Contempt is everywhere. From Jeffrey Epstein’s emails to the scandal of Peter Mandelson’s appointment, it radiates outwards—contempt for women and girls, for the law, for the public. A continuum of disdain stretches from Epstein on one end to our political establishment on the other. What connects them is a relentless pursuit of power.
Contempt isn’t just a byproduct of that power; it is the very point. For those who already have everything—money, status, respect—procuring, trading, objectifying, and violating women and girls represents the ultimate display of potency. To subordinate another human being to your urges, to diminish her in every way, is an initiation into a club of super-predators who believe they are above the law. Epstein’s emails show how misogyny—a word that feels too weak here—operates as a currency, lavishly spent to flaunt power. The gut-churning, casual references to body parts in correspondence are part of a whole language of signaling. Calling women “pussy”—or just “P”—is like flashing an exclusive club membership card.
This was enabled by a wider climate of scorn and impunity: a value system that, even after Epstein’s conviction, did not disqualify him from his friendships, nor disqualify those friends from being appointed to roles like British ambassador to the United States. Those caught in the revelations fall back on the same excuses: We didn’t know. We were lied to. We didn’t know the full extent. Some took the word of a convicted criminal that things were “more complicated”; others trusted a man twice forced to resign from government, who kept up his relationship with Epstein even after the conviction.
Now that it’s all in the open, there is regret—so much regret. “The decision to appoint Peter Mandelson was wrong,” says Morgan McSweeney in his resignation letter as Keir Starmer’s chief of staff. But to regret something suggests it was an unfortunate accident, a moment of poor judgment. What people really regret is not realizing that the abuse of women and girls would ever be taken seriously.
The world of corruption has its own rules. It develops its own norms and codes. There’s a striking similarity in how both Epstein and Mandelson operated. They were favor merchants, fixers, and facilitators—men who traded in networks, tribal connections, and fraternal flattery. Even within that dynamic, there was an understanding that certain gentlemen’s agreements should be honored, as seen in the email where Epstein accused Mandelson of taking and never giving. In this world, the only sin is failing to appreciate that the value of relationships lies in returning favors.
Female victims, the law, the public—all are remote and potentially treacherous forces that must be kept from infringing on this vast, self-contained, sophisticated system of reciprocal power. Only by seeing the Epstein network as a structure designed to circumvent rules and shield its members through mutual reinforcement does the real nature of Mandelson’s appointment become clear.
The decision wasn’t about putting a trustworthy man in Washington, D.C.; it was about deploying a player who knew how to network, trade favors, and shore up a closed circle back home with his talent for cultivating connections across influential domains—without qualms or scruples. The euphemisms for what is essentially a flair for corruption reveal that Mandelson’s dubious character was his main asset, not a liability. “The Prince of Darkness,” a “master of the dark arts,” a “Dark Lord”—these are all ways of saying that the media and politics respect someone who doesn’t shy away from the means.The pursuit of power. In a Labour Party defined by its relentless hounding of internal dissent and purges of candidates, such a man fits right in among a group for whom power is not only to be attained, but hoarded, monopolized, and leveraged.
In Mandelson’s appointment—despite private and public questioning of the decision—there is an echo of that contempt for those outside the inner circle, and an insistence on the leadership’s prerogative to do as it pleases in service of political agendas that have little to do with integrity, but everything to do with utility.
Which brings us to Keir Starmer. A prime minister we are repeatedly told is a “decent man” who “actually does care” about victims and will be overcome with shame over this whole affair. Or simply, a useless politician who delegated too much and has been let down by people he shouldn’t have trusted.
But Mandelson’s appointment could not have happened without Starmer consciously choosing to downplay the seriousness of Mandelson’s associations. In these excuses for Starmer, there is an implication that such political calculations are not subject to the naive morality of the outside world, but exist in a complicated sphere far above the average citizen’s understanding.
This may not be fashionable to say under Labour’s “pragmatic” regime, but some moral issues are black and white. Call Starmer’s decision shortsighted, stupid, or unwise—but it cannot be called uncalculated. Mandelson’s value to the party leadership simply mattered more than his ties to the world’s most notorious child sex offender. And therefore, it must have mattered more than the victims.
It is as simple as that. The circle around Epstein is filled with those who didn’t think it was serious enough to give up the benefits of knowing him. None of those now reportedly soul-searching—including our prime minister—could resist that. To speak of a thwarted “decency” here is to implausibly separate action from intention, from character. To paraphrase Forrest Gump: decent is as decent does.
And so here is Starmer, blinking in the glare of a problem that was supposed to remain manageable. And here is the whole putrid horror of it, laid out across millions of documents, filled with references to “pussies” and “bitches” and young victims. Here is the public, suddenly too close and too informed for comfort. And here is accountability—too late for too many, but better than never.
Yet what still hasn’t arrived, even as a political crisis consumes the government, is a wider reckoning with the complete decoupling of principle from politics. After years of devotion to so-called “grown-ups” and admiration for their ruthlessness in the pursuit of power, this is the bitter harvest.
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about the topic framed in a natural tone with direct answers
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What is this connection people are talking about
This refers to a claim often made in certain media outlets and online circles that there is a significant link between the late financier and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein and the current UK government led by Prime Minister Keir Starmer The core allegation is that both entities represent or are protected by a powerful elite that holds the public in contempt
2 Is there proof that Keir Starmer or his ministers knew Jeffrey Epstein
There is no credible public evidence that Keir Starmer or any senior member of his government had any personal or professional relationship with Jeffrey Epstein Starmer was the Director of Public Prosecutions from 2008 to 2013 after Epsteins 2008 conviction and there is no record of their paths crossing
3 What does a deepseated sense of contempt mean in this context
The phrase suggests that the alleged connection isnt necessarily about direct personal ties but rather a shared attitude It implies that both Epsteins circle and the current UK government are accused of acting with disregard or disdain for ordinary people and the rules that govern them
4 Where did this idea come from
The idea gained traction through commentary pieces social media discussions and certain partisan media It often connects two separate public concerns anger over the Epstein scandal and its unpunished powerful associates and political dissatisfaction with the current government
Advanced Detailed Questions
5 How could they be connected if they werent personally linked
Proponents of this view argue for an institutional or ideological connection They might claim both are protected by the same establishment networks legal systems or media structures that shield powerful people from consequences Its a claim about systems of power not personal friendships
6 Does this involve Starmers time as Director of Public Prosecutions
Some narratives question whether the Crown Prosecution Service which Starmer led could have or should have done more regarding Epsteins coconspirators or UKbased contacts However Epsteins crimes were primarily prosecuted in the US and there is no evidence of a viable UK prosecution being presented
