Let’s call him John because, well, it's as good a name as any.
He’s one of my fellow parish councillors. He’s white, retired, middle class, been a councillor since the year dot – pretty standard fare.
John made one of his rare visits to the parish council last month and sat and listened to a debate on a proposed parish plan. It’s something we have been working on for a several months. We’ve been trying to involve the wider community and establish an independent organising committee.
John wouldn’t know that because he only manages to attend about six months of the year and for long periods he’s on holiday.
So we’re all listening to an expert tell us how we can take this idea forward.
John leans forward and pronounces that it all seems a waste of time because it’s a duplication of effort. He then leans back and adds that he won’t vote against it though, he’ll just abstain. That’s his sole contribution for the evening. Not sure when we’ll see him again.
I sit there open mouthed.
He’s come in half-way through a discussion and doesn’t bother to inform himself. He condemns the idea but can’t even be bothered to vote against it. And otherwise he makes no contribution to the running of the council. Nada. Zero.
I’m not sure what is more depressing. The fact that Johns are impossible to oust (unless they fail to turn up for six months) or that so few people are banging on the door wanting to sit in their place.