Yet another casualty of the credit crisis: prices for Western European politicians have plummeted.
What is the world coming to when a nouveau riche Russian aluminium baron can be suspected of buying an old-schooler-than-thou UK shadow chancellor, member of Oxford's elite Bullingdon club and heir to the third Osborne Baronetcy, all for a bargain $80000?
Naturally, Gideon George Oliver Osborne denies any impropriety occured on Oleg Deripaska's yacht off the coast of Corfu, and that the whole incident was but an innocent mistake precipitated by the poor judgement of his old Oxford and Bullingdon pal Nat Roschild.
Despite all the pious if eloquent incantations by Edward Lucas (and a little ironic coming from a writer for the supposedly cold-headedly & rational Economist), it must be heartening for Russian oligarchs to know that money still talks, or is at least capable of making the second most senior opposition politician in the UK so hurry to meet his appointment with Deripaska as to very un-Britishly trample over a beach full of swimmers with his motor boat.
(courtesy Martin Rowson)
And for those inclined to dismiss these sorts of plutocrat romances as traditionally Conservative indiscretions, consider the case of Peter Mandelson.
Indeed, our poor Deripaska has been caught in an improbable menage a trois with both Labour and the Conservatives: a moving case of love (of money) superceding ideology.
It must be said that, for all his superiour breeding, Osborne did the roguish thing and tried to publicly wash his hands of the affair, while Mandelson remained admirably tight lipped, no doubt to preserve Deripaska's maiden honour.
Nothing to do with preserving the quickly evaporating semblance of legitimacy surrounding Mandelson's recent decision, as EU trade commissioner, to slash aluminium tariffs by half from 6% to 3%, after a party aboard Deripaska's luxury yacht.
So legendary has Russian generosity to Western politicians become that even the Americans wanted in on the deal, with none other than John McCain asking the Russians for a donation, albeit apparently by mistake.
Dig a little deeper, however, and it turns out that McCain's campaign strategist Rick Davis has had close dealings with, you guessed it, Mr Deripaska.
For all the sleazy visuals of MPs begging at the table of a foreign businessman, it's impossible not to see the huge firestorm that has erupted in English politics over their politicians’ sordid dealings with Russian business interests as rather quaint.
The Deripaska affair has been Britain's ‘Jeremiah Wright moment‘: after a decade of Western captains of industry wining and dining Russian politicians into sweetheart deals and reforms that benefited Western investors, the chickens have come home to roost.