In reality, it was a giveway budget — a little taste for all

Pascal Donohoe is an inclusive kind of a guy. He wraps his arms around all and sundry in his pronouncements on governance. Hence in yesterday’s budget speech we heard more than once about “our country”, and “our people” and “our children”. It’s no doubt heartfelt but also works well as a political tool. We’re all in this together, you, me, the butcher, baker and candlestick maker. And there is something for everybody in the audience, writes Michael Clifford

In reality, in terms of finance, the country is made up of various sectors, interests and demographics who all have their own hierarchy of interests and needs. And with Budget 2019 Mr Donohue did his best to tip his cap in all directions.

He claimed it was “designed for what is right for the economy at each stage of the economic cycle”. In reality it was a giveway budget — not in the brash and splash manner of a Charlie McCreevy giveaway — but there was still a little taste for everybody there.

It wasn’t poverty-proofed, it certainly wasn’t climate-proofed, but it most definitely was politically-proofed.

There was an extra €750m for social housing, although the labelling of a “housing budget” was pushing it. The so-called squeezed-middle were handed an extra €50 a week.

When Mr Donohoe announced an extra €150m for the disability sector, junior minister Finian McGrath twice interjected with “hear, hear” just to let everybody know — or more likely to give the impression — this was down to his representation.

The tenor of all these measures was constant. Steady as she goes, here’s a little something for yourself to let you feel you are on board for the good times.

By and large, it was about spending rather than reducing taxes. The spending was largely modest in the name of prudence. And on the doorstep, the government TDs will be able to point to little gains here and there.

The notable aspects of the budget were the measures that went missing in action. Chief among these was the complete absence of a carbon tax. Just 24 hours before Mr Donohoe got to his feet, the latest missive from climate scientists about impending doom was delivered with screaming alarm bells.

The response from Mr Donohue was all but, “crisis, what crisis”.

There were no additional carbon taxes. The word from Leinster House was that this failure to make the most basic, meaningful contribution to the biggest challenge facing the planet was down to horse trading with the denizens of the Independent Alliance. If the Vat rate on the hospitality sector was to be increased by 4.5%, then the planet’s woes must be dispatched to the long finger. Or, as put by accountant Fergal O’Rourke on RTÉ radio, “the restaurateurs are now subsidising the truckers”.

On a political level, Mr Donohoe would have been cognisant that any gains in the pockets of the many would quickly be lost if carbon taxes were imposed. That was apparently far more important than finally acknowledging that there is a price to be paid for saving the planet.

The Environmental Pillar umbrella group’s Oisin Coughlin put it best: “The Government’s U-turn on the carbon tax is a giant two fingers to younger generations who will face climate chaos unless we act to drastically cut pollution. A two fingers to everyone under 35, a two fingers to the Paris Agreement and a two fingers to the hundreds of millions of people already living with the devastating impacts of climate change in African, Asia and Latin America.

A more mundane and less urgent issue in terms of the planet was the failure to address the domestic issue that dare not speak its name —third-level funding.The minister mentioned €1.4 billion for education but made no mention of the crisis in the third level sector and the refusal of the whole political system to address it.

“This is a caring and responsible budget for a modern Ireland,” he said.

For the first time in a decade we have balanced our books. We are more secure as a country and better able to care for people and families.

Not so, declared a succession of opposition politicians. First up were Fianna Fáil’s Michael McGrath and Barry Cowen. They stood on high indignation at the heartless and crass attempt by Fine Gael to be inclusive. They huffed and puffed, but had to duck for fear of a belt from the blowback.

Pearse Doherty, by contrast, gave good, old-fashioned anger. He made a valid point about “Amanda” - the teenager living in a hotel room whose story was recently highlighted on RTÉ. Mr Donohoe had mentioned that this was his third budget (the first was as Minister for Public Expenditure). Mr Doherty made the point that at the time of the minister’s first budget Amanda had no home, as was the case for his second budget and now remains the case for this third.

“There are tens of thousands of Amandas out there.” On the whole, Mr Doherty gave the best speech of the day simply because he touched all bases, made a case for all interests and felt all pain. Whether our country and our people would be better off with his plans is a moot point, but he certainly harked back to a time when Budget Day got the blood rising and the rhetoric flowing.