When Brian Donohoe lost Central Ayrshire in 2015, he had a final message for his constituents – “f**k off”. He elaborated to local reporters: “I can now turn round with the greatest delight and tell people to ‘f**k off’ which I haven’t been able to do..
. You have to take all sorts coming through the door and be kind, considerate and generous with your time and sometimes you wonder why.” Donohoe tells me now that he still hears from politicians saying, “We just wish we could say that to some of these people.
” He is far from the only MP who has discovered the benefits of losing one’s seat. There can be no sacking quite like the one delivered at 3am in a school gymnasium, amid the odour of generations of feet, as you stand next to a competitor dressed as a giant fish finger – who’s taken a few votes off you. And there’s nowhere to hide: depending on seniority, your face is specially beamed on television so that a gleeful electorate can rejoice at the exact moment your heart breaks.
Past elections have offered such spectacles as the furious indignation of David Mellor, the quiet devastation of Michael Portillo, and the sheer weirdness of Lembit Opik playing harmonica and cajoling us to “lend us the price of a cup of tea”. However, members currently mulling an update to their LinkedIn profiles should instead emulate Donohoe, who was, he says, “elated” to lose. Recovering politicians can sleep easier knowing they need never hit the campaign trail.