MPs' expenses: What's the fuss is all about?

Tax-payers' money has been wasted on frivolous claims for moat-cleaning and light-bulbs. The Daily Telegraph is drip-feeding a seemingly endless stream of embarrassing news to an enraged public. I feel it's important that I display some sort of cognizance of the problem and why it makes people angry. MPs are our employees, say the press, and should only claim for what they can justify to their electors. But I think this is a naive and overly-simplistic perspective. We are not their masters. They are ours. The entire point of representative democracies is that our law-makers govern us; rule by the mob is an idea that sickens most sane people. The public, after all, are idiots. Voter choice is a charade; your pencil mark has been guided to make that cross in that box by a series of intricate subterfuges involving business, media outlets and our governing elites. Plus a little help from dear mother "events". If politicians genuinely thought that we were their bosses, they would rescind the entire elections experiment and get on with governing the country unhindered. Make no mistake: these days, your vote matters only in that it might help substitute one governing elite for another.

The Telegraph's "Matt" cartoon puts it very succinctly: "I went into Politics to make my living room a better place". Given the quality of most living rooms, I think this is a very noble ambition. It's much better than, heaven forbid, someone in politics actually trying to make a difference. Having ideals in government is about the least desirable trait. For evidence, I cite the 1980s. Sensibly, New Labour has abandoned ideals and continued along a journey begun by John Major: one of light-handed, pragmatic non-intervention. Real change is a divisive and terrible thing. The beauty of our political system is that Ministers can let the country evolve in its own way, and then claim credit for it. Their pomp and procedure is a clever veil for the truth: in a democracy, power is unreal.

But I digress. In an age where the liquid lunch is disappearing, when the corporate ethos and efficiency-savings are leaking into every sphere of society (this is, remember, to be blamed on whatever vague societal nonsense drives Meme Theory, and not on policy-makers), I think it's time for somebody calm and informed to write a paean to the Frivolous Expenses Claim. I must possess at least one of those qualities, so I will try. On a basic level, especially in a recession, these claims are a very Keynesian priming of the economic pump. Without the allowances, perhaps MPs would be more frugal with their spending. I think only a fool would deny the positive effect on the economy of this intervention. Perhaps this could be supplemental to the Government's economic strategy: rather than investing more billions in propping up banks, perhaps we should be grateful for the much-needed cash boost for moat-cleaners and light-bulb retailers.

My other reason for defending frivolous expenses is simply one from the realm of personal aesthetics. It has always pleased me that somewhere in this repugnant, barren Isle there was one last refuge of extravagance. Grace and favour homes, grand Parliament buildings, banquets with visiting dignitaries; all of it seemingly designed to inspire an other-worldly aura of elegance and solidity. The trappings of the myth of power. It is romantic, whimsical, and therefor meritful. In the public's rage, they may be about to destroy some of the finest ornamental remnants of our profligate past.

Much of the controversy seems to have centred around the idea that useless, untrustworthy politicians are pocketing vast sums of public money. If anyone maintains the same train of thought as myself, they will see that these sums are not only minuscule, they are also essential to maintaining the illusion of Parliament's importance. If you remove the benefits, the perks and the pomp, the public may wake up to find that their politicians are spending a lot of time frenetically getting nothing done, and may demand a more direct say in the governance of "their" country. That, dear readers, would be a sorry day indeed.