Used to be, back in the days of cloth caps, spangles and a British economy, that politicians would be people who had made something of themselves in life. They’d be in their fifties, sixties, and would’ve already had a career in the real world, whether it be as doctors, lawyers, teachers, councillors. The idea being, they would have already proved themselves, had success in life, demonstrated leadership and integrity, and would bring those qualities and real-world experience to the House of Commons.
Nowadays politics is run by people who grew up wanting to be politicians. They joined debating societies or political societies at university – I knew some of these people, and they were intolerably vainglorious even then – before becoming researchers or political-party envelope-stuffers or lobbyist consultants, before having licked enough adhesive flaps to be rewarded with a seat of their own.
I mean, for William Hague, the whole experience of being Tory leader was an extended edition of Tonight’s The Night With John Barrowman. It’s the same for David Cameron. The only job he’s ever had was Person Responsible For Disastrous Commercial Decisions at Carlton – remember OnDigital?
The Labour lot, sadly, aren’t much better. Their all-women shortlist policy seems to have resulted in a load of condescending, preening Henriettas being foisted upon us. Every one unfit for public office. Even worse is the policy of promoting unelected business-chums into the Lords and parachuting them into the cabinet – how humiliating it must be for all the backbench MPs to know that their leader considered them all so incapable he had to Get Someone In. All that envelope-licking, all that time-serving... only for someone else to get the job!
