There is a variation on an old joke which Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) tell from time to time. It's about a raffle.
The third prize is two air trips to Strasbourg. The second prize is one air trip to Strasbourg. The first prize is the abolition of the practice of holding sessions of the European Parliament in Strasbourg.
Naturally, it's not a joke of French origin, and frankly, most MEPs don't find it that funny. The worst aspect of being an MEP is the constant travel. If you live in the west of Ireland, it takes some 13 hours to get to Strasbourg. There seems to be no possibility of changing the incredibly wasteful practice of transferring 626 MEPs (soon to be 732 MEPs) from Brussels to Strasbourg once a month.
Politics at any level eats into family time, from local elections up. The most bone-crushing of the lot, though, has to be the Brussels/Strasbourg shuffle. Most people think of women MEPs leaving children behind, if they think about it at all. Do fathers not love their children, too?
I spoke to two current MEPs and one aspiring MEP about reconciling politics with family life. All acknowledged the difficulty of maintaining a balance. For example, Seán Ó Neachtain, who is hoping to be returned in the new North West constituency, missed the graduation of one of his daughters, because he had to present a report in the Parliament. Even when at home, most weekends are spent travelling the length and breadth of a large constituency. He is lucky, in that his family are completely supportive of him.
Not all politicians are that fortunate. Seán's wife Chris fields calls for him, and his daughter Sinead works for him. His children are older, with the youngest sitting the Leaving Cert this year. They are better able than small children might be to deal with the demands of a job that he describes as "mind-boggling, if you do it right".
Does it have to be such a relentlessly demanding job? The EU produces rafts of social legislation, with the avowed aim of "pursuing gender equality while reconciling professional and family life". Yet it does not even have maternity leave for MEPs. Sure, you can take paid time off, but there is no mechanism by which you can appoint a designated substitute to continue your committee work or to vote.
Oddly, while temporary substitution is not possible, permanent substitutes are built into the system. Each MEP nominates a number of replacements should he or she retire before the end of the term. Dana managed to upstage Marian Harkin somewhat by announcing Dr Jerry Cowley TD as her "first sub". Seán Ó Neachtain went to Europe as a replacement for Pat "the Cope" Gallagher. Interesting, is it not, to think that a vote for some of our sitting TDs will, in effect, be a vote for a "first sub" if the TD in question has an improvement in political fortune after the next general election. You might like to inquire who the "first sub" is.
Patricia McKenna highlighted the lack of a maternity substitution system when pregnant with Oisín, who is now seven. She muses, however, that a tiny baby is not the problem.
She brought Oisín with her for the first year, and managed to combine breastfeeding with work in a way that raised only the most regressive of eyebrows. It is later that the difficulties begin to bite.
She loves the work, but does not relish how unfriendly it is, not just to family, but to life. "Parts of your life are always on hold," she says, "because you spend so much time travelling." Little can be done about geography, but what about the working conditions Is it fair, or even efficient, to expect people to put in seven-day weeks?
If I had written this article before the 1999 election, it would have been mainly high-profile people who were experiencing the rigours of demanding jobs. Now, given the realities of ruinous mortgages and commuting, even people in modest jobs feel, in Bilbo Baggins' plaintive phrase, like "butter scraped over too much bread". People sneer about MEPs' salaries and expenses, but money only compensates for some, but by no means all, losses.
Mairéad McGuinness, who is hoping to be elected in the new East constituency, says that it is not just politics, but that life in Ireland in general has become very unfriendly to family. People who are commuting to Dublin from Carlow, Tullamore and Athlone are also desperately striving to keep work and family in balance.
Like the other two I spoke to, Mairéad has a spouse, Tom, who sees the value of being an MEP, and who is deeply committed to family life. As a farmer, he works from home. Patricia McKenna feels it is very important that one parent be there, and her husband, Martin, works full-time in the home. Chris, Seán Ó Neachtain's wife, is a vital part of his work. Funny, it sounds just like de facto job-sharing to me.
The Swedish Greens came up with a proposal for job-sharing for MEPs before the last European elections. There are obvious advantages to having two people. It gives them more time with their families. Constituents would also benefit, because their representatives would not be exhausted all the time.
The question of job-sharing for MEPs has never been raised in the European Parliament, nor have there been requests for it. Some people, like Seán Ó Neachtain, are adamant that it could not work. The job requires 100 per cent consistency and commitment, and he feels that constituents would not accept it. Patricia McKenna also feels that it would be very difficult, and she believes that introducing maternity leave with substitution might be a better beginning.
The ego and personality-driven nature of Irish politics makes it hard to imagine how job-sharing could work. However, what is so sacred about politics? Every form of job-sharing that is now acceptable was first declared unworkable. It would be nice to see politicians leading from the front, giving some imaginative leadership on work-life balance. Also, many more women and younger people might get involved in politics, both at national and European level, if it did not demand so much from everybody else in their lives.