The Augean stables of public life

Amidst the convulsions in the press, politics and public life generally surrounding the News International affair, there have been one or two low-profile suggestions that - wait for it - the public aren't really that interested. For example, the Westminster Diary in last weekend's Sunday Post asked: "Are the people of the UK really all that interested in all of this? Are they not still more concerned with jobs, schools and hospitals? Might they even be thinking that the political class has got its priorities wrong?"

Indeed, like the Westminster expenses scandal a couple of years ago I would have to admit to feeling a bit blasé about it all, which is clearly a view slightly out of kilter with the current affairs zeitgeist, the odd loneish voice like that quoted above excepted.

Of course, there are matters of great import at stake, but then again there are plenty other matters of great import that barely merit a mention at times, never mind amidst the current wall-to-wall coverage of the NI scandal.

I mean, who on earth cares if some celebrity has had their phone hacked, other than people who ordinarily care about some celebrities? Did I read that an official in a commercial organisation had been awarded £750,000 damages for having his phone hacked? Well I can't be bothered checking this, but if it's even remotely correct then I wish someone would hack my phone. Except that a person of my lowly status would probably have to pay someone to do it rather than be compensated for it.

Of course, hacking the phones of victims of serious crime is of a different order altogether, but perhaps the point is that in many ways the current furore seems to be treating that as more serious than the original crime.

However, it's not difficult to rationalise the current media and political storm and to compare this to the perhaps more circumspect approach in certain quarters, this blogger included.

Thus the press and commentariat are merely following their normal approach of highlighting and sensationalising (to a greater or lesser extent) those issues they deem important. Moreover, this particular issue is doubly attractive to the press because it concerns the travails of a major player in that business sector, thus kicking it when it's down is both a journalistic and a commercial imperative. This has been particularly evident as regards the Sunday newspaper market, with the circulation gap created by the demise of the NotW.

By the same token, an opportunistic and self-righteous political class see it as the chance to bite the hand that has fed them and get away with it. Thus the usual mix of hyperbole and hypocrisy, perhaps best exemplified by Gordon Brown's House of Commons speech last week and David Cameron's ongoing attempts to make the best of his employment of Andy Coulson.

But in general the revelations of the last few weeks have left me only slightly irked - isn't that what politicians, the press and the police do, haven't they always done it and won't they always do it?

Of course, that's by no means to claim that there isn't decency, honour and honesty in all these sections of society, but the current debacle certainly won't clear up the shortcomings. Naturally there will be official enquiries, court cases and commercial changes, and indeed no doubt in some respects things will improve. But in true Augean stable style the corruption, illegality and sharp practices in other facets of public life will remain, and of course in others still such problems will appear where there are none now.

But neither the expenses scandal nor the NI imbroglio have really changed my view of the institutions involved. It's really just a question of who gets found out and who gets away scot free. And to that extent which issues the press and politicians choose to highlight and which they choose to keep under wraps.

Take the issue of the two senior Metropolitan Police officers who have resigned, for example. Honourable exceptions to the modern rule that those at the top only carry the can in the most exceptional circumstances, perhaps? Or does the fact that they seemed to fall on their swords relatively easily suggest an ulterior motive - particularly with one telling us how honestly and uprightly he'd conducted himself - for example more skeletons in the cupboard, a big fat pay-off and pension, or a cushy number lined up elsewhere?

Of course, no doubt there are a million and one words on that very subject a mere mouse click or two away, but frankly I can't even be bothered looking.

But it's clearly easy to equate this blasé-ness with defeatism. Personally, perhaps this is a plausible criticism, particularly as regards Westminster and London. Hence perhaps my main interest these days is in stopping a mini-me version being replicated in Holyrood and Scotland, or at least insofar as a humble blogger can hope to make an impression against the shortcomings of the Scottish political, press and policing establishment.