Blog.

I am sitting at an Illy Café in the centre of Paris, some metres off the Place de la Concorde. The smell of ground coffee and pain-aux-raisins permeates the airy space as my trainee Italian barista struggles with her machines. Being at my leisure, I contemplate the day she is having in her own head, and … Continue reading “Jessye In Paris”

My DNA malfunction has been addressed. Through the intervention of medical experts, six robotic incisions, and three hours of surgery, my prostate has been removed and with it a 2.2 centimetres tumour. Pathology, some seven days after the operation, determined that the cancer did not breach the prostate capsule. Being thus contained, there is no … Continue reading “Beyond Cancer, To Dancing”

I am a child of summer, born on the 12th of July. My mother tells me I came into the world on a beautiful day. This little detail – inconsequential on the face of it – has become important to me. It invites me to dance in the sunlight, part of the origin-story I tell myself. I … Continue reading “Today I Am Reborn”

I am sitting in a cafe that sits in a Garden Square. It is run by an Italian famiglia ‘since 1981’. That is their claim, though I have cause to doubt it. It is a cafe suffused with chaotic incompetence, which strikes me as vaguely charming. If you want utilitarian coffee in London you go … Continue reading “London, In The Heart Of June”

Chapter 1: Changing Habits I have drifted in my leisure-time media consumption, both in form and in content. It used to be that every narcissistic turn of Trump would drag me to a screen, anxious to decide if I was witnessing Barnum’s Circus or the End Of Days. But no more. I’ve given up on lies. … Continue reading “Meaning Of Mystery: The Lost Girls Of Panama”

It is 10am, and I am sitting on the balcony of Crust in St Julian’s – a bakery made for visitors, offering Full English Breakfast including Lincolnshire sausage, as well as three types of fresh croissant. There is much to lament here, in the epicentre of Malta’s industrial tourism complex. The oppressive clacking of carry-on … Continue reading “Malta’s Fault-lines Of Love  “

The logo. That simple, eloquent and essential visual statement of who you are. What you stand for. How you’re different, and relevant.  As Democratic clambering gathers heat in the USA with today’s entry of Joe Biden, it’s interesting to see how the leading candidates have chosen to present themselves. For fun, I’ll look at their … Continue reading “Decoding The Candidates’ Logos”

Have you ever sat in the back seat of a car, certain of the route to be taken only to witness your driver make a disastrously wrong turn? That’s Scotland.  One of my signal memories of that June morning after Brexit came from north of Hadrian’s wall. The troublesome tribes, which the Romans decided were unconquerable, had a … Continue reading “Scotland’s Dissent”

I am possessive about grammar, like a dog with a bone. And like most dogs on the street, I know that ‘hers’ takes no apostrophe. But Her’s does.  I’m aware of this because over the last years I have thought a lot about the meaning of music in the lives of young adults. I’m not the only … Continue reading “Her’s & Ours”

When I was otherwise engaged gestating, Susan Sontag published an essay entitled ‘Notes On Camp’.  That was the autumn of 1964, a period of tremendous social upheaval. Parisian teenagers, then in their mid-teens, would go on to university and end up rioting in the streets  in ’68. Four twenty-somethings Beatles who had already written ‘Can’t … Continue reading “The Role Of Camp In Culture”

We are each of us in search of transcendent experiences. This desire is at the heart of spirituality, the soul of music and the essence of love. The search is part of our human inheritance. Chocolate companies may pretend to get us there; endorphinoligists may promise a 10km run that brings you to your knees will bring you there. … Continue reading “Life Is Simply Magnificent”

Stalin has brought me coffee. My kind of coffee. Because Stalin is my kind of man. He noticed, over the first four mornings, that I was abstaining from India’s bitter beans. ‘I have some Nescafé at home, sir’, he said. And that was that. The next day my caffeine IV route was reestablished. No more … Continue reading “India’s Secret”

