Why We Get the Wrong Politicians

What kind of institution do you get when power, ambition, and privilege intertwine over centuries? In *Why We Get the Wrong Politicians*, Isabel Hardman examines how Westminster’s structures, cultures, and incentives distort representation and decision-making. The book argues that British politics attracts able people but breaks them—and that its operational machinery makes poor laws not because individuals are inherently corrupt, but because the system rewards the wrong behaviours.

A system rigged by barriers and incentives

You enter politics through a maze of costs and networks that exclude most people without money or connections. Assessment days, unpaid campaigning, and professional coaching create a filter where wealth and free time matter more than talent. Once inside, MPs face a career structure that promotes loyalty over scrutiny. Ministers and party whips incentivise yes‑men instead of questioners, meaning laws pass with minimal interrogation.

(Note: Similar critiques appear in Anthony King’s *The British Constitution*, which highlights hyper-centralisation and a weak legislature.)

The Westminster Bubble and cultural self-reproduction

Hardman explores the social psychology of politics: the ‘winner effect’ drives addiction to influence, and the Westminster Bubble recycles insiders—former advisers, lobbyists, and youth-wing activists—into MPs. This cultural cloning deters new voices with different life experience. It also normalises behaviours that would be unacceptable elsewhere, from alcohol dependence to workplace harassment. The Bubble teaches people not only *how* to survive but *what* to value: power, proximity, and perpetual motion.

When governance becomes firefighting

Constituency surgeries reveal the human fallout of weak legislation. MPs spend more time fixing individual bureaucratic crises than preventing them through better law-making. The tension between service and scrutiny—personal help versus structural reform—makes parliamentary work reactive. That imbalance explains why disasters such as Grenfell and policy fiascos like the ‘pasty tax’ arise: the system’s design rewards appearance of responsiveness rather than depth of understanding.

Executive dominance and its consequences

Above all, the executive controls the flow of information and sets the pace. From Iraq to Brexit, ministers use delegated legislation and tight timetables to bypass Parliament. MPs often lack time or expertise to interrogate technical details, leaving major decisions to civil servants or private commissions. Hardman shows how post‑war crusades and domestic programs repeat the same error: acting fast, centralising control, and learning too late.

Human toll and trust collapse

The emotional costs of this machine are profound. Between threats, divorces, drinking, and burnout, MPs pay dearly for their jobs. The 2009 expenses scandal and later sexual‑harassment crises deepened public cynicism, wiping away trust not only in individuals but in the institution itself. Hardman insists that you cannot rebuild legitimacy through punishment alone; you must reform process, culture, and career incentives so Parliament attracts people who want to serve, not merely win.

Core argument

Politics fails not because bad people lead it, but because a flawed system turns decent motives into brittle habits and bad law. To fix Westminster, you must dismantle the structures that reward self‑preservation, penalise diversity, and prioritise loyalty over competence.

The rest of the book traces how that system functions day‑to‑day—from selection costs to committee failures, from harassment to reform proposals—and how you, as a citizen, can understand the mechanics behind why Britain so often gets the wrong politicians and the wrong policies.

Hardman reveals that the simple act of *standing* for Parliament requires money, mobility and leisure time that many citizens don’t have. Parties charge fees for assessment days, demand travel to distant constituencies, and expect unpaid campaigning. A cross‑party survey found average personal costs around £11,000 per candidate; some invested over £100,000. Fundraising dinners and image coaching add invisible expenses that exclude talent from lower-income backgrounds.

Networks and selectorates

Local party members—often only a few dozen—decide shortlists for safe seats. Central offices use 'approved lists' and endorsements to steer winners. In Labour, union backing can make or break a career; in Conservative circles, mentors and youth-wing connections do the same. The circle reinforces itself: those who already know the system get chosen, and the rest rarely noticed.

Professionalisation and image norms

A coaching industry now sells electability: storytelling consultants like Peter Botting teach candidates how to sound polished, while schemes such as Women2Win or Labour’s all‑women shortlists try to redress gender gaps. Yet even corrective measures highlight inequality—female candidates report heavier financial strain and higher harassment risk. The political 'look' still matters: older men in suits fit the mold better than outsiders with different accents or backgrounds.

Insight

When entry costs and selector networks converge, Parliament stops representing economic and social diversity. Reform must make candidacies viable for ordinary earners and release gatekeeping power from small inner circles.

