The morally superior cynics might not like it but Bertie Ahern made a real difference

But, predictably, many people chose to focus on less edifying aspects of his career. That’s natural enough. For many he is an amoral chancer.

Certainly, some of Ahern’s behaviour before he became taoiseach — such as his willingness to accept gifts from wealthy friends, his not having a bank account, his less-than-convincing explanations for these events in the tribunals he set up — must be addressed when we judge who was among the most significant political figures of his generation. As will his management of the economy.

Ahern was imperfect. He made mistakes. I doubt he made all those mistakes deliberately, and many of the mistakes are only obvious with the benefit of hindsight. His government’s fuelling of an overheating economy was a problem, but there was a broad consensus with that policy at the time. And Ahern can point to real, lasting achievements, not least in Northern Ireland.

But the unwillingness to celebrate politicians, however imperfect, is a sign of the effortlessly chic cynicism designed to say more about the moral superiority of the cynic and not the object of their ire.

I’m no expert but I’m fairly sure Seamus Heaney has published a few poor lines that he might not be proud of, just as Colin Farrell was in a few films that don’t stand the test of time.

Many artists have engaged in behaviour that is questionable, but until recently we’ve usually forgiven them that.

We remember the good things sports stars do, not the poor days. We all remember Packie Bonner’s save against Romania in Italia 1990, but we rightly don’t dwell on the goals he let in. And most of us can acknowledge the skill of a sports star, even if they play for a team we don’t like.

When we evaluate writers, artists and actors we tend to look at their best works and celebrate them for that. With politicians we do almost the direct opposite. They are judged on whatever we regard as their worst works.

This might be for good reason. When a political leader takes charge, they affect not just those who support them, but also those who oppose them and who have the leader’s actions imposed upon them.

If I don’t care for an artist’s works, I don’t have to look at them. I don’t care for Martin McDonagh’s films, but I can usually choose to ignore them. And I can certainly see and acknowledge his technical and artistic skill, even if his work is not for me.

But the cynical sneering at politicians who actually take the reins of government and make the inevitable compromises and their fair share of mistakes isn’t without cost.

If we expect politicians to be perfect we will always be disappointed and this will fuel popular despair. There is a danger to our democracy if sensible people look at politics and think, why would I put myself and my family in that firing line for little more than abuse?​

I don’t know anything about Bertie Ahern’s family life, but it’s not unreasonable to speculate that the breakup of his marriage was in part due to the pressures that politics puts on those directly involved and their families.

As someone who grew up in a political household it became normal that one of your parents was almost never there. But you didn’t get used to hearing criticism of your parent whether indirectly through the media or directly from someone who decides it’d be a good idea to tell you they think your father is a shit.

The recent retirement of a number of politicians in Ireland and elsewhere demonstrates the toll politics takes on those in it and on their families.

Anyone who has reached the top, such as Nicola Sturgeon or Jacinda Ardern, undoubtedly has high energy levels, but the fact that even they can reach burnout shows politics is not a carefree career.

It is tiresome that we have to regard all politicians through their flaws and failures. They, like the rest of us, all have them.

But it is also our duty to celebrate success, because to remind ourselves of those successes also reminds us that our current problems are not insurmountable.

Bertie Ahern was key to Ireland overcoming what once seemed an insurmountable problem. He deserves recognition and praise for his role, and DCU is right to celebrate him and his contribution.​

Eoin O’Malley teaches politics and policy at Dublin City University.