MPs are only human like the rest of us – they deserve to log off and take a proper break this summer

You may not care about their general wellbeing, but tired, stressed and overworked people rarely do their job to the best of their ability. It is in everyone’s interests they do not break down, writes Marie Le Conte

For around six weeks every year, politics largely stopped (AFP/Getty)

If there was one message you could get across to every MP today, what would you tell them? I know what mine would be: I would beg them to log off.

Once upon a time, summer recess was a point when we heard little from our elected representatives. They returned to their constituency for over a month, took time off and tended to local matters. For around six weeks every year, politics largely stopped.

Well, that is what I am told happened – I started writing about politics in 2015, and every July and August since then has been more eventful than usual. In 2015, it was the Labour leadership contest; in 2016, the fallout from the referendum.

In 2017 and 2018, the Brexit wars meant that no one was allowed any time off; in 2019, Boris Johnson became prime minister. Last year was – you may remember – the year of the pandemic, and this year is no different. If British politics was ever boring when the sun was out, it has not been for a long time.

Still, events are only one part of the equation; the real culprit for our relentless and relentlessly tiring political culture is social media. As recently as ten years ago, MPs, hacks and pundits alike had to physically be in Westminster to really feel part of the debate.

When everyone left SW1 for recess, there was little space for people to plot, hash out policies or argue about the issue of the day. Like schoolchildren, they could leave to clear their heads then come back refreshed and ready for a fight in early September.

The internet put an end to that. No matter where you are in the world, it is now possible to receive and share gossip in WhatsApp groups. You can be on a beach, in a forest or at a service station, but never unable to partake in a Twitter spat. In short: there is no escape.

It is a problem for a number of reasons. For a start, and as anyone who has spent too much time arguing with strangers online can tell you, there is no healthy debate to be had in 280 characters. It is easy to forget when you are neck-deep in it, but taking even a small step back will make you realise that little can be achieved by scrolling through endless bad faith screaming matches. Would the tedious, all-encompassing culture wars have happened without Twitter? I find it hard to believe.

Secondly, Westminster can and does often feel claustrophobic; there is a reason why people refer to it both as a village and a bubble. It is easy for even the most well-meaning politicians to develop the wrong priorities, lose touch with their own beliefs or get caught up in unhelpful scheming.

Having a chance to leave it all behind for most of the summer usually ensures that they stay (broadly) sane. By going back to their constituencies, MPs get to spend more time with their loved ones and the people they represent, which tends to put things into perspective.

If the neverending soap opera of parliament remains easily accessible at all times, they never really get to leave SW1. It is both bad for their constituents, who deserve the attention of their MP as often as possible, but also for the politicians themselves.

You may not care about the general wellbeing of MPs, but they are ultimately human – and tired, stressed and overworked people rarely do their job to the best of their ability. It is in everyone’s interests that they do not break down.

Finally, it seems worth pointing out that mostly staying off social media for the summer would not be the same thing as abandoning their responsibilities altogether. Coronavirus cases keep rising and the pandemic isn’t over yet; the government still needs to be scrutinised.

What isn’t a vital part of democracy, however, is endless scrolling. Twitter may be addictive, but it isn’t going anywhere; vicious fights and pointless sniping will still be there when recess ends in September. In the meantime, members of parliament; please, please log off.