For a man who had a heart attack a few days before, First Minister Peter Robinson looked in pretty rude health when interviewed at the Irish Open Golf last week.

You’ve got to say, Robinson is the local version of “The Comeback Kid”, the film character who was a down and out baseball player who finds a new zest for life when he starts coaching underprivileged kids. His critics have had Robinson down and out on a number of occasions, not least at the time of his personal problems in “Irisgate”, his unfortunate comments about Muslims, other political controversies and the general pressure of mandatory coalition with a party that his own colleagues won’t even speak to.

There’s been speculation for a while that the First Minister’s days are numbered, but he’s still there. Whether, like the original Comeback Kid, he returns with a new zeal to sort out problems is another matter.

His ill-health last week produced some debate about how much we should know about our politicians; with some media commentators arguing that the public, through them, had a right to know more about the situation we found ourselves in as a result of his hospitalisation.

I’m all for the “people’s right to know”, but felt this was a bit of a manufactured controversy. I suppose I have to admit I’d have liked to have known as bit more about Mr. Robinson’s condition, but that’s just nosiness on my behalf. What interests the public isn’t always in the public interest, and on this occasion the First Minister was entitled to a bit of privacy.

And anyway, we’re not talking the president of the United States here when the world doesn’t know whose finger is hovering on the nuclear trigger. It’s not as if Peter Robinson’s absence was going to bring Stormont to a grinding halt; they manage to engage in stalemate very well whether he’s there or not, it’s like some cultural osmosis.

Yes, perhaps someone in the DUP leadership could have issued a statement briefly asking for privacy and saying that his Executive colleagues will continue to take decisions collectively until he returns. Which proved to be only days.

That’s the point, though. The DUP isn’t a party that will dance to the media’s tune. And the events of last week say a lot about the relationships between politicians and the press in Northern Ireland.

It’s hardly world shattering to say that across the world, the press and politicians have a difficult relationship. We inhabit the same world, but have very different roles.

Let’s be honest, right from the early days of the Paisley party, the DUP made clear their dislike for the press. And they haven’t lost it; we’re often lectured about not reporting good news. Gregory Campbell and Sammy Wilson would love to nobble the BBC – nothing to do, of course, with the Corporation’s investigative journalism, the latest example of which left the party’s treatment of Councillor Jenny Palmer exposed as cold and cynical.

In fact, that sorry escapade only served to show the astonishing lack of accountability that exists in the creaking Stormont system.

They’re not the only party, of course. More recently, we hear of members of Sinn Fein criticise negativity in the press. I also heard loyalists respond this week to claims by the Chief Constable about criminality by blaming the “sensationalist and negative media”; one had the nerve to say that the media had made “loyalist” a dirty word.

And the “whataboutery” reaction to the Panorama programme which found evidence of serious State collusion in deaths was interesting; some could scarcely hide their disgust at the very fact this scandal was reported and wanted instead more investigative reporting on the activities of the IRA – as if, somehow, that was never done.

And yet, in some ways we journalists are similar to the politicians, in that we are also precious about ourselves and don’t like criticism.

Some journalists were miffed that Peter Robinson took to Twitter to reveal he’d been discharged from hospital, taking that as a sign of his disrespect to them.

Aside from the fact that personally I think politicians, or indeed anyone, would get more purchase by using mainstream media which people still find more credible, I think Mr. Robinson is perfectly entitled to use Twitter as a medium.

We all need to realise the massive changes to communication. Twenty years ago, about one per cent of the world’s population had a mobile phone; today, it is estimated that between five and six billion people have them.

The good journalists have adapted and embraced the new order and use it to perform their role to challenge those in authority. The good politicians are those who accept that a free press is vital to a healthy democracy.

Sometimes, both politicians and journalists forget the people they are working for. Some big beasts in my profession get carried away and think THEY are the most important part of the story; but if I have any advice for young journalists, it’s to remember that they are a conduit for getting information to people. And if you have to annoy politicians or anybody else to do that, well tough. In fact, if you haven’t managed to get up some politician’s nose at some point, you’re probably not doing your job.

Not all journalists are so precious it has to be said. From my experience in Northern Ireland we have many fine, professional journalists of integrity. Investigative journalists here provide the public with a great service in bringing murky matters to light.

And too many politicians are so wrapped up in their world that they lose sight of the reason they went into the game in the first place. Public service, remember? Making a difference to people’s lives, making society better. And yes, there are plenty of politicians who haven’t forgotten that either.

The friction between the press and politicians is a fact of life; but that’s good for democracy.

