Right now, many members of the British public are casting their minds back to the haze of the early pandemic. Once again, former Health Secretary Matt Hancock dances across their television screens. The MP served in the governments of David Cameron, Theresa May and Boris Johnson before his unceremonious resignation from the cabinet in 2021. Alongside broadcaster Charlene White, comedian Seann Walsh and singer Boy George, he is one of twelve contestants on the current series of the hit ITV reality show I’m a Celebrity…Get Me Out of Here! For many years, the casting for the show has been met with jokes about who actually qualifies as a celebrity, yet the decision to include one of the leading politicians of the Johnson era is one of the most controversial in the series’ history. 

Surprisingly for many, ITV is not breaking new ground here – politicians have been tied up in British reality television for as long as it has been airing, and has usually resulted in negative responses from the general public and political class. Whether it’s two-time Conservative leadership candidate Penny Mordaunt appearing on the short-lived ITV diving competition Splash! in 2014 or ex-Labour MP George Galloway’s feline antics on Celebrity Big Brother in 2006, political legacies are never bolstered by taking a spin on the tracks of reality TV. Most often, we see a total car crash. We will have to wait to see how Hancock’s legacy fares in the jungle, but he is far from the first notable political figure to enter the realm of late-night reality viewing.

What is different, though, is the scale of Matt Hancock’s fame due to the pandemic. The scandal surrounding his breaching his own rules to have an affair still very much exists in public memory. Reality television is appealing because people can sit back and enjoy inconsequential entertainment without having to think about the stresses of the outside world. Yet, casting a disgraced ex-cabinet minister in one of the most popular TV shows in Britain seems to disrupt that.

While some may delight in seeing Hancock squirm as he is forced to eat an array of vomit-inducing delicacies, many others object to seeing a disgraced public figure on their screens every night. Television regulator Ofcom received just short of 2,000 complaints related to Hancock’s appearance on I’m a Celebrity only a few days into the new series. In response to these complaints, they wrote on their website that “under our rules, in principle… there’s no ban on any particular person taking part in programmes. However, if the mere presence of a person is likely to cause offence, we would expect broadcasters to take steps to mitigate or justify that offence. How they do that editorially is up to them.”

Hancock, an MP since 2010, was suspended from the Conservative Party for his involvement with the show and now sits as an independent. That’s hardly a punishment, though, given that he can return to his job after leaving the show and will remain in the role at least until the next election. We cannot uphold accountability when the person being held to account is an elected official, and there is no election in sight.

But what of the legacy of politics and reality TV being intertwined? Shows like I’m a Celebrity and Strictly Come Dancing have included a wide range of figures across political parties, from Boris Johnson’s father Stanley to Labour ministers Alan Johnson and Ed Balls as well as Liberal Democrat MP Lembit Öpik. For those who made appearances after their time in Parliament was done it was seen as more of a harmless piggyback off of their notoriety but the public remember political gaffes long after they took place. When Edwina Currie entered the jungle in 2014 she was remembered as “Eggwina”, the junior health minister who caused a rapid decline in the sales of British eggs with one misinformed comment about salmonella. Ann Widdecombe left the Celebrity Big Brother house as reviled as she was when she entered, and her antics helped drag queen Courtney Act, who did not hesitate to challenge Ann’s views on numerous occasions, win the series over her in the finals. 

For those who traded their commitments in Westminster for a cheque from a production company, the condemnation is understandably harsher. Until Matt Hancock returns from the jungle the people of his West Suffolk constituency have no representation in Parliament. Given that it is also well-known that eliminated contestants spend the remainder of the competition in a five-star hotel, it would not look good for a public servant to be living in the lap of luxury on ITV’s dime in the middle of a cost of living crisis. Even if the public reviles him enough to vote him out early on, he’s sure to have an enjoyable stay. Nadine Dorries had the Conservative whip suspended for appearing on I’m a Celebrity in 2012 but had it restored less than a year later and rose to become a prominent member of Johnson’s cabinet. These short-term punishments rarely prevent a politician from rising high after dipping their toe into reality TV.

A frequent tactic used by these politicians to justify their excursions from Parliament is to raise awareness for important issues. Penny Mordaunt split her £10,000 Splash! appearance fee between a constituency renovation project and four armed forces charities. In 2012, George Galloway boasted that his time on Celebrity Big Brother helped raise “tens of thousands of pounds” for Interpal, a Palestinian relief charity. Hancock is the latest follower of this line of thinking, arguing that he went into the jungle to raise awareness for his dyslexia campaign. However, many have acknowledged that he hasn’t spent much time talking about dyslexia so far. Would his campaign not be better served by his work in Parliament where his advocacy could drive genuine change – or at least, perhaps it could have driven change before he was suspended from his own party?

The Covid-19 Bereaved Families for Justice group has been particularly vocal in its opposition to Hancock’s stint in the jungle. Lobby Akinola, a member of the group who lost his father to coronavirus, said in a statement that “Matt Hancock isn’t a ‘celebrity’, he’s the former health secretary who oversaw the UK having one of the highest death tolls in the world from Covid-19 whilst breaking his own lockdown rules”. The group also notably flew a banner over the I’m a Celebrity camp in Australia which read “Covid bereaved say get out of here!”. 

To many, his appearance flies in the face of the people who couldn’t be by their dying relatives’ side or couldn’t attend their funerals because of the rules he set in place and subsequently broke. He is not a minor political figure looking for a quick buck and a silly joke – he was the face of the government’s response to the pandemic in the first year of lockdown and, in the eyes of many, contributed to Britain’s massive Covid death toll. He rightfully resigned for breaking the rules. His lack of integrity does not deserve a redemption arc, served up on a silver platter by ITV at the expense of the country’s grief.

People remembered why Edwina Currie was forced to resign when she went into the jungle almost thirty years later, and they definitely remember Hancock’s resignation last year. The ridiculousness of the affair scandal made him something of a public laughing stock, but I fear that this has crossed over into some having genuine empathy for him. If the previous examples of politicians entering the reality TV arena and the current public response are anything to go by, he will not come out of this looking good. Yet many will see him as a victim through his ITV spotlight. 

It was reported that he would be paid around £400,000 to do the show, one of the biggest payouts to a single contestant. While he gets a huge lump sum, his constituents lack representation and bereaved families struggle with seeing the face of a man who failed their family on their TV screens every night. Matt Hancock might not be a celebrity, but this show allows him to be celebrated for breaking the rules, and that is not right. Politicians serve the people; they should not entertain them, especially not those who have broken the trust of the British people. It paints a dangerous picture for the future of British politics when entertainment is more electable than integrity.