When the Blair Government last year announced plans for a nationwide chain of super casinos, not only was there widespread concern, but people wondered how the proposal had come about. After all, there had been no public clamour for more gambling opportunities.

But, behind the scenes, the gaming industry had been lobbying furiously. It spent £100m, including hosting a visit to Las Vegas for a team from the Department of Culture, Media and Sport.

Papers obtained under the Freedom of Information Act (otherwise we can be sure they would have remained secret for decades) reveal some of the backstage machinations, among which is a brief to the Minister for Gambling, Lord McIntosh.

This advises him to tell a US gaming operator "not to talk up your ambitions for the UK's casino market. Gambling is still a sensitive subject in the UK, and you might - inadvertently - cause alarm and concern among MPs, Peers and the media".

In the event, that alarm and concern proved impossible to stifle, with the welcome result that the casino expansion was severely curbed. But the window which the affair opens on the way government is conducted in Britain, often as though the public is an impediment rather than the source of a government's power, shows why virtually all of us have lost trust in the political process.

Good job the right to roam came into force only a couple of months ago - too late for the hordes of off-path trampers feared by the grouse moor owners to have caused, or even contributed to, the worst grouse shooting season for 55 years. But if this year's chronic shortage of grouse (due to a disease, strongylitis) is repeated next year, expect those blundering bobble-hatted hordes, even though they don't exist, to get the blame.

Quite rightly, there is widespread indignation at the raft of state benefits received by Muslim cleric Omar Bakri, now banned after openly reviling the country that has given him sanctuary for 20 years. Each month collecting £331.28 in incapacity benefit, plus a disability allowance of £183.30, he also drove a £30,000 people carrier provided through another state scheme. His wife and family benefit by a further £1,300 a month.

Large sums, yes. But not quite as large as the £60bn now estimated as the cost of cleaning up Britain's obsolete nuclear sites. An increase of £8bn on the previous estimate, the sum could expand by a further £10bn.

Sharing newspaper space with the revelations of Batri's handouts, this vast drain on our purses passed virtually unnoticed. Here is a classic example of the Parkinson Law which dictates that time spent considering a sum will be in inverse proportion to the amount involved. Aptly, the Professor illustrated his law with a fictional report of a council meeting, which closely scrutinises the cost of a bike shed after nodding through the vast sum needed for a nuclear reactor.

Contained in the tributes to the late Robin Cook was a detail of his career that deserves highlighting. When he was Foreign Secretary, he unearthed the fact that John Major's government wrote off the £1bn loan it had given to Saddam Hussein to enable the dictator to buy arms from Britain. In other words, we gave away the arms. How dare John Major show his face in public?