Over the last year or so in Ireland we’ve seen several politicians step into the world of broadcasting.

Enda Kenny gave us his rail documentary series, though one could argue that if he was so passionate about Irish trains, why did he do so little for them when he was taoiseach? We also had Bertie Ahern’s As I remember it podcast series on Newstalk radio where he talked to people involved in the creation of the Good Friday Agreement.

Most recently Tánaiste Micheál Martin launched his own podcast “In Conversation with” on the official Fianna Fáil YouTube channel. The first episode, with Dr Mark Henry, has notched up around 1.3k page views to date, which might not seem a lot but it’s a considerably higher figure than most of the fare on the Fianna Fáil channel, it must be said.

In Ireland, it’s unusual to see a serving politician make that move but in the UK, things are very different.

In fact, look across the water and there’s an embarrassment of over-confident politicians who have all jumped into the world of TV and radio.

 The majority are egotistical Conservatives desperately looking for new revenue streams now that they’ve bled Britain dry and electoral annihilation awaits in 2024.

But there’s a chasm between being able to deliver a 20-second soundbite and being talented enough to anchor hours of rolling news or a phone-in where you deal with angry members of the public, and anything can happen.

Jacob Rees-Mogg, who always comes across as the “Minister for the 1850s”, has been presenting on the right-wing news channel GB News and his colleague Nadine Dorries has been working for Talk TV. If you’ve ever had a bad day at work and you go home questioning your ability, go on YouTube and watch clips of this pair trying to broadcast. You’ll laugh and you’ll suddenly feel like you have it in you to cure cancer and win an Olympic gold medal next year, never mind get that promotion you’ve always wanted.

That’s the thing about broadcasting — it’s a skill, something you need to work hard at, hone, develop, and practice. I started out doing hurling match reports in Co Wexford for South-East Radio when I was 16 years old. I’m now 47.

That’s how long I’ve been working at it. And when I say “working at it”— I mean every single day, watching better broadcasters, learning from them, asking for advice and trying to turn myself into a good operator. It’s a work in progress, but I hope to get there.

Politicians, on the other hand, spend their lives going into studios, doing the media rounds and feigning interest in policies their advisers have told them to implement. The upshot is — certainly in basket-case Britain — that people like Rees-Mogg and Dorries think they can do the broadcaster’s job better themselves.

The lack of respect for top presenters often baffles me, especially when it comes from bang average politicians who stumble and bumble their way through interviews on topics they’re supposed to be across.

Issues they’re being paid handsomely to be able to communicate.

The one notable exception in the UK is the excellent podcast The Rest is Politics, hosted by Tony Blair’s old spin doctor Alastair Campbell and the former Conservative MP Rory Stewart. They are an absolute must-listen and are attracting a huge listenership, mainly people who have become utterly frustrated at the conservative stranglehold on much of the UK media. It’s fresh, it’s intelligent and the pair bounce off each other very well.

They take a topic and forensically dissect it. The listener learns something, they’re passionate, and they care.

There’s nothing else like it in Britain right now and it works because it offers sane, intelligent debate without the kind of screaming hysteria that dominates places like GB News.

And you don’t have the word “woke” spat at you every five seconds just to keep Karen in Basingstoke happy.

Breaking into the industry

But my big problem with the other politicians who have been handed lucrative media careers on a plate is that they are greedily hoovering up jobs and denying young people an opportunity to get into the industry.

It’s hard enough to break into broadcasting without all the top slots being clogged up with clapped-out politicians looking for a cushy pension top-up.

I know because I worked non-stop for every single break that came my way.

My father was a garda and my mother was a nurse, there was no family or political connection ready to hand out a free ride to the likes of me in Enniscorthy. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For most politicians, dipping their toes into the world of media has more to do with power and prestige than revenue.

Ego drives them to find their own corner of the airwaves where they can hold court, long after their political race has been run. For those who are still in office, taking editorial control to talk directly to “the people” is too tempting to resist.

But like the customer who has wandered behind the bar counter to pull a pint “for the craic”, politicians who step behind the microphone find that the result can be a decidedly mixed affair which leaves a bitter aftertaste and maybe even an almighty hangover.

Some things are better left to the experts.