Ann Widdecombe just got sexy | Victoria Coren

Ann Widdecombe has never seemed more human. Or, some might say, human. Just kidding; that always looked like flesh and blood to me. Suspicions of robotism are a standard joke about any right-wing MP, given extra currency because Miss Widdecombe is a virgin. But I don't find that especially odd. Were it not for alcohol

OpinionAnn Widdecombe This article is more than 13 years old

Ann Widdecombe just got sexy

This article is more than 13 years oldVictoria CorenAnn Widdecombe may be a virgin, but by putting dance ahead of the pope the ex-MP has shown an admirable lust for life

Ann Widdecombe has never seemed more human. Or, some might say, human.

Just kidding; that always looked like flesh and blood to me. Suspicions of robotism are a standard joke about any right-wing MP, given extra currency because Miss Widdecombe is a virgin. But I don't find that especially odd. Were it not for alcohol and the desperate, lonely men of the live poker circuit, I would be too.

True, Ann Widdecombe would always have the trump card in a round of the old drinking game I've Never. But the game wouldn't exist if we couldn't all name popular things we've never done. I've never seen Star Wars. I've never drunk a pint of beer. I've never been to the Lake District.

Sci-fi, lager and Windermere have their devoted enthusiasts (as a combination, I am told it's hard to beat), but sex is the greatest mass obsession of our culture, which is why people have trouble relating to Ann Widdecombe. How has she avoided the act for so long? Even the word "avoid" has an accusatory overtone, but I couldn't think of a better one; I tried "escape" and it sounded far worse. The abstinence suggests, people imagine, that she lacks human instinct or need, fuelled solely by religious fervour, moral certainty and political opinion.

They wouldn't think it odd if she were a nun. It's only because she's a politician. When our MPs have extracurricular sex, adulterous or otherwise newsworthy, they might find themselves admonished or fired, but most normal observers roll our eyes and assume it goes with the territory. We suppose that the drive that took them as far as the Commons might naturally leak out in other areas. Like Hollywood actors, we surmise, they wouldn't have got there without a yearning for extra attention and importance. One can guess how that might affect a relationship with an eager young researcher.

Perversely, presented with someone who appears to have no vanity or animal drive – a lady of stout demeanour, flat shoes, practical hair and a sexless personal life – we are suspicious. So she entered parliament purely on beliefs? There was no craving to be lauded or laid? Tut tut, we can't have that.

It is a funny attitude. The truth is, we'd be better off if they were all virgins. I don't think I agree with a single word Ann Widdecombe has ever said, but at least I trust her to mean it. Sadly, when she retired at the recent election, that was the end of the last virgin in the House. It reminds me of the day I left school.

Last week, though, a window was opened into the soul of Ann Widdecombe, rendering her suddenly familiar. At a stroke, whether we previously found her sympathetic or strange, everyone could finally imagine what it might be like to be her. It came with the news that Miss Widdecombe has turned down the job of British ambassador to the Vatican, and will be a contestant on Strictly Come Dancing.

In one way, this is an alien choice for us to consider. Travel to the heart of the One True Church, taking up the glorious and historic role of communicator between the British government and God's representative on earth? Or spray yourself orange, leap into a sequinned bodysuit and line up alongside Felicity Kendal to dance the samba in hope of a million phone votes? It is not a decision that most of us are likely to face in this lifetime.

But, in another way, it is a decision that all of us have had to make – and will have to make – many times, from cradle to grave. Pope or dancing? Duty or pleasure?

It was the choice in front of you when you looked at your GCSE textbooks on one shelf and your video box set of The Young Ones on the other. It was the time your mother phoned just as your bubble bath had reached its perfect volume and temperature. It's the skint friend rendered suddenly homeless by a romantic breakup, just as you got rid of your flatmate and could finally have breakfast in the nude. It's the neighbours' lunch invitation you accepted before realising that England would draw Germany on a Sunday afternoon. It's that year your wife got fat and your receptionist got flirty.

Backbone or Babylon? Fibre or fun? You wouldn't have expected that to be a struggle for Ann Widdecombe. If the pope calls, you might assume, she'd hop straight in the golf cart. But no; she jumped the other way. Maybe, she thought, it is time to wear purple.

Ann Widdecombe has told the press that one decision had nothing to do with the other, that she nixed the Vatican job for other reasons. I'm sure that's true, but there was no need to make a public statement about it; Miss Widdecombe is retired from parliament, she need not be answerable to anyone. The woman has devoted decades to public duty. Life cannot be all popes and no dancing.

Of course, some fear that a generation is growing up to believe it should be all dancing and no popes. But that is not Ann Widdecombe's problem.

Metaphors aside, what a fantastic position for a retired, single, sixtysomething woman to be in. Two great adventures beckoned; it beats sitting in the parlour looking at a carriage clock. To consider both, and choose one, shows that Ann Widdecombe is full of energy, curiosity and enthusiasm for the new; not just human but vibrantly alive. It is an inspiration for anyone who might retire one day. The series hasn't yet begun, but she is already dancing.

Perhaps we should stop obsessing over what this woman doesn't do, and be impressed by what she does. Come the autumn, she will certainly get my vote – and that's not something I ever expected to say about Ann Widdecombe.

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