When I was in a bookshop with my son at the weekend, he asked for several books. I explained that no, he could only get one, but when he read it, he could get more. “Buying books and reading books are two entirely different hobbies,” I told him.
Not that I’m one to talk. My own to-read pile is starting to look like a literary game of Jenga.
This same pattern haunts my work life. I’m always hunting for the perfect productivity system, addicted to trying new to-do apps and note-taking tools. The cycle is predictably tragic: I enthusiastically populate the app with tasks, get overwhelmed by the mountain of unfinished business staring back at me, then abandon it for something shinier. My old to-dos remain trapped in productivity limbo while I chase the next organisational unicorn.
Turns out I’m not alone in this affliction.
Our much-maligned rulers have perfected this art form. They commission reports and strategy documents with the enthusiasm of Victorian explorers, then do absolutely bugger all with them. The consultation becomes performance art, appearing to do something while doing precisely nothing.
This seems to be a national characteristic. Even our brothers and sisters who went to live with Dublin daddy in the divorce of 1921, despite all their newfound wealth, appear equally inept at turning plans into reality.
Today’s Financial Times perfectly illustrates this phenomenon. Despite Ireland’s economic success, the country is drowning in its own inability to implement:
essential public infrastructure is simply failing to keep up. The government — a coalition between the centrist Fianna Fáil and more conservative Fine Gael — has repeatedly missed its house building targets. Investments in data centres around Dublin have been forced to stop because the ageing power grid is under too much strain. Although the state water utility has been given the green light for vital new drainage works in parts of Dublin, other projects face delays, potentially limiting drinking water in the capital. Despite an abundance of wind, offshore renewable energy projects are trudging through Ireland’s planning system and the country is falling behind on its 2030 climate goals, risking EU fines as high as €26bn.
Critics argue that Ireland should be using its windfalls to counter its infrastructure deficits. The IMF estimates Ireland has significantly less road, electricity, water, sewage, school and hospital infrastructure than similar small, high-income EU peers — and what it has is of worse quality. But Ireland’s problem is not money, it is “implementation”, says one senior official who blames “siloed” government decision making. Action plans, including on housing and competitiveness, are due in the coming weeks, but “when everything is a priority, nothing is a priority”, he adds. Civil servants drafted a two-page document a month after the budget was unveiled last October highlighting energy, water, transport and housing as key focuses. But it went nowhere, the official says. Meanwhile, productivity in the construction sector is low and Ireland slid three places in the 2025 IMD World Competitiveness Rankings compared with the year before.
My fellow digital entrepreneurs constantly extol the virtues of personal assistants, someone to hassle you into actually working. I’ve been tempted, but after a lifetime of resisting authority, I suspect it wouldn’t end well for either party.
While my personal bumbling doesn’t matter in the grand scheme, this implementation deficit becomes genuinely problematic at the country level.
There’s real merit in bringing outside experts to sort out our problems. I dream of the day that DFI brings over a team of towering Dutch transport specialists to revolutionise our system.
Picture it: Jan, all 6’5″ of him with flowing blonde locks, mesmerising us with PowerPoint presentations about integrated public transport. Trains to airports! Extensive cycle networks across Northern Ireland! Revolutionary stuff!
But then the inertia field kicks in. Nothing gets done. Jan slinks back to Holland to drown his sorrows in Heineken and stoopwafels, another victim of our collective implementation paralysis.
So what’s the cure for this chronic condition? How do we bridge the gap between brilliant plans and actual execution?
Perhaps the answer isn’t another productivity app or another consultant. Maybe it’s accepting that implementation is inherently messy, uncomfortable, and requires the kind of sustained effort that makes us squirm in our planning-obsessed souls.
Ireland has a deep, ingrained suspicion of authority. In the south, no one trusts the politicians in Dublin, and every TD concentrates on what is best for their fiefdom. In the North, we think Stormont and everyone in it are utterly useless. Combine that with a national character that leans more towards “sure it’ll be grand” than “let’s build the damn thing”—and you get drift. We’re great at ideas, world-class at talking, but allergic to decisive action.
Ireland’s problem North and South isn’t money. It’s implementation. That means cutting red tape, empowering the right people, building proper delivery capacity, and for the love of God, making somebody responsible.
We know what to do. We just need to do it.
But first, maybe another consultation?
Managing Editor of Slugger O’Toole. I help to manage Slugger by taking care of the site as well as running our live events. My background is in business, marketing and IT. My politics tend towards middle-of-the-road pragmatism; I am not a member of any political party. When not stuck in front of a screen, I am a parkrun Run Director.
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