The panellists provided some grim testimony about the scale of the problem: Brendan Dempsey of the Society of St Vincent de Paul said he realised what poverty was when he saw eight-year-olds getting excited at the sight of a bag of groceries.

Such revealing moments were too scarce, however. Flitting between his guests, Bird asked variations of the same question, namely how many people were suffering and how charities were dealing with them. The answers were depressing – things are getting worse, all agreed – but the uniformity of the responses, coupled with a lack of deeper analysis, had a numbing effect.

More surprising, given his news background, was Bird’s anodyne report from Cork Penny Dinners. The segment featured interviews with the charity’s volunteers but none with those people availing of the services, who were, after all, the ostensible focus of the programme. Bird did, however, discover the day’s menu. “Garlic bread and chips,” he murmured wistfully.

Like much of the worthy but dull discussion that followed, the item lacked the edge one might expect from such a charged topic.

Part of the show’s problem was the unwieldy audience format: Bird lacked the confident moderating skills of, say, Marian Finucane, whose show he guest-hosted this summer. He seemed so anxious to get on with his guests that he backed away from disagreement on even the most innocuous matter. At one point, when the show had inevitably moved on to celebrating Cork’s uniqueness, he tentatively suggested the city’s English Market was maybe a bit elitist, only to renege, almost apologetically, as soon as he was challenged. On this showing, Bird needs to be more of a hawk.

A strident approach could be heard on The History Show(RTÉ Radio 1, Sundays), where new presenter Diarmaid Ferriter sought to strike a topical note. A media-friendly UCD historian whose books and television series have dealt with big themes of contemporary resonance, such as sex and society, Ferriter recently replaced the previous host, Myles Dungan, apparently shifting the show's agenda in the process, to overtly pitch history as an essential element of Irish life.

Last week’s programme featured an interview with Minister for Education Ruairí Quinn on the possibility that history may no longer be compulsory in the Junior Certificate when the revised curriculum is introduced. But it was a muted encounter, not least because Quinn had yet to see the proposals for the new curriculum, never mind decide on them. (The Minister also pointed out that the subject was not compulsory in vocational or community colleges, which make up 40 per cent of secondary schools.)

In the absence of an inquisitorial grilling, the interview at times veered into policy discussion: interesting, but hardly enticing for the casual history buff. The show’s other topic, a discussion on how the Catholic Church came to control the bulk of Ireland’s schools, also had moments of interest, but overall seemed like a primer on the debate about increased secularisation in education.

Despite Ferriter’s media experience, it was a strangely arid show. Ironically, the most passionate defence of history’s importance came from Quinn, who said the subject was central in teaching literacy, communication and rationality. That said, he also felt a knowledge of history was vital for any political career, which probably counts as a negative.

Those seeking the guilty pleasures of history for its own sake were better served by Talking History(Newstalk, Sundays), in which host Patrick Geoghegan served up an esoteric potpourri ranging from the legacy of Cicero to a mass republican jailbreak during the Civil War. There was no overt attempt to pitch the contemporary relevance of such subjects. But the best items, such as the historian Thomas Whigham's account of the near-genocidal Triple Alliance war in 19th-century South America, were compelling, containing an inherent truth that spoke for itself.

Seeking out new challenges is admirable, but sometimes it’s wiser to stick to what one does best.

Radio moment of the week

Under fire over falling listenership figures, it is natural that Ryan Tubridy (Tubridy, 2FM, weekdays) should be interested in untapped audiences. But speaking to the author Miriam Devitt, who teaches sign language to babies, the host seemed to clutch at straws in his quest for listeners.

“Can I ask you a question, and it might sound smart, or certainly ignorant: can deaf people listen to this show?”

“No,” came the unsurprising answer.

Oh well, back to the drawing board.