Standing for election should test ideas and dedication—not bank balance and connections. Hardman’s evidence shows that until the economics of candidacy change, potential reformers will remain locked outside and Westminster will keep reproducing wealth and privilege disguised as merit.

Once elected, MPs enter a world that reshapes who they are. The Westminster Bubble is more than isolation—it’s a schooling in conformity, ambition and risk addiction. The job’s rewards mirror neuroscience’s 'winner effect': each victory fuels craving for the next, turning power itself into the addictive substance. Advisers compare Parliament to a narcotic—a structure that excites and depletes simultaneously.

From student politics to career treadmill

Many MPs travelled a seamless route from university activism to party jobs and then Westminster itself. Hardman recounts how youth wings become miniature bubbles that breed ambition and aggression, exemplified by the Conservatives’ 'Road Trip' scandal led by Mark Clarke, which ended in harassment and tragedy. Early immersion into factional networks teaches aspiring politicians to value loyalty and clique survival more than independence of thought.

Brittle personalities and emotional hunger

Hardman’s interviews reveal a pattern: childhood instability, perfectionism and desire for approval often underpin political drive. These traits make effective campaigners but fragile leaders. Politics offers constant performance but little secure reward, unlike the military, which prizes merit and stability. Many MPs carry this emotional brittleness into policymaking, reacting defensively to threats and criticism instead of engaging deeply with evidence.

Bubble recruitment and exclusion

When those already embedded—special advisers, lobbyists, journalists—become MPs, the same norms reproduce. They know how to 'work the terrace,' court journalists, and please whips. Outsiders lack both know‑how and protection. Consequently, Parliament resembles a sociological monoculture that both generates and protects abusers, drinkers, and power‑addicts, because these behaviours fit its reward map.

Cultural insight

The Bubble rewards obsession and conformity. To change outcomes, you must change the symbols of success—less glamour for loyalty, more prestige for scrutiny and service.

Hardman isn’t cynical about individuals; she’s realistic about the system. Westminster doesn't just shape policy—it shapes personality, teaching those inside that needing power is normal, until that hunger consumes judgment itself.

Most citizens picture MPs debating bills, but Hardman shows that their real labour lies in constituency work—intervening in housing disputes, benefit suspensions or immigration messes created by those same laws. Surgeries offer human contact and local fixes, but they swallow time that should be spent scrutinising legislation. Parliament trades national oversight for personal casework firefighting.

The frontline of representation

MPs handle hundreds of cases monthly, acting as de facto ombudsmen for bureaucratic failure. One official letter can unlock frozen benefits or reverse an eviction. Hardman cites Karen Buck’s housing work and Tim Farron’s rural transport advocacy as examples of genuine impact. This responsiveness proves Parliament’s human value—but also its paradox: individuals fix problems caused by policies Parliament never properly scrutinised.

Security and emotional burden

The public side of MPs’ duty carries risk. Jo Cox’s murder, Stephen Timms’s stabbing, and rampant online abuse expose physical and psychological strain. Many MPs and staff experience trauma, depression and paranoia from constant threat. Hardman’s interviews describe a generation living under siege yet still expected to appear accessible. This climate corrodes empathy and decision capacity.

Tension insight

The more time MPs spend fixing policy failures locally, the less time they have to prevent new ones nationally. Real reform means rewarding scrutiny as much as service.

Fixing constituency crises may preserve faith in individual MPs, but systemic neglect of legislative detail ensures those crises keep returning. Westminster’s structure praises the rescuer but ignores the mechanic—the one who could stop the machine breaking in the first place.

Hardman shows that poor lawmaking often stems from structure, not stupidity. Parliament formally divides bills into multiple scrutiny stages, but committees are packed with loyalists and rushed by timetable. Whips dictate votes, turning technical examination into partisan theatre. Delegated legislation lets ministers make sweeping changes through statutory instruments rarely debated. Over time, this process yields disastrous blind spots in policy—from legal aid cuts to health reforms.

Rubber-stamp committees and career risk

MPs who challenge their party risk demotion or exclusion from promotion ladders. Sarah Wollaston’s blocked attempt to join the Health Bill committee illustrates how loyalty outpaces competence. As backbenchers admit, they often vote without understanding—following the whips because careers depend on obedience. The institutional logic rewards compliance rather than craftsmanship.

