THE NEWS that a British parliamentary researcher had been arrested on suspicion of spying for China seemed like a throwback to the cold war when the Soviet Union used to recruit young men and women as agents. The Sunday Times, which broke the story, said the aide previously had access to MPs including Tom Tugendhat, Britain’s security minister, and Alicia Kearns, who heads the foreign-affairs select committee in Parliament. Both are known for their hawkish stances on China. Though the suspect denied the accusations, the case focused attention on how Britain should engage with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).

This is not the first accusation of nefarious attempts by China to influence decision-makers. In 2022 it emerged that a Labour MP had taken donations from Christine Lee, a solicitor whom Britain’s security agencies said had spent years cultivating links to politicians on behalf of the CCP. This case is different: it involved a British national, possibly recruited when he was working in China; unlike Ms Lee, who was openly pro-CCP, the suspect does not seem to have expressed such views publicly.

A report by the House of Commons Intelligence and Security Committee (ISC) in July slammed the government’s response to Chinese intelligence services that were already targeting the country “prolifically and aggressively”. In other countries it has taken a scandal like the one besetting Westminster to shift policy. Australia and New Zealand toughened laws and changed political priorities after revelations of Chinese-state interference operations.

The British aide was arrested in March, as was another man, but sparse details were only made public on September 10^th. Some Conservative MPs called for Rishi Sunak, the prime minister, to designate China as a formal “threat” rather than the current term, “systemic competitor”. The government has hardened its stance on China since the period under David Cameron when commercial interests dominated.

In July a new National Security Law updated the Official Secrets Act to include a broader range of espionage work, notably “political influence activity”—meaning undisclosed attempts to change the way people behave. Designating China as a threat would mean that anyone in Britain who works for the government in Beijing, or a firm or agency with links to it, would in future have to register under a planned Foreign Influence Registration Scheme. This will come into force next year.

Much of the debate about branding China, however, is mere showmanship by disgruntled Tories. Britain has no clear policy on how to engage China, though James Cleverly, the foreign secretary, did just go to Beijing, the first visit by a high-level official since 2018. After revelations about the suspected spy, Mr Sunak told China’s prime minister, Li Qiang, that any actions to undermine British democracy were “completely unacceptable”.

Nor does the government have the means to prevent potential malign influence by China more generally. A report that is due out on September 13th by researchers at King’s College London, notes universities’ dependence on collaborations with Chinese universities for research, for example. Yet the ISC in July observed that such institutions are ill-equipped to assess any potential risks from such co-operation. Official efforts to protect critical infrastructure from Chinese meddling do exist. So do attempts to stop Chinese firms from buying British ones with expertise that could have military applications. But the government does a poor job of co-ordinating those efforts.

The implications of arresting a suspected spy at the heart of government are unclear, says Martin Thorley of the Global Initiative against Transnational Organised Crime, an NGO. If true, the researcher’s work for China is embarrassing for the government. The arrest could also show that, along with British actions against Ms Lee in 2022, the authorities are at last confronting Chinese efforts more robustly, says Mr Thorley.

Parliament is likely to remain vulnerable, however. MPs are supposed to scrutinise and influence foreign policy, but they lack resources and have tiny budgets for staff. Thus they rely, typically, on poorly paid young graduates to write speeches and carry out research. Given an amateurish system for recruiting, and scrutinising, such aides, the parliamentary system remains susceptible to further foreign interference. Those grabbed by the drama of a suspected spy in the seat of democracy can plausibly expect a sequel.■