Áilín Quinlan: Shameful scenes at Lee tragedy make me fear for Irish society

That’s what stuck in my mind.
Among the crowd of bystanders - ordinary passers-by just like you and me, just like our friends, family, relatives, just like our hiking/golfing/drinking/cycling/book-club buddies – some were so desperately eager to film the last seconds of a struggling man’s life, but they never threw a lifebuoy.
The tragedy unfolded on a warm Wednesday evening after two men went swimming in the River Lee.
Both got into difficulties. As a burgeoning crowd looked on and some of them filmed, one man made it to safety. The other tragically drowned.
The Taoiseach has said, with characteristic restraint, that the incidences of people filming were a “very sad and regrettable feature of modern life”.
I would dare to go further.
I would shout ‘Shame’!
Whoever filmed the awful tragedy which culminated in the death of 33-year-old Luke Hyde should perhaps ask themselves some searching questions.
‘When did I become someone who would stand back and film such a scene?’
‘At what point in my life did I replace empathy and compassion with apathy?’
‘How have I reached a point where I would impassively film the struggles of a person in trouble rather than rush to his aid?
Lastly: ‘What did I want this footage for?’
Years ago, I saw an horrific report about a toddler in an Asian country who had run out on the road and been knocked down and thrown by one vehicle into the path of another and killed.
Nobody moved to help. Passers-by paused, held up their phones, and filmed a child being hit by one vehicle and then thrown into the path of another.
Nobody moved a finger to help.
And yet, last week, some onlookers stood along the banks of the River Lee holding up their phones while a tragedy played out.
I read a comment by a police officer in the Philippines that these days, “rather than helping, people opt to film those in need. Rather than help we are now conditioned to just watch and take no part.”
I read how Swedish police were outraged by members of the public who, far from rushing to help, stood filming the agony of a seriously injured woman who had been hit by a truck in Malmo.
“One might wonder what they want to keep those movies for,” an officer commented.
Victor Shine, Second Officer with the Cork Fire Brigade and a fire-fighter with 44 years’ experience, might be wondering much the same thing.
Victor spoke afterwards about how some people did not respect the cordoned off part of the scene by the Lee and encroached in it.
He said: “People were lifting the cordon and coming under it to get a better look — this type of thing is getting worse lately. In the past, people would have appreciated the cordon was there for a reason.”
Mr Shine’s words burned into my mind, “People today tend to video rather than render aid,” he said.
What happened in Cork city last week was on another level entirely.
This is not an isolated incident. Two years ago, looky-loos filmed the death of a teenager who drowned in a jet-ski accident in Killaloe, Co Clare. His foster mother was later horrified to see footage appear on TikTok.
I read a bit about the psychology behind this sort of behaviour. One expert said that people reach for their phones, not because of what goes through their minds when they see a crisis - but because of what doesn’t. In other words, this is mindless, auto-pilot behaviour.
Yeah, man. Great excuse.
Scientists also talk about the bystander effect, which means that in the presence of other people at a tragedy or crisis, many become avoidant and just freeze.
Although I imagine most of us think ourselves to be heroes-in-waiting, and if someone asked us if we’d help in a crisis, we believe we would instantly answer yes.
We might feel less responsible when there are other people around, or we might fear that people might unfavourably judge us for whatever we decide to do to try to help.
We might also convince ourselves that because nobody else is rushing in to help, maybe there’s no emergency after all. However, filming and taking footage of the scene seems to me to be on a different level.
To me, what happened in Cork city centre last Wednesday evening was shameful. It’s the writing on the wall for our famed Irish decency.