We are all hypocrites.

Well, I do know one or two people who appear breathtakingly hypocrisy-free; who seem to walk the walk as well as talk the talk, but they are few and far between. The rest of us live, whether because of laziness, neglect, stupidity or sheer mendacity, live our lives populated by small, commonplace hypocrisies. We may rail against tax avoidance, but buy the occasional Starbucks coffee. We may wail about banks, yet not get round to shifting to a more ethical one. We may think about boycotting Nestlé, then succumb to our kids nagging for a box of Honey Shreddies.

Last week, Russell Brand threatened to sue The Sun after it ran a front-page story declaring: "We brand Russell Brand a hypocrite." The headline ran: "He rants against high rents and tax avoidance. But he pays £76k a year to tax-dodge landlords." The paper had done some investigating of its own after Brand, who was using his fame to draw attention to a campaign by the residents of the New Era housing estate in east London who are facing eviction, was asked by a Channel 4 journalist about the value of his own home. "It's rented," said Brand, denying that he, by paying out for a high-value property, was actually part of the housing problem in London.

For the most part, I don't think people are in the least bit concerned over whether Brand is a hypocrite. You can't live in the world today without the odd hypocrisy here or there. Or is it just that I'm really not trying hard enough? And anyway, a dash of hypocrisy doesn't always diminish a cause - particularly not when it comes to raising publicity. I like what Brand did last week when he came out and campaigned for the New Era residents. It was one of his recent triumphs: standing side by side with real people in a campaign of wider relevance. In some ways his wealth - the top rental fees he pays on his flat, thus contributing to pricing those on low to average income out of the city - even added to the punch of the campaign. Ethical consistency, most of us recognise, is hard work in a complicated consumer world.

However, it is not the first time Brand has been called a hypocrite. Only a month ago he faced similar accusations for "hot-trotting" from the anti-capitalist Million Mask March to hobnobbing with celeb pals in the west end. Last year, Simon Cowell declared Brand was a hypocrite for accepting high salaries while campaigning for a revolution.

I can see why Cowell, Piers Morgan and other rich celebrities get upset by Brand. It's rather annoying, I suspect, when you've just decided to say, 'Sod it, the world's unfair, I'm going to enjoy my wealth and try my best to ignore those struggling with poverty', then to be exposed to someone who lives the same kind of life as you yet still wants to hang onto the idea of social change and still talks about equality.

But though I do see Brand's so-called "hypocrisy" as very human, that doesn't mean I'm relaxed with it. One of the problems is that rich revolutionaries aren't a new phenomenon. The revolution has long been cheerled by so-called "champagne socialists" - politicians who once were rich or got rich, or hung out with rich folk. In a world where only the famous and wealthy really have a voice, we have grown used to the idea that it will be people with money who talk about creating systems to redistribute it while still enjoying their own wealth. We've grown used to the idea that singing for a revolution might be more common than actually putting your hand in your own pocket; that campaigning to make poverty history might trump donating money.

When The Sun ran its hypocrite front-page story about Brand, there were plenty there to defend the comedian and actor; a whole Twitter surge of funny and entertaining retorts ensued. Owen Jones said: "Stop talking about combating starvation - you have a fridge full of food!"

But I can't help feeling uncomfortable with this argument. The comment only made me feel like those with full fridges should open them, rather than simply campaign (and, who knows, maybe Brand already does). The philosopher and former analytical Marxist GA Cohen explored this question in his essay, If You're An Egalitarian, How Come You're So Rich? He looked at all rationale behind keeping one's egalitarian principles firmly locked to one's political life rather than persona life - and found none of them stood up. His point, ultimately, was that there is no justification for waiting for the establishment of fairer institutions. If you are a true egalitarian, you should give your wealth away now. Empty that fridge.

But, ouch, that hurts. And it's not only the very wealthy that might like to think about this. It's also middle-class people like me who might not think they are that comfortable, and yet are in comparison with others. If we believe in redistribution, why aren't we sharing out our own wealth more? We might feel our fridges are not that full, but they're definitely fuller than other people's.

Among the things that Brand has called for are "a massive redistribution of wealth" and "socialist egalitarianism". His belief is that it is systemic change we need, not more charity. But if you think about the Cohen argument, in fact what we need is both - which is why a revolutionary's personal wealth remains something many of us feel instinctively awkward about.

It is great that he's using his fame to help the New Era estate tenants and draw attention to the issue of affordable housing. But what about that nice Hoxton flat, and the other properties he does own? And even if he is donating to charity, are the quantities he is giving "enough"? It's a question for all of us. How much do any of us ­hypocrites behave like we genuinely believe in redistribution?