For a man who had a heart attack a few days before, First Minister Peter Robinson looked in pretty rude health when interviewed at the Irish Open Golf last week.

You’ve got to say, Robinson is the local version of “The Comeback Kid”, the film character who was a down and out baseball player who finds a new zest for life when he starts coaching underprivileged kids. His critics have had Robinson down and out on a number of occasions, not least at the time of his personal problems in “Irisgate”, his unfortunate comments about Muslims, other political controversies and the general pressure of mandatory coalition with a party that his own colleagues won’t even speak to.

There’s been speculation for a while that the First Minister’s days are numbered, but he’s still there. Whether, like the original Comeback Kid, he returns with a new zeal to sort out problems is another matter.

His ill-health last week produced some debate about how much we should know about our politicians; with some media commentators arguing that the public, through them, had a right to know more about the situation we found ourselves in as a result of his hospitalisation.

I’m all for the “people’s right to know”, but felt this was a bit of a manufactured controversy. I suppose I have to admit I’d have liked to have known as bit more about Mr. Robinson’s condition, but that’s just nosiness on my behalf. What interests the public isn’t always in the public interest, and on this occasion the First Minister was entitled to a bit of privacy.

And anyway, we’re not talking the president of the United States here when the world doesn’t know whose finger is hovering on the nuclear trigger. It’s not as if Peter Robinson’s absence was going to bring Stormont to a grinding halt; they manage to engage in stalemate very well whether he’s there or not, it’s like some cultural osmosis.

Yes, perhaps someone in the DUP leadership could have issued a statement briefly asking for privacy and saying that his Executive colleagues will continue to take decisions collectively until he returns. Which proved to be only days.

That’s the point, though. The DUP isn’t a party that will dance to the media’s tune. And the events of last week say a lot about the relationships between politicians and the press in Northern Ireland.

It’s hardly world shattering to say that across the world, the press and politicians have a difficult relationship. We inhabit the same world, but have very different roles.

Let’s be honest, right from the early days of the Paisley party, the DUP made clear their dislike for the press. And they haven’t lost it; we’re often lectured about not reporting good news. Gregory Campbell and Sammy Wilson would love to nobble the BBC – nothing to do, of course, with the Corporation’s investigative journalism, the latest example of which left the party’s treatment of Councillor Jenny Palmer exposed as cold and cynical.

In fact, that sorry escapade only served to show the astonishing lack of accountability that exists in the creaking Stormont system.

They’re not the only party, of course. More recently, we hear of members of Sinn Fein criticise negativity in the press. I also heard loyalists respond this week to claims by the Chief Constable about criminality by blaming the “sensationalist and negative media”; one had the nerve to say that the media had made “loyalist” a dirty word.

And the “whataboutery” reaction to the Panorama programme which found evidence of serious State collusion in deaths was interesting; some could scarcely hide their disgust at the very fact this scandal was reported and wanted instead more investigative reporting on the activities of the IRA – as if, somehow, that was never done.

And yet, in some ways we journalists are similar to the politicians, in that we are also precious about ourselves and don’t like criticism.

Some journalists were miffed that Peter Robinson took to Twitter to reveal he’d been discharged from hospital, taking that as a sign of his disrespect to them.

Aside from the fact that personally I think politicians, or indeed anyone, would get more purchase by using mainstream media which people still find more credible, I think Mr. Robinson is perfectly entitled to use Twitter as a medium.

We all need to realise the massive changes to communication. Twenty years ago, about one per cent of the world’s population had a mobile phone; today, it is estimated that between five and six billion people have them.

The good journalists have adapted and embraced the new order and use it to perform their role to challenge those in authority. The good politicians are those who accept that a free press is vital to a healthy democracy.

Sometimes, both politicians and journalists forget the people they are working for. Some big beasts in my profession get carried away and think THEY are the most important part of the story; but if I have any advice for young journalists, it’s to remember that they are a conduit for getting information to people. And if you have to annoy politicians or anybody else to do that, well tough. In fact, if you haven’t managed to get up some politician’s nose at some point, you’re probably not doing your job.

Not all journalists are so precious it has to be said. From my experience in Northern Ireland we have many fine, professional journalists of integrity. Investigative journalists here provide the public with a great service in bringing murky matters to light.

And too many politicians are so wrapped up in their world that they lose sight of the reason they went into the game in the first place. Public service, remember? Making a difference to people’s lives, making society better. And yes, there are plenty of politicians who haven’t forgotten that either.

The friction between the press and politicians is a fact of life; but that’s good for democracy.