第 1 章
The Political Machine That Breaks Its People
Politics is a game of broken promises, but what if the greatest betrayal isn't what politicians do to voters-but what the system does to politicians themselves? Isabel Hardman's riveting exploration of Westminster reveals a machine that systematically destroys the very people we elect to represent us. When Anne Milton won her seat as MP for Guildford, her best friend's reaction was telling: "What have you done? Oh my God. What the fuck have you done?" This visceral response captures the public's relationship with politicians, who consistently rank as Britain's least trusted professionals. Yet Hardman's investigation uncovers something unexpected: most politicians aren't villains but decent people trapped in a toxic system that produces unrepresentative, unprepared lawmakers and disastrous policies. The book has become required reading for political insiders, with former Prime Minister Theresa May calling it "a must-read for anyone who wants to understand why our political system so often fails to deliver."
第 2 章
A Parliament That Doesn't Represent Us
Westminster simply doesn't reflect Britain's social composition, creating a significant democratic deficit. Despite recent improvements in diversity, the statistics reveal a stark disparity: 29% of MPs attended private schools, compared to just 7% of the general population. Even more remarkably, an astonishing one-tenth of privately educated MPs graduated from a single institution - Eton College - which has produced 19 prime ministers across history, from Robert Walpole to Boris Johnson. This educational elitism perpetuates a narrow worldview and reinforces existing power structures.
Gender and ethnic representation remain problematic. Women comprise only 32% of MPs despite being over half the population, a figure that places the UK 39th globally for female parliamentary representation, behind many developing nations. Ethnic minorities remain significantly underrepresented at 7.8% compared to 14% of the general population, with particular underrepresentation of certain communities like British Chinese and mixed-race individuals. The disability gap is perhaps most striking: while 18% of Britons have disabilities or long-term health conditions, less than 1% of MPs do, limiting Parliament's ability to understand and legislate effectively on disability issues.
The professional backgrounds of our representatives reveal equally concerning imbalances. The 2015 Parliament contained more career politicians (107) than former teachers (16), nurses (4), and social workers (3) combined. Even traditionally overrepresented professions like lawyers (89) were outnumbered by political careerists who moved directly from university to Westminster via research roles and special advisor positions. Critical sectors of the economy are virtually absent - there were just three former manufacturing workers, despite the sector employing 2.7 million people. Scientists, retail workers, and manual laborers, who comprise significant portions of the workforce, remain rare in Parliament. This homogeneity matters because it creates substantial blind spots when developing policy for communities MPs have never experienced firsthand.
The psychological profile of politicians also reveals distinctive patterns that influence governance. Many come from challenging backgrounds - 39 MPs from the 2015 intake grew up without fathers, suggesting that early instability might drive political ambition. Caroline Flint's story exemplifies this pattern: adopted at two, abandoned by her adoptive father, and dealing with her mother's alcoholism throughout childhood. Similarly, Liam Byrne's notorious perfectionism stems from his alcoholic father's influence, driving both his political success and personal struggles. Politics itself becomes psychologically addictive - neuroscientist Ian Robertson's research explains how power fundamentally changes brain chemistry, creating what he calls a "politico-erotic vicious circle." As testosterone levels increase with power, it boosts dopamine production, fueling an action-oriented approach that becomes addictive, particularly for those with a high need for power. This psychological dynamic helps explain why many politicians struggle to step away from office, even when it's in their best interest.
第 3 章
The Brutal Path to Parliament
Becoming an MP resembles a pointless feat of strength like those in World's Strongest Man competitions-candidates exhaust themselves physically, financially, and emotionally for years, only to have voters ignore their efforts and vote based on party leaders and national policies. It's "the most expensive and time-consuming job interview on earth," with candidates working for free for years while spending tens of thousands of their own money with no guaranteed job at the end.
The financial barriers are staggering. The most extensive survey of 554 parliamentary candidates from 2015 found the average personal cost of standing was 11,118, ranging from a 250 profit to a staggering 550,000 loss. An elite "Six Figure Society" of 11 candidates spent over 100,000 each. Conservative winners in marginal seats averaged 121,467 in personal costs, while Labour candidates spent 19,022 to win marginals and 35,843 to lose them.
