When Duncan Hall, the advertising features editor, was handed the assignment to compile the traditional end-of-the-year review in The Royal Gazette he may not have realised the challenge ahead.

That he crafted such a varied and informative section was commendable as 2015 was remarkable for its lack of what we would call “hard news”.

To a large extent it was a year of indifference. There was little to get excited about and not too much to groan about.

The same-sex marriage debate, the scathing report by Heather Jacobs Matthews, the Auditor-General, on the way taxpayers’ money has been spent and the implementation of Pati (Public Access to Information) which in years to come is sure to produce reams of newsworthy copy, could be regarded as the stories that stirred most interest.

The announcement in 2014 that Bermuda would host the America’s Cup in 2017 created a buzz and there was little to compare in the last year.

Many of the yachtsmen have already set up shop in the West End, and October’s Louis Vuitton America’s Cup World Series — a precursor to the final — gave a glimpse of what can be expected 18 months from now.

Perhaps significant was the way residents responded to the street party held in conjunction with the Series. It virtually overshadowed the regatta as an estimated 10,000 people filled Front Street.

More of the same might pique the interest of those who still aren’t convinced of the America’s Cup benefits.

Aside of all of the above, the year has passed without the emergence of a character who stands out in the crowd — one who can inspire, influence or change the country’s mood.

That task should fall into the lap of our politicians. Politics is as much about personalities as it is policy.

Over the years we’ve had a stream of insightful statesmen; figures mired in controversy; rebels who cared not too much about public opinion; intellects who could sway people’s way of thinking; and simply colourful characters who possessed the charisma that could lift spirits and raise a chuckle.

Now they are in short of supply, maybe extinct.

Political correctness seems to be the order of the day, as tiresome as it is.

Turning the clock back, we had the rebellious Harry Viera who was anything but politically correct.

Bored by debate in the House, he once nipped down to the basement, removed the fuse and plunged the chamber into darkness.

“As they all seem to operate in the dark, maybe I’ve done them a favour,” he mused.

He was suitably admonished but applauded by those who concurred with his assessment.

These days Government would likely order a commission of inquiry.

Harry was found by police possessing a firearm “for my own protection”.

It’s unlikely he would have used it but then again he didn’t take fools lightly.

He’d regularly call reporters to chat about nothing in particular, but was a source of enormous entertainment if nothing else.

A character of a different ilk was Julian Hall, an eloquent lawyer who switched from the United Bermuda Party to the Progressive Labour Party (PLP) and whose oratorical skills were unmatched either in court or the House. Controversial and combative, he was nevertheless admired for his ability to change the flow of debate in his favour.

Lois Browne Evans, a firebrand MP of the PLP, was similarly fearless and intellectually sharp.

She could raise the roof when speaking over the issues she believed in but could be charming and charismatic outside the House.

Such passion was shared by Sir Jack Sharpe, a former premier, who would ride to the Cabinet office on his blue mobylette, persuasive but rarely antagonistic.

Sir John Swan, premier in the 80s, always made himself accessible to the public, as he still does, shaking hands as he walks through streets, always prepared to listen and share people’s problems.

These are the characters whom Bermuda has missed in the political circle.

We have a void which nobody seems be able to fill.

And there’s no one visible on the horizon.