Shamelessness trumped by uselessness as Paterson exits minus his reputation

It is hard to imagine a more shambolic end to a more tawdry affair.

- TOM PECK

It is hard to imagine a more shambolic end to a more tawdry affair. Owen Paterson’s colleagues tore up the rule book to try and save him. Then, the next morning, in the face of extreme outrage, decided it would be better, actually, to stick the rule book back together again, and tear up Paterson instead.

Faced again with suspension, and a high probability of being kicked out of the House of Commons altogether, Paterson did the easy thing – which is different from the decent thing – and resigned as an MP.

His statement is a jaw-dropping mess. He has promised to “remain a public servant, but outside the cruel world of politics”. It hardly bears repeating that he is resigning, in disgrace, having been found to be using his public office to be a servant not to the public, but to himself, having failed to declare that he was employed by various private companies. Two hundred and fifty MPs made fools of themselves, inviting mass public outrage, trying to protect him. There are, one suspects, crueler worlds out there.

It is beyond grim that the suicide of his wife last summer has been embroiled in this matter, though it is a statement of fact that much of the embroiling was done by Paterson himself. It was him, and no one else, who told the standards committee that he had “no doubt” that their investigation into his lobbying affairs had played a major role in it.

He leaves politics having conceded no wrongdoing at all. That he did the right thing. That it was, in effect, a coincidence that the potential public health risk of antibiotics in milk to which he drew attention entirely dovetailed with the commercial interests of one of the companies who paid him. Needless to say, the standards committee and the standards commissioner did not accept these explanations.