These costs disappear into lost income, petrol bills crossing constituencies, donations at local events, and mortgage payments while campaigning full-time. Many candidates discover most people wrongly assume they're being paid to stand. Vikki Slade had to sell her wedding catering business when she stopped taking bookings, believing she'd win her Lib Dem seat. For many candidates from ordinary backgrounds, the costs prove prohibitive, creating a Parliament that doesn't reflect the UK.
The personal costs can be even more devastating. Kate Godfrey faced horrific treatment from her local Labour party after refusing to back a benefits-cheating councillor. She received hate mail with her face on Page 3 of the Sun, indecent images, threats of rat poison, and midnight phone calls from party members she recognized. Minority candidates face prejudice too, like Ben Howlett being questioned about his sexuality and Uma Kumaran attacked in leaflets for "betraying Hindu values." Online abuse affects candidates' families, with children reading terrible things about their parents. Many lose partners and spouses during campaigns, with one candidate claiming to have lost two girlfriends in his quest for Parliament.
第 4 章
Lost in Westminster's Labyrinth
For newly elected MPs, Parliament presents an immediate and overwhelming set of practical challenges. Beyond managing their 84,000 salary and complex expenses system, new MPs must navigate the labyrinthine Palace of Westminster - a Gothic maze of corridors, hidden staircases, and unmarked doors that even veterans get lost in. The whips' office wields significant power through office assignments, deliberately using space allocation as a tool for control and influence. New members quickly discover they're small fish in a vast pond, with party grandees securing the coveted riverside offices while newcomers might spend months working from makeshift "classroom" spaces in crowded committee rooms, sometimes sharing desks with several colleagues.
There's no formal job description or structured training program for MPs, leaving them to piece together their responsibilities through trial and error. While parties invest heavily in training candidates to win elections - covering everything from media appearances to doorstep campaigning - they provide remarkably little guidance on actually being an effective parliamentarian. Although Parliament now offers more support than in 2010, including basic orientation sessions and IT setup, members still receive no formal training in crucial skills like examining legislation, drafting amendments, or managing constituent casework. This creates a peculiar situation where MPs often work 70-80 hour weeks yet find themselves trapped in a cycle of busy work without meaningful impact.
The parliamentary system perversely incentivizes visible but ultimately unproductive activities. MPs learn that attending receptions, making brief appearances in debates, or delivering short speeches will boost their statistics on monitoring websites like TheyWorkForYou, even if these activities achieve little substantive change. Former business executives are particularly frustrated by Parliament's institutional dysfunction, citing antiquated IT systems, unclear lines of accountability, and inefficient processes that would never be tolerated in the private sector. Ex-lawyers, accustomed to structured workdays and clear procedures, often struggle with Parliament's unpredictable scheduling and lack of clear priorities.
New MPs must rapidly master Parliament's byzantine procedures and centuries-old traditions. They're expected to deliver maiden speeches that follow strict conventions - praising their constituency's history and their predecessor (regardless of party) while avoiding controversy. The Chamber itself is an intimidating arena with complex rules: MPs cannot address colleagues directly by name, instead using formal titles like "Honourable Member for [constituency]" or "Right Honourable Member" for Privy Council members. Getting called to speak involves the peculiar practice of "bobbing" - repeatedly standing and sitting to catch the Speaker's eye, which can mean hours of physical endurance for backbenchers hoping to contribute to major debates.
The Chamber's culture seems designed to bewilder newcomers: clapping is strictly forbidden (though Scottish National Party MPs deliberately violated this rule in 2015 as a protest), while traditional "hear, hear" calls and various animal-like noises from both male and female MPs are considered acceptable, particularly during the weekly theatre of Prime Minister's Questions. Language is tightly regulated by Erskine May, the parliamentary rulebook, which prohibits terms like "liar," "hypocrite," or "drunk," with the Speaker empowered to eject members who breach these arcane conventions. Even the simple act of referring to another MP's speech requires mastery of parliamentary language, with phrases like "as the honourable member who spoke previously alluded to" becoming part of daily vocabulary.
