A survey of MPs’ staff has shown rising numbers experiencing clinical levels of psychological distress. But the problem runs far deeper than the recent tensions over war in the Middle East, according to one staffer.
“I’ve worked in Westminster for nearly three years and I can honestly say I feel safer outside the House of Commons than inside it.
It might sound strange, given the renewed focus on MPs’ safety in discussions around Gaza, but it’s not the recent protests outside that make me fearful. What scares me, on a daily basis, is the undercurrent of bullying, harassment and intimidation that goes on in the so-called mother of all parliaments – and how we are powerless to stop it.
Sadly, it’s not uncommon in Westminster to enter a bathroom and find a member of MPs’ staff in tears. The pressures of the job are immense and growing. With each national or international crisis, the already-groaning inboxes of MPs are inundated by members of the public.
They are often polite, almost always desperate, but sometimes abusive and even threatening. This would be a matter of concern in any normal workplace. But in parliament, where you’re told “that’s just how it is here” and there’s no commitment to change anything, it can be crippling.
I’ve worked for several MPs and while my current boss is supportive, the sheer volume of work is absurd. I am effectively my MP’s personal assistant, head of communications, chief policy adviser and admin assistant – all for a low salary and with shockingly poor job security.
The way parliament works means you are employed by your MP – but some of them are barely equipped to manage themselves, never mind an entire team.
Staff warn each other to avoid working for certain MPs. You see some roll their eyes as you pass each other at odd hours, hear hushed whispers in corridors about an MP’s latest outburst, or Whatsapp message each other silent frustrations to get through the day.
There might be more than 3,700 of us spread all over the UK, but there is a sense of solidarity in what we’re experiencing.
When things do go wrong, it feels desperately isolating. I have heard colleagues share experiences of nasty condescension or even violence from their MP – at the receiving end of flying objects in tiny offices. Many feel powerless to complain because ultimately, it’s your job on the line.
You could opt to go through a formal grievance process but by that point it’s a foregone conclusion that it’ll just go their way, or that you’ll lose your job, or worse still – have your reputation smeared by the MP, and so many won’t bother.
In my experience, the cases of sexual harassment, bullying and intimidation that make the news are just the tip of the iceberg. Plenty more happens and it gets brushed under the carpet because the truth is, even though MPs’ offices largely only function as a result of our efforts, we are still seen as expendable.
It has been particularly difficult for my colleagues from ethnic minority backgrounds at the minute. They’re feeling extremely exposed, but barely merit an afterthought when it comes to discussions of safety.
In recent weeks, we have seen inflammatory, racist and dangerous language used by a string of senior figures: Suella Braverman, Lee Anderson, Paul Scully, Michael Gove, and the Tory mega-donor Frank Hester.
As a member of staff, you feel utterly powerless to do anything about the fact that MPs choose to go into the chamber and use their parliamentary privilege to say horrific things about entire communities with zero accountability, and you’ll end up having to share a lift with them the next day.
My colleagues tell me it’s scary to be walking around a place where the power imbalance is such that you don’t – you can’t – address it, and where you’re seen as a threat simply for being there.
I, and many others, have recently sought counselling from our GPs because we are unable to address our concerns in-house.
There are wellbeing services and helplines for staff, but there’s a tendency to treat our concerns as though they are individual issues, when in reality this is far greater than even a workload or workplace culture issue.
In truth, Westminster needs structural reform. The pressure on the system is building and building and building.
If safety was more than a political football in this place, our concerns would have been addressed already, but instead, we’re left dangerously close to breaking point.”
As told to Josh Halliday
• In the UK and Ireland Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123, or email jo@samaritans.org or jo@samaritans.ie. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is at 988 or chat for support. You can also text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis text line counselor. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international helplines can be found at befrienders.org