It seems I am surrounded with lessons about dimensions. And it seems I am a slow learner. Kahneman’s heuristics are pressing down on me: a smattering of availability bias here, a dollop of recency bias there, a big swathe of selection bias everywhere. Every pathway leads to a personal teaching moment on dimensions. I love a simple observation which helps … Continue reading “Three Dimensions Of Elon”

Lying in bed on the beautiful morning of the 11th of November 2018, I began reading a seven-page contract.  As business documents go, it was succinct, action-oriented and clear. I have seen lengthier papers describing the launch of a new variety of chocolate spread. But this document sought to do something more fundamental. Its words described … Continue reading “My Own Private Armistice”

During the course of 124 minutes, with the help of iTunes, I have returned to the scene of the crime. This was, you must remember, no ordinary criminal. He was distilled from nature – a perfect killing machine that stalked the waters of Amity island through the arc of an American summer. In the course of that one … Continue reading “Flaws, Jaws And Genius”

I am interested in how groups of people can, in the right context and with the right invitation, come to act as one in pursuit of progress.  Such a thing – scattered people coming together to act with unity – is so rudimentary as to be almost invisible in our day-to-day lives. Observe, for example, how a … Continue reading “Innovation Is Murmuration”

A client of mine is not working today. He is departing on a boat from Dún Laoghaire to proceed a few nautical miles out to sea, past Kish. From there, he will join many other families in laying wreaths, in memory of the 527 souls who perished and some 256 who survived, when the mailboat RMS … Continue reading “RMS Leinster: down in dazzle”

Her name was as big and meaty as her voice and presence. I happened to be awake early this Saturday morning as the news came in. Montserrat Caballé is dead. ‘Muere Montserrat’ the headline said. And she died in the only place she could – in Barcelona.  When you live in Europe, it is easy … Continue reading “My Memories Of Montserrat”

I have walked above clouds. The first time you do it, it leaves its mark.  That summer, I’d been walking on an ancient pilgrim route from Le Puy in France towards the Pyrenees. To get there, you have to traverse the Massif Central – a highland region peppered with mountains and plateaus. I have a … Continue reading “Walking Above Clouds”

I sat for an hour beside the grave of Jane Austen. The problem with people from the 19th century is that they are, to a man and woman, dead. Yesterday I encountered her sister Cassy and her mother Cassandra. They too were unalive, although for less time than Jane, having had the good sense to … Continue reading “Jane Austen: dead or alive”

If you want a sense of how large the Muslim world is, and how committed its believers are to holy ritual, you might begin your research in Jeddah airport. Saudi Arabia’s second city sits on the azure waters of the Red Sea, approximately 60kms from Mecca. The signposts call it Makkah. Every year, the airport … Continue reading “Jane Austen Has Invited Me To Tea”

The established counsel for prospective authors, dispensed at the drop of a microphone, is twofold: Read. Write. It is counsel which, in its own way, is as much censure as it is inspiration. Read you lazy fuck. Then write. Don’t imagine you can string words together before you qualify to so do. Do your grunt … Continue reading “Why I Write”

It is so easy to be drawn into it – the tumult of adoration during which we suspend our critical faculties. Take the founders of Google, for example. I hardly know anything about them other than they’re Stanford wizards, one is called Sergey and both were bent on changing the world. Their origin story was one of … Continue reading “The Prodigal Fanboy “

A few days ago, a transit worker at Seattle Airport entered the cockpit of an otherwise empty Alaska Air Bombardier plane and made an ‘unauthorised takeoff’. He flew around the environs of Seattle for over an hour before bringing his escapade, his aircraft and his life to an end on Ketron Island.  As I read social … Continue reading “The Legend of Poor Rich”

Almost ten years ago I began a post-grad in psychology – spending two years learning full time. In celebration of this rich experience, I’m sharing some of the essays I wrote at the time which have resonance today. This one – regarding how social psychology can explain, predict, stop, start, modify and prevent behaviour in the real world – … Continue reading “How Psychology Can Help Change Behaviour”