第 5 章
Social Workers with Fancy Letterheads
Modern MPs now function as "glorified social workers," a stark contrast to earlier parliamentarians who rarely visited their constituencies. Today's MPs hold regular surgeries where they meet constituents facing crises, carrying heavy document folders to prove their desperate situations. Though MPs have no formal powers beyond those of ordinary citizens, their reputation and staff's expertise in navigating complex government systems make them effective advocates.
Research shows constituency work consumes 35-74% of most MPs' time, with many handling hundreds of casework queries monthly on immigration, welfare benefits, and housing issues. Despite the 2016 murder of Jo Cox at her surgery and other attacks, parliamentarians continue to view constituent meetings as a sacred duty.
Even David Cameron maintained constituency surgeries as Prime Minister, viewing them as essential to his role-"the eggs" that make everything "hang together." Despite security details and European Council meetings, he prioritized Witney constituents, believing the "social work stuff" was vital. During constituency visits, he carried a black folder with briefings on everyone he'd meet, having already completed five hours of prime ministerial work before his 10 a.m. constituency day began.
Karen Buck's surgery at Church Street library operated with a ticket system due to high demand. Buck spent considerable time sorting through constituents' chaotic paperwork-plastic wallets stuffed with documents, brown envelopes, and messy papers that symbolized the bureaucratic tangles trapping vulnerable people. While compassionate, Buck remained brutally realistic about what she could achieve.
Despite being stabbed by a radicalized student during a constituency surgery in 2010, Stephen Timms returned to work just three weeks later. Though his first surgery back had police presence and he received further threats, Timms refused permanent security measures like knife-detecting arches, believing they would damage his relationship with constituents. "That would change the way we relate to our constituents," he explained. "I didn't want people to have to be scanned every time they walked into my surgery."
第 6 章
The Theatrical Failure of Legislative Scrutiny
Parliament resembles a complex ecosystem that appears orderly in diagrams but functions messily in reality. MPs spend four days weekly in Westminster primarily to create laws, with party whips dictating their attendance and voting patterns. Yet many new MPs are shocked by how little time they actually spend examining legislation. MPs across parties describe parliamentary scrutiny as "shocking," "very bad," and "disappointing."
On paper, the legislative process looks thorough and robust. Bills undergo multiple stages of scrutiny in both Commons and Lords over several months. Yet this seemingly comprehensive process fails in practice. The problem isn't lack of formal opportunities but that MPs cannot or will not use them effectively-like someone with an expensive gym membership who only uses the jacuzzi.
Bill committees are widely derided as theatrical charades rather than genuine scrutiny forums. One Tory MP called them "an 18-day charade" where "everything you achieve comes from work outside the committee room." Committee members from governing parties vote as instructed regardless of their expertise or concerns, while opposition amendments are systematically rejected. MPs famously use committee time to write Christmas cards and correspondence.
Secondary legislation offers ministers a sinister way to push through policies with minimal scrutiny. Unlike primary legislation, these measures-often statutory instruments-receive limited debate (90 minutes or none at all) and can't be amended, only approved or rejected wholesale. While seemingly designed for technical details, ministers increasingly use this mechanism for significant policy changes.
The "keep-quiet strategy" typically works, with whips telling MPs they can "get this over and done with in five minutes if you keep quiet." However, it failed spectacularly in September 2012 when four Tory MPs revolted against cuts to compensation for victims of attacks, forcing minister Helen Grant to withdraw the motion. Yet this victory proved temporary; two months later, the same measures passed in a committee from which all four rebels had been conveniently excluded.
第 7 章
The Ministerial Mirage
Most MPs aspire not to be good legislators but to join the executive as soon as possible. This ambition is understandable-ministers receive more media attention, better staffing, significantly higher pay (19,000-77,570 above MP salary), and improved post-politics career prospects. The ministerial position also offers enhanced influence, access to government cars, dedicated office space in Whitehall, and the prestige of running major departments. However, this career focus distracts MPs from their scrutiny duties, allowing flawed legislation to pass unchallenged and weakening Parliament's oversight role.
