The golden goose and the shipping container

We are witnessing a particular species of Irish government farce unfolding in the grey corridors of Leinster House where millions of taxpayers' money evaporates. At the same time, Irish pensioners are hauled before judges for the crime of existing on their own land. It's the sort of tragicomedy that would be hilarious if it weren't quite so obscene. We've perfected the art of the double standard, elevated it to a kind of national sport, complete with referees who look the other way and a rulebook that applies only to those who can't afford to ignore it.

The Comptroller and Auditor General's report on IPAS accommodation reads more like a treasure map for opportunists than a financial audit. There was €7.4 million overcharged in VAT by a single provider using three different VAT numbers. We need to think about that for a moment. Three VAT numbers. It's not accounting; it's theatrical invention. The sort of nefarious creative enterprise that would get you a prison sentence anywhere else with functioning oversight.

While the Department of Justice scrambles to recover these millions - €1.5m clawed back, the rest still "under review" with all the urgency of a tortoise contemplating retirement - an elderly couple in Roscommon faces daily fines of €800 for living in a converted shipping container on two acres they actually own. Malcolm Farrell, aged 78, spent his €8,000 Winning Streak bonanza to make himself a home. It's a sum that wouldn't go too far in an IPAS centre. Malcolm and his wife, Michelle, have been there since 2018, modestly living off the grid with solar panels and rainwater harvesting, causing absolutely no bother to anyone.

But a rigid local council wants them gone, they've no planning permission, a grievous offence for a naive pensioner. In official Ireland, it's unacceptable to have people living on their own property without the proper paperwork. Poor Malcolm believed the land, which previously had a house on it, wouldn't require permission. In the interim they've applied for retention and social housing and their applications are gathering dust in some bureaucrat's pending tray. The law is the law, except, apparently, when it isn't.

It may be stating the obvious but while Malcolm and Michelle face homelessness "on the side of the road," the government is building 2,000 rapid-build homes for Ukrainian refugees for €300 million. And no planning permission required. The very thing that could see a pensioner fined into oblivion doesn't apply when the optics are right and the EU is watching.

I'm not suggesting we shouldn't help Ukrainians fleeing war. However, the grotesque disparity in how we treat people reveals everything about who matters and who doesn't in modern Ireland. Ukrainian families receive purpose-built homes, with no planning obstacles and full state support; vulnerable Irish pensioners get court dates and the letter of the law.

Mary Lou McDonald - and you know things are desperate when Sinn Féin starts to sound appealing - called the behaviour of some of these IPAS operators as "cowboy stuff". She is being unusually generous. At least the cowboys had some behavioral codes but this is more feral than that. One accommodation provider, formerly running a café, paid its two deserving director's €4.6 million last year. Three years earlier, that same company made a profit of €2,092. If you wrote it as a screenplay, Netflix would reject it as too outrageous.

The report examined just 20 properties out of 326 centres, and that ratio bears examination. Twenty properties were discussed, and they found signed contracts for only ten, proof of ownership for half, planning documentation for ten, and fire certification for nine. In one case, the state was making payments "on non-contractual terms". That's not administration; that's a handshake deal down the pub elevated to government policy.

Private operators were charging a modest €92 per night per person, while state-owned accommodation cost €34. That's not market rate or even mild exploitation; it's a gold rush for the opportunistic. Justice Minister Jim O'Callaghan, defending the indefensible with the gimlet-eyed determination of a man who knows he's lost the room, claims the average nightly cost has been "renegotiated down" to €71. From over a €100, he says, as if we should applaud. That's still more than double the state rate. At that price point, you'd expect turndown service and a mint on the pillow.

The monumentally unsupervised system grew from 78 centres in 2017 to 324 in 2025. Annual expenditure ballooned from €129 million to €1 billion. That's not a crisis response; that's an industry. And like any industry, it has its winners. The losers? Five thousand people who remain in IPAS accommodation despite having been granted leave to remain. They're stuck in limbo while providers collect their nightly fees. It's the Irish solution to an Irish problem: create a permanent temporary arrangement and monetise the misery.

The overseers of IPAS didn't routinely verify VAT on invoices. They didn't check the financial stability of providers. Pre-contracting requirements were "incomplete in many instances". The standard requirements of insurance certification, ownership evidence, and planning permission were all treated as optional extras rather than fundamental prerequisites. This isn't incompetence because incompetence implies effort; this is wilful negligence dressed up as emergency measures.

O'Callaghan's defence - that the surge in asylum seekers from 7,683 in 2019 to 32,700 last year - put pressure on the system holds water like a colander. Pressure explains why corners are cut, deadlines are missed, and perhaps even some initial chaos. It doesn't explain systematic failure to implement basic financial controls. It doesn't justify paying contractors who can't prove they own the properties they're leasing. It doesn't explain tolerating VAT fraud to the tune of millions.

The really offensive part isn't even the waste, though God knows that's galling enough when hospital trolleys are full and housing lists are biblical. It's the assumption that we're too thick to notice the double standard. Malcolm Farrell faces losing everything for the sin of self-reliance. IPAS contractors reap substantial benefits from state largesse while providing documentation that wouldn't pass muster at a car boot sale.

HIQA inspections found two centres not providing baby formula, sanitary products, nappies, or wipes as required by national standards. Basic human necessities. But those contracts kept paying out. Meanwhile, the Farrells have a vegetable garden and goats, living the most sustainable, self-sufficient existence imaginable, and they're the ones in court.

The symbolism is almost too perfect. An elderly couple, living on land they own, using resources they've harvested themselves, threatened with homelessness by a state that simultaneously writes blank cheques to providers who may or may not own the buildings they're operating, may or may not have planning permission, may or may not be committing fraud, but definitely are getting paid.

Holly Cairns of the Social Democrats warned that the government hasn't learned from past mistakes. She's being optimistic. Learning implies a desire to improve. This looks more like a feature than a bug. The system works perfectly for those it's designed to serve and that's not the asylum seekers, and it's undoubtedly not Irish citizens needing homes.

Some 100 contracts were renegotiated to save €50 million, O'Callaghan boasts. Are we expected to extend congratulations on recovering a fraction of what shouldn't have been paid in the first place? It's like celebrating finding your car after someone stole it, minus the tyres and engine.

The 20 properties examined by the Comptroller and Auditor General revealed a staggering level of dysfunction. We can only imagine what a complete audit would uncover so it's probably better for our collective mental health that we don't know. Besides, we can't afford another audit, too busy as we are paying €92 a night for accommodation that we can't verify exists in buildings that we can't prove are owned by the people we're paying.

Malcolm and Michelle Farrell will likely lose their home, providing a nice opportunity for an enterprising IPAS provider to buy the land, set up a centre without planning permission under emergency provisions, and then charge the state €100 per night per resident. And we'll all pretend this is normal. Perhaps the real scandal is not that it happened, but that we've stopped being outraged.