If you ever doubted the ability of one person’s influence to permeate a culture and make drones of living, breathing adults, look no further than Ryanair. This is an enormous, profitable, innovative airline that is pancreatically sick. Sickness breeds apathy, insensitivity and ultimately the erosion of humanity. No matter how lofty its share price nor … Continue reading “Ryanair and the culture of ‘non-priority’”

My truncated opera career lasted four seasons. Being a late bloomer, I got cast in character roles because most every story features an old man in its plot. My fellow-singers were 15 years my junior, most at the beginning of their professional singing careers. At the age of 40, I had come along for the ride. I … Continue reading “ASMR: one tingle and you’re tangled”

Almost ten years ago, I returned to full-time education for two years, completing a post-grad in psychology. In celebration of this enriching experience, I am sharing some of my favourite essays on themes of psychology relevant to today’s culture. The essay below (original title: How do experts use their knowledge differently from novices?) is a favourite because it … Continue reading “Where Are The Experts? Why Aren’t They Here?”

I met a taxi driver yesterday by the name of Qemal. I asked him if he was Iranian, or maybe Turkish? He was neither.  Getting a sense of him was perplexing.  He had picked me up in the forgotten little car park between Terminals 1 & 2 at Dublin Airport, the only place where app-ordered … Continue reading “Finding Illyria”

Almost ten years ago I began a post-grad in psychology – spending two years learning full time. In celebration of this rich experience, I’m publishing some of the essays I wrote at the time which seem to have resonance today. This one – regarding how seriously we should take the phenomenon of asexuality – feels relevant … Continue reading “All We Are Saying Is Give Asexuals A Chance”

Almost ten years ago, I returned to full-time education for two years, completing a post-grad in psychology. In celebration of this enriching experience, I am sharing some of my favourite essays on themes of psychology relevant to today’s culture. Each represents over 40 hours of reading, thinking and writing (At least, that’s what my gut tells me). … Continue reading “The Way You Think Can Save Your Life”

It is a long, meandering tale of tragedy. Across 6.5 hours and 13 episodes, the podcast entitled West Cork rakes the detail of how Sophie Tuscan du Plantier got caught in briars outside her holiday home and was grotesquely murdered. It details how the Frenchwoman’s body was left out on the ditch so long without … Continue reading “West Cork To The World”

John Mahoney’s true love was the stage. After his role in ‘A Long Day’s Journey Into Night’ in Galway, he remarked to his friend, playwright Tom Murphy, on how silent and intent his Irish audiences were. ‘That’, said Murphy, pointing to the stage, ‘is because what goes on up there is sacred to us’. Although … Continue reading “Frasier’s Dad is Dead”

I had been travelling a long time before I recognised that no matter how good my hotel room was, it would never be as good as sleeping in my own home. Judging a hotel is, for me, not the examination of luxury but rather the approximation to familiarity. It is for this reason that hotels … Continue reading “Dolores”

My mother was a toddler when Germany invaded Poland in 1939, and still under ten years old when Hitler took to his bunker and failed to re-emerge, in 1945. Childhood memories of WWII are relatively dewy in Ireland, lacking the chaos, drama and trauma experienced by many other young Europeans. ‘The Emergency’ for Irish children … Continue reading “Reinventing The Banana”

On explaining my dance plans to a friend a few months back, he encouraged me to camp things up a bit. Go the whole hog. ‘Arrive in a sari’, he said. ‘Show them you mean business’. We laughed at the prospect. But now that I look back on what happened with Kanish, his suggestion seems … Continue reading “Going Bollywood”

I take it all back. Indians drive like maniacs. They overtake on a whim with zero view of oncoming traffic, and the margin of error as they skirt each other is ±0. Their keeping it road-safe efforts are compounded by wild dogs and wandering cows. If the act of driving were dance, I reside in … Continue reading “What It Means To Be Indian”