Delegated power and blind spots

Statutory instruments allow ministers to sneak major changes with little debate—like scrapping maintenance grants or reshaping benefit structures. By 2010s, thousands of policy details bypassed full scrutiny. The LASPO (Legal Aid, Sentencing and Punishment of Offenders Act) reforms cut legal aid to save money without testing access to justice consequences, creating ‘legal‑aid deserts.’ The Health and Social Care Act reorganised the NHS but generated chaos and multi‑agency confusion. Hardman’s analysis turns these cases into warnings: technical detail matters more than slogans.

Lesson

Poor lawmaking is not random—it’s designed into cultures that value headline speed and loyalty over competence. Rebalancing incentives would yield better scrutiny and fewer policy disasters.

Select committees and the Lords sometimes rescue debate, but they operate after damage occurs. Hardman’s conclusion mirrors reformers from the Constitution Unit: empower committees, extend ministerial tenures, and institutionalise post‑legislative reviews so public servants bear responsibility for the consequences of their decisions.

Westminster’s internal atmosphere amplifies personal risk. Hardman exposes sexual misconduct, alcohol dependence, mental illness and public abuse that combine to make Parliament a punishing workplace. These patterns harm individuals—especially women and minorities—and degrade policy quality by exhausting decision-makers and deterring talent.

Harassment and party cover‑up

Cases from Michael Fallon to Lord Rennard show how power hierarchies protect abusers and silence victims. Party whips treated complaints as political risks rather than safety issues. Victims faced rumour campaigns and professional blacklisting. The resulting fear deters women from candidacy despite recruitment drives. Harassment links back to structural imbalance: young staff depend on older patrons who influence selection.

Alcohol, loneliness and self‑medication

Westminster drinking culture feeds dependency. Charles Kennedy’s alcoholism and Fiona Jones’s death from liver failure underline the pressure. MPs live fragmented lives between constituency and capital, isolated from families. Many self‑medicate for stress, depression or rejection. The public expects relentless availability; inside, that demand corrodes mental health. Programs now offer therapy and mindfulness, marking progress but not cure.

Scandal and lost trust

The 2009 expenses scandal crystallised contempt: duck houses and moat cleaning became shorthand for elite arrogance. IPSA reformed pay structures but introduced bureaucratic friction. Subsequent moral and sex scandals deepened cynicism. Hardman argues that mistrust grows from mismatch—citizens expect virtue, but the system normalises vice. Without changing the workplace that breeds addiction and cynicism, moral clean‑ups fix nothing.

Institutional insight

Reputation repair requires culture change, not piety. Treat Westminster as a workplace needing regulation, mental‑health accountability and clear HR processes, or scandals will cycle endlessly.

Every bottle drained, every ignored complaint, and every burnout story marks political cost that extends beyond corridors—into poorer decisions, lost talent, and eroded democracy.

Hardman closes with the constitutional dimension: how executive dominance turns Parliament into a rubber stamp. Historical cases—Blair’s Iraq war, Cameron’s Libya intervention, and Brexit’s delegated-law tsunami—show that MPs often lack tools and information to challenge ministers. Classified papers, payroll votes and statutory instruments shrink parliamentary teeth. These conditions trap even well‑meaning MPs within obedience systems they can’t escape.

The foreign policy trap

In Iraq, MPs voted for war without full post‑conflict data. Chilcot’s later findings proved how poor planning was hidden. Libya replayed the tragedy—intervention approved, reconstruction neglected, and chaos followed. The oversight failure stems not from apathy but impotence: Parliament cannot compel the executive to reveal or rethink strategy mid‑crisis.

Brexit and legislative overload

Brexit magnified executive dominance. The Withdrawal Bill converted thousands of EU laws via statutory instruments, giving ministers quasi‑legislative control. MPs were swamped with unread regulations and denied comprehensive impact analyses. When David Davis admitted no systematic assessment existed, Hardman illustrates how secrecy and speed combine to neutralise democracy.

Paths to reform

Hardman’s solutions avoid radical Americanisation. Instead, she proposes shrinking the payroll vote (fewer MPs tied to government posts), strengthening select committees, and enforcing post‑legislative reviews—a 'public payback' that holds ministers accountable for implementation results. These measures would rebalance Parliament without destroying mutual cooperation essential to British governance.

Reform insight

Power concentration produces blind government. Releasing scrutiny capacity—through better committee rights, transparent records and cultural respect for dissent—is the only sustainable antidote.

Hardman ends with guarded optimism: the same Parliament that breeds dysfunction can, if re‑incentivised, heal itself. Empower questioning voices, widen entry, and reward care over loyalty—and the political machine that once produced bad laws might finally start delivering good ones.