Rein in these mischievous Westminster elves before they lose plot

THE role of the special adviser is a murky one in politics. In fact, it’s fair to say that most normal people don’t even know the job exists. They assume – not entirely unreasonably – that the MPs and Ministers we elect to run the country are, for the most part, the architects of their own ideas and policies.

To some extent that is true. Elected members hold the reins of Government, decide the general direction of travel and overall strategy. But when it comes to the details, the nitty-gritty, the day-to-day micro-decisions that make up the overall picture, it’s the unelected special advisers – aka Spads – who really matter.

As a breed, they remind me rather of Dobby the house elf in Harry Potter. Although physically very different – house elves are small, wizened creatures, whereas Spads are generally absurdly young and good-looking, with shiny first-class degrees and slim-fit shirts that show off their toned abs – in every other respect they fit the profile perfectly.

Intensely tribal, not afraid to get their hands dirty and always on hand, night or day, to do their master’s – or mistress’s – bidding.

I’ve known them to take Ministers clothes shopping, help organise personal training, choose ties, recommend hairdressers, pop to the shops for emergency tights, order Deliveroo, pay traffic fines.

They write speeches, devise strategies, broker deals and advise on policies. Crucially, and unlike civil servants, they are on the Minister’s side.

Most of the time they are charming, affable creatures, eager to please and a joy to have around. But cross them, or their boss, and they swiftly turn to the dark arts. Uniquely skilled – often surprisingly so given their tender age – they can perform feats of magic no one quite understands, but which invariably result in their

I REALISE this makes me a bad person, but it brings me considerable joy that ‘healthy’ vegan meals have been found to contain higher levels of salt than ‘evil’ meat versions. I don’t mind what people eat – but vegan evangelists can be awfully smug. This might shut them up. For about three seconds.

enemies having a very unpleasant time of it indeed.

Last week has been a case in point. Liam Booth-Smith, the Chancellor’s Chief of Staff (aka top Spad) has been accused of briefing against the Prime Minister in a bid to promote his man.

It was claimed Booth-Smith was the source behind a tweet by BBC Political Editor Laura Kuenssberg, which said: ‘There is a lot of concern inside the building about the PM. It’s just not working.’ Whether he was or not, the fact that Booth-Smith was a Dominic Cummings appointment (former house elf in chief, and the most mischievous of them all) has not helped the Treasury’s denials. The truth is that sort of behaviour is true to form. In fact, given my experience of Spads over the years and the feverish, gladiatorial

TRUST psychologists to come up with a test to check whether your cat is a psychopath. Whatever next? A quiz to determine if the Pope has a tendency to be Catholic?

atmosphere that prevails among these Westminster demigods, it doesn’t surprise me one bit.

Because Spads aren’t in it just to make sure their bosses don’t embarrass themselves. They know Spaddery is a path to power. The kind of power that requires no accountability and carries no responsibility.

The greater their Minister’s prestige, the more power comes their way. Important people begin to take notice of them, invitations come their way, doors that were previously locked begin to open. They become the conduit for influence – an intoxicating notion for anyone. That is why they often lose the plot when their employers do finally achieve power. Unbridled by the codes of conduct that govern civil servants (although technically they are supposed to abide by the same standards), they begin to throw their weight around. It happened to Tony Blair and Alastair Campbell, to David Cameron and Steve Hilton – and, of course, to Boris Johnson and Dominic Cummings.

As entertaining as this may be for those in Westminster, for the rest of the country it’s not only deeply off-putting, but also counterproductive. And while no one is suggesting that Spads don’t have a significant role to play in the business of government, the time has surely come to rein Dobby in.