The controversy surrounding Green Party TD Ciarán Cuffe's shares has marked an interesting passage for the Greens, the political equivalent of losing one's virginity, writes Mark Hennessy.
Optimistically, they could look at the crisis as part of the learning curve for the day when the party might one day enjoy Government in a new, bigger version of the Rainbow.
More realistically, however, they could accept that their past super-clean image will now be harder to sell, and, instead, fight more on issues than on displays of morality at high altitudes.
Politicians of all hues are still shaking their heads in disbelief at the Dún Laoghaire TD's naivety. Few, though, can work up a lather of outrage, even if they will enjoy turning the knife.
Inherited from his mother, a relation by marriage of the Kennedys, the $1.3 million worth of stock includes $70,000 worth of oil shares, including Exxon, which is the current bête noire of environmentalists.
Left dazed, the Greens first argued, or at least desperately hoped, that he had not had any close involvement with the portfolio. Alas for him, that was quickly shown not to be the case.
In fact, he twice updated his entry in the Dáil's Registry of Members' Interests, copiously detailing his stake in Exxon, Chevron, Texaco and others, while he also moved stockbrokers.
Clearly the last year has been turbulent for Cuffe, with a second child, a house move and election to the Dáil. Many will sympathise with his argument that he simply got swamped.
However, the contradiction between owning oil shares and representing the Greens never struck him. It is hard to know whether one should feel pity or incredulity.
Share scandals, if this can be called such, are meant to be matters for others. Faced with such an interesting novelty, the media dined happily - some fairly, some not so - at the Greens' expense. Cuffe's conduct matters.
It certainly matters in a world where RTÉ's Joe Duffy can present one as a knave, or a sham, for the benefit of his Liveline listeners. May the Lord save us from journalism masquerading as judge, jury and executioner in publicly organised hangings. If not, perhaps, the "off" switch will.
Stunned by Cuffe's lack of cop-on, party figures, such as chairman John Gormley, tried to protect him, as they fretted about the Greens' brand name.
An architect with a bent for planning issues, Cuffe has been a worthwhile Dáil contributor, but his actions clearly conflict with the party's seven founding principles.
The tenets are quite clear. Humans should not be "ecologically disruptive", while the conservation of natural resources is vital for the earth's future.
They could hardly be clearer, and hardly more in conflict with Exxon's business.
In the past, fickle Dún Laoghaire voters have not been the most forgiving. The shares will annoy some, his wealth others. Other voters will be irked because one of their TDs looks foolish.
And Cuffe has damaged his own hopes of political office. With a good supporting wind, he could, perhaps, have fancied himself as a Minister of State in a Rainbow-style government.
Today, he would have trouble holding his seat. But he has four years. Unfortunately, his own need to survive will be better served tending to his constituents' bread-and-butter needs, rather than worrying about global issues inside an empty Dáil chamber.
The wound caused by the affair will remain raw for the Greens for some time. It is an organisation rich in sharp passions, despite its cuddly public image.
Cuffe is not the only politician to have received some hard political instruction this week. So too has the Progressive Democrat Minister for Justice, Michael McDowell.
On Tuesday night, McDowell directed Minister of State Ivor Callely to deal with a Dáil adjournment debate about the 2001 death of Adrian Moynihan outside a Cork city nightclub. Minutes later, he was spotted by John Gormley in the Dáil bar.
Gormley quickly tipped off Fine Gael's Bernard Allen, who raised it in the House, which, by the way, is against long-accepted House rules.
The Cork North Central TD went into high dudgeon. The dead man's father was outside the Dáil on hunger strike. The Dáil and Mr Moynihan's family had been grievously insulted, etc. Humbled, McDowell, who had not known about the hunger strike, met Mr Moynihan senior the following morning and promised to get the Garda to review its investigation.
The family's upset is understandable. However, the Garda review is unlikely to relieve their sorrow, since the Director of Public Prosecution (DPP) has said twice he is not prosecuting in this case.
Fine Gael suggests that the Attorney General could approach the DPP to find out why he has made this decision. The reality is that the law is far from clear on the matter.
Instead, it says that the Attorney General may consult the DPP from time to time. Given the latter's much vaunted independence, politicians should be wary.
The Opposition believes McDowell's absence matters. It should.
But given the Dáil's ludicrous structure, worsened by Ceann Comhairle Dr Rory O'Hanlon's stultifying chairing, it does not. The phrase "adjournment debate" poorly reflects what happens.
An Opposition TD reads a five-minute script. A Minister, or more usually his junior, reads an equally prepared reply of similar duration.
Callely gave voice to the Minister's words, nothing more, nothing less.