The seven lean years of John Major’s government seem to be at the root of this attempt to redefine resignation. According to LSE research, during the Major years 17 ministers resigned, and on a further 19 occasions newspapers demanded heads the prime minister refused to deliver. But the LSE calculates the political cost of resignation and weighs it against the cost of doing nothing. It concludes resignations can halt a decline in popularity, and so play a critical role in government survival. Tony Blair, however, initially tried to back every minister under media pressure: there was no resignation until the Welsh secretary Ron Davies had a “moment of madness” in October 1998. Since then, ministers of all ranks have resigned, but many have returned after scandals that would once, perhaps unjustly, have ended their careers.

“Seeing it through” has become a staple of political dialogue. Most famously, Mr Blair managed to see the Northern Ireland peace process through — although not, of course, Iraq. It is not just politicians who are non-resigners, as London’s police chief, Sir Ian Blair, has shown. Meanwhile, his assistant commissioner, Andy Hayman, appeared to resign, though without the penalty the public imagined. He remained on the Met payroll until he qualified for his full pension at the end of the year. After resigning over lost child-benefit data, the revenue chair, Paul Gray, was taken in by his old boss, the cabinet secretary. The “resignations” were, after all, for popular consumption. It is understandable that public figures should want to resist media witch-hunts. But institutional integrity is undermined by such sleight of hand.

So far, Gordon Brown has stood behind ministers under pressure. But soon the new incumbents’ period of grace will be over. Then, as Time magazine wrote with spectacular understatement during the Watergate crisis, a few resignations might help.

From an editorial in ‘The Guardian’, January 2