In the turmoil of RTÉ’s crisis, Siún Ní Raghallaigh, who was the chairperson at that time, proclaimed the lavish expenses incurred on company hospitality by the national television was “scandalous”. With the public’s faith sorely disrupted due to the debacle and a significant uproar in Leinster House, Ní Raghallaigh appeared to exhibit a degree of honesty that lacked in her RTÉ counterparts. However, her potential to lead the beleaguered RTÉ board into an unpredictable future concluded abruptly in February, when she quit following disagreements with Catherine Martin, the Minister of Media.
Seven months later, Ní Raghallaigh holds her silence about revisiting the event. In a sharp statement she released in March, she criticised the Minister for neglecting RTÉ’s ample issues. Martin returned fire, clarifying that she had lost faith in Ní Raghallaigh well before the decisive Prime Time interview, which the chairperson perceived as a “compulsory termination” on live television. The RTÉ board supported Ní Raghallaigh while the Cabinet endorsed Martin. Ní Raghallaigh was asked twice about these interactions in this interview, but twice she declined to comment.
“I’m not reliving the past,” she explained. “I dedicated a great deal of effort. I would say I’m disappointed with how things concluded, but I’ve expressed my thoughts on that matter.”
Savouring green tea at a hotel in Galway, she openly acknowledges that RTÉ’s reputation has been severely damaged, but she maintains that it has been improved due to new transparency regulations and administration frameworks. “There was wrongdoing. I have been forthright about that,” she stated.
Siún Ní Raghallaigh, seven months post the RTÉ incident: the Dáil hearings were ‘malicious. People were treated unjustly, like they had no rights’.
No alteration in Kielty’s wage as Late Late Show host gets ready for his sophomore year.
Graham Norton: ‘People filled with rage want you to lose rights. I hope young gay individuals are ready for the battle.’
Before Ní Raghallaigh, a resident of Connemara, became known to the public, a controversy ignited with the announcement of board remunerations to Ryan Tubridy. The undisclosed payments, characterised as secretive by the then-serving prime minister Leo Varadkar, awakened a storm of scandal. This disclosure unearthed a network of barter accounts funding an extravagant expenditure, exceeding €1.5 million spent on high-end events, eateries, flights, plush accommodation and even seemingly trivial items such as flip-flops. Accompanying this was the commercial failure of the Toy Show musical and exorbitant payouts to executives linked with an era of profound mismanagement. Subsequently, the organisation’s income from licence fees plummeted, necessitating multiple government financial rescues projected to last for the foreseeable future.
When questioned about the fallout of revealing the monetary affairs relating to Tubridy, Ní Raghallaigh remained elusive. “I’m not quite inclined to answer that,” she states. “As the chairwoman, you have responsibilities and the law is paramount. If information is incorrect, it must be rectified. It’s uncomplicated. You cannot simply opt out. Transparency is crucial.”
Her tenure was struck with tumult early on. She served a fleeting 16-month term, of which a specific year will forever be etched as RTÉ’s calamitous chronicle. Someone close to one of the key players cynically dubbed the terrible ordeal as “the summer of love”. For most of those connected with Montrose, this was a period of desperation, fury and estrangement from the organisation’s profuse and distant corporate culture.
Despite her long business career in media, Ní Raghallaigh was relatively new to RTÉ’s environment. She knew some of the network’s figures, but she identified as a newcomer in the station. However, she was profoundly engaged in its mission. “I am deeply invested in public service broadcasting,” she asserts. “Like anyone not directly involved, you develop your own perceptions and believe you understand certain aspects. I was receptive and had my own ideas on how things could be improved.”
“What ideas did she have in mind?” She responded, “Don’t implicate me now.” Upon being probed regarding the excessive remuneration of well-known anchors, she states her assumptions hold no relevance. “Assuming the position of the board’s chair requires open-mindedness. You don’t possess or even require comprehensive details on all matters because it’s simply not feasible.”
Prior to her diverse and lengthy career in Montrose, she was raised in a Gaelic-speaking household in Dunfanaghy, Co Donegal. Her mother, a primary school teacher, hailed from the Gaeltacht area of the county whilst her civil servant father was a Belfast native. Being the youngest amongst eight, she took up employment directly post schooling. Early in her career, she occupied clerical roles within trade unions such as the predecessor of Siptu, the Irish Transport and General Workers’ Union, during an era of notable industrial upheaval. In the 1970s, she remembers dispensing strike wages to the dockworkers of Dublin.
