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Evening Standard
Evening Standard
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Ayesha Hazarika

Naming and shaming MPs is the way to change this rotten culture

Ayesha Hazarika

(Picture: Daniel Hambury)

Another week and another horrific allegation of sexual misconduct from Westminster. Last night an unnamed Conservative MP was arrested on suspicion of indecent assault, sexual assault, rape and misconduct in a public office.

It’s got to the stage where it’s genuinely hard to keep up with the torrent of allegations which involve men in positions of responsibility abusing their power. Only a few weeks ago it was Neil Parish caught watching porn in the House of Commons debating chamber who claimed he was merely looking for tractors. Twice. We all had a good snigger but what’s happening in Westminster is far more serious than Benny Hill meets The Thick Of It. The sheer volume of male politicians who have been accused of sexual harassment to rape is genuinely shocking and while this is an issue which can affect any party, the recent cases involve a majority of Conservative MPs.

A few weeks ago, a government minister sought to calm nerves by declaring that this was just a few bad apples and that there wasn’t a specific problem with Westminster. He couldn’t be more wrong. The entire orchard is rotten and until senior politicians acknowledge that, things will not change.

There has always been bad behaviour at Westminster, but it does feel like the scale of the problem is now undeniable. And yet, we still have feeble excuses. It’s all the cheap booze. It’s just men away from their wives. It’s a good thing as it means more people are coming forward. If you think there is anything good or acceptable about elected legislators going around sexually assaulting young people because they have to spend a couple of nights away from the missus then you need your head read.

And it does to tend to be younger people who are preyed upon because of this kind of abuse isn’t only about sex, it’s about power. And each story has a similar thread. Generally boring, unattractive man makes it to Parliament, thinks he’s a rock star and has a God given second shot at reliving his sexual youth because this time he’ll have more luck because this time he’s a big deal.

He has status and connections. He can be useful to keen, young ambitious staffers. He knows people in the party. He can make important introductions at parties, open doors and potentially change your life. He thinks you’ve got talent and ability - you could go all the way to the top. Maybe even end up working for the Leader. But you have to come back to his flat for more late-night drinks to really discuss your glittering career in more detail. It’s a story as old as the hills.

I’ve experienced it myself. I once had to be rescued from a junior minister who was trying to drag me into his ministerial car back to his flat to offer me “career advice.” I was young, keen and very naïve. I probably would have gone. Thankfully an older colleague intervened and sent me home. I shudder to think what might have happened.

There is no doubt that the late nights and the boozy culture plays a factor. There are also more drugs around politics these days – particularly cocaine – which adds a different, more sexually aggressive atmosphere. But the only thing that will change this increasingly frightening culture is male politicians getting found out, publicly named and punished. This isn’t a “boys will be boys” giggle anymore. Young women and men are getting harassed physically and attacked by the people we elect to make our laws. Would you want that for your son or daughter?

In other news

The capital has gone Tube crazy. Yesterday the Queen rocked up to open the Elizabeth line looking resplendent in yellow. Which was incidentally the colour Rebekah Vardy was sporting in court. Just saying… I joined in the love rush for the Underground. While presenting my Times Radio show on Sunday afternoon, one of my producers whispered some highly exciting breaking news into my headphones. “Apparently, the Northern line Bank branch is going to open early… TONIGHT.” When I finished work, I was one of the first people allowed on at London Bridge to travel south on the branch after it had been shut for months. It felt eerie to stand on an empty, gleaming platform. There were a couple of people on the train. We nodded and smiled, like competition winners.

Talk about sparking joy. I almost spontaneously combusted. Never ever will I take the Northern line for granted again.

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