With political upheaval in Greece, and Spanish voters standing by to repeat, Britain’s major political revolution last week seemed rather anodyne. It boiled down to an announcement from William Hague about setting up an English grand committee to debate English legislation. It’s hardly the stuff of barricades and burning tanks, possibly because “English Votes for English Laws” is not really at the top of anyone’s political agenda this year. We’re more worried about paying for heat and staying well.

However, do, I implore you, take a closer look at how the dry topic of constitutional reform is being managed, for it will – I promise – say so much about why we’re all so furious with the broken state of British politics.

First off, the proposal by David Cameron to reform English voting law was made by him alone, the morning after the Scottish referendum, on the steps of 10 Downing Street. This gave it the feel of something drafted on the spot by a tired and stressed man. Worse though is the fact that Cameron is allowed to do something like this and we don’t react to how peculiar it is. So, the day after an entire nation voted on a major constitutional issue, having spent an enormous two years debating it, Cameron steps out on his own and comes up with a much bigger idea, giving it not to the people but to William Hague and telling Hague to report back in just 12 weeks. It actually takes longer to order and take delivery of a new sofa.

While millions were spent on allowing Scotland a full, careful debate, a debate about the future of 8% of the UK population, Cameron knocks off a cheap and quick version for the English, who make up an astonishing 84% of the UK and surely deserve something more considered. This says some unpalatable things about both Cameron and our constitution. For one, it reveals our prime minister for the slap-dash opportunist he is. This is what he does – ignores the detailed pros and cons, thinks of himself as a commonsense sort of guy and so goes on to decide he and he alone knows best. It’s what led to the bungled and inordinately destructive reforms to the NHS conducted in Cameron’s first years in office, described last week by the King’s Fund, a non-partisan thinktank, as “incomprehensible”, “disastrous” and with a decision-making process “not fit for purpose”.

Cameron’s same duckin’-and-divin’ opportunism shines out of every response he makes to the proposals for televised leaders’ debates, ie, offer cobbled-together arguments masquerading as reasonableness to make the whole thing go away. And so here he is too with his suggested constitutional reform.

The reason Cameron can do this is because he is prime minister. However much we kid ourselves that we live in a democracy where the law is deliberated over by an elected and accountable set of parliamentary representatives, the truth is that any prime minister commanding a majority of MPs can do anything he or she likes. Increasingly hands-on prime ministers have neutered the independence of cabinet ministers and their departments and run a far more presidential system of government.

Their power to act on whim is far more sweeping than anything most official presidents can do. The president of France has a prime minister whom he can appoint but can’t dismiss and must deal with a national assembly that may have a majority made from his opponents. Even the American president, the Most Powerful Man on Earth, faces so many checks and balances to his executive authority that he can often feel powerless if Congress is resolved to block his ideas. That’s what Obama feels now; he can take the odd executive action but with Republicans controlling both the House of Representatives and the Senate, all hope of any lasting progress on his agenda is stalled for the next two years.

Not so in the UK where, provided the prime minister has a majority of MPs and the backing of his party, he as the first lord of the Treasury can rule utterly. Hence, the back-of-an-envelope solution to the English votes question. Cameron came up with it, because he can. His party may not command a majority, but the Coaliton deal has gifted him one which he has used remorselessly.

Because prime ministers have total power, they are never going to suggest anything that limits that power. The PM’s supporters might argue he’s already set some limits: five-year parliaments enshrined in law remove his power to dissolve parliament whenever he likes and putting military action to a mandatory Commons vote restricts his control over defence policy. Both these moves were promised while he was in opposition: his path to power was littered with promises to give some of it away. Once he’s tasted power, though, he’s shown no further desire to hand any more of it back. Nor have his coalition partners, now they’ve been in government.

Hence the constitutional settlement Cameron proposes for England: an English grand committee of English MPs who will debate, modify and even veto legislation affecting England. Sounds fair. Sounds like common sense. Yet look how the sheen comes off on inspection. Everything stays in the House of Commons, everything sits with the PM’s band of MPs. Power has not dissipated, hasn’t spread to the regions, the counties or the electorate. It sits where it’s always sat, over London like an immovable smog. Control and confinement are the prevalent forces here; there is not a single crack in the tank through which any power can leak.

This is not real devolution. Yes, it’s a problem that a Scottish MP can currently have a say on the funding of an English hospital, but for many it’s just as real a problem that a Newcastle MP can get involved in the funding of an A&E Unit in Dorset. England is such a huge and complicated amalgam of competing regional interests that no solution to the English Question is ever going to come if the answer is always: “London.” Reform requires imagination, some bravery and a look at the map. What we have now is caution from Whitehall stiffs in windowless rooms.

Real devolution of power would involve granting MPs more individual power, giving parliamentary select committees the ability to redraw legislation. We would feel a real connection to our law-makers if Westminster invited us in, as a home to public debate and discussion, where consultation with the public, local councillors and regional authorities was the norm and not exceptional. Power would involve giving real budgetary control to the regions.

But it doesn’t look as if any air is going to be let in soon. It apparently took the documentary-maker Michael Cockerell six years before he could persuade parliament to let him in to film Inside the Commons, currently showing on BBC2. Even when he was in, some MPs plotted to sit in front of his camera so he couldn’t see. It’s no wonder then that while the rest of Europe uses its parliaments to conduct political revolutions, we sit at home watching ours gathering dust on TV.