What is democracy in a post-shame world
In 1998, Ron Davies, the Secretary of State for Wales, was mugged at knifepoint while out on a date. The date was extramarital. The date was with a man. The now-defunct News of the World had the story. He stood down several days later.
In 2006, Mark Oaten, Home Affairs Spokesman of the Liberal Democrats was outed by the News of the World following several nights with male sex workers. He stood down several days later.
For decades, personal scandals were a major threat to politicians. MPs had to be squeaky clean, or at least very clever, to prevent embarassment for the party. The higher standard was important for the leaders of our nation.
In 2004, Beverly Hughes, minister for Immigration, Citizenship and Counter Terrorism, was found to have buried information about procedural improprieties in her office. She had previously told commons that she would of course act on any such information. She resigned as minister.
In 2012, Chris Huhne, Secretary of State for Energy and Climate Change, was found to have perverted the course of justice over a speeding fine. He resigned.
As we moved into the information age, political scandals moved from the realm of the broadsheet, past the tabloid, and onto the internet. We demanded standards from our politicians and began to see consequences for their actions.
Then something went wrong.
The rise of the far right came with the erosion of shame. Politicians would say whatever they wanted to whip up a frenzy among their supporters, pandering to the most vile element. As the UK watched the insanity of the Obama "birthers", we were sure it could not happen here.
Brexit proved this belief false. Farage launched his Nazi-echoing anti-immigration attack ads. Johnson and Gove had their knives-out spat for all to see. Theresa May considered running through a field of wheat more naughty than her unlawful acts in office.
While a large part of this was due to the BBC's move from balanced reporting to its now infamous "both sides" approach, the partisan press had a significant impact on the change. Politicians, judges, civil servants that stood in the way of the owners' greed were the new targets, while the shameless in Westminster ran rampant.
This lack of consequences peaked when the Prime Minister, Johnson, was caught committing actual crimes amid a premiership of scandals. Instead of demanding his figurative head, people defended the behaviour, inspired by sycophantic journalists and Russian misinformation campaigns alike. The downfall of Johnson came only when he was allegedly caught having yet another affair, and was threatened with a costly divorce in the public eye, something even his own shamelessness would not allow.
The next Prime Minister was somehow worse. Liz Truss made no attempt to obfuscate her ties with a fringe think tank, instead piling £65bn of public money into the market to stop pensions from crashing. Despite the international outcry, she attempted to cling to power. The Mail called her courageous, until they realised they were once again on the wrong side of public opinion and demanded her exit. The tide truly turned, she resigned with a smirk.
This leads us to our current position. Rishi Sunak's cabinet is packed with overt bigots pandering to both the Mumsnet and Stormfront crowds. The Home Secretary, known as Leaky Su for her inability to be trusted with intelligence documents, has called immigrants like her own parents "invaders". The Chancellor is famous for gutting the NHS and precipitating the Covid crisis. The Secretary of State for Business is a known con-man who failed to declare business interests while awarding contracts.
The absence of shame in politics has led to a lack of consequence. Nothing highlights this more than a sitting MP, responsible for the worst Covid response in Europe, abandoning his constiuents to appear on I'm a Celebrity.
We can only hope that Hancock's time in the jungle sees him scrape the very bottom of the barrel. The country cannot handle much more.
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