Thank heavens for Betsy

At Alfred Roberts’s grocery store in Grantham in the 1930s, husband, wife and daughters all took their turn behind the counter. For any Conservative, the decision to employ other family members in one’s business ought to come across as an act of pragmatism. Indeed, the efficiency of such an arrangement is appreciated not just by Conservatives, as Leo Beckett, beavering away in the office of his wife Margaret, will attest.

Yet for Betsy Duncan Smith, a spell of employment in the office of her husband Iain has turned out to be the subject of suspicion and speculation that may yet fatally undermine the Conservative leadership. Iain Duncan Smith finds himself in the uncomfortable position of being expected to produce documentation more in keeping with the employment practices of a sclerotic state bureaucracy than with the running of a private office. Did he fill out a time sheet for his wife, Jeremy Paxman demanded to know on Newsnight the other evening, and if not, why not? If Iain Duncan Smith really had spent his time devising clocking-in arrangements for his wife, it would not be a sign of efficient administration; it would be a disqualification from the leadership of a political party committed to reducing bureaucratic waste.