While we titter about Damian Green and porn, Parliament has a serious harassment problem

“Parliament,” my friend joked, “really is full of”—well, you can guess. Damian Green, late of Theresa May’s cabinet, has been asked to resign after an investigation found that lying about pornography on his computer breached the ministerial code.

Aside from jokes like the above about MPs being literally what we always thought they were metaphorically, Twitter is tittering about Green “spending more time with his hobbies,” while the Houses of Parliament enjoy “a sudden increase in bandwidth.”

The rather arcane way in which Green was booted out—it was the lying about a supposed indiscretion, rather than engaging in it, that pushed him over the line—only adds to the wink-wink, nudge-nudge nature of the response.

Of course, a good few laughs are to be expected (and for journalists working shifts right up until Christmas, deservedly enjoyed). A minister has had to go after allegedly being found with pornography, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from the media—or the public.

Yet there is another set of allegations that has bigger import. The investigation in to Green’s behaviour didn’t only look at his browsing history; it also addressed accusations of harassment made against him by theatre critic and academic Kate Maltby.

After Maltby came forward with the allegations in early November, she was abused in the press. The Daily Mail ran a full-length photo of her in a corset and wheeled out, as has become de rigueur, another female journalist to lay in to her. Andrew Pierce quoted “friends” (of who, exactly?) who painted a picture of Maltby as an attention-seeking social climber.

I doubt any of the journalists involved will publicly recant, but they ought to: the investigation’s report falls short of saying the events happened exactly as Maltby described, but it has judged her account to be credible and plausible.

As Sky journalist Mollie Goodfellow pointed out on Twitter, it’s important that we not let the pornography allegations overshadow Maltby’s bravery.

That Green is now the second cabinet minister to lose his post after being accused of harassment by a woman journalist would, were it not for Brexit, be national reckoning stuff.

There is little sign that a reckoning is taking place. Late last month, Kevin Maguire wrote in the New Statesman of one particularly troubling incident in which Tory backbencher Andrew Bridgen passed on allegations against his colleague Dan Poulter and received, for his trouble, “a menaching buttonholing by a whip.”

“Bridgen was warned that he’d be the most hated man in the Tory party if he referred more colleagues,” Maguire writes. “That sounds like a threat to me.” (Poulter denies the allegations.)

Although this is disappointing, it’s not exactly surprising. As multiple women on both sides of the house have pointed out, having MPs' conduct and their votes policed by the same body creates a conflict of interest. What whip worth their salt would mete out proper punishment for bothering women when they could use the rumours to get Brexit legislation through?

If MPs had a job description, “able to go out for a drink with female journalists and not touch them” should be under “essential qualities”. At present, it’s under “desirable” at best.

This not only lets down women MPs, their staff, and the journalists who must rely on rumour to avoid those men who are a risk—it also lets down male MPs, who are being treated as if appropriate, respectful behaviour is somehow beyond them.

Like many feminists, I expect more of men (the majority of whom are able to treat women in a normal fashion, and are just as disgusted as I am by the thought of harassers being let off the hook). And with men holding nearly 70 per cent of seats in Parliament—close to 80 per cent in the Tory party—I expect the government to expect more of them, too.

Theresa May has now lost two men from her cabinet who it seems nobody expected more from. I hope she’s ready to hold the rest to higher standards. If she’s not, I’m sure there are plenty of women MPs who might help her.

As Jess Phillips wrote in the Sun, “I want us to be able to set the example that no matter who your friends are, no matter what your job is, you cannot treat people as playthings, and if you do you must face the consequences.”

Perhaps the only thing more heartening than that is the statement from Maltby’s parents, who—far from being ashamed, as Pierce suggested in his article—had this to say about their former friend’s fall:

“We have received many supportive messages from people near and far who appreciate Kate’s courage and the importance of speaking out about the abuse of authority.

‘We join with them in admiring her fortitude and serenity throughout the length of the investigation and despite the attempted campaign in certain sections of the media to denigrate and intimidate her and other witnesses. We are proud of her.”