Make MPs less "moaty": we want professionals in Parliament, not wealthy hobbyists

It’s understandable that in this febrile, post-expenses atmosphere, MPs have come over all bashful and money-shy. But we want a political profession that's open to everyone, no matter what their means - not just the wealthy who fancy a nice office in cent

What is it about the idea of MPs getting paid more that has so many of us spitting homemade Daily Mail headlines? Sure, the expenses scandal reinforced in concrete a public image of MPs as financially fiddly moat-owners that goes right back to William Hogarth’s lurid caricatures of political perversion. But as the Independent Parliamentary Standards Committee faces scrutiny, even from within Parliament, for recommending a £10,000 pay rise for backbenchers, you have to wonder why pay increases for workers in broadly similar professions never attract that same level of vitriol.

As it stands, backbenchers make £66,000. Nick Clegg has spoken out against an increase that would up this beyond £70k and has rejected his own, hypothetical, new and improved salary. It’s understandable that in this febrile, post-expenses atmosphere, MPs have come over all bashful and money-shy. It would take a brave member to defend a healthy pay rise for him or herself when most of his/her constituents are paid far less, and those who are paid more fall unthinkingly into the consensus view that really and truly, your MP should be an amateur; in politics purely for love.

Representative democracy is an expensive luxury. And it seems all the more luxurious when it’s possible to be elected an MP and never set foot in the Commons again, unless you happen to feel like it. But as indulgent as our political system may be, MPs need to be seen as professionals rather than wealthy hobbyists. The aim should be a chamber full of well-paid representatives, who have no need for that extracurricular company directorship, union sponsorship, whatever. Cleansed of any outside influence and sharply divided along ideological and party lines, these representatives would be worth their healthy salary. But an ideal world, where politics is relevant, argumentative and dynamic - where it is elemental public policy conflict - would require a cessation of public cynicism.

That level of cynicism stems from a perception that MPs don’t have much expertise, or do very much. Armchair brain surgeons or gentleman civil engineers wouldn’t inspire a lot of confidence. So why do we not ascribe the same level of professionalism to those mandated to decide how the country should be run? Low salaries make way for a chamber brimming with people (mostly privately educated white males) who can afford to be there, yet still feel hard done by because they could be making so much more as a lawyer or company boss. Perversely, increasing MPs’ pay would have the effect of reducing their moaty-ness.

The problem is that in order to restore, or perhaps create, an idealised version of democratic, representative politics, you’d need to engineer a generation of “clean” MPs. The expenses scandal bunch would have to become a remote, Hogarthian spectre; the likes of Elliot Morley and Jim Devine turning into grotesque engravings from an earlier age. The simplest method of achieving this is to pave the way for the new generation with money. MPs need to be paid perhaps not quite as well as lawyers or company executives, but almost as well. The quid pro quo there is that if they’re going to be treated as professionals, they have to behave as professionals. This means turning up to work, having no outside business interests at all and adhering to a mandatory code of conduct.

The new, intrigue-free politics would make for some fairly slow news weeks at magazines like the New Statesman. But if dullness means reliability and even respectability then it can’t be such a bad thing. 

Let's make our MPs a little less moaty. Photograph: Getty Images

Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.

Getty.
Show Hide image

Hannan Fodder: This week, Daniel Hannan gets his excuses in early

I didn't do it. 

Since Daniel Hannan, a formerly obscure MEP, has emerged as the anointed intellectual of the Brexit elite, The Staggers is charting his ascendancy...

When I started this column, there were some nay-sayers talking Britain down by doubting that I was seriously going to write about Daniel Hannan every week. Surely no one could be that obsessed with the activities of one obscure MEP? And surely no politician could say enough ludicrous things to be worthy of such an obsession?

They were wrong, on both counts. Daniel and I are as one on this: Leave and Remain, working hand in glove to deliver on our shared national mission. There’s a lesson there for my fellow Remoaners, I’m sure.

Anyway. It’s week three, and just as I was worrying what I might write this week, Dan has ridden to the rescue by writing not one but two columns making the same argument – using, indeed, many of the exact same phrases (“not a club, but a protection racket”). Like all the most effective political campaigns, Dan has a message of the week.

