THE volunteers were tired and they were hungry. They had come to yet another meeting of a local charity, in their own time. Some had paid babysitters and were out of pocket. Tempers were frayed.

Then somebody suggested a round of fish and chips. "We work hard for the charity," the person said. "We are missing our tea." Everyone agreed. The bill was charged to expenses.

This was the beginning of the end for the charity, or at least its local branch. Volunteers eventually got chips at every meeting. Then those who had children got cash for babysitters, whether they really needed them or not. Such spending was always easy to justify. After all, the charity workers told themselves, "we are working hard". Then the money ran out.

This is a true little story about corruption, about mundane, routine and pernicious Scottish corruption. Oh, the parent charity sorted things out. The local committee was ousted. But nobody got in to any real trouble. The police were never called. The organisation concerned, of course, did not want any bad publicity.

Corruption of our public sector is back in the news. In my view it is time we started to think more clearly about what it is and how people get away with it. I can not help but think of that charity.

Why? Because it challenges some of the preconceptions so many of us have about corruption. We imagine corrupt politicians or public officials as deeply cynical calculating criminals. And, sure, some will be. But not all.

Zealous partisans, in particular, love to ascribe evil characteristics to their opponents. So nationalists, for example, will tell you that corruption is predominantly an issue for, say, councils in the old Labour heartlands of west central Scotland. If only it really was just one party that was vulnerable to being corrupted.

The reality is many of the most corrupt people in Scotland would never dream of thinking of themselves in those terms. Like the charity workers eating free fish and chips, they have long ago rationalised any benefits they get as deserved.

There are people who wish to exploit such morally frail fools. How? Not with envelopes stuffed with cash, not at first anyway. No, they will befriend their targets, invite them to a nice lunch, provide tickets to a sold-out concert or let them stay in their holiday villas.

But, those targeted by such overtures tell themselves, it's not corruption to hang out with friends.

Eventually such friends becomes curious about how much "the other guy" has bid for some work under a closed private or public procurement exercise. Or she wants to know how to get planning permission for a development. But he or she is only chatting; they're "just friends".

Too often once discovered, institutions brush over such unfortunate friendships. Like the corrupted little charity, they don't want the bad PR. We need to change the way we react to such news. The councils, health board and firms that are robbed are not the perpetrators of corruption: they are its victims. We should start to treat them as such so they can call out the corrupt with no fear of a backlash.