The first twelve hours in a country are hardly the basis for any decision beyond where to go for dinner. What do I know of India? I have, after all, done precious little since my arrival on the coast of Columbus’ dreams. Landing in the early morning, I took a transfer and proceeded to ask … Continue reading “Twelve Hours In India”

The irony of innovation is that it is often discussed and rarely encountered. Most of what we marketing folk label ‘innovation’ is merely a twist, twirl or twinkle. So it should be. There isn’t anything new in the world. Until, once in a while, there is. In such moments, innovation can face a crippling problem: … Continue reading “Bitcoin: the little cryptocurrency that could”

Life is lived in a tumble of moments upon moments, each vying to gain our attention. In the helter-skelter of living, it is unclear which experiences will emerge important, and why. When revisited, however, life becomes punch-clear. Certain events stand taller, and command more light. Casual facts become crucial evidence as we, Hercules Poirots of … Continue reading “Putting On My Selina Scotts”

It is my destiny never to get to the bottom of it. I no longer seek to understand why this city, part of a nation devoted to aesthetics, can live in such a formidable, expansive and all-embracing dump. Dump? I am not talking of the buildings of Palermo, rich in history and charm, stacked high … Continue reading “Palermo Mio”

– When a guy makes stupid moves on the draughts board, causing chaos and holding up the game, commanding attention and acting like a fool. That guy is only crazy until you realise he’s playing chess. So you’d better make sure you know the game in progress before you criticise the player. – So the … Continue reading “Why Trump Is Here To Stay”

When Max Ehrmann wrote his beloved prose poem in 1927, little suggested that Desiderata would live on beyond him. In open verse, the Latin title of which translates as ‘that which is to be desired’ encapsulated his own life’s philosophy. It was his way to pass on the wisdom of his 55 years of life … Continue reading “Go Placidly And Create A Brand World”

Her death, one of the most celebrated in literature, happens off-stage. Ophelia, driven mad by the betrayals and subterfuge of the men who encircle her, lies down in waters surrounded by garlands. There, in the purity of nature and bedecked in flowers, amongst them one known to women as ‘dead men’s fingers’, she allows her … Continue reading “Ophelia Bears Down On Harvey”

In the Spring of 2014, I sat in a Dublin café with George Hook talking about how gay men and women come out in the Irish workplace. The conversation came about because of a study myself and my colleague Dr Elizabeth Nixon had undertaken, published under the auspices of Trinity College and GLEN. George buttered … Continue reading “My Encounter With George Hook”

I have long been critical of brands that slyly betray their owners. The splendid ‘poo girl’ story emanating from Bristol and spreading its delicate aromas all over the globe gives me opportunity to moan once more. Let me recount the bare bones of the alarming little story, lest you’ve been reading Jane Austen, or Fordyce’s … Continue reading “Poo”

In the glare of an August afternoon, I walked among headstones in Mount Jerome. There was a pleasant stillness about the place, and I had time to kill before I would sing. So I browsed the plots, a pastime which brings one readily to a meditative state. I passed a family vault to my right … Continue reading “It Would Make You Think”

As teenagers just out of school, I and four friends cycled across France and a bit of Switzerland. We had two tents, one map-reader and no money. It was a great trip. I was never much interested in the route we would take. We left that to Mark, who, true to his orientational instincts, would … Continue reading “War of the World”

As the flames danced behind the cheap cladding of Grenfell Tower, there was a brief moment when the story’s end was not yet told. Fires in cities happen, of course. Even spectacular high-rise fires can occur – like those of Dubai. But their drama seems vastly to outweigh their seriousness. We have become habituated to … Continue reading “London’s Burning”

It is a scenario familiar to most small businesses. You develop a disproportionate relationship with a single client; all goes well and the mutual benefit is evident, and then a new head-honcho rides into town. As is his prerogative, he sees the world differently and changes things around. You thought that your precious business relationship … Continue reading “When The Big Boy Bails”