Say what you want about 2018, it has been a bumper year for fans of high-profile politicians absolutely annihilating their personal and professional lives by being too horny.

After the media frenzy that followed Australia’s reddest son, Barnaby Joyce, leaving his wife to have a baby with former staffer Vikki Campion, we thought there would be little room for anything more. At the very least, you’d think the rest of the horny politicians would learn some discretion.

But that, of course, was in February, more than 1000 years ago, and when it comes to disappointing the electorate, the horny politician will not disappoint.

The brand of horniness that inspired Nationals MP Andrew Broad to try to seduce a “sugar baby” with the sort of language that could be classified as “war crime” is nothing new. Men of a certain stripe have always, when finding themselves in a position of any power, become senseless with horniness. Neither is it confined to politics, but elected office seemingly bestows a (completely misguided) sense of “untouchability”. They fight their way to the top and say, “Now that I’m in control of the system, I can finally destroy my marriage of 25 years and alienate my children for the remainder of our lives”.

This is the same horniness that inspires congressmen to throw away massively popular and promising careers for the chance to send a dick pic to a stranger online. It’s the same horniness that will inspire MPs to document themselves putting their junk into a glass of red wine surely the most staggeringly horny manoeuvre ever conceived — without stopping to wonder what, on God’s earth, they’re doing.

Does it matter that the very inevitable leak of these acts would jeopardise every single thing they have ever worked for? Who gives a shit, it’s smoochin’ time! Thinkin’ time comes after — or never, preferably!

For some, the fall is anticipated, even expected. Many expected that Joyce, for example, would eventually fall prey to some kind of lascivious mishap — a horny Damocles, a sweaty Humpty Dumpty. What’s more, the public’s response seemed to lean towards Joyce’s being a “real man”, in the same vein as Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi — a sort of walking pub meal with an erection and a tendency to vote against migrants.

Broad, unfortunately, missed that particular window. While the scandal’s discrepancy with his “traditional family” chest-beating was particularly egregious, Broad is simply one of the least horny-looking men on planet Earth. He has the sex appeal of a neighbour who would contact the council if you left your bins out too long. That he would liken himself to James Bond is fitting, considering the inverse correlation between people who say they’re James Bond, and people with the qualities of James Bond.

And there, of course, lies the crux of it. That a seemingly unhorny politician would be revealed to be horny should not be disarming; it should be just as inevitable. Every man in parliament must be treated as such. The seamless government — democracy itself — will never be truly achieved until we have isolated them, and cut them out entirely. History has shown us, time and time again, that inside every successful statesman, is a horny statesman, just busting to get the wine glass out.