Why do so many Irish people think baptising their kids to get a school place is ok?
Today, I was a guest on Lunchtime Live on Newstalk, discussing a story that has, unfortunately, become all too familiar in Ireland. A mother had applied to enrol her twin boys in a Catholic secondary school, only to find that because they were not baptised, they were placed in the lowest priority category — effectively locking them out of a place. Her response? It was enough to prompt her to call the radio station, but once on air, she seemed more mildly disappointed than outraged, almost resigned to “playing the game.” and consider a quick baptism to secure a spot. And if not willing to play the game, accept that this game even exists!
The other callers echoed this sentiment. One caller talked about how she was raised without a religion and didn’t take part in it in primary school but then because the Catholic secondary school wouldn’t accept her place, she got a quick double Communion/Confirmation, as if this was an absolutely normal thing to do. Next was my pal, Brian Mooney, who, seemingly frustrated with the conversation, implied that the parent had knowingly chosen a Catholic education for her children’s first eight years and therefore should accept the enrolment rules. He suggested she “play the game,” arguing that this was simply how the system worked. As I listened to the whole interview unfold, it brought me back to 2016, when myself and others were talking about the very same issue for primary schools, treating the issue as a minor inconvenience rather than what it truly is: religious discrimination masquerading as standard enrolment policy.
As I sat there, listening to the casual acceptance of this practice, I grew increasingly agitated. There’s a prevailing attitude in Ireland that this is just the way things are — that if you want your child to get into a school, you do what you have to do. But let’s call this what it is: discrimination, plain and simple.
In no other context would we accept a requirement that parents profess a belief they do not hold in order to access a basic right. Imagine an employer demanding proof of religious adherence before offering someone a job. Imagine a hospital prioritising treatment based on baptismal status. The outcry would be immediate. And yet, when it comes to education — a fundamental right — this is not just tolerated but normalised. Can you imagine if it were some of the other grounds for discrimination? For example, can you imagine the uproar (and quite rightly) if a school said they prioritise non-Travellers over Travellers for enrollment? Can you imagine if a school prioritised white children over people of colour? However, when it comes to religion, it seems fair game.
Many will argue that the schools have a Catholic ethos and, therefore they should be allowed. This would be all well and good if they were private schools but these are schools that are 100% funded by the State. They are public schools. However, it’s still as astonishing to me that we have Catholic schools in the same way it would be astonishing to have “black” schools or “Traveller” schools.
The “play the game” mentality is deeply problematic. It suggests that a parent’s willingness to participate in a performative act of religious compliance is a reasonable expectation. But at what cost? What does it say about our commitment to genuine religious freedom when parents feel pressured to baptise their children for strategic, rather than spiritual, reasons? What message does it send to children when they learn that religious identity can be manipulated for practical gain?
Nobody benefits from this arrangement, including the Catholic Church, which struggles to sustain its sacramental services in a system where many participants engage out of a sense of shrugging shoulders rather than faith. With nearly 90% of schools under Catholic patronage and religious instruction taking up significant classroom time, the dwindling number of priests and active churchgoers highlights the failure of this model to inspire lasting religious commitment. Considering Ireland has almost 90% school under Catholic faith and provide faith formation to children for over two hours a week for eight years, the fact the system can hardly produce more than a handful of priests is simply poor planning.
There are those who argue that this is simply a reflection of Ireland’s Catholic school system, and that parents who object should simply send their children elsewhere. But when over 90% of schools remain under Catholic patronage, “elsewhere” is not always an option and nor should it be. Even if you still believe in school choice, despite the impossibility of it, the State has failed to provide a truly pluralistic education system, and as a result, non-religious families — or those from minority faiths — are left scrambling for places, often facing barriers that their Catholic counterparts do not.
The INTO has selected five teachers for a taskforce to make recommendations to the government on patronage. I applied to be part of the taskforce but wasn’t, according to the reason I was given, “drawn out of the hat” because that’s how seriously the game is being treated.
The Department of Education is supposed to be sending a survey out to parents because people’s right to a public education without discrimination should be something that is decided by a poll.
I could look on the bright side. At least it’s being talked about.
For me, this is not a game that we pontificate about as a minor inconvenience. It is a systemic issue that perpetuates inequality and forces families, teachers and school communities into ethically questionable decisions. Instead of bending to this reality, we should be demanding real change — and, if you’ve read most of my work recently, guess what it all comes down to? We need to get rid of the patronage system and come up with a better model. It’s time to stop playing games.
