Matthew d'Ancona: The real damage of cash-for-access may yet come for Cameron

In politics, every job has its perks. Earlier this month, David Cameron hosted a special screening at No 10 of Still Alice, the acclaimed movie that depicts the plight of a woman suffering from early-onset dementia. Though rarely star-struck, the PM was unashamedly thrilled to meet the film’s lead, Julianne Moore, who won an Oscar on Sunday for her performance. “I’m a great admirer of your work,” he said. “Oh, thank you,” replied the actress. “What in particular?” Cameron felt obliged to admit that he especially loved her guest performance in the US television comedy, 30 Rock. This answer had the merit of being completely honest.

Just as the occupants of No 10 get to meet Hollywood stars, so former senior ministers tend to expect that a lucrative portfolio of board positions and consultancies will be their reward as they plan their exit from the Commons. The days of “cash-for-questions” and paid advocacy may be a distant memory: it is 20 years since the Nolan Committee’s report established the seven principles of public life (selflessness, integrity, objectivity, accountability, openness, honesty, and leadership). Evidently, however, many of those MPs preparing for their final term, or for imminent departure, see no contradiction in seeking well-paid positions that exploit their contacts and experience.

As Monday’s Dispatches on Channel 4 demonstrated, even the most distinguished Commons elders, such as Sir Malcolm Rifkind and Jack Straw, have their engines ticking over on the taxi rank. Both Sir Malcolm and Mr Straw have long been considered Corinthian figures, straight-backed politicians untainted by the contaminations of “sleaze”, operators rather than spivs.

Each has had a remarkable career, and it would be monstrous if they were remembered principally for this lone tawdry incident. Fools rather than knaves, they have already paid a heavy price: Rifkind has lost the chairmanship of Parliament’s Intelligence and Security Committee (all-but-inevitable given his apparently cavalier approach to working for an ostensibly Chinese employer). His hopes of serving another term as Conservative MP for Kensington have been dashed. Straw, meanwhile, was confident on film that he would soon be elevated to the House of Lords. Now — not so much.

The strategic implications of this case are all bad. As one Cabinet member put it to me: “It just means good people will be all the more reluctant to become politicians because any attempt to supplement their income will be stamped on.” Well, yes. Underpinning this particular case are two related assumptions. First, that an MP’s salary (£67,000) is laughably small for anyone performing a prominent role in London, even when supplemented by the expenses still available to members.

Second, most politicians believe the skills, contacts and human capital which they accrue in Westminster can be discreetly converted into a decent living when they depart the Commons. Tony Blair is pilloried by former colleagues for his earnings since leaving office (£14 million a year, according to his most recent published accounts) — but their eyes are green when they complain. Former MPs expect more than a clock when they sign off.

Ed Miliband’s response to the Dispatches revelations looks strategic but is tactical — understandably so, given the proximity of the election. The Labour leader’s proposal that MPs be barred from supplementing their core salaries by more than 15 per cent is a canny echo of Cameron’s own cap on benefits-per-household. Without saying so, Miliband draws an implicit comparison between so-called welfare “scroungers” and their parliamentary counterparts.

Why has Labour gone on the attack when one of its own most prominent former Cabinet ministers is at the heart of the story? Because, as I have written before, different parties are vulnerable to different charges.

Labour suffers when it looks incompetent, emotional rather than rational, or lacking in fiscal discipline. The Tories are likewise disproportionately vulnerable to allegations of venality, and to the suspicion that they are a club of the rich rather than a national movement that stands up for every citizen.