‘CAN she take a beating?”

That was the question asked by then minister Andrew Griffiths to one of the two women he’d been bombarding with thousands of sexually-explicit messages over the course of three weeks.

After an exposé by the Sunday Mirror last week, Griffiths – a married father of one – resigned from his post as Minister for Small Business and referred himself to the Conservative party’s code of conduct procedures. The whip was withdrawn pending the investigation, and Griffiths will sit as an independent MP until it is concluded.

In an interview with the paper, one of the women explained that she had accepted money from Griffiths and sent him videos but was put off by his “hypocritical” behaviour and the volume of messages.

MPs are entitled to a private life. The disclosure of every affair and indiscretion isn’t necessarily in the public interest.

It’s sometimes difficult to know where to draw the line. There is an appetite for scandal and seeing the high and mighty knocked from their perch with embarrassing headlines. In the age of social media and instantaneous communication, this makes inappropriate or embarrassing behaviour even more unlikely to stay hidden.

It goes without saying that if behaviour which is criminal in nature, the public – and if the victims feel comfortable, the police – should know about.

In Griffiths’s case, there was no question of criminality. These were messages of a sexual nature between consenting adults.

Politicians enjoy considerable power and influence, not to mention a healthy salary. It is right that we hold them to a higher standard of conduct and that we expect them to be trustworthy and diligent in their duties. Given the woman involved felt she needed to put her phone on aeroplane mode to stop the onslaught of messages draining her battery, it’s a small miracle that Griffiths found the time to get any work done at all.

Alongside the scandal of “married MP sexts constituents”, there are wider implications to consider. MPs are our representatives in parliament, and a bulk of their responsibilities lie with constituency casework. If a member of the public is to feel safe in dealing with their MP face-to-face, revelations about their character – perceived or proven – really matter.

For example: would a survivor of sexual violence feel comfortable attending a surgery with Griffiths, given the impression these messages give about his conduct and attitudes towards women? Perhaps some would, but, crucially, some wouldn’t.

If your MP gets turned on by the domination and degradation of women, I imagine sitting across the table from him would be an uncomfortable experience for some. Would young women, so often ignored in our political processes, feel comfortable in meetings with him, on the campaign trail or working in his office?

Some might view Griffiths’s behaviour as bravado or argue that his requests – particularly those which mentioned violence – were made for the purposes of his own sexual gratification, not necessarily meant to be acted upon. Some who enjoy BDSM in their sex lives have said the “prudish” criticism of Griffiths amounts to “kink-shaming”.

I can understand their frustration that things they enjoy have been described as “depraved”, but equally, those that feel a bit queasy at a grown man with a newborn daughter referring to himself as “daddy” and the adult women he was texting as “my little girls” can’t get over their unease just because some people might get off on that kind of thing.

Our processes for dealing with incidents of questionable behaviour by MPs – those that don’t constitute a criminal offence but warrant further investigation – aren’t fit for purpose. The implementation of a new system for dealing with allegations of bullying and harassment at Westminster is a welcome step forward. But it doesn’t go far enough.

If Westminster is to address the problem, it needs to start looking at the relationship between MPs and constituents and employees in terms of safeguarding. There is a power imbalance between wealthy, influential and powerful MPs and the people they represent. That’s what turns a consensual bout of sexting or an affair into something that, once known, the public might have concern about.

Whenever a minister resigns, there are justified questions about whether somebody unfit to be a minister is a proper person to remain as an MP. Jessica Eaton, a resident in Griffiths’ constituency and an international researcher, writer and speaker on the forensic psychology of sexual violence, has organised a protest to call for Griffiths’ resignation.

She said: “The thousands of messages, many of which the public have not seen because they are ‘too disgusting to print’ by the mainstream media, left us with no option but to call for the resignation of our MP.

“This demonstrates a lack of respect for the thousands of women he ‘represents’ – who have been appalled by his violent fantasies and the humiliation and degradation of women and ‘girls’.”

We’ll have to wait to see whether Griffiths addresses the concerns of his constituents, stands down or hobbles on.

He’s not the first MP to be brought down by a scandal of his own making, and he certainly won’t be the last.