Politicians in general that is.
Many, when asked, will say that their own MSP or MEP, councillors or MP is just fine, but if you ask them about politicians en masse, they will describe them in less than flattering terms, mentioning expenses, self interest, or laziness.
Whilst it certainly represents some of them, it by no means is true of them all. But it is the general opinion, nonetheless.
They have brought a lot of it on themselves, of course. There were expenses scandals in the London parliament's Commons and Lords (and I say scandals, because no sooner had the Telegraph's and Times's investigations died down than it started all over again, with MPs and Lords finding new ways of getting around new restrictions).
There are also the long holidays, the empty chambers, the "sleeping" after a heavy "lunch", the subsidised food and drink and the behaviour at ministers' questions (particularly PMQs), more reminiscent of playtime in a primary school than a chamber.
We know that politicians, in common with other people, can be very career minded, and that party loyalty eases the route up the greasy pole to ministerial office and the possibility of "making history".
So frequently we suspect that politicians are acting in the best interests of their own careers rather than the best interests of their constituents.
Clearly, this partly-justified mistrust of elected representatives trickles down to those individuals who have not yet reached, and maybe never will reach, political prominence, advisors, potential candidates for the future.
Such is our distrust of political figures that we are far more likely to believe an "ordinary person".
So when a party or movement wish to make a point, rather than saying "Alistair Darling says" or "Johann Lamont says" or "Alex Salmond says", knowing that a large proportion of the public will take the "oh, he or she would say that" attitude, sometimes they encourage a non political figure to speak out for "ordinary people".
The trouble is that in the days of internet communication, with social media sites as popular as Facebook and Twitter are, it pays to be very careful to ensure that your "ordinary person" is ordinary. Otherwise, with just one Tweet, the whole thing can start to unravel.
It seems that this happened in the case of "No Thanks" (another one of the names that the No campaign has come up with with immediately lends itself,with the changing of just one letter, to ridicule) which attributed a statement to a totally ordinary mum, bringing up a disabled child.
In as much as "politician" is seen to be bad, "mum" is good. Mums know the price of milk and the struggle of putting food on the table for their families. mums are voter friendly. And so Better Together went with "mum".
I had no notion of who Ms Lally is, nor did I care. But I do now know that she indeed a mum, and he does have twins, one of which is disabled. I also know that she is a political activist and at least an advisor to Johann Lamont's team as a member of the shadow cabinet.
My point is that UKOK, Better Together, No Thanks, call them whatever you will, represented her as an ordinary mum, and that alone to court her credibility. She may well be an ordinary mum; she is also a member of Ms Lamont's shadow cabinet team, which makes her a political person with an agenda.
That makes Better Together (or whatever) at least dishonest, don't you think.
But has nothing to do with Ms Lally per se. Although she has apparently refused to accept an abject apology for an incorrect assertion that she was related to Pat Lally, of Glasgow Labour fame, and has maintained that she has been serially abused on Twitter, whilst refusing to actually let anyone see this abuse.
Many, when asked, will say that their own MSP or MEP, councillors or MP is just fine, but if you ask them about politicians en masse, they will describe them in less than flattering terms, mentioning expenses, self interest, or laziness.
Whilst it certainly represents some of them, it by no means is true of them all. But it is the general opinion, nonetheless.
They have brought a lot of it on themselves, of course. There were expenses scandals in the London parliament's Commons and Lords (and I say scandals, because no sooner had the Telegraph's and Times's investigations died down than it started all over again, with MPs and Lords finding new ways of getting around new restrictions).
There are also the long holidays, the empty chambers, the "sleeping" after a heavy "lunch", the subsidised food and drink and the behaviour at ministers' questions (particularly PMQs), more reminiscent of playtime in a primary school than a chamber.
We know that politicians, in common with other people, can be very career minded, and that party loyalty eases the route up the greasy pole to ministerial office and the possibility of "making history".
So frequently we suspect that politicians are acting in the best interests of their own careers rather than the best interests of their constituents.
Clearly, this partly-justified mistrust of elected representatives trickles down to those individuals who have not yet reached, and maybe never will reach, political prominence, advisors, potential candidates for the future.
Such is our distrust of political figures that we are far more likely to believe an "ordinary person".
So when a party or movement wish to make a point, rather than saying "Alistair Darling says" or "Johann Lamont says" or "Alex Salmond says", knowing that a large proportion of the public will take the "oh, he or she would say that" attitude, sometimes they encourage a non political figure to speak out for "ordinary people".
The trouble is that in the days of internet communication, with social media sites as popular as Facebook and Twitter are, it pays to be very careful to ensure that your "ordinary person" is ordinary. Otherwise, with just one Tweet, the whole thing can start to unravel.
It seems that this happened in the case of "No Thanks" (another one of the names that the No campaign has come up with with immediately lends itself,with the changing of just one letter, to ridicule) which attributed a statement to a totally ordinary mum, bringing up a disabled child.
In as much as "politician" is seen to be bad, "mum" is good. Mums know the price of milk and the struggle of putting food on the table for their families. mums are voter friendly. And so Better Together went with "mum".
I had no notion of who Ms Lally is, nor did I care. But I do now know that she indeed a mum, and he does have twins, one of which is disabled. I also know that she is a political activist and at least an advisor to Johann Lamont's team as a member of the shadow cabinet.
My point is that UKOK, Better Together, No Thanks, call them whatever you will, represented her as an ordinary mum, and that alone to court her credibility. She may well be an ordinary mum; she is also a member of Ms Lamont's shadow cabinet team, which makes her a political person with an agenda.
That makes Better Together (or whatever) at least dishonest, don't you think.
But has nothing to do with Ms Lally per se. Although she has apparently refused to accept an abject apology for an incorrect assertion that she was related to Pat Lally, of Glasgow Labour fame, and has maintained that she has been serially abused on Twitter, whilst refusing to actually let anyone see this abuse.