Savvy MPs begin positioning for ministerial roles before they've even found their way around Parliament. Robert Halfon built his reputation through campaigns on fuel prices, bingo hall taxes, and beer duty-issues affecting both his Harlow constituents and Sun newspaper readers. His strategic advocacy earned him David Cameron's nickname as "the most expensive MP in Parliament" for costing the Treasury so much in lost tax revenues. Similar examples include Tom Tugendhat's focused work on foreign affairs and Stella Creasy's campaigns on consumer credit, both clearly positioning themselves for specific ministerial portfolios.
For ambitious MPs, becoming a parliamentary private secretary (PPS) represents the first step toward ministerial office. Though unpaid, this "bag carrier" role places them within government, requiring absolute voting loyalty while providing valuable experience in how ministries function. PPSs attend ministerial meetings, handle correspondence, and act as liaison between their minister and backbench MPs. This apprenticeship provides crucial networking opportunities and insider knowledge of departmental operations, though few aspire to remain in this position long.
New ministers quickly discover that promotion brings less power than expected. Civil servants aren't always bastions of wisdom-they often present new ministers with politically unworkable ideas that previous secretaries rejected. The permanent bureaucracy can effectively stonewall ministerial initiatives through delay tactics, excessive paperwork, or claims of practical impossibility. Ministers frequently know nothing about their portfolio before appointment. Tessa Jowell recalled her first day at Health looking at a technical submission on antibiotic resistance thinking, "I have not the faintest idea what to do with this." Similar experiences have been reported by numerous ministers, including Michael Gove at Education and Alan Johnson at Health.
Westminster's constant reshuffles undermine both daily operations and policy accountability. The average ministerial tenure is less than two years, barely enough time to master a brief before moving on. By the time a reform's failure becomes apparent, the responsible minister has moved on to another department or left government entirely. This system allows ministers to escape accountability for poor decisions unless problems emerge during their tenure. Recent examples include the frequent changes in housing ministers (10 in 10 years) coinciding with a worsening housing crisis, and the rotating door of Brexit secretaries during crucial negotiations with the EU.
第 8 章
The Human Cost of Political Life
Parliamentary life devastates relationships. Of MPs elected between 2010-2015, 12% got divorced while serving-32 Conservative MPs, 9% of Labour MPs, 12% of Liberal Democrats, and 66% of SNP MPs elected in 2010 split from their spouses. Many cite Westminster itself as the cause.
The logistical challenges are immense. MPs must choose between basing their family in the constituency (showing commitment to the area but creating family separation) or in London (risking accusations of being disconnected from constituents). Local media routinely question where candidates' families will live, and even fellow MPs criticize colleagues' family arrangements.
Even seemingly strong marriages crumble under Parliament's pressures. One MP whose marriage collapsed recalled being warned to ensure his spouse was "100% supportive"-he thought she was 90% supportive, but reality proved closer to 50%, quickly dropping to 30%. The reality of separation, late-night drinking culture, and the allure of power creates relationship strain.
Westminster's drinking culture remains a persistent health hazard for politicians despite some improvements. While the presence of cameras in the Chamber and more family-friendly sitting hours have somewhat reduced the old boys' club atmosphere, alcohol still "laps around Westminster every day from lunchtime until the close of play."
The parliamentary drinking culture has claimed several political lives. Liberal Democrat leader Charles Kennedy died at just 55 from alcoholism after his addiction cost him his leadership position. Labour's Fiona Jones died of liver failure at 49, with her husband noting she drank whisky in Parliament "because nobody cared if she drank." Her funeral was notably unattended by colleagues.
Mental illness is so prevalent in Westminster that Parliament now has dedicated medical staff with psychiatric treatment funding. Some MPs arrive with pre-existing conditions, while others find parliamentary life triggers their first experiences of anxiety or depression. As Charles Walker explains, "If you are predisposed to having a weakness or a condition, Parliament will expose it"-accelerating alcoholism, hastening failing marriages, and developing latent mental illnesses.
