Staff at Coimisiún na Meán, Ireland’s shiny new media watchdog
By – Ger Molloy – the Irish Channel
In what can only be described as a masterclass in political irony, local radio stations across Ireland are now being asked to dig deeper into their already strained pockets to fund the very body that may one day regulate them out of existence.
Yes, in a move that has gone down about as well as you’d expect, broadcasters have been blindsided by a proposed 39% increase in broadcasting levies, with industry figures warning the hike is not just steep — it’s “unsustainable.” Which, in plain English, means: this could break us.
But fear not. The money is going to a very noble cause.
It’s going to pay for the increasingly well-compensated guardians of truth at Coimisiún na Meán, Ireland’s shiny new media watchdog — or as some in the industry are beginning to mutter, the Government’s very own “sensor.”
And what a well-paid sensor it is.
According to figures highlighted by Niamh Uí Bhriain, the Executive Chair is pulling in a cool €264,378 per year, while four Commissioners each earn €198,711. That comfortably places them in the top 1% of earners in Ireland — not bad for a job centred around deciding what counts as “misinformation.”
Apparently, calling balls and strikes on public discourse is a growth industry.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, many local radio stations are operating on razor-thin margins, battling declining ad revenues, rising energy costs, and the slow but steady migration of audiences to digital platforms. These are not exactly flush organisations. Some are community-based, some are barely breaking even, and all of them are now expected to bankroll a regulatory structure that looks increasingly like a luxury project.
You can almost hear the boardroom conversations:
“Listen lads, revenues are down, costs are up, but the good news is we’re helping fund six-figure salaries for people who might fine us later.”
There’s something almost poetic about it.
The justification, of course, is that we are living in an age of “misinformation,” and something must be done. And who better to do it than a well-funded, well-staffed, and extremely well-paid state body?
But critics are starting to ask the obvious question: why are struggling local broadcasters footing the bill for this?
After all, these stations are not Silicon Valley tech giants. They’re not multinational media conglomerates. They are local voices — the ones covering parish events, local elections, GAA matches, and community issues. And yet, they are being asked to shoulder a disproportionate burden for a national regulatory agenda.
It’s a bit like asking your local café to fund a Michelin inspector.
And then there’s the optics. At a time when ordinary businesses are tightening belts, the idea of a publicly backed regulator offering salaries north of €200,000 does raise eyebrows — particularly when the output is, in essence, oversight of speech.
As Uí Bhriain pointedly noted, the “misinformation gig is lucrative for some folks.” That line alone probably stings more than any policy paper.
Of course, defenders of the system will argue that quality regulation requires quality people, and quality people command high salaries. Perhaps. But there is a difference between paying competitively and appearing completely detached from the financial realities of the sector you’re regulating.
And that’s where the real tension lies.
Local radio stations aren’t just annoyed — they’re worried. Worried that this is the start of a broader trend where compliance costs rise, margins shrink further, and the viability of independent local media is quietly eroded.
All while funding a watchdog that, depending on your perspective, is either protecting the public… or policing it.
Either way, one thing is clear:
In modern Ireland, the cost of being heard is going up — and the people paying for it aren’t the ones setting the rules.