Barbara Schwepcke

2025 HUBERT BUTLER ESSAY PRIZE AWARD SPEECH

“I was reading this year’s entries to the Hubert Butler Essay Prize wearing two pairs of spectacles: one pair was that of a publisher, who once was a journalist, born in Germany, studied in the United States and now lives in the UK; and the other that of the founder of a charity, which deals with conflict in the Middle East and whose pride and joy is an interfaith fellowship. Both pairs of spectacles mean that I read the submitted essays in a different way to my learned fellow judges, who are steeped in Irish tradition and the knowledge of Hubert Butler’s oeuvre.   

“The journalist in me had expected this year’s submissions to deal with the debate in- and outside the Westminster Parliament about what is officially called the ‘Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill’, otherwise known as the ‘Assisted Dying’ or ‘Assisted Suicide Bill’ depending on where you stand in the debate. Looking across the pond I had expected an essay on the Supreme Court’s decision to repeal Roe v. Wade, which for almost 50 years had enshrined national abortion rights in the constitution, and on the man who had made this decision possible, who is now the President of the United States. I had expected some serious reflections on Catherine Corless’ grim discovery of 800 children who had died at the former Bon Secours Mother and Baby Home in Tuam, County Galway, and had been buried in a mass grave in a disused underground sewage system. I had even expected this year’s essayists to drag Shakespeare’s words into the 21st century and ask what children ‘must endure / Their going hence [killed by starvation or bullets], even as their coming hither [born in a warzone]’. I had expected to be shocked, moved, appalled. The publisher in me, however, looked for something more, something unexpected, something that would rattle me and shake me out of the increasingly complacent, almost complicit stupor of the one who thinks she has heard it all before; the publisher in me looked for the arresting phrase, the paragraph I wanted to read again, the memorable conclusion.

“In the end all four of we judges, Professors Nicholas Grene and Roy Foster as well as Catriona Crowe and I, agreed on the winner and the two runners-up very quickly. All three essays deal with The Body: Aoife Breathnach explores the question of what happens to the body after death, while Adam Charles Smith’s essay starts with a billionaire’s obsession with fighting the inevitable ageing of his body. Our winning essayist talks about the body of a brain – “the cadaveric incubator” – now here is a phrase which startled me!  

“In these grim times essayists should be our collective conscience. They should put their finger on the wound, even if it hurts. They should speak up for those who can’t. They should not stay silent. Being silent means being complicit. “… silence did not help me … It became increasingly difficult to be silent.” There it was! Hubert Butler’s famous quote, speaking up against “another historical silence, when atrocities in Yugoslavia went unmentioned because naming them would mean naming our own complicity,” as our winning essayist Stephanie O’Connor puts it. “We must speak with clarity and compassion about where medicine, law, and human dignity intersect – and where they diverge.” Clarity and compassion – these two words stood out to me. And they reminded me of the words of Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th reincarnation of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara, the Buddha of Compassion: “Since the purpose of a reincarnation is to carry on the work of the predecessor, the new Dalai Lama will be born in the free world so that the traditional mission of the Dalai Lama — that is, to be the voice for universal compassion … — will continue.”

“This statement reminded me of when an arrogantly precocious journalist trainee of the Sueddeutsche Zeitung interviewed His Holiness and asked him to explain reincarnation to the readers of that paper. His answer was a beautiful parable, which he asked the young(ish) reporter to spread like a consoling balm on any grieving heart she would encounter in the future. And it dealt with the two thresholds of life, birth and death, which make up the theme of this year’s Hubert Butler Essay Prize in a surprising way, in a way one wouldn’t expect from “a simple Buddhist monk” as the Dalai Lama calls himself, and definitely not in the fatalistic way Edgar expresses with the words to his father: “Men must endure / Their going hence, even as their coming hither”. The Dalai Lama’s words then were expressed with clarity and compassion, the two words which stood out for me in the winning essay.

“His Holiness smiled and said: “It’s very simple. Imagine a lit candle. The flame is perfect, it illuminates its surrounding, it is hot. And then with that candle you light another one and blow out the first. The flame is the same: it is perfect, it illuminates its surrounding, it is hot. That is reincarnation! Call it the eternal soul. Or the divine spark which is in all of us. It is immortal, unchanging.” 

“His Holiness’ words now, on the occasion of his 90th birthday, deal with agency at the heart of the subject of this year’s prize: ‘Have we no more active rights over life, birth and death?’

“And so does our prize-winner. Stephanie O’Connor holds a degree in Biology from the University of Ulster, Coleraine, and a MSc in Healthcare Ethics and Law from RCSI. She is therefore well qualified to ask the all-important question: ‘just because we can act, does it mean we should?’

“Ms O’Connor is a Research Officer at the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland (RCSI), where she supports researchers applying for competitive grant funding. Her career began at the US Naval Blood Research Laboratory at Boston University, where she spent nearly a decade supporting cutting-edge transfusion medicine research. After returning to Ireland, she spent another ten years managing a clinical trial lab, Biosys Clinical Ltd, deepening her understanding of the day-to-day challenges of managing clinical trials. This experience will have informed her choice of Hubert Butler quotes: “Science has enormously extended the sphere of our responsibilities, while our consciences have remained the same.” Which lead Stephanie O’Connor to ask what is to me the prize-winning question: ‘Is there a point at which the machinery of law must yield to the compassion of humanity, where rigid adherence gives way to moral judgement grounded not in statutes, but in empathy, respect, and care?’ and answer with clarity and compassion: ‘It is in this space – between what the law allows and what decency demands – that our truest responsibilities begin.’ Stephanie O’Connor feels passionate about this space. And her essay invites us all to explore it with her, to be challenged by her words, be moved by her compassion, and to break our silence. Congratulations on winning the 2025 Hubert Butler Prize!”

Barbara Schwepcke, Kilkenny, 9th August 2025