Why should MPs get an inflation-busting pay rise?

They will now earn more than twice as much as the average worker, writes John Rentoul

Salaries in the British parliament are lower than in many similar countries (AFP/Getty)

MPs are to receive a rise in pay to £82,000 a year, it was confirmed yesterday – 2.7 times as much as the median full-time worker on £30,000. What are the arguments for and against such largesse?

First, the case for the defence. MPs are entitled to point out that they no longer set their own pay. Since 2010, in the wake of the expenses scandal, it has been decided by the Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority. Indeed, it could be argued that pay was kept low for decades because the House of Commons was so embarrassed about voting for its own salaries.

This year’s 3.1 per cent rise – compared with inflation, which is currently running at 1.8 per cent – was intended to keep MPs’ pay in line with the average in the public sector.

Despite that, salaries in the British parliament are lower than those in many similar countries. Australia, Canada, Germany and Italy all pay more than the equivalent of £100,000 a year, and Japanese MPs are paid more than £200,000.

All the same, £82,000 is generous enough to put MPs in the top 3 per cent of earners, and there are two main arguments that it should be lower. One is the traditional demand of the populist left, that an MP should take the average worker’s wage. Nadia Whittome, the Labour MP for Nottingham East elected in December, promised to take home only £35,000 of her salary, and to donate the rest to local charities.

This is an impressive gesture, so it seems unkind to point out that she chose the mean full-time earnings figure, which is higher than the median – and that she said she would take it after tax. But her argument is powerful: “It’s saying workers need a pay rise – carers, teaching assistants, nurses – and I’ll take mine when they take theirs.”

Then there is the argument of the populist right, that public opinion will not support a bloated bill for the political class, so we need to “cut the cost of politics”. Conservatives tend to focus on overall numbers rather than individual salaries. David Cameron tried to reduce the number of MPs from 650 to 600, but it proved impossible to persuade MPs to abolish their own seats. Attempts to limit the size of the House of Lords have also proved unsuccessful, as prime ministers discover the value of baubles in buying off political trouble.

In the end, we may have arrived at the least bad balance between competing priorities. The idea that MPs have to be paid a lot to attract people who would otherwise go into law or banking is unconvincing: people go into politics for the glory (and, of course, to make the world a better place), and if they are deterred it is by the invasion of privacy rather than by the supposed lack of money.

MPs are paid enough not to have to worry about money, but not so much that most people would think they are only in it for the money.