I’VE a bright A-level student from a Blackburn school with me this week.

For the first four days of the week she’s been based in the House of Commons.

On Monday, there was a conference about the Stephen Lawrence Inquiry which I had set up in 1997.

After that she had a front row seat in the Commons public gallery, watching the statement by the current Home Secretary, Theresa May on another of those recurring fiascos which go with the job, whoever is doing it.

That was followed by a major debate on Iran, in which I spoke.

On Tuesday, it was a conference on the European Union at which I spoke, followed by a great celebration to mark the 90th Anniversary of the National Union of Students.

It’s amazing how many former activists from the NUS (me included) end up in Parliament.

Yesterday she was able to watch the bear-garden of Prime Minister’s Questions.

Today, there’s evidence from me about how select committees could be made more effective; then an important meeting with the Office of Fair Trading about car insurance.

Tomorrow she’ll spend the day in town watching how I do that end of my job as MP, including my constituency advice service.

She seems to be enjoying it all. I certainly would have at the same age.

I don’t remotely feel that I have been ‘exploiting’ this student; neither does she.

But what if she was not with me for a week, but a couple of months; and if the ‘work experience’ wasn’t watching how I do the job, but days spent stuffing envelopes, photocopying, filing, and making tea? And I didn’t pay her a bean?

That’s different, in my book. And the longer such a ‘work experience’ went on, the more it would feel like exploitation.

I applaud the aim of government and employers alike to get long-term unemployed youngsters back into the habit of working, but both have to be really careful about what’s on offer, and how long it’s morally tolerable to expect them to do it for nothing.