Subsequently, she gained her accountancy qualifications during night classes, all the while juggling full-time work and parenting three young children. “It was slightly madness to say the least,” she concedes. In her position as the Head of Finance at the Sunday Tribune during the tenure of Vincent Browne, she noticed an ubiquitous willingness to take action and sense of unity despite intimidating financial adversity. “We had faith in our abilities.”
Later, she held a financial post with TG4 when Teilifís na Gaeilge, as it was initially referred to, was establishing its headquarters within “a handful of Portakabins”. “We didn’t have widespread support. Obviously, Gaelic speakers backed us. But, the establishment didn’t particularly share in our enthusiasm.” Regardless, the station ultimately became an enduring entity, which saw her return to fulfil two tenure terms as the chairwoman of TG4.
Her other ventures include serving as the leader of Ardmore film studios, the founding head of Troy studios within Dell’s former manufacturing site in Limerick, and executing the role of managing director at Tyrone Productions – a television firm co-established by Moya Doherty, her predecessor at RTÉ. Tyrone conducts operations within the mass market sector, including the launch of internationally renowned shows like Who Wants to be a Millionaire? in Ireland.
Ní Raghallaigh, the creator of a niche production company fondly recalls a documentary portraying the life transformation of a Transylvanian shepherd’s family during Romania’s induction into the EU in 2007. “The societal transition mirrored Ireland’s status two generations ago,” she articulates.
Upon discovering the advertised position on the State Boards website, Ní Raghallaigh submitted her application for the RTÉ post, without any prior intimation or invitation. Her interview via Zoom led to Martin’s recommendation of her candidature to the Government and subsequent appointment in November 2022.
However, by June, RTÉ plunged into a severe crisis amidst escalating political controversy. A series of confrontations at the Dáil Public Accounts Committee (PAC) and the Oireachtas media committee led to the institution becoming a hot topic. Ní Raghallaigh, usually more comfortable behind the scenes, found herself thrust into the public eye during these extended televised sessions.
Contemplating whether she had ever envisaged getting embroiled in the turmoil of Oireachtas committees, she recalls the comment of a friend who had seen her on the first one: “It’s fierce. That’s the only way to put it.” Ní Raghallaigh clarifies the fierce nature was directed towards people who she believed were treated unjustly. “It’s a matter of respect for human dignity,” she stresses.
Emphasizing the importance of accountability, she adds, “I was not subjected to intense scrutiny, but others were, often just for a good quote. It begs the question why this behavior is necessary. There seems to be a lack of respect for individuals.” Addressing the criticism leveled by the two panels, she indicates a more rigorous interrogation ensued from the PAC with certain TDs being partakers of both.
Dee Forbes, the erstwhile director-general of RTÉ, conspicuously stayed away from the hearings during the initial phase of the upheaval. Ní Raghallaigh expressed regrets to Martin for not disclosing that she had asked for Forbes’s withdrawal prior to the controversy being disclosed publicly. She admits to not having communicated with Forbes since then.
Forbes persistently maintains that health conditions prevent her from appearing in front of politicians. Should she have been present at the committees? According to Ní Raghallaigh, that was completely up to Forbes. If she chose not to do so, even amidst a public uproar, that’s her individual decision.
Drawing a parallel between the committee hearings and war, Ní Raghallaigh asserts that long-term funding for broadcasting is still an issue. The government has resolved a funding agreement worth around €725 million from public funds for RTÉ over the coming three years through taxes and licence fees. But for Ní Raghallaigh, it’s merely a band-aid solution indicative of short-sightedness in the political scene.
Ní Raghallaigh is displeased with the lack of a long-term plan, despite the secure funding promised to RTÉ. To her, it is a squanderded opportunity to extend the funding to other media as well. Keeping the outdated clause in the Broadcasting Act unchanged, which ties the licence fee to the possession of a TV set, baffles her.
This results in a condition where those who don’t own a television are exempt from paying the licence fee despite accessing the content, approximately 18 to 20% of households according to Ní Raghallaigh’s claim. If some choose not to pay, the government ends up covering the cost for them.
Despite the government’s guarantee to cover any shortcomings, it seems unfair to the individual to pay a licensing fee. Though I’m prepared to pay mine, it appears to lack a clear reward system. It’s possible the government’s actions are an attempt to avoid upsetting those who refuse to pay the fee, but only the politicians could provide a definitive answer. My understanding is limited.
Looking back, I harbour no remorse. I feel I fulfilled my role, carrying much of the burden alongside my team and board. It was merely a moment in time. Now, it’s essential for the organisation to move forward unhindered. As I’ve noted before, there are highly capable individuals and a robust board at the helm.