Split decision was the right one as divorce floodgates never opened

There were about 50,000 people in broken marriages 25 years ago, and there are 100,000 divorced people a quarter of a century later, writes Fergus Finlay.

We never see ourselves as others see us, do we? There are those close to me who routinely describe me as a nerd, obsessed as I am with looking things up.

When I was younger I used to bring a dictionary to the dinner table, because we’re an argumentative lot in our family and I thought this was a useful way to settle arguments (everyone else thought it was annoying). Nowadays I’m inclined to whip out the Google in my pocket if anything needs to be settled quickly.

Notwithstanding that, and the dog’s abuse I have to put up with in my patient, long-suffering way, I hate to admit to nerdiness in any shape or form.

But every now and again the nerdiness breaks out in me. Especially when the publication of the Census rolls around. I love the Census. I love what it tells us about us. I love the little details – the change in population in the village where I live, the numbers of people who live in apartments rather than houses now – that sort of thing.

With each publication, the reporting of the Census gets better, and easier to access. It will take a while still for some of the more detailed breakdowns to emerge, but already they (the Central Statistics Office that is – it must be nerd heaven there) have produced a set of classy, easy-to-read reports that tell us an awful lot.

Of course, there’s one aspect of the Census that I’ve always been afraid of. Back in my political days, I used to get a knot in my stomach whenever I heard about an upcoming opinion poll. I could never rest until I got hold of it. Whether the news was good or bad, I always needed to know it first.

Well, for twenty years now I’ve been waiting for a Census to tell me that the floodgates have finally opened. These were the dreaded floodgates that featured in every argument and debate in a campaign that I was heavily involved in. Throughout the whole of 1995 I found myself repeatedly denying that the damned floodgates would open if we voted to change the Constitution and allow divorce to be legalised in Ireland.

As many of you will remember, the floodgate argument nearly won the day. Right at the end of that year, we voted extremely narrowly to pass the referendum. The David Quinns and Breda O’Briens of this world predicted throughout that the result would see us drowning in a sea of divorces. “Hello Divorce, Bye-Bye Daddy” was the catch-cry of those who feared the dreaded floodgates.

Well, whew! With each passing publication of a Census, I’ve had to hold my breath in case I finally had to admit they were right (which would of course mean I had to apologise, something the nerd in me hates to do in an argument).

But lo and behold, here’s what the latest Census says: “The number of divorced people in Ireland has increased from 87,770 in 2011 to 103,895 in 2016, an increase of 16,125 persons. This is less than the previous inter-censal increase of 28,236 persons.” Hardly, I think you’ll agree, a floodgate. Barely a puddle, if the truth were told. Sure, it’s gone up, but by nothing like the apocryphal numbers predicted with utter confidence back then.

And here’s one important thing to remember. When the debate about divorce in Ireland re-started in the early 1990s (the people decisively rejected the possibility of introducing divorce in 1986) the government of the day published a White Paper outlining the background and some of the possibilities. (Oddly enough the White Paper was published by Padraig Flynn, who was then Minister for Justice and had campaigned vigorously against divorce up to the moment he became Minister.)

It was widely believed at the time that there were 75,000 people in Ireland whose marriages had broken down. But in the White Paper, the government set out the most reliable figures available as follows: “The 1986 Census revealed a total of some 37,000 persons whose marriages have for one reason or another broken down and the most recent population estimate included in the 1991 Labour Force Survey suggested a figure of about 47,000”.

In short, and yes I know I can be accused of exaggeration by rounding the figures, there were about 50,000 people in broken marriages 25 years ago, and there are 100,000 divorced people a quarter of a century later. Some floodgates!

The divorce rate in Ireland, 21 years after its introduction, is still one of the lowest in the world. Yes, marriages still break down – but if you add the number of people separated to the number who are divorced, the rate of marital breakdown still shows up at around 10%.

And don’t forget that since the 2002 Census the number of people re-marrying has more than doubled. In good part, that was the reason we held the referendum in 1995 – to give men and women in irretrievably broken marriages a second chance.

What’s more – and what a pleasing figure this is, surely – for the first time in any Census we have been able to count the number of same-sex marriages. 4,226 people recorded themselves as having celebrated a same-sex marriage in this Census. That’s 4,226 people whose rights would have been denied without another referendum decision by the people.

It might be worth keeping an eye on that figure in future Censuses too, of course. The divorce referendum passed in November 1995. Exactly 20 years later, in November 2015, the first same-sex marriages were celebrated in Ireland.

So perhaps the floodgates did open after all. That same-sex referendum, you’ll recall, was going to drive the final nail into the institution of marriage in Ireland. John Waters told us so, and so did (of course) David Quinn and Breda O’Brien.

The Catholic Church was going to have to withdraw from officiating at marriage ceremonies here. Children were going to be raised without good parents, because after all, mothers and fathers matter.

There was even a new organisation set up to proclaim that profound fact. (They disappeared as soon as the referendum was over, presumably because mothers and fathers don’t matter anymore.) But what the 2016 Census tells us is this.

The institution of marriage is strong in Ireland. That doesn’t mean every marriage is happy – where in the world is that true? – but we believe in it still. Same sex people are adding to the strength of the institution, and so are people who choose to remarry.

More and more people are choosing different ways to get married – the choice of non-religious ceremonies is growing exponentially, for instance. (What the Census tells us about religion is as fascinating as what it tells us about marriage, but that’s a story for another day.)

Anyway, I’ve decided 20 years is long enough to hold my breath. It’s time for Breda O’Brien, David Quinn and the rest to admit they were completely wrong in their predictions. I know they will, because facts don’t lie. I just hope they do it before I descend finally into a grumpy and argumentative dotage.

That wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?