Madam, - When my car was stolen recently in Cork city I was less surprised by the actual theft of my one-litre pride and joy than by how everybody had their own particular pet theory on what motivates Irish criminals.
I endured endless sermons on the demise of the traditional family and the detrimental effects of the "broken home". I listened patiently as the decline of that great moral barometer, the Catholic Church, was bemoaned and lamented. I enjoyed animated lectures on the magnificent therapeutic benefits of "a good hiding when they're good and young" and how the relinquishment of corporal punishment was the surrender of law and order.
More reasoned arguments seemed to centre mostly on the Exchequer. A failure to fully implement a punitive strategy due to a lack of funding. Not enough gardaí on the streets due to bad management of personnel and a lack of funding. Crippled social services, drug rehab, social and youth programmes - once again, due to a lack of funding. Each argument had an element of truth, countered by the line that throwing money at such problems will never solve them entirely because the root cause lies in a deeper sickness within our society.
As I sat in traffic on the Western Road a couple of days later in my battered and bruised Fiesta and listened to the same debate raging on the radio (which thankfully the young delinquents had left behind them), a thought occurred to me. Mulling over what motivates a youngster to break into a stranger's old banger and do his or her utmost to wreck it I was cast back to my own mildly delinquent adolescence and to what had motivated me to "act the pup" on occasion. I noted that misbehaving was invariably a group activity that was intended to push all boundaries and limitations and designed to test our ability to "get away with it" and impress all with our daring bravado. I realised that the perpetrators of this crime against me were most likely testing these same limits and attempting to set themselves out as true rebels, devil-may-care lawless bucks and a force to be truly reckoned with.
Getting away with it is the key. It proves your competence in audacious and daring circumstances and therein lies the glory. The thought then struck me that the notion of getting away with anything is highly valued in our society. We love a rebel in Ireland. I have no doubt that this stems from our colonial past and our admiration for the total disregard of what was then perceived as unjust law.
The trend is alive and well when you note the almost exclusively Irish phenomenon of disgraced politicians topping the next poll following their disgrace. Do we not idolise the one who "chances his arm", the one who risks it all and ultimately gets away with it? Do we not cheer in unison for the smart alec who asked the Garda for a printout from his laser gun after being caught speeding or the pub in Galway that flouted the smoking ban with such gleeful rebelliousness? Do we not chuckle at Dustin the Turkey as he hawks and spits in the face of convention with reckless abandon and rest assured that even our young children idolise an anarchist?
As I endured rush hour in the cultured capital of the Rebel County the simple irony was not lost on me and for a second I even admired my joy-riding foes and their contempt for a law that fails to bind them. - Yours, etc.,
JOHN McNAMARA, Connaught Avenue, Cork.