Northern Ireland’s Public Appointments System: Open in Theory, Closed in Practice?

For years, I’ve argued that appointments to public boards in Northern Ireland are perceived to be a closed shop. No less than two weeks ago, I found myself in another meeting with another group of mature, experienced directors and when I suggested similar, I was largely closed down and my opinions were disregarded. I don’t say this lightly, nor as someone looking in from the outside. I’ve worked across public policy, local government, business, and engagement for decades, and I’ve seen how these systems operate up close.

So, I was intrigued to read in The Irish News (March 30th) the comments of the newly appointed Commissioner for Public Appointments, Claire Keatinge, who said that the data on who actually sits on these boards is “poor”. That, in truth, didn’t surprise me—but what did strike me was just how stark the position now appears to be. I am also going to admit that I feel vindicated and that, as someone who often finds himself on the end of criticism for voicing concerns with respect to this issue, somewhat self-assured.

In business, there’s a simple principle: if you’re measuring, you’re managing. And if you’re only measuring half, then you’re not really managing at all.

With fewer than half of applicants to public boards completing monitoring forms, we are, in effect, flying blind. We talk a great deal about equality, diversity and inclusion, yet we cannot say with any real confidence who is actually sitting around the table—and that is a fundamental weakness in the system.

However, if I’m being honest, the deeper issue here isn’t just the absence of data. It’s what many people already suspect, and what, over time, has become increasingly difficult to ignore.

There is a clear and recognisable pattern in who ends up on these boards. A significant proportion come from senior public sector backgrounds—often individuals who have spent long careers within the system and, in many cases, have since retired or stepped back from full-time roles.

Now, that in itself is not a criticism. Many of these individuals bring considerable experience, sound judgement, and a genuine commitment to public service. Boards undoubtedly benefit from that.

But it does raise an obvious and, I think, entirely reasonable question: why do we keep seeing the same profile appear so frequently?
Part of the answer is straightforward. Those who have worked within the public sector understand how the system operates. They are familiar with the processes, the language, and the expectations. That familiarity gives them an advantage—perhaps not by design, but certainly in practice.

And then there is the question, which is more difficult to answer but often quietly asked: to what extent do networks and relationships play a role? Even if the system is fair, the perception that it might not be, can be just as damaging.

Because, from where many people are standing, it doesn’t feel like a system that is easily accessible.

In conversations I’ve had over the years with people in the private sector and in the community and voluntary sector, a common theme emerges. Many simply don’t know how to go about applying for these roles. Some don’t even realise the opportunities exist. Others, having made the effort to apply, describe a process that feels overly rigid and, at times, detached from the realities of their experience.

In particular, the interview stage is often cited as a barrier. Candidates can find themselves navigating highly structured, competency-based formats where success depends as much on the use of prescribed language as it does on the substance of their experience. For those coming from outside the public sector, that can feel artificial and, frankly, discouraging.

So while the system may be open in principle, in practice it can feel anything but—and that distinction matters.

When public bodies are responsible for decisions involving millions, and in some cases billions, of pounds of public money, the range of perspectives around the table is not a secondary issue. It is central to the quality of those decisions.

At present, I would suggest that important voices are missing.

We see too little representation from those in business who deal daily with risk, investment and growth. We hear too little from people working on the ground in community organisations, who understand how policy translates into lived experience. And too often, those who rely on the very services being shaped are absent from the conversation altogether.

The result is not simply an issue of representation—it is a narrowing of perspective, and ultimately a limitation on effectiveness.
Better boards do not just look different; they think differently. And that leads to better outcomes.

If we are serious about addressing this, then a number of changes are required.

To begin with, the collection of monitoring data must be strengthened. If diversity and inclusion are to mean anything in practice, then participation in that process cannot be optional.

Alongside that, there is a clear need to demystify how public appointments work. This means going beyond simply advertising roles and instead actively engaging with a wider range of potential candidates—particularly those who would not naturally see themselves as part of the system.

It also requires a willingness to look again at the process itself. The heavy reliance on competency frameworks and structured responses may provide reassurance from an administrative or risk perspective, but they do not always capture the breadth of real-world experience that boards would benefit from. In some cases, they may actively filter it out.

And finally, there must be a genuine commitment to broadening the pool of candidates—not as an aspiration, but as a practical objective.
Because if we continue to draw from the same networks, we will continue to see the same outcomes.

Claire Keatinge is right to say that the system is not a closed shop. But from the perspective of many people outside it, it does not feel particularly open either.

Until that gap between intention and experience is addressed, the credibility of the system will continue to be questioned—and, more importantly, its effectiveness will remain constrained.