So David Davis, in wasting thousands of pounds of taxpayers money in a farce of a by-election, has answered my question. Sadly, his answer is exceedingly pedestrian. It’s revealed in the Treasury press release that announced his appointment to the Chiltern Hundreds:

The Chancellor of the Exchequer has today appointed the Right Honourable David Michael Davis to be Steward and Bailiff of the Three Hundreds of Chiltern. The Chancellor has also granted Mr Davis’s request to be released from this appointment today.

For the first time in many years, no-one is Stewarding or, er, Bailiffing the hundreds of Stoke, Desborough, and Burnham. Let’s hope they don’t get away.

The Tories’ Henley by-election candidate, John Howell, has been caught with briefing notes apparently aimed to help him appear “normal”, with information about the cost of basic produce in the supermarket – a revelation surely more damaging than just admitting you don’t know.

It’s an amusing insight into the Conservative campaign, but its exposure by the Liberal Democrats reminds me of one of the most memorable incidents in the 2006 midterms, when soon to be ousted Virginia Senator George Allen was caught using the slur “macaca” against an opposition activist.

What made a big difference to the impact of Allen’s comment – and the ability to prove what he’d said – was that the incident was caught on video. It suggested a new type of campaigning, where activists follow their opponents around hoping to catch a similar error.

This step change hasn’t happened – and with limited resources, campaigns sensibly use these on methods with clear benefits, rather than risking waiting for a slip-up that never comes. In the case of the John Howell incident, it looks like the photographer was in the right place at the right time. But the thousand words of a photograph are far more effective than a verbal claim about what was spotted. It should serve as a reminder to politicians that modern – and not so modern – technology can catch even the smallest revealing mistake in amber.

I’ve been wondering recently what would happen, procedurally, if an MP resigned and then stood in the by-election they caused.

Members of Parliament can’t resign from the seats, so they have to take another job that disqualifies them. For example, Boris Johnson sparked the Henley by-election by becoming Crown Steward and Bailiff of the Manor of Northstead. When an MP defects between parties, it’s often suggested that they should resign and fight a by-election to get a new mandate (not that this ever happens). So I was wondering how they could fight a new by-election if they held an office that disqualified them from sitting as an MP. Presumably, they would have to take the office, then resign it again and leave it vacant (and I’m not sure these offices are ever usually vacant). Or someone else, not an MP, would have to take over.

Tory MP David Davis is planning to quit as an MP and fight a by-election. He’ll take the Chiltern Hundreds, succeeding Tony Blair. But who will replace him? Will he resign from that office? These are important questions, folks.

…were covered in an interesting discussion event I attended last week. It was organised by the Open Rights Group and the British Computer Society.

The event was built around the ideas put forward in Professor Jonathan Zittrain’s book The Future of the Internet and How to Stop It and Jonathan was joined by technology journo Bill Thompson and chair Becky Hogge, the Executive Director of the ORG.

Rather than me write up my half-remembered interpretations, the wonders of modern technology can save me a lot of work by transporting you right there: the whole event was recorded and you can listen on the ORG website.