I’ve made up my mind, and it seems like an easy decision. I cannot, in good faith, deny an Irish person from doing what he or she wants just because of a part of his or her identity that he or she cannot change. I’m voting Yes in the Presidential Referendum.

It’s a strange vote. One that’s been deemed so irrelevant to the Irish electorate that the national media has all but completely ignored its existence. On May 22^nd, you’re going to step inside a polling booth, where X marks the spot of constitutional change. If you’re really pissed off about water charges, you might even draw a penis, but I’ll leave that up to you. Regardless, when you take up that pen to vote, you’ll be asked to make a choice about whether or not you believe someone who has reached the age of 21 can run to become President.

There will never be an Irish President aged 21. No Irish electorate will ever vote in somebody that young. No Irish political party will ever back a candidate that young. This referendum is almost certainly doomed to fail. You shouldn’t let it.

It’s almost unfair, really, that most of the country’s polling stations are set up in primary schools. When you’re weighing up a question of age and maturity, you’ll be standing in a room surrounded by tiny desks you may have once sat at. How are you supposed to bring to mind a young presidential candidate of such exceptional calibre and individual talents that could actually sway the electorate to vote for him or her when you’re staring at a wall bedecked with the same 30 pictures of Elsa from Frozen?

Stop. Take a moment to let it go and remember that you are not voting for a candidate, you are voting for a detail. You’re going to be putting your vote into the ballot box, not into a birthday card.

As it stands now, in order to be eligible to run for the Irish Presidency, the very first hurdles you have to get over are your nationality and your birthday. Don’t have an Irish passport with the right DOB? Then your candidacy is DOA. 35 is, arbitrarily, the magic number, as laid out in our 1937 constitution. Though to be more exacting of the details, we should really be saying tríocha a cúig. Details are very important, you see, as the English-language version of the Bunreacht actually states that anyone who’s reached his 35^th year, still wet behind the ears at 34 years of age, will do. The Irish version takes precedent, buíochas le Dia.

The Magic Number

The closer in age a person is to that magic number, the less significance it has. How much more life experience and stateliness does someone have at 35 than, say, 34 and-a-half? It’s a meaningless distinction, but one enshrined in the constitution, completely and utterly needlessly.

Of course, when you stretch the same logic to people in their 20s, it’s easy to dismiss someone younger as being unable. Too naive, too green, too inexperienced. Certainly too immature. Lacking the necessary gravitas to represent the country on the world stage. How could some nameless 20-something, an abstract cipher, possibly compare to warmth and charisma, the compassion and legal comprehension of a Michael D or Marys Mc and R?

And that’s why the referendum is unfair, because you’re not voting for a person, you’re just voting for a detail. It’s easy to look at the previous Presidents in awe and admiration, because they are actual people. They had the chance to earn your vote – even if six of them were elected without any opponents, because, you know, democracy. They stood behind a podium, and engaged in debate. They had an opportunity to defend their political ideologies, regardless of the almost entirely apolitical nature of the position.

But again, you’re not voting for a candidate here, you’re voting on an insignificant aspect of one. And nobody in the government that proposed this amendment is fleshing out that detail.

"Niall Horan for the Áras? I think it’s fair to say we know the one direction those opinion polls are going..."

It’s impossible to imagine voting for someone in their 20s for President, because nobody in their 20s is running for President. And so, in the little debate there has been, the media toss starlets and pop-stars at you, like the Romans did Christians to lions. It’s incredibly patronising. Niall Horan for the Áras? I think it’s fair to say we know the one direction those opinion polls are going. I mean, how could one of the most recognisable faces on the planet, beloved and admired by millions really ever hope to widen the global reach of the country, smiling and waving and spreading the message of the warmth of the Irish people, across the world stage?

Jedward? They couldn’t even get music fans of dubious taste to vote for them on two separate occasions. And could you imagine the ignominy of having a Eurovision entrant, who twice failed to win the popular vote of the people, running for president? It beggars belief.

Then there’s the cynical complaint that this change isn’t the one that we need right now. It isn’t cynical because it’s untrue – everyone agrees that there are many other valid proposals made by the Constitutional Convention that would have made for a more engaging and significant referendum option. It's almost as if a cowardly government, uncertain which way an angry electorate will go, is offering up a fattened goat for sacrifice to the furious gods of protest voters.

This is the change that we have been offered, and if you think this isn’t the right kind of change, then you still have the right to change your government the next time around. Don't cut off the nose of younger citizens to spite the face of the cabinet.

If the 35^thamendment, rather fittingly the one to amend the age of 35, passes, it will be next to impossible for a 21-year-old candidate to get on the ticket. He or she will need to first convince at least 20 of the 226 members of the Oireachtas to back his or her campaign. Failing that, four of the country’s 34 city or town councils.

If a 20-something candidate can do that, and that is a considerable if, shouldn’t you at least listen to his or her arguments before you inevitably reject them?

We live in a republic, but not one that cherishes all of its children equally. Some of us have more rights than others. Voting yes in this referendum does not hand the keys of Áras an Uachtaráin to someone in their 20s. Voting yes just leaves the keys under the doormat.