AMONG the many nicknames he earned as Prime Minister, one of the most fitting given to Boris Johnson which we can repeat was “The Limpet”.

As he blundered from scandal to scandal, and first voters and then colleagues deserted him, he clung on for dear life, refusing to loosen his hold on Downing Street.

But while this quality might have been particularly brazen in Johnson’s case, it certainly wasn’t unique to him. Once they’ve found their rock, politicians are pretty hard to budge.

It can take a huge amount of time, effort and personal sacrifice to get elected. After the elation and relief of winning, no one wants to hand their medal back.

The desire to carry on, to serve one’s constituents, and to prove that getting elected wasn’t a fluke, is understandable.

The respect of one’s peers and the perks of power and influence aren’t to be sniffed at either.

And in a profession littered with failures, longevity makes a passable substitute for quality.

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Few and far between are the cases of MPs and MSPs who suddenly chuck it in after deciding they took the wrong turn in life.

Labour MSP Ian Welsh is still remembered in Holyrood quizzes for doing it – elected in 1999 he quit after six months and triggered the parliament’s first byelection – but he’s a great rarity.

It inevitably means many politicians outstay their welcome, plodding on beyond their peak.

Worse, many try to stay put despite wrongdoing and notoriety, seeing resignation as an abject admission of guilt. The SNP has had a run of these in recent years.

In 2013, the Dunfermline MSP Bill Walker took a month to quit Holyrood despite being convicted of a string of domestic abuse offences against his ex-wives.

In 2017, the Aberdeen MSP Mark McDonald resigned as a minister over “inappropriate” conduct, and in 2020, Finance Secretary Derek Mackay left the government after being exposed by the press for pestering a schoolboy with text messages.

However both the latter two kept their seats in parliament as absentee independents, only conceding the gig was up at the 2021 Holyrood election.

The former SNP MP Margaret Ferrier is currently trying to remain the MP for Rutherglen & Hamilton West by appealing a 30-day suspension for recklessly breaching Covid rules.

Milking the last of their salary before becoming nigh unemployable is part of the calculation, of course, but never underestimate ego and self-righteousness in such cases either.

The latest example is Patrick Grady, the SNP MP for Glasgow North since 2015.

Just over a year into the job, in October 2016, the 36-year-old MP made a drunken pass at a 19-year-old male party staffer on a night out.

“Mr Grady, under the influence of alcohol, made a sexual advance to the complainant in the mistaken belief that this advance would be welcomed. The advance included the touching and stroking of the complainant's neck, hair, and back,” a subsequent investigation found.

Mr Grady’s punishment was a two-day suspension from the Commons and a six-month suspension from the SNP, although privately he was supported by the party.

The scandal, and the SNP’s mishandling of it, filled weeks of headlines last summer.

However Mr Grady, in true limpet-fashion, is now planning to stand at the general election.

The Scottish Sun reported the devout Catholic believes he can woo churchgoers for votes.

The problem with limpet MPs is that they don’t just shame themselves.

They also raise questions for and about their parties.

If it possible Grady could fail internal vetting for the Glasgow North candidacy this time.

But that would beg the question of why...

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