If there's one lesson that the government will take from the Nice treaty debacle, it's not that they should argue the case for the Lisbon Treaty. After all, with Nice only 8% of voters surveyed declared that they had a good understanding of the Treaty and it can't be much better this time around.

Besides, if they try to argue the facts they will likely end up in a mess. The Treaty is generally an unexiting, obscure and complicated institutional reform so there's nothing inspiring to argue for. More importantly no campaign is hell bent on a misinformation strategy (viz bullshit about article 48 of the treaty, or about corporate taxes etc etc) because they don't have to win the debate (and patently can't on the facts): they simply have to depress turnout. And turnout is the key to understanding why Nice 1 failed: the no vote barely increased from previous referenda but the yes vote collapsed, falling by half from the Amsterdam Treaty.

So what will the Government do, beyond bellowing threats at the electorate? They will run the referendum on the rights of the child on the same day. This element in the strategy was mentioned here, reporting Bertie Ahern's reply to a question by Enda Kenny: "If possible I would like to honour the commitment we made on the children's rights referendum." It's not particularly edifying politics (regarding either Lisbon or the rights of the child) and the politics of ideas it certainly is not, but if the gambit of running multiple referendums achieves its end of producing a high turnout it would be very difficult for the Government to lose.

Chekist has had an interesting sequence (also here and here) on civic Unionism over on Three Thousand Verts of Loneliness that was picked up last month by United Irelander (with, for UI, a pretty interesting comments thread) and has timed its latest installment most appropriately for tonight. It's been an interesting series, probably more interesting than UI has allowed, but I do find it somewhat problematic.

On the specific level of the posts, I am suspicious of the robustness of the civic defence of Ulster Unionism.

I'm always astounded at the arguments, generally trotted out by reactionary sorts, that some dreadful comment or other is to be defended on freedom of speech grounds. I suppose it's a convenient strategy for the bullshitter. You know, why defend the indefensible when you can take umbrance at people questioning your freedom to speak? Best to ignore the fact that they're generally not questioning your entitlement to speak. They're generally questioning your honesty and your manners.

But still, the claim to a right to speech is fundamentally correct even if it's generally invoked by people who don't really care whether it's correct or not. One doesn't go around saying that people shouldn't be allowed say things simply because they're offensive. To be a little bit Millian, best to get it all out there, eh?

The serious problem with the 'free speech' distraction is that it tends to be used where no free speech exists. Although we may have a fundamental right to free speech, it's not an inalienable right. We can legitimately sign it away on a daily basis. Most notably, people's signing an employment contract either explicitly or implicitly involves their constraining their speech rights. In my profession, I can't start telling you what I think of my students, or what they got in their exams, or - as is the case in most jobs - my opinions of my colleagues, or myriad other things. If I did speak my employer would be well within their rights to fire me. I have contracted to remain silent where my private thoughts contradict a range of my employer's interests.

Of course, I can break the rules, but if I value my private thoughts so much that I can't abide by those rules, then I really ought to resign.

Well, you can see where I'm going with this. There is a ministerial code of conduct in Northern Ireland. Ministers sign it. And yet, when clever Ian Paisley Jnr announced last month that he finds what homosexuals get up to repulsive (why is it that some people spend so much time thinking about gay sex?) people trot out the free speech defence. David Vance asked if it is a crime for Paisley to say what he said, as if that's the question. Sam Hanna leaves a comment on Slugger attacking the 'bigots' that deny Paisley his rights to free expression. And on it goes. The debate came up again yesterday on Slugger, hence this post.

But this isn't about shutting down free speech. It's about the obligations that come with the job. Free speech only exists in the context of role, and when it comes to some roles (Paisley's and my own professions included), some public comments can never be made in a private capacity.

None of us are entirely free in the sense that the free speech defenders think. Or rather, there's an easy solution if one finds the constraints on speech that one has volunteered to adopt too much. Resign.

Well, so much has been written on Irish blogs about last week's election, with (amongst some dross) more excellent analyses than I could name here, marvellous titles and downright bitterness. And then there was the spectacular logistical and technical achievements of the Irish Election blog and Politics.ie (noticed across the Atlantic too).

Anyway, I really didn't have a huge emotional investment on the election: I wasn't particularly supporting any team, though the team I supported second-least won (more on the team I supported least below). I'm not convinced that a FG-Labour victory would have made an enormous difference to the country, even if I'm with Simon McGarr in thinking that 17 years out of 20 is more than enough for any political party, even if they are Ireland's version of Congress. And, despite what I said before, I do sometimes wonder what would happen if someone leaked photos of Bertie eating a puppy with one hand and personally poisoning our water with the other: Taoiseach for life, I'd say.

So, I'm neither pleased nor displeased in party disposition terms. That said, I do think that the history of the 29^th Dáil can tell us some highly discouraging things about the one we're about to have.