David thought she was with Samantha. Samantha thought she was with David. “Poor Nancy Cameron”, we all exclaimed, amidst wider concerns that this could prove embarrassing coming on the same day the government re-launched its troubled families programme.
Well, I say wider concerns. But let’s be honest; the majority of the comments following news that David Cameron left his eight-year-old daughter in a pub by accident have been mocking; at a push, satirical. We could not be happier that our Prime Minister has screwed up so royally, nor that this clearly proves his inadequacies as this country’s leader.
“It’s frightening the Prime Minister of Britain can forget something so important as his own daughter”, a pub insider said.
Really? Are we really going to use this isolated incident which, let’s be honest, many parents have been guilty of at least once, to judge his politics?
Any comparisons to the troubled families programme, which is meant to identify and help families that drain an estimated £9 billion a year from the taxpayer is frankly not only embarrassing but also devalues any other valid criticisms we have of him. Because many, quite rightly, complain that David Cameron is “out of touch” with the voters. The silver spoon he was born with has clearly been re-moulded into blinkers, as budgetary decisions which seem to reward the rich at the expense of the poor continue to perpetuate. It is no wonder, therefore, that his government has come under constant attack, not only from 82% of the voting public, but also from some of his very own backbenchers. Nadine Dorries, as an example, recently branded he and George Osborne as “two arrogant posh boys who show no remorse, no contrition and no passion to want to understand the lives of others”.
The country has been divided between criticising and laughing at our Prime Minister, following pubgate. But what about finally treating him as the normal man we want him to be? By acting so disbelieving of what is little more than a simple human error, we are perpetuating the notion that he is superior to us. He is not. He is not superhuman, and whilst he may not have to worry about his own personal finances, his job description demands that he damn well worries about ours. Reminding him that this could, and does, happen to anyone, instead of keeping him up on the pedestal he seems to be afraid of descending might actually be beneficial for us in the long run.