The reason you should take note is that the number of advertisements are dwindling. When this happens, it has the potential to weaken our democracy and to further diminish our standing in the international business community. This is not as far-fetched as it might sound.

Media outlets traditionally obtain the bulk of their income from advertising. The retail price, subscription or licence fee only goes a small way to covering expenses. When a sharp decline in advertising occurs, as it has over the past couple of years, media companies need to cut costs and, ultimately, staffing levels.

Many Irish newspapers and radio stations have announced voluntary redundancies for journalists and, in the last week, a dozen or so staff members from TV3 were laid off. Big deal, right? Lots of people are losing their jobs.In a healthy democracy, journalists should act as a check and balance on the legislative, executive and judiciary branches of government. In addition to reporting the events of the day, they have a duty to investigate potential wrongdoing by those in power – in business, government and society.

Good investigative journalists are moral watchdogs with a sensitive nose for corruption, graft, cronyism, abuse of influence and power and much more.

Even so, investigations take time and lots of money. Traditionally, newspapers broke many of the big stories and radio and TV stations followed up on them. Recently – as newspapers’ advertising revenue dried up – the appetite for expensive investigative series (and potential legal actions) has diminished.

Over the past few years, television programmes like Prime Time and special RTÉ news reports by Charlie Bird and George Lee have filled some of the void. These TV investigations are no longer a certainty now that the editorial independence of the national broadcaster has been called in to question.

RTÉ’s strange apology for running a news item on the satirical painting of King Brian (sorry, the Taoiseach) in the National Gallery raises a very big issue. If RTÉ caved in on a simple thing like a painting then what other news items, or investigations, will they axe?

Print, broadcast and online media face several other problems when trying to meet their watchdog brief. Redundancies and layoffs mean many of their senior staff will leave – taking their long memories and years of experience with them.

Journalism is now a freelance world. Staff journalists are the exception rather than the rule at many newspapers and radio stations. This is the biggest threat of all to an independent, effective media. The rise in freelance journalism directly impacts on investigative reports. The Huffington Post, America’s famous blog turned internet newspaper, is so concerned about it that it launched an investigative report fund on Monday. The €1.75 million initiative, designed to fund freelance and staff journalists’ investigative reports, is asking for ideas and CVs.

Founder Arianna Huffington said layoffs at newspapers were hurting investigative journalism at a time the nation’s institutions need to be watched closely.

The same applies in Ireland. Print freelancers can only make a living if they crank out a high volume of well written articles. The rate for freelance work has not improved much in the last 10 years, so it’s really a numbers game. If you were a freelance journalist, would you take the risk of investigating and reporting a scandal?

Staff positions for talented freelance journalists are as rare as hen’s teeth so freelancers would be fools not to ask themselves a few questions: will I be paid for all the time I spend on this investigation? What happens if the scandal leads to a lawsuit in which I am named? Will this potential outcome impact on my ability to earn a living as a journalist?

Freelancers have less protection from legal action, or loss of income, than staffers if they publish a story that someone finds unfavourable.

Ireland’s international reputation is in tatters thanks to strange goings on in business, government and regulatory circles. Now, more than ever, we need a strong investigative media committed to shining a light in all those dark places. Who dares to fund it?

Year 2010: Tumbleweed blows through the empty streets of the International Financial Services Centre. The once proud little place in the wild west of Europe is almost abandoned. A few nervous survivors squint through cracked glass at the young, fair-haired woman outside. She is wearing sandals and walking carefully through the bank statements and construction dust swirling around her.

“Hello. Is anyone there?” the tanned blonde shouts at the large buildings. A shrouded, emaciated figure scurries down the steps, grabs her hand and pulls her roughly inside.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear you,” says the old woman.

The girl is visibly shaken. “What happened here? Who are you? Who are they?”

“I am Cathleen and this is a damned place. You shouldn’t be here. Go now – while you can.”

“Wait. I’m so confused. My name is Sorcha. I used to work here, but I left for Australia in late 2008. That was only two years ago!”

Cathleen: “Much has changed. A great gang of bandits swept through the land. We were all robbed blind – in broad daylight – and the populace is very frightened and incredibly broke.”

Sorcha: “What about the sheriff and the governor? Why aren’t they doing anything about the outlaws?”

Cathleen: “The sheriff disappeared when things got tough and the governor …”

The old woman bares her teeth in a growl.

Sorcha: “Omigosh. Why did you make that horrible face?”

Cathleen: “He’s locked away in a big building in the city centre. They say he’s very unpredictable. One minute he’s singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way and the next he’s mumbling ‘what’ll we do, what’ll we do?’ in a small, trembling voice.

Sorcha: “There must be more of you than there are of them. Why don’t you all get together and do something about it?”

Cathleen: “Well, laws don’t apply to the white collar gang or the brown envelope brigade like they do for us citizens. Anytime we try to have a voice – on equality, democracy, consumer rights and government accountability – we are silenced. Besides, there’s no fight in us now. Personally, I have nothing left.” She stretches her arms wistfully around the room.

Sorcha: “Don’t tell me you live here? It’s an old bank branch, not an apartment!”

Cathleen: “The wealth was taken from me. My four beautiful overseas properties had to be put up for auction. My pension is gone.”

Sorcha: “Someone must be able to help. Where is everyone?”

She moves towards the door.

Cathleen: “Be careful; there is a hard wind outside.”

She looks into the distance, catching a memory. “The people needed a leader, but no one came.”

Sorcha: “There is always hope. America maybe?”

Cathleen: “No. They have problems of their own. Perhaps? Hmm. There was a legend told in 2009 about a mysterious stranger who would ride in from the Border to save the day.”

