Tinteán

Book reviews by Frank O’Shea

ALAN JOYCE AND QANTAS. The Trials and Transformation of an Australian Icon. By Peter Harbison with Derek Sadubin. Penguin Random House 2023. 380 pp. $36.99

Alan went to work with Aer Lingus, employed at Shannon in a number of roles that made use of his mathematical background, areas like network planning, fleet planning and schedule planning. One of those with whom he corresponded regularly at that time was fellow-mathematician Garret Fitzgerald, the future Taoiseach. Shannon airport had been set up in 1935, not long after Irish independence. It was, according to this book, ‘the catalyst for the Irish fixation with aviation and for the proliferation of prominent industry leaders that far surpasses the rightful amount for a country of Ireland’s size.’

Joyce moved to Australia in 1996 to work for some years in the now-defunct Ansett Airlines. Early in the new century, he was nicked from Ansett by Geoff Dixon, the CEO of Qantas and began the work of setting up a low-cost Qantas subsidiary named Jetstar. Before he started, he returned to Ireland for a holiday, during which he was offered the post of CEO of Aer Lingus, a position he turned down. After his success at Jetstar, he was appointed CEO of Qantas in November 2008. Most people in such a stressful position last for about five years, but Joyce was still at the head of Qantas until 2023.

The title of this book is Alan Joyce and Qantas, the second part taking up most of the text, which deals in some detail with the troubles and successes of the airline over the past 15 years. Joyce had to deal with 14 trade unions within Qantas, with over 50 collective agreements which had to be re-negotiated every three years. Three of those unions in particular were bothersome. In 2011, things got so bad that he grounded the airline completely, much to the annoyance of minister for transport Albanese and Prime Minister Julia Gillard, who found themselves unable to get out of Perth after a cabinet meeting. The lockdown lasted only one day as it happened, with the issues being passed to Fair Work Australia.

The other big difficulty Joyce faced was the COVID-19 outbreak which shut down airlines all over the world. His dealings with that are all covered in this book as are his business connections with Australian industry in general. ‘The mining executives from Melbourne’s establishment saw eye-to-eye with the Maths geek Irishman from the backblocks of Dublin,’ the author writes.

After he resigned from Qantas in 2023, the media found or in some cases created reasons to criticise him, a situation that will probably continue. ‘By many standards, Joyce has been richly rewarded during his time as Qantas CEO, earning over $130 million in salary and benefits in his fifteen years at the helm,’ the author writes. That being said, reading this book will give a reader the view that in fact he earned every dollar of it. He was never afraid to front the media and it was encouraging for other Irish people in Australia that he never lost his working-class Dublin accent.

COCAINE COWBOYS. By Nicola Tallant. Eriu. 233 pp. €12.08

We know that Ireland has reputable brands of beer and whiskey, names that are world leaders and can be found in almost every country. We are probably proud of that and even make a joke about Guinness or Jameson or their junior partners. But it now appears that there is another product in the use of which our little country has raced up the international league of consumers. That product is cocaine. ‘In the Europe Union, Ireland now qualifies as having the highest usage rates of the drug,’ we are told at the end of this book by Dublin journalist Nicola Tallant.

It is hardly a claim to make the country proud, nor can we imagine that it is in the same category as the times when we had a similar reputation for alcohol production and consumption, some of it home-distilled. In the context of drugs, we are talking about young men who represent their club in football or some sport and are found at the weekend sniffing a white powder to the approval of their companions. 

There is one other thing about this new Irish claim to international fame, namely the violence and murders that accompany it. This book tells the story of many of the disputes and feuds that have arisen between the various street gangs involved in the selling and distribution of the drug in question. Some of the names will be familiar even to Irish people living out of the country – Kinahan and Hutch and their extended families, for example – but most of the names here would not be known outside Ireland. For readers of Irish newspapers or followers of television news within the country, the names might be more familiar.

It is likely that the story of the Mansfield family, for example, might be widely known in Ireland and the book has a long account of the brief career of socialite Katy French, described as a long-time enthusiastic user of cocaine. The amounts of money involved are staggering – we are talking billions rather than mere millions at the top end – and the author also stresses the way that many of the early importers and distributors have been replaced by a younger breed, many still teenagers.

There is treatment of the use of encryption to send messages between gangs, locally and internationally. When one of the early systems was cracked by the police, they were replaced by others including one called ANOM which the gangs did not realise was developed by the FBI, aided by Australia.

This book will make more sense to residents of Ireland. For those outside the country, it will mainly be a source of some melancholy that the country has descended to this level. Despite the sadness after a young person was killed as a result of the trade, ‘the murders, the violence and the chaos, demand for cocaine continued to grow and a never-ending stream of ambitious newcomers made moves on the market,’ the author writes about the change from the era covering the leftover of the Celtic tiger to its current, normal state of debt.