When election campaigns are suddenly changed, it is almost always because voters obtain new information, in an easy to digest way, that tells them something that perhaps they did not know before. This is why Simon Harris’s interaction with disability worker Charlotte Fallon – a clip that has now been viewed over a million times – is so damaging to the Taoiseach and his party.
First, there’s the unscripted nature of it: This is an ordinary human interaction, the kind that most of us have experienced and cope with regularly. The Taoiseach met an upset woman who wanted to talk to him. Here’s a chance then to judge his character in an environment that’s familiar to almost everyone.
Second, there’s what the two participants in the conversation represent: She is the everywoman. Without wishing to be disrespectful, she comes across as somebody who could not be more ordinary. A care worker. Probably on a middle income salary, and not at the higher end of that range. Doing her shopping for the weekend on a Friday Night, after a long week of work. Justifiably tired, and stressed, and maybe just looking to vent her frustration to the leader of her country. Which, it must be said, takes courage. It’s not an easy thing to do. We instinctively empathise with her because for most of us, the inclination would be to shake hands and move on.
And then there’s what he represents, fairly or unfairly: The politician who shows his face once every five years when he’s looking for your vote, and thinks a quick handshake will suffice. This was a chance for him to shake that image off, by listening to her and engaging.
Third, there’s his body language: Everything about the clip tells us he doesn’t want to be there, from the initial fact that she had to call him back to talk to her, to the side-eyed look at the camera to see if he was being filmed, to the hasty exit. He wasn’t only rude in how quickly he dismissed her – everything in his demeanour screams “I don’t want to talk to you”.
Fourth, this is all very easy to digest. The voter watching doesn’t need to read a manifesto or comprehend the Government’s financial estimates or understand the details of the Mecrosur trade deal. They can simply observe two people interacting, and form a judgment.
Fifth, and most importantly, it is new information. The voter learns something about Simon Harris here that contradicts his image. This is far from the smiling, empathetic father and husband we’ve all been told that he is. This is a regular heartless politician in a suit, who pretends to care but when push-comes-to-shove, really doesn’t.
The irony of ironies here is that Fine Gael has made itself exceedingly vulnerable to a moment like this by running the most policy-free, personality-heavy campaign of recent times. It’s been boring, and it has been boring by design. We weren’t supposed to learn anything new. We were supposed to think “ah things aren’t that bad, and Harris seems like a decent fellow” and decide not to rock the boat.
Now, the charitably minded amongst us might be tempted to make excuses for the Taoiseach. Nobody who hasn’t been involved in campaigns truly knows the levels of exhaustion that can set in – he’ll be doing 15 or 16 hour days regularly, travelling constantly, and perhaps hardest of all he has to be “always on”, because everybody he meets from the bus-driver to the journalist is a potential voter. He says he was tired at the end of a long day. I believe him, and I think you should, too.
It doesn’t matter, though. He doesn’t get a pass.
He doesn’t get a pass precisely because we live in a republic, not a monarchy, and Charlotte Fallon is just as entitled to air her views as he is. They are equals. He owes her the same respect and decency that is owed to him by the rest of us. He denied her that, which tells us that perhaps he doesn’t see his relationship with his fellow citizens quite as we might wish a leader to see it. She owed him no deference, but he did owe her respect and kindness.
He also doesn’t get a pass because this contradicts everything he’s ever told us about himself. Simon Harris would have us believe that he’s in politics purely because of disability. We have all, by now, heard the tale of how his brother’s autism diagnosis spurred him into the political arena at a young age to campaign for more supports for his family. And yet this interaction with Charlotte Fallon was a chance to speak to somebody who has the exact same passion that he purports to have. And he blew her off. If you don’t have questions about the sincerity of his own political origin story on foot of that, you’re not thinking straight.
There’s a tale Simon Harris tells us, with regularity: That he might have failed to fix scoliosis, when Minister for Health, but nobody should doubt how much he cares. That he might have overseen the Children’s Hospital disaster contract, but nobody should doubt his passion to put that right. That things might not be going well in disability services, but that he is restless for change and hungry to engage. Well here was a chance to show us how much he cared, and how much he wants to engage, and we all saw it.
So is this the real Simon Harris? Is the character flaw we glimpsed last night perhaps indicative or a wider attitude to these issues? Caring in front of the cameras, but callous when faced with real people?
I will not write here that this clip will upend the election, because I do not know that it will. But it certainly has the potential to do just that.
Millions of people have just learned something new about the Taoiseach. They can all see it. And it is the very opposite of flattering.