第 9 章
When It All Ends: The Aftermath
Losing an MP position represents a uniquely traumatic form of job loss, combining public humiliation with sudden social isolation. Ben Howlett's experience exemplifies this trauma - going from being surrounded by colleagues, constituents, and staff 24/7 to finding himself "literally broken" and alone with his thoughts. The transition is particularly jarring because MPs often lose not just their jobs, but their entire way of life overnight. Lee Scott's experience reveals the darker side of political service - facing severe anti-Semitic abuse during his 2015 campaign that required police protection. Years later, the trauma remains so deep that he still routinely checks under his car, highlighting how the psychological impacts can persist long after leaving office.
Psychological studies conducted on former MPs reveal a complex grieving process that can extend up to six years, with distinct phases mirroring the classic stages of grief. Many report experiencing initial shock and denial, followed by anger, depression, and eventually acceptance. The process is complicated by the public nature of their defeat, with many describing the humiliation of watching their loss announced on national television. The practical aftermath proves equally challenging - former MPs must return to Parliament to clear out their offices, often passing smiling successors in the corridors, while handling the painful task of making loyal staff redundant.
Financial support for defeated MPs has declined significantly. While long-serving members received approximately 17,000 in loss-of-office payments in 2017, newer MPs got just 3,000 - barely enough to cover immediate living expenses while seeking new employment. This reduction in support has made the transition particularly challenging for younger MPs who haven't had time to build substantial savings.
The employment landscape for former MPs varies dramatically. Ex-ministers, particularly those from high-profile portfolios, often transition smoothly into lucrative corporate positions or consulting roles. However, backbenchers face unexpected challenges despite their presumed networks and transferable skills. Recruitment consultant Max Wiltshire observes a common phenomenon among former MPs: an inflated sense of their market value, often leading to disappointment when job hunting. Many maintain connections to politics through local government roles, consultancy work, or attempting to return to Parliament in subsequent elections.
Interestingly, the personal aftermath often brings unexpected benefits. Many former MPs report that losing their seat ultimately saved their marriages and restored family relationships strained by the demands of parliamentary life. They describe rediscovering simple pleasures like regular family dinners and weekend activities with children. However, the majority admit to missing the sense of purpose and influence that came with the role - ironically, the very aspects they frequently complained about while serving. This contradiction highlights the complex relationship many have with political service, simultaneously finding it both burdensome and deeply meaningful.
第 10 章
Fixing a Broken System
We expect the impossible from our politicians: tending to every local concern while being constantly present in Parliament; maintaining both constituency and Westminster homes perfectly; earning modest salaries while making crucial decisions; influencing the prime minister while staying "in touch" with ordinary people; and avoiding bad legislation. We punish them for scandals regardless of their involvement and abuse them on social media, then wonder why "ordinary" people avoid politics.
It's easy to blame voters for our political problems, but the real issues lie within Westminster itself-in both structure and culture. Our system lacks separation of powers, with over a hundred MPs serving as ministers rather than performing their legislative duties. The American system, where ministers are appointed separately from elected representatives, offers a wider talent pool and removes the corrosive force of patronage.
We could strengthen Parliament without complete separation of powers. First, shrink the executive-the Public Administration Select Committee suggested limiting ministers and parliamentary private secretaries to 15% of the Commons. Bill committees need strengthening-linking them with select committees (as in Scotland and Germany) would bring expertise and professional staff to scrutinize legislation properly.
Hardman proposes "public payback panels" where affected citizens could question committee members about the consequences of their votes. These panels would make MPs anxious to get legislation right, knowing they'd face those whose lives were affected by their decisions. They would break open the Westminster Bubble by connecting MPs directly with those affected by their decisions.
The culture must change so MPs aspire to be serious legislators rather than just ministers or constituency social workers. Select committees should become legislative powerhouses with higher status, better pay, and more influence-making committee membership as desirable as joining the executive. The rewards system must shift to make scrutiny as attractive as ministerial office.
Finally, we need to diversify Parliament through outreach into communities detached from party politics. The financial barriers to candidacy must be addressed-parties should reform selection processes and provide candidate salaries or bursaries, with external organizations potentially offering additional financial support.
These incremental changes may lack revolutionary glamour but would be more effective than constitutional upheaval, as any system still involves flawed humans. Better to breathe life into our existing system and give the best people, not just the best-connected, a chance to become effective politicians.