Sorcha: “Tell me more. Can I phone or e-mail this person?”

Cathleen: “Impossible. You’ll never get through. In desperation, we tried his favourite form of communication last week – a full-page newspaper ad. Here. We’re still waiting for a sign.”

Sorcha opens the folded page and reads it out loud “Wanted: Maverick gunslinger to eradicate citizens’ enemies.”

Cathleen: “They say he’s a businessman, a frontiersman and a cattle rancher. He wears the striped shirts and heeled boots that are the marks of his clan. Most Dublin people won’t even cross over into that cowboy’s county – Westmeath – for fear of getting the chop.”

Sorcha: “He sounds frightening.”

Cathleen: “Maybe so, but the myth says he’s also very efficient at eradicating waste and wasters. He makes quick, tough financial decisions and carries them through.”

Sorcha: “You make him sound like Superman. No one can fix everything overnight.

“Shouldn’t you all be taking responsibility for what the Government is doing, or not doing, with your money? You still pay taxes. It is your money after all.”

Cathleen: “We know nothing. We see nothing. We point fingers. We do nothing. We will be remembered for nothing. We are waiting . . . for something.”

Sorcha: “I’ll go then. May I have your shroud? It is cold out. I’ll go back to Oz while you wait for a gunslinger, any gunslinger, to answer the call.”

Sorcha walks out into the grey evening, her stooped shoulders giving her the walk of a defeated old woman.

Margaret E Ward is a journalist and managing director of Clear Ink

On tonight’s episode of “Sage of Omaha: the next generation” Grandpa interviews his potential successors from Europe’s greatest economic success story – the Emerald Isle

Stay tuned to see if they have the modesty, frugality, economic knowledge and common sense to become . . . the world’s most successful investor. Our host, eccentric Grandpa Buffett, a publicity-shy, penny-pinching billionaire who built a $120 billion (€89 billion) portfolio for his holding company Berkshire Hathaway, loves nothing better than a burger and cherry Coke.

Gramps, now 78, started his career dealing shares at age 11. Three years later, after saving up from two paper rounds, he spent $1,200 to buy farm land that he rented out to tenant farmers.
Today, his personal wealth is estimated at $52 billion. Despite his riches, he still lives in the home he purchased in 1958.

“I need somebody who shows independent thinking, emotional stability and a keen understanding of both human and institutional behaviour.” Who in Ireland can fill his sensible leather shoes?

Cue folksy intro theme music. Gramps comes on stage, strumming his beloved ukelele. Behind him follows straight-man sidekick and Berkshire Hathaway vice-chairman Charlie Munger, also know as Chuckie.

After finishing a peanut butter and chocolate snack, our host, 83-year-old Chuckie, steps up to the microphone and says: “Warren is the world’s third richest man. Four Irish candidates still think they have the experience, determination and patience to take over at the helm and profitably invest a multibillion dollar portfolio.

“Let’s meet the finalists: chairman of budget airline Ryanair and cowboy wannabe, Michael O’Leary; Taoiseach and anorak convert, Bertie Ahern; novelist and world-famous eavesdropper, Maeve Binchy; and, of course, former UN high commissioner for human rights and mná na hÉireann, Mary Robinson.

“Since Gramps invests in companies where he finds value for money, we’ll start with the best buys around. Which shop offers the best value on new, basic, white cotton T-shirts. Is it Oxfam, Brown Thomas or Penney’s?”

Michael: “Brown Thomas’s designer menswear department. I have about 20 of those shirts in the customised California closet at my big country pile.” “No, I’m afraid you’re disqualified. The answer is Penney’s.” Michael: “I may be out but you’ll see a full page ad on this injustice tomorrow!”

Last year, Berkshire Hathaway returned an impressive 18 per cent. One A share in the company costs around $109,000. A recent Los Angeles Times investigation found that 87 per cent of Berkshire’s publicly disclosed stockholdings were invested in companies that profited from activities in conditions of lax environmental practices and human rights abuses.

“Only three contestants remain for the investment strategy round. If you had a spare billion dollars, would you invest it in utility companies, derivatives or an ethical fund?
Mary: “An ethical fund that protects native people and their lands from exploitation by big business.”

Warren turns red and speaks for the first time during the competition. “Please! It’s profit before people, Mary. You’d invest in a utility company because you want to make money, not because you want to save a Native American tribe that worships rivers. Get outta here.”

Two contestants remain. When they signed up for the contest, they agreed to disclose their personal finances. This allows the Sage of Omaha to investigate if they put their money where there mouth is.

“Bertie, I see you did not have a bank account when you were minister for finance. Besides your house, how did you save or invest during that time?

Bertie: “It is nobody’s business but my own. Why are you harassing me? Don’t look at me. Just look at the economy. I did that!” “If you want to stay in the running you’ll have to reconsider that position.

He turns to the last contestant. “Maeve, do you consider yourself a good investor?

Maeve: “No, not really, Gordon entered me in this contest.”

“Okay, but you have earned a substantial tax-free income. How have you invested it?
“Um, we bought a house in Dalkey a few decades ago and now we have a place in South Africa.”
“You must spend a fortune going back and forth?”

“No, I set a TV series in Capetown so I think RTÉ gave me a few flights, royalties and a consultancy salary.”

Chuckie and Gramps confer. “Bertie has disqualified himself. Maeve, you are folksy, modest, frugal, a good investor and I’m sure you’ll have no problem overhearing market gossip from CEOs. You win!

Please write to Margaret at: cents@clearink.ie.
© 2007 Clear Ink