Following Bob Diamond's resignation on Tuesday, George Osborne said: "I think Bob Diamond's made the right decision for Barclays, also the right decision for the country because we need our banks focused on lending to the economy not on the scandals of the past." Meanwhile, Ed Miliband tweeted: "It was clear Bob Diamond was not the man to lead the change that Barclays needed, but this is about more than one man."

Well, here's a message for you Messrs Osborne and Miliband: how about you hold Nell Diamond's dick?

Who's Nell Diamond? She's Bob Diamond's 23-year-old daughter, and yesterday, she took to Twitter to extend the unusual invitation to the politicians. It's fair to say that her feelings on her father's sudden case of unemployment are unequivocal. "George Osborne and Ed Miliband you can go ahead and #HMD", she tweeted. Minutes later, perhaps realising the imprudence of her actions, she deleted the tweet and replaced it with the far less inflammatory: "No one in the world I admire more than my dad. 16yrs building Barclays. Shame to see the mistakes of few tarnish the hard work of so many."

Too late, Nell. If ever there was a group of people for whom there is little affection in the public's hearts, it's bankers. And for Ms Diamond to have typed those words – however hastily deleted – only serves to harden the hearts of ordinary people.

Nell Diamond, an alumnus of the Ivy League Princeton university, now works at Deutsche Bank. A quick browse through her timeline makes her appear a walking, tweeting example of the vast privilege that the wealthiest bankers enjoy. See Nell and her father making the "diamond Roc sign" at a Jay-Z and Kanye gig, admire the view from the front row of various fashion shows, envy the snaps of her classy footware. A penchant for expensive shoes and having a good time is no crime, of course, and certainly interests shared by countless other women of her age of all income brackets. But because of who she is – the daughter of a man who earns millions in salary and bonuses – they take on unfortunate connotations, becoming beacons of insensitivity to the plight of the millions affected by the actions of people who work in the same industry as her father.

We are urged to believe that when business is good, the credit lies at the feet of these celebrated titans of industry via huge salaries and bonuses. The successes justify the vast rewards, we're told. But when things go wrong, as they have for the last few years, they become petulant: it is unfair, they say, to blame them. The fault lies with the "few who tarnish the hard work of so many" as Nell Diamond's tweet has it. Why peevishly sweat the small stuff, when it is dwarfed by the magnitude of their contributions?

It was these contributions that Richard Branson referred to in his comments about the affair, while acknowledging a need for reform: "It is always sad to see somebody of the calibre of Bob Diamond resign," he said. "He was a great banker." The sentiment behind Diamond's tweet typifies an attitude among an elite who did well when the going was good, and who have always justified their remuneration as the just rewards for their expertise and business nous. Some seem to have a lasting sense of entitlement without a commensurate sense of responsibility.

On his blog, BBC politics editor Nick Robinson wrote: "Libor is to banking what the Millie Dowler case was to phone hacking." It's apt. When we thought that the only victims of the newspaper hacking were celebrities, we were not that bothered because it was felt that celebrities play the system. That changed with the Milly Dowler case. Bankers – and their families, perhaps – could learn a lesson in noblesse oblige from celebrities. Use the big bonuses as padding – and take some of the flak on the chin.

• Follow Comment is free on Twitter @commentisfree