FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE, an early advocate of European unity, introduced the concept of the Übermensch, a heroic figure whose concerns rise above those of ordinary beings. The European Parliament, home to a number of political also-rans and second-raters, is not overflowing with such specimens. But it neatly embodies another of the philosopher’s ideas: the will to power.

Armed with the superficially attractive argument that it is the only European institution directly accountable to voters, the parliament has accrued powers over the past few decades. Like a child receiving sweets, each goody it acquires feeds its demands for more. Since the first European elections in 1979 the parliament has earned the right to veto appointments to the European Commission (the EU’s executive arm, reshuffled every five years), won approval rights for the vast majority of EU legislation, and expanded, as the EU enlarged to central and eastern Europe, to 751 members, making it one of the largest parliamentary chambers in Europe. Its political groupings may be unwieldy and its priorities sometimes odd, but it is no longer Europe’s ugly duckling.

Much of the parliament’s legislative work is tedious, technical and of interest only to lobbyists. But every five years it interrogates the individuals nominated for posts in the European Commission, and it relishes the opportunity. This year is no exception: this week and next the 27 candidate commissioners (one from each EU member; the president is spared) are enduring three-hour grillings on their respective policy areas at the hands of MEPs, some of them well-informed, others merely peacocking before the press or their colleagues. In previous years the parliament has used the threat of a veto to force commission presidents to reject candidates it finds unseemly or incompetent. It could do so again this time: after failing to convince first time around, some have been asked to return for a second hearing.

But whatever happens this month the parliament has already left its mark, thanks to a clever manoeuvre executed by its largest political groups several months ago. Before May’s European elections the leaders of the groups proposed so-called Spitzenkandidaten, candidates for the presidency of the European Commission, perhaps the most important job within the EU. Some heads of government, including David Cameron, Britain’s prime minister, and Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, saw this as an unseemly power grab; in previous years they had stitched up the job between themselves. But their objections were ignored: in May the centre-right European People’s Party (EPP) won the most seats, and its Spitzenkandidat, Jean-Claude Juncker, duly took the commission job. Few think that was a one-off. Notably, parliamentary types now speak casually of “our commission”.

Spitzenkandidaten, say the parliament’s cheerleaders, are an answer to critics who complain that there is no such thing as a European electorate, only 28 national ones. This time, voters across the continent were able to weigh the political merits of various individuals and, indirectly, to vote for the one they preferred. Manfred Weber, chair of the EPP, says he also detected the emergence of pan-European debates for the first time: on a proposed free-trade deal with America, and on budget-cutting within the euro zone. Another senior parliamentarian says the unparalleled involvement of EU members in one another’s affairs after the euro crisis is helping shape something like a European “demos”, even if it is rather uglier than some might have hoped.

That is probably an exaggeration: polling found that the Spitzenkandidaten motivated just 12% of voters in Germany and Austria, and even fewer everywhere else. Television debates between the candidates were lifeless affairs. But for MEPs and others, this is just the beginning: look how long, they say, it took for America’s federal institutions to settle in. And why stop here? As the parliament’s powers grow, its political groupings are exerting more control over their members, just as in national legislatures. Enthusiastic parliamentarians long for a budget commensurate with their ambitions (the EU’s amounts to a piddling 1% of GDP), and for the right to propose, rather than merely approve, new laws. The rise of the European Parliament, they say, is nothing more than the slow march of democracy into the EU.

Human, all too human

Yet it does not feel like that. Just as steadily as it has expanded its powers, the European Parliament has been losing votes. Turnout in European elections has dropped from 62% in 1979 to just 43% this year (though that is a little more than in elections to the American congress). And grumpy outfits opposed to the whole affair, such as the United Kingdom Independence Party or France’s Front National, are thriving; anti-establishment parties of various hues won around one-third of the parliament’s seats this year.

There is an irony to this. Eurosceptics tend to leave the nitty-gritty of committee work and lawmaking to the insiders. And since May the parliamentary arithmetic has meant that the two biggest groups—the EPP and the centre-left Party of European Socialists—must now work together in a mushy, grand-coalition way to get things done. This is vintage EU: a grumpy outburst from voters leads to a strengthening of the status quo.

Does any of this matter? Most big decisions about foreign policy, economic governance and the like are still taken by meetings of heads of government as the European Council; the concerns that matter most to voters lie generally with national governments. But the parliament’s influence will be felt beyond the bubbles of Brussels or Strasbourg (its second, expensive home). In the coming years it will play a crucial role in debates on trade, the digital economy and energy policy. And by hugging the commission close it has already helped shape Mr Juncker’s priorities. Not quite an Überparliament. But it is trying.

Economist.com/blogs/charlemagne