Back in the summer of 1986, when I arrived on Parliament Hill as a rookie member of the press gallery, I was awestruck – not by the concentration of raw power but by the number of entitlements available to those lucky enough to work inside the parliamentary precinct.

Here I was, with an office in the Centre Block with a breathtaking view of the Ottawa River and a soft-drink machine converted to dispense beer for 50¢ a pop. (I used to measure my workload in terms of one-beer or two-beer stories – three, if I had to do a weekend feature.)

There was the parliamentary restaurant, where two could dine comfortably and still get change back from 10 bucks, many cafeterias from which I could get a big breakfast for less than $2 and, of course, the illegal liquor store in the West Block. Oh, did I mention that I got free parking downtown?

The liquor store was a special place for me because it was there that I learned something about the anatomy of power. It wasn’t a store, per se. There was a sliding blind in a dark hall impossible to spot unless you knew it was there. You knocked and a supply clerk slid open the window, took your money and handed you your order and slid down the blind, all in about 90 seconds.

This way, the House of Commons administration could maintain deniability, as in: “What illegal liquor store? We had no idea illegal alcohol was on the Hill.”

I often wondered if these perks were being made available to keep me quiet about the privileges enjoyed by MPs and senators. But one thing I understood clearly: entitlement was deeply entrenched in the political system. At Queen’s Park in Toronto, the press gallery had an illegal pub, with an OPP sergeant pouring the drinks.

And the rules governing entitlement have always been as vague as the rules of the ancient senate of Rome on the difference between ambitus (political bribery) and benignitas (an act of kindness). The rules governing our Senate are just as vague, and there is a chance that Mike Duffy really was technically within his rights to pay himself for living in his own house.

I have learned that perks in any legislature or centre of power are like an open bar. Enjoy, but self-control is your responsibility. Should you make a pig of yourself, the system will get rid of you – no matter what the rules say.

This is why the people who chose Duffy for the Senate would rather not be in the same hemisphere as their former star fundraiser or why Alberta Conservatives can’t get Alison Redford the hell out of Dodge fast enough.

Another lesson I’ve learned was that everything can be against the rules or nothing can be against the rules, depending on where you were in the food chain.

These are the secrets of the temple.

Years after my initiation into this temple, I wrote a story about the head of a federal agency who lived in west-end Ottawa but would stay at the Chateau Laurier on any flimsy excuse, get her dry cleaning done there on the taxpayers’ tab and even had the morning newspapers sent to her home by taxi from downtown. I wrote that story because four other people on the Hill blew the whistle on her.

The government of the day not only canned her, it got rid of the agency she headed, throwing 20 people out of work.

Over the years, the beer machines in the press gallery (and in the MPs’ private lounge) has disappeared. The illegal liquor store is gone and the parliamentary restaurant serves mediocre food at five-star prices.

You can be sure other entitlements have taken the place of the perks that have disappeared, just as the unwritten rule of not bringing undue attention to the system still applies.

Anyone seeking elected office or a government appointment should be mindful that intelligent people can succumb to entitlement and do awfully stupid things. It is an occupational hazard.

Ask Joe Fontana, who recently lost every shred of his reputation over a stupid act of petty fraud 17 years ago, when he was a federal minister. Or the Alberta deputy minister with a wallful of legitimately earned degrees who inexplicably decided she could give herself another one on her CV. Take, the system seems to say, but don’t get caught. If you do, you’re on your own.

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