It is difficult to think of any situation where upon being fired, an employee then considers themselves in line for a promotion. But just days after Liam Fox's forced resignation, Ladbrokes was already offering odds of 25-1 for him to be next Conservative leader.
Is scandal so widespread in British politics that words such as 'disgraced' and 'discredited' only last as long as the headlines? Have we become so immune to misdemeanour? Recent history would suggest so.
When a fresh-faced Tony Blair took office in 1997 he made the now familiar pledge to restore the public's faith in politics. The preceding Conservative government had become embroiled in sleaze, personal and professional; a seemingly disgraceful smorgasbord of extra-marital affairs, suspicious party funding and undeclared conflicts of interest. The names Jonathan Aitken, Neil Hamilton and Jeffrey Archer became synonymous with a government that had lost its way.
Convinced of their own infallibility, the Tories under John Major had contracted an infectious culture of abusing parliamentary privilege and then looking sheepish about it afterwards. New Labour, on the other hand, vowed to be 'purer than pure' and the nation waved little Union Jacks and watched John Prescott dance awkwardly to 'Things Can Only Get Better'.
Fast-forward to the 2010 general election, where a fresh-faced David Cameron pledged to restore the public's faith in politics. Even the slowest and most biased of political observers must have been struck by a disheartening sense of déjà vu.
The preceding Labour government had become embroiled in sleaze, personal and professional; a seemingly disgraceful smorgasbord of extra-marital affairs, suspicious party funding and undeclared conflicts of interest. As Aitken, Hamilton and Archer moved to the lucrative post-political graveyard of after-dinner speaking and embarrassing media appearances, their reputations were effortlessly inherited by the honourable members Mandelson, Blunkett and Vaz.
Of course there were some differences between the two governments. Cash-for-questions became cash-for-peerages, for instance. But otherwise, unscrupulous ministers continued their tireless work of reinforcing the stereotype of politicians being self-serving and often a little stupid.
Unsurprisingly, the coalition has not fared much better. The Liberal Democrats even took the opportunity to show that scandal is not just for the big boys. David Laws' resignation just 18 days into the new parliament and Mike Hancock's sinister pursuit of a vulnerable constituent showed that they have done little to justify Clegg's 'holier than thou' election campaign.
But then who even remembers about Laws and Hancock? This is a question that Liam Fox will be taking great comfort from over the coming months. Because when scandal is so ubiquitous, disgrace is only a temporary phenomenon. Thanks to bouts of public amnesia, 'discredited' former ministers simply reappear in a different department after a year or two in the wilderness of the backbenches. Upon their return, our memories are so eroded by 24-hour news channels that we forget why they had disappeared in the first place.
So should we blame ourselves for this perpetual cycle of misbehaviour? To an extent.
Until the reluctant rise of a class of Platonic philosopher kings who rule merely because they know what is best for all, we have to accept that our politicians will cheat, lie and bend the rules if we do not democratically punish them afterwards. But we seem to forget about anyone left sitting on the naughty step for too long and figures like Mandelson have found it far too easy to bounce back from scandal unchallenged.
Whilst engaged in a never-ending game of musical chairs, parties and politicians will inevitably rise, become intoxicated with power, lose credibility and then relinquish control, ready to rebrand themselves as incorruptible. We should not let them do so. Politicians who display judgement that is bad enough to result in dismissal should simply not have the opportunity to return.
We are a fickle electorate though. Am I the only one left wondering whether anyone will even recognise Adam Werritty when he drops in on his old pal Liam at Number 10?