Noel Dempsey struck a lively note when he discussed the Leaving Cert and "matters arising" with the president of the Institute of Guidance Counsellors, Brian Mooney, on Morning Ireland the other day, writes Dick Walsh.
Their discussion went far beyond the usual run through the results with minister and counsellor simply slotting candidates into positions for which their points seemed to qualify them.
Nor did they stick to the system's successes. They spoke of those who'd been failed by the system: students who were in but not of it; who might have spent hours in classrooms without learning anything or in examination halls without putting pen to paper. Students who'd given up for lack of interest.
They agreed about the special difficulties faced by some who were forced to take part-time jobs or who had other, more serious distractions, the consequences of which would be with them for life.
It was Dempsey who echoed the powerful Education for Life and said that problems often started earlier, at primary level, and with deprivation.
Of course, critics of the system point to its failures, especially when prompted by surveys indicating unexpected levels of illiteracy in a population whose mastery of English was taken for granted.
But surveys and criticism invariably provoke indignant counterattacks, not least because our use of English has become a feature of our appeal to foreign investors.
Critics who share John Lonergan's view that likely prisoners are marked down from childhood are accused of romantic nonsense. Lonergan's experience as governor of Mountjoy Jail, like Peter McVerry's work on the streets, is liable to be ignored.
Now, here is a Minister for Education, no more than a few months in office, who not only points to the connection between educational difficulties and social or economic problems but who speaks of ending disadvantage as a priority.
He even goes so far as to appeal to teachers, counsellors and other professionals to join him in a campaign against it.
Mind you, this part of his commentary on the exam results is given less publicity than a reference which led correspondents to believe that an increase in fees was on the way: not just news, but bad news for the middle classes; it wins headlines.
It would be easy to add the cynical comment that any minister proposing a campaign against disadvantage in this State might first look for the reactions of his colleagues in cabinet. Dempsey, after all, shares a table - and a purse - with the Aherns, the McCreevys and the Harneys.
He may also recall the salutary case of Micheál Martin who seemed to have been promised all he needed to get the health service working as if we were fully fledged members of the European Union, only to be publicly humiliated by McCreevy on that infamous outing to Ballymascanlon.
That was before the general election, when Fianna Fáil at least still pretended that its old supporters - working people, the poor, pensioners, those who depended on public services - had only to wait a little longer for payback time.
Now, as Liz McManus of Labour reminds the hapless Minister for Health, the election has come and gone. There is no payback time; not for the poor, the old, the sick; certainly not for those who suffer disability and are shabbily betrayed by cute hoors and glib suits.
The only people who are better off after the election are those who'd already benefited from a stream of tax reductions and so-called incentives which had begun to be delivered soon after the 1997 election and has not ceased since.
The wealthy were encouraged to speculate and to save, with guarantees underwritten by taxpayers. The rest of the population is warned by discredited financial authorities to have regard for the State's finances and advised to behave responsibly.
The leaders of Fianna Fáil had lied and lied and lied again about the State's finances during the election; and senior members of the Progressive Democrats had given accounts of affairs - including their own shoddy relationship with Fianna Fáil - which were misleading, to say the least.
Bertie Ahern refused to take any issue seriously, but neither he nor the once and future (FF-PD) coalition, was effectively challenged, with the odd honourable exception, by the Opposition or the media.
So Fianna Fáil managed to stay in power, but with a mandate that's far from clear. Dick Spring, in conversation with George Lee, reflects wryly on a country in which the political corruption of Fianna Fáil goes unpunished and the vigilantism of Sinn Féin is rewarded with extra votes.
He mildly suggests that Labour ought to do more to emphasise the differences between the FF-PD Coalition and its opponents. Labour and Fine Gael will have to do a hell of a lot more if they are not to suffer the fate of predecessors who promised much and sank without trace.
Ten years ago, in another extraordinary election, Spring himself was the hero when Labour inflicted its heaviest losses on Fianna Fáil. With the advantages of Spring's steely leadership and his forensic demolition of Charles Haughey's regime, Labour won its greatest popular vote and most substantial block of seats in the Dáil.
A new direction in politics seemed imminent. But Fine Gael refused to enter coalition if Labour insisted on partnership with Democratic Left, which it did.
Labour then not only agreed to enter coalition with Fianna Fáil; inexplicably, shortly afterwards it consented to the introduction of a tax amnesty.
To make matters more puzzling, there are some who still hold this decision against Labour. They say they vote for Fianna Fáil instead. Maybe it's the weather.