Most are good, a few are bad and the vast majority have spent their lives trying to clear a path for themselves to parliament because they truly believe they can offer something to the state or country.

Some enter parliament and become disillusioned, some enter parliament and forget everyone they represent, but, again, the majority enter parliament and remain as familiar faces at their electorate’s exhibition openings, country shows, awards nights and ribbon cuttings.

It’s not an easy gig.

In the world of the 24-hour media cycle, our parliamentarians are subjected to more scrutiny than ever before.

A mispronounced name or a stumble will be remembered long after anything else that happens at a press conference.

A problem within their labyrinthine department will be placed squarely at their feet – whether they knew about it or not.

We want them to be decisive but consultative, to be firm and clear in the course they set, never being swayed by the opinion polls, but to listen to the will of the people and be prepared to say they were wrong.

We want them to spend all their time for the betterment of the state or country, but we also want them to know our name.

And we want to treat them with contempt - to criticise, accuse and denigrate them - but we want them to treat us with the respect that we deserve. 

​Australians are right to be angry and disappointed by Ms Ley’s use of her travel entitlements, particularly given former Speaker Bronwyn Bishop’s own travel entitlements scandal came only in 2015, but should be wary of tarring all politicians with the same brush.

A representative democracy needs a wide range of representatives, but as politics gets tougher, Australians run the risk of filling the parliament with just one sort of citizen: a person who is cheerfully impervious to constant insult.

Not all our pollies are crooks, which is a description regularly thrown around whenever a travel expenses scandal blows up.

We need them , they need us. So a bit of respect on both sides would go a long way.