We may be about to discover which one of the three types of embezzler Peter Murrell actually is

This is my latest column, published in today's Scotsman (23rd June 2026).

We may eventually hear the answer to an intriguing question from the SNP embezzlement case. Why would Peter Murrell, a successful and well-paid senior executive, risk it all by stealing to buy luxury goods he didn’t need, mostly didn’t use, and could probably have afforded anyway?

In many ways, the case was straightforward, common thievery with a large slice of breach of trust. The only complications were the massive scale, the unusually long timescale, and the fact that some people who should have helped the police, seemingly didn’t.

Apart from the scale, it reminded me of the kind of case young detectives get as they gain experience. My first embezzlement was at an old family sweetie factory. It turned out that the loyal old secretary had been feeding a crazy shopping habit, and it was only when she went on holiday that the wrappers came off.

It was understandable in a way. Despite a century’s contribution to tooth decay, there was no effective oversight of the company’s finances. Before computer spreadsheets, many small businesses were vulnerable to such pilferage but it’s harder to understand how a large political organisation that holds power over multi-million-pound budgets can have been so inadequately protected.

Embezzlement tends to happen for one of three reasons: need, greed, or compulsion. The needy are those who ‘borrow’ to make ends meet, intending to repay, but never quite can. The second category includes those addicted to the better things in life who don’t see why they shouldn’t have them.

Then there’s the online gambling addicts and the shopaholics. In these cases, multiple repeat purchases are common. My sweetie factory embezzler had 47 pairs of new shoes, all of similar style, unused in their boxes. Such offenders are often more to be pitied than despised for they are pursuing happiness through shiny new objects – a futile exercise if ever there was.

Decent systems of governance should nip such compulsive behaviour in the bud, and certainly long before a decade has passed and hundreds of thousands has been pilfered.

It’s all a dreary commentary on public life, but for me the saddest thing about this case is the public response. Instead of outrage and surprise, I have mainly encountered weary smiles and resigned shrugs: “What do you expect from politicians – they are all the same.”

Except of course they are not. Most politicians are principled and honest but, make no mistake, this is another blow to the public trust, already dangerously low. And as trust declines, so more and more people disengage.

At the last Scottish elections, just over half the eligible voters cast their ballot and the winning party won a little over a third of the vote. Think about that for a minute. Our government was elected by just over a sixth of the electorate!

If this decline in interest in voting continues, watch out for more bizarre consequences, especially within our Scottish Parliament list system. Expect more oddballs and party retreads who have been rejected from other elected posts.

We deserve better. We cannot let cynicism be the only winner from this unedifying case. We cannot afford to disengage from our political processes. Indeed this should act as a wake-up call to engage more closely.