First up, on Monday, there was this headline, in the conservative American journal, the Washington Examiner:

“Why Brexit should work out for everyone”

And yesterday, there was his column on Conservative Home:

“We will get a good deal – because rational self-interest will overcome the Eurocrats’ fury”

The message of the two columns is straightforward: cooler heads will prevail. Britain wants an amicable separation. The EU needs Britain’s military strength and budget contributions, and both sides want to keep the single market intact.

The Con Home piece makes the further argument that it’s only the Eurocrats who want to be hardline about this. National governments – who have to answer to actual electorates – will be more willing to negotiate.

And so, for all the bluster now, Theresa May and Donald Tusk will be skipping through a meadow, arm in arm, before the year is out.

Before we go any further, I have a confession: I found myself nodding along with some of this. Yes, of course it’s in nobody’s interests to create unnecessary enmity between Britain and the continent. Of course no one will want to crash the economy. Of course.

I’ve been told by friends on the centre-right that Hannan has a compelling, faintly hypnotic quality when he speaks and, in retrospect, this brief moment of finding myself half-agreeing with him scares the living shit out of me. So from this point on, I’d like everyone to keep an eye on me in case I start going weird, and to give me a sharp whack round the back of the head if you ever catch me starting a tweet with the word, “Friends-”.

Anyway. Shortly after reading things, reality began to dawn for me in a way it apparently hasn’t for Daniel Hannan, and I began cataloguing the ways in which his argument is stupid.

Problem number one: Remarkably for a man who’s been in the European Parliament for nearly two decades, he’s misunderstood the EU. He notes that “deeper integration can be more like a religious dogma than a political creed”, but entirely misses the reason for this. For many Europeans, especially those from countries which didn’t have as much fun in the Second World War as Britain did, the EU, for all its myriad flaws, is something to which they feel an emotional attachment: not their country, but not something entirely separate from it either.

Consequently, it’s neither a club, nor a “protection racket”: it’s more akin to a family. A rational and sensible Brexit will be difficult for the exact same reasons that so few divorcing couples rationally agree not to bother wasting money on lawyers: because the very act of leaving feels like a betrayal.

Or, to put it more concisely, courtesy of Buzzfeed’s Marie Le Conte:

Problem number two: even if everyone was to negotiate purely in terms of rational interest, our interests are not the same. The over-riding goal of German policy for decades has been to hold the EU together, even if that creates other problems. (Exhibit A: Greece.) So there’s at least a chance that the German leadership will genuinely see deterring more departures as more important than mutual prosperity or a good relationship with Britain.

And France, whose presidential candidates are lining up to give Britain a kicking, is mysteriously not mentioned anywhere in either of Daniel’s columns, presumably because doing so would undermine his argument.

So – the list of priorities Hannan describes may look rational from a British perspective. Unfortunately, though, the people on the other side of the negotiating table won’t have a British perspective.

Problem number three is this line from the Con Home piece:

“Might it truly be more interested in deterring states from leaving than in promoting the welfare of its peoples? If so, there surely can be no further doubt that we were right to opt out.”

If there any rhetorical technique more skin-crawlingly horrible, than, “Your response to my behaviour justifies my behaviour”?

I could go on, about how there’s no reason to think that Daniel’s relatively gentle vision of Brexit is shared by Nigel Farage, UKIP, or a significant number of those who voted Leave. Or about the polls which show that, far from the EU’s response to the referendum pushing more European nations towards the door, support for the union has actually spiked since the referendum – that Britain has become not a beacon of hope but a cautionary tale.

But I’m running out of words, and there’ll be other chances to explore such things. So instead I’m going to end on this:

Hannan’s argument – that only an irrational Europe would not deliver a good Brexit – is remarkably, parodically self-serving. It allows him to believe that, if Brexit goes horribly wrong, well, it must all be the fault of those inflexible Eurocrats, mustn’t it? It can’t possibly be because Brexit was a bad idea in the first place, or because liberal Leavers used nasty, populist ones to achieve their goals.

Read today, there are elements of Hannan’s columns that are compelling, even persuasive. From the perspective of 2020, I fear, they might simply read like one long explanation of why nothing that has happened since will have been his fault.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric. He is on Twitter, far too much, as @JonnElledge.