In this column in recent weeks, I have written about the complex and contested nature of Ireland’s immigration policies, the Government’s failed attempts to restore some order to the rental market, as well as the structural malfunctions within the system that render it unable to deal with the deepening housing crisis.

There have been segways into the realm of Trump, trade and tariffs, plus several columns on the corrosive influence that Michael Lowry has upon politics in general, and this Government in particular.

Every one of the topics is complex and heavily contested. They are multifaceted. Most are open to interpretation, to argument, to debate – I have received countless emails from people offering counterpoints to the columns, although when it comes to Lowry, pretty much everyone seems in agreement. The nature of a column is imperfect; you have to distil down weighty topics into 1,000 words or less and make a coherent argument in relatively easily digestible soundbites. And you have to do it every week.

Most columnists look at these topics in isolation. The great ones can thread all of the issues together to give you a perspective on where we stand as people, and where we are as a country. 

Tommie Gorman was one of those greats.

Often, when I sit down to write a column, my mind drifts to Tommie Gorman, the gifted journalist who died a year ago this week. Tommie made his name and created his legacy in the world of broadcast, but in truth, he was a wordsmith at heart. And he was also a deep thinker about issues. Before his sad passing, I would routinely call him and chat through my thoughts for the column. He would probe, question, and challenge, but he never failed to make the columns more reflective and balanced. 

Because that was the nature of Tommie, as a person and as a journalist. He could look at the various topics that were dominating the agenda – immigration, Trump, housing, the economy – and forensically thread them together, linking them within the broader tapestry of people and place. It was an amazing gift; it came from years of covering war and peace in the North, but it also came from the health battles that he faced down before his untimely passing.

Tommie never looked at a story in isolation; he stood back and tried to assess what it meant for society and for the individuals who lived within that society. Tommie looked at complex policies and sought to examine what they meant for people.  

He understood that everything was linked, and he had a wonderful capacity to thread it together so that it made sense to people. 

Few people in life have that gift, never mind columnists. But that was the mark of Tommie Gorman. He was far more than a journalist and far more than a reporter. He listened to people, and they listened to him and through that relationship, he helped them understand profoundly complex issues by giving them a sense of time and a sense of place. 

I remember ringing him last May. It was a time when tents and their occupants were removed from outside the International Protection Office on Dublin’s Mount Street, and when Britain and Ireland fell out over the movements of refugees between the jurisdictions. It was emotive and evocative. I wanted Tommie to write about the topic because I knew he would have something to say – although, in truth, I had no idea what he would actually write. 

He rang me back the following day, asking for an extra week to write the piece. He wanted to talk to people about it, he wanted to let the issues percolate in his thoughts, he wanted to give it a serious perspective rather than a knee-jerk response.

It was impossible to say no to Tommie. He was just that sort of person. Plus, if he felt he needed more time, then he needed more time. 

And it was worth the wait. The piece brought an economic context to the issue of asylum, but it centred on people. “People seek a better life. For many of those fleeing poverty as well as war, Europe is considered a place of opportunity,” he wrote. “Ireland may be on the outer edge of the European Union, but it has become one of the EU’s wealthiest member states.”

Gorman argued for compassion, for understanding, for solidarity with others less fortunate. And he did it with his lyrical, beautiful prose that characterised his work with us following his retirement from RTÉ.

Two months later, he would be buried in his beloved Co Sligo.

Tommie understood better than everyone that, in life as well as politics, there is no easy black and white for issues. We clamour for winners and losers, but, truthfully, everything is far more complex than neat right-angled boxes. Tommie understood the grey; he got the curves and the jagged edges. And he was able to articulate it in a way that people could associate with.

It is exactly that sort of mindset and precisely that approach that we need today, both in Ireland and abroad. Tommie Goaman sought to build bridges between communities, between people, between ideas. He never sought to inflame anger or stoke agitation. It was a characteristic that allowed him to gain respect from all parties in the North during the Troubles and the resulting Peace Process, and it was that approach that defined his approach to life. 

It is easy to mourn the loss of such a voice. But perhaps the more important act is to emulate it—to strive for the kind of layered, generous thinking that Tommie brought to his work. We need more journalists, policymakers, and citizens who are willing to sit with complexity, to resist the easy outrage, and to speak across lines of division rather than deepen them.

If Tommie Gorman taught us anything, it’s that understanding begins with humility—and that true clarity doesn’t come from simplifying the world, but from embracing its intricacy.

Elsewhere this week…

Veronica Guerin’s killing, 29 years ago this week, exposed more than a single act of brutality — it revealed how organised crime, institutional silence, and civic complacency were eroding Ireland’s moral core. He former colleague Anne Harris reflected upon her legacy, and what her death said about the Ireland of the time. 

What began as a thriving business between two Ukrainian immigrants ended in liquidation, litigation, and accusations of financial misconduct. I reported on the dispute that pushed Polo stores into liquidation.

 After a whirlwind year promoting Prophet Song, Paul Lynch reflected on writing as vocation, the discipline it demands, and the existential cost of ignoring his craft. He spoke to Alison as part of our Arts Matters podcast series, sponsored by HLB Ireland. 

Non-bank lender Capitalflow is now approved by the Central Bank to be a retail credit firm. Its chief executive, Ronan Horgan, outlined how this happened – and what comes next.

Founded by Robin Blandford, D4H Technologies is working on everything from hurricane response to wildfires to cyberattacks. It has now been sold to EcoOnline. Blandford explained how the deal came about.