Private vs Political Questions: A Line Drawn too Late
The recent questioning of the PM’s tax affairs comes after a long line of public scandals during Johnson’s government, and Adam Marshall argues we are left with no choice but to scrutinise the private lives of politicians.
Photo by Jannes Van den wouwer on Unsplash
In the wake of the latest in a long list of government scandals, Downing Street attempted to deflect scrutiny surrounding the PM’s potential tax evasion. Drawing a line between the personal and public lives of elected officials, Sunak’s press secretary claimed that ‘the tax affairs of any individual, whoever they are, are confidential’. Following the revelation that Nadhim Zahawi had settled a £4.8 million bill with HMRC during his time as Chancellor, including a reported £1 million penalty, Sunak’s personal finances have once again come into question. Set against a backdrop of the public’s knowledge of his dubious family finances, this included the revelation of his wife’s non-dom status and consequent tax avoidance, as well as his very recent ownership of an American Green Card.
His subsequent vague promise to release his own tax returns was swiftly undercut by the spurious line drawn by his press secretary’s statement. This response attempted to gloss over the deeply problematic implications of having a tax-evader in charge of the country’s taxes. What’s more, it disregarded a political context in which the public is consistently drawn into the private lives of ministers. This is not, as Sunak may have it, because of a gossip-hungry, intrusive press that seeks to expose any nugget of sleaze to increase sales. We are drawn in because government ministers consistently allow their private lives to affect the integrity and competence of their public service.
The effect of the personal on the public has never been so clear as it was in the scandal and corruption of Boris Johnson’s government. Out of a long rap sheet, the issuing of dodgy PPE contracts to friends of the government was unique in its unashamed allocation of public money for the benefit of the personal lives of officials. Close ties to the government meant securing lucrative contracts for the manufacturing of medical equipment, and resulted in an estimated £2.8 billion of taxpayer’s money wasted on defective gear.
It also set a gloomy precedent for the levels of integrity expected of the government and marked the beginning of an era where the personal lives and connections of ministers were rightfully shoved into the limelight. The specifics of this scandal are astounding, from the £40 million contract handed to Matt Hancock’s inexperienced local landlord, to the £156 million of faulty equipment produced by Brexiteer and Conservative ally Andrew Mill’s company Prospermill. The precedence given to these inept individuals in securing the equipment so central to the country’s safety is haunting. Here, corruption was not only allowed but institutionalised in a system that prioritised personal connection over experience and merit.
10 Downing Street itself became host to a blurring of the private and political - as a centre of government power, a family home and a site for the now infamous rule-breaking parties. This was a period in which the public’s gaze was directed to Boris Johnson’s £840 a roll wallpaper whilst wondering what the dodgy donor Lord Brownlow sought to gain from buying it. The hypocrisy of this government was further exposed through news of Dominic Cummings’ Barnard Castle eye test, Matt Hancock’s adolescent arse-grabbing, and the exposure of the Partygate scandal that ultimately led to its demise. It was undoubtedly a period of unprecedented scrutiny, where the actions and movements of individuals had serious implications for the health of the nation.
These scandals dominated the public’s attention for a good two years, and in doing so renewed the perceived importance of personal scrutiny. Government scandals are nothing new. From Lloyd George to Bill Clinton, the moral failings of world leaders have always fascinated the public, yet the relentless corruption and hypocrisy of Johnson’s government made any sense of superficial intrigue far more sinister. Such a capturing of the public imagination has nevertheless been capitalised on by politicians and media outlets alike. Matt Hancock’s recent appearance on I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here only confirmed his slippery grasp of moral accountability. His gag-worthy ‘I fell in love’ excuse went down about as well as his impromptu rendition of Ed Sheeran’s Perfect.
The public are therefore left in a strange relationship with our government ministers, knowing more about their personal lives than perhaps ever before, whilst hearing government lines that reiterate the sanctity of politicians’ privacy. Rishi Sunak’s latest deflection willfully ignores the heightened public interest caused by a government that was, and still is, mired in scandal. Our reawakened understanding of the importance of our government ministers’ private lives cannot afford to be dismissed by the idea that our politicians are owed some sort of confidentiality in matters affecting their public service. Public scrutiny is one of the few, if not only, combative tools to government scandal and corruption, and may have already paid off given the Conservative Party’s standing in current polls.