THE newly-elected Conservative MP for Totnes, Sarah Wollaston, entered Parliament with great gusto in May 2010. A doctor for 24 years, she had given little thought to politics until shortly before winning a surprise Tory ticket; she assumed she would be able to contribute to public health policy. But what she found in the House of Commons dismayed her. There was, it seemed, not much for an accomplished backbencher to do. Parliament’s arcane ways were another turn-off. “All that yah-boo stuff,” Dr Wollaston shudders. “Why is that any use to anybody?”

Like many Tory MPs newly elected in 2010—of whom there are 146 at present, fully 48% of the party’s total—she has since become disenchanted with a job once considered among the most prestigious in the land. Parachuted into politics, like most of her swollen intake, partly due to a mass exodus of MPs embroiled in a petty corruption scandal, she is acutely aware of the low esteem in which politicians are held. Many newcomers—though not Dr Wollaston, she protests—also resent the pay cut they took for the privilege of parliamentary office. This has made the government’s traditional disregard for backbenchers unusually hard to bear.

In an effort to mollify Dr Wollaston, party bosses offered her a junior, unpaid job in the government, which she huffily rebuffed. In an institution that prizes loyalty above usefulness, this was a serious blot. When she then criticised the government’s complicated NHS reforms and rebelled in a vote on Europe, the stain became ineradicable. Three years into her political career, she finds herself more or less written off by her bosses. She will never be allowed anywhere near health policy. “Maybe I was naive,” she laments. “But I thought the whole point of being an MP was to scrutinise legislation and improve it.”

Though unusually outspoken, Dr Wollaston is a common case. The 2010 Tory intake was among the biggest in parliamentary history and excited high hopes. Its members were diverse and included high-flyers from business and academia, such as Kwasi Kwarteng, Andrea Leadsom, Jesse Norman, Chris Skidmore, Rory Stewart and Nadhim Zahawi. There was talk of such talents reinvigorating Tory policy, bolstering David Cameron’s standing within his party and restoring trust in politicians. Many began vigorously, starting research groups, joining select committees and blogging and tweeting like anything. But now they are stuck.

Only a few of the new crop have been given junior ministerial jobs: mostly those—such as Nick Boles and Matthew Hancock—with long-standing ties to Mr Cameron and his coterie. Far from bolstering the prime minister’s authority, the rest have proved exceptionally mutinous. Last year a rebellion led by Mr Norman and Mr Zahawi against a reform of the House of Lords was backed by 47 new Tory members; that proved destructive to Conservative fortunes, since the Liberal Democrats retaliated by wrecking a boundary review. Overlooked for promotion, and in the rebels’ case unofficially barred, many of the brightest 2010ers are now demoralised. “They’re a pathetic sight, traipsing around the Commons like figures from ‘The Shawshank Redemption’”, says one Tory MP. There are fears that the greenhorns will not campaign hard for the 2015 general election.

Some of this is easily explained—by a combination of exaggerated mid-term gloom, in a party lagging far in the opinion polls, and overselling. Many of the new MPs—including Dr Wollaston—were given exaggerated ideas of their career prospects. Coalition has sapped Tory leaders’ powers of patronage by reducing the number of available jobs in government, and middle-aged newcomers such as she are likeliest to miss out. Even the highest-flying 2010ers are victims of this. They anticipated, with some encouragement from their party chiefs, that they would be singled out for the swift promotions enjoyed by Mr Cameron and his most gilded peers. Yet that was at a less competitive time, when the Tories were in opposition and had fewer MPs. These days there are simply too few opportunities for an unusually talented parliamentary crop. By handing them an excuse to filter out many of the ablest, the Tory party managers may even consider that Mr Norman’s rebellion did them a favour.

More power to Parliament

Yet the old way of handling backbenchers, a mixture of benign neglect and an occasional whipping, appears unsustainable. The vigour of the Tory 2010ers is no coincidence. Nor is their independent-mindedness merely a matter of indiscipline. Rather, they denote structural changes in British politics, which Parliament is lagging. The vim displayed on the backbenches reflects a move to full professionalism: until a few years ago most Tory backbenchers had second jobs, but tougher rules on disclosure have made this almost impossible. Independent-mindedness is similarly entrenched, being a response to closer ties between MPs and their constituents—partly wrought by new media—and to the ideologically-chastening reality of coalition government, which Britain is likely to see more of. “Is it a bad thing to have MPs voting for what they think is right?” asks Dr Wollaston, reflecting the view of many newcomers. “Isn’t that Parliament working well?”

To carry on attracting talented people, Parliament will have to change. Most obviously, party bosses are going to have to find backbenchers more meaningful employment. This might involve, for example, beefing up the powers of the select committees to summon witnesses, or encouraging the currently gentle bill committees to give legislation real critical scrutiny. They will also have to adopt a more conciliatory approach to whipping, making it less an exercise in carpeting than in constructive career advice. Arcane though Westminister is, these developments are likely to happen; albeit too slowly for this talented, frustrated crop of Tory MPs to enjoy. One day, this might even be seen as their most important legacy.

Economist.com/blogs/bagehot