Ardnacrusha is an ecological catastrophe that has devastated the Shannon and its salmon

In 2000, I had the fortune to spend time with the late TK Whitaker, the civil servant who, in 1958, put his name to a revolutionary plan to regenerate Ireland’s stagnant economy by dismantling protectionism and embracing internationalisation, in an attempt to stem the tide of young people who were emigrating in search of a better future.

But I wasn’t in his house to talk about economic expansionism; instead, I wanted to hear his thoughts about the alarming contraction of Atlantic salmon populations in Ireland’s rivers. Whitaker was a staunch believer in governments taking radical measures to safeguard the salmon’s future. A keen angler since childhood, he spent decades trying to persuade policymakers to take seriously the imminent threats to the magnificent species he loved.

He spoke emphatically about the importance of politicians following scientific advice – “We cannot neglect the facts,” he later told an Oireachtas committee – and the folly of governments continuing to underestimate the decline and allow its continued exploitation, resulting in the deaths of more than 200,000 salmon each year.

But Irish governments were more than able to ignore the facts. In 2005, scientists told the then marine minister, Pat the Cope Gallagher, that the total number of salmon to be commercially exploited should not exceed 97,000 fish. Offered an opportunity to act in the face of vested interests, Gallagher instead told the Dáil that “there remains an abundance of salmon returning to Irish rivers” and set a quota of 42,000 salmon above what was recommended.

Instead of bold action in the face of rapidly dwindling populations, consecutive governments have sanctioned the plundering of the salmon and continue to tolerate the pollution and fragmentation of their waters. Whitaker used two words to describe their approach to managing salmon stocks: it was, he said, both “complacent” and “tentative”. Restrained yet precise, these words describe what you are when, frankly, you just don’t give a damn.

I was thinking of Whitaker and the years he spent urging the powers that be to care while reading Patsy Peril’s new memoir, Swimming Upstream (O’Brien’s Press). Peril’s book intertwines a moving account of his upbringing in the small Limerick fishing community of Coonagh on the Shannon, with the story of how the pioneering hydroelectric station at Ardnacrusha, built in 1929, has caused the near extinction of salmon on the river.

Within a decade of construction, the power plant supplied 87 per cent of Ireland’s electricity demand, which was an immense achievement for a fledgling, independent state. But as rural electrification was lighting up Ireland, the source of energy was casting a dark shadow over the future of salmon, heralding their disappearance. Ardnacrusha is an ecological catastrophe of historic magnitude that has devastated the Shannon and the life in it. For salmon, Peril notes, “it wreaked absolute havoc … from the very start”.

Peril is now in his 80s and his book is his last-hope attempt at imploring us to rescue the salmon. “Time,” he writes, “is rapidly running out”. “If we continue along our current path, it will not be long before it is gone, and with it, a profound link between us, the natural environment around us and our most remote human ancestors”.

Dealing with the many factors threatening salmon at sea is complex – but not impossible. For the salmon that return to Irish rivers to breed, solutions are within our reach and authority. We can act to ensure their survival and reproduction.

Peril correctly argues all fishing for wild salmon should cease. In 2022, Inland Fisheries Ireland reported the wild salmon population as 171,700, yet that same year they licensed catching of 10,348 salmon. Now the species is red-listed and facing extinction. It’s inexplicable that the Irish authorities continue to sanction their demise.

Peril’s greatest hope for altering the salmon’s bleak trajectory in Ireland is to decommission Ardnacrusha. Today, up to 90 per cent of the flow of the river Shannon is diverted to the power station, all to produce about 2 per cent of Ireland’s electricity. It comes at a time when the future of clean energy for the ESB is in wind and solar, not hydropower. For Peril, the same vision that led to the building of this iconic power station, one of the State’s greatest public triumphs, needs now to be harnessed differently to benefit nature. As long as Ardnacrusha is in operation, the Shannon and its salmon will never recover.

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When I met Whitaker, he predicted that salmon stocks would virtually disappear within a decade or so. Climate change has hastened the emergency; Whitaker’s beloved river Boyne is now heating up to a degree beyond which it may be impossible for the remaining salmon to survive.

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And yet, all is not lost. Focusing on wild salmon makes sense; what’s good for salmon is good for the health of habitats and many other species. We need a radical vision in line with what Whitaker did for our economy and what politicians such as Dr Noël Browne and Donogh O’Malley achieved for our health service and education system; in short, we need courage and leadership – a Whitaker plan for nature, fit for the 21st century.