"In Parliament, I've seen grown men cry over MPs' expenses"

If you think MPs are over-paid, think again. An anonymous MP explains how a flat salary and little chance of ministerial perks cause misery over childcare costs and mortgage payments.

In the pig swill of Westminster something new is stirring.

After two decades of MPs arguing for more pay colleagues are falling over themselves to forego any pay rise, ever. Not now. Not in the future, but please let me keep my pension is the sotto voce subtext.

“I’m happy with my salary,” a headline screams. This young mum will soon learn that childcare costs when you work to midnight will eat it up. Hope she’s got an overdraft or a rich husband. Nick Clegg starts an inevitable Dutch auction by pledging to forego any rise. Easy for him now his rich wife doesn’t have to pay those private school fees after all.

There’s a sigh of inevitability from colleagues as each leader comes out to condemn any pay rise. They’re always first in the queue (we’d be hammered if he didn’t, said one advisor) these leaders with their generous Government salaries, rich wives and ministerial cars.

But this time less anger from the rank and file. And in a sign that the troughs of mud covered expenses have been well and truly emptied there is a palpable uncomfortable feeling about being paid more.

The impending election fills us with dread as candidates will be pressured to declare that they will forgo the pay rise. Easy for the candidate with no hope of winning. A different matter if you have a mortgage to pay. “It’s our job,” says one colleague plaintively.

Tory A-listers are still reeling. Many sacrificed good careers with prospects for a flat salary and little chance of a ministerial job. I’ve seen grown men in tears because of the system of expenses that pillories MPs and makes many afraid to claim.

Others say that you need money to do this job now, “I’m lucky I did well in a previous life so I don’t need to claim anything”, one told me sanguinely in the coffee queue. Not uncommon. And there’s the female MP whose husband gave up his job to do the childcare because it doesn’t pay him to work. Not uncommon with many families but most people imagine MPs can afford full time nannies. The reality is far from that for most.

The young families are struggling the most. If they have a London mortgage or rent (and as we spend half a week in London a number do) the maths just don’t work.

Bravely Mark Pritchard sticks his head above the parapet to declare that Parliament must not be just for the privileged. Multi-millionaire and hero of the working man Adam Afriyie has been brave (and rich) enough to repeat this for three years.

All parties unite in a bit of “why do we do the job” “how often do you think about giving up?” moaning. Well, there’s a long queue of people keen to take it on. Though in some seats the shortlists these days are very short. The reality check about the money and the prospects increasingly makes wannabes think twice. And many walk away.

Pritchard and Afriyie are right. This place must not become a place just for the privileged. Richer MPs will forego more pay because they can. The poorer will because they feel guilty. And this is why we set up an independent body to take the decision out of our hands.

There is one unifying cry – we created the monster that is now putting us  through this prolonged agony of a pre-announcement, a speech and then (oh wait for the abuse) a public consultation before any decision.

So we are to blame for a body which pays its communications official £20,000 a year more than MPs.

There is never a good time to increase MPs’ pay but doing a catch-up every five years will always mean it is too much. So why isn’t the salary linked to another job that the public understand? Should MPs be offered two thirds of a GP’s salary or three quarters? And while we’re at it let’s stop the lunacy that describes employing staff to respond to constituents as “expenses”. If anything underlines the other worldliness of Parliament, that does. 

Now read Eleanor Margolis explain why we need our MPs to be less "moaty" - ie professionals, not wealthy hobbyists.

 

The Houses of Parliament. Photograph: Getty Images
Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.