When politicians are in a corner, they often try to deflect the blame for events that have gone wrong on third parties.
And a common target is the media.
So perhaps we ought not to be surprised that the Kent crime commissioner Ann Barnes has opted for this strategy to justify her decision not to continue with having a youth crime tsar.
It would, she asserted, be unfair to place a third young person under the intense media scrutiny that her predecessors were subjected to.
What this overlooks - in a quite breathtakingly naive way - is that it was the commissioner herself who was responsible for exposing her proteges to the media spotlight.
Indeed, her very obvious determination to score a political PR coup ensured that the spotlight shone very directly on both, particularly the first appointee Paris Brown.
At the time, the commissioner and Paris, then just 17, willlingly toured every TV and radio station to spread the "good news," the pair sitting on sofas with breakfast show presenters in a very deliberate charm offensive which also garnered swathes of coverage in national newspapers.
The commissioner could, of course, have declined the pile of requests for media interviews. She could have done them herself and kept her crime tsar out of the limelight.
But the desire to spin a good news story blinded the commissioner and her team to the dangers ahead.
Barely days later, the story unravelled spectacularly, triggering the first of a number of PR car crashes in the commissioner's tenure.
The Mail On Sunday, offering to do a profile piece, splashed a story concerning offensive comments posted by Paris on Twitter, some of which were construed as racist and homophobic.
How had they got them? Simply by looking at her account and timeline, which fatally, it later turned out, had not been checked as part of the recruitment process.
The story might have been a classic tabloid hatchet job but the cosy sofa interviews quickly became a distant memory.
What had started as a PR dream became a PR nightmare that ended just days later when a tearful Paris announced at a painful press conference that she was to stand down.
If that was not eonugh to alert the commissioner to the risks of over exposure in the media, it is hard to think what else could have been. A sensible strategy might have been to announce a period of reflection and then quietly drop the idea.
But politicians dislike compromise and positively loathe being accused of a U-turn.
The commissioner ploughed on, saying she would appoint another youth commissioner - perhaps considering that more stringent checks during the recruitment process would be enough to ensure nothing could go wrong.
Up to a point, they did and Kerry Boyd seemed to be a safe pair of hands. Until, that is, reports emerged of an inappropriate relationship with a former county councillor who had been a referee for her application.
She was placed on the equivalent of light duties and kept well away from the public eye to a point where very few seemed to have any idea what was actually being done.
So, after two youth commissioners, there will not be a third. Instead, a forum of young people will be set up to "engage" young people, ironically one of the recommendations members of the Kent crime panel made some time ago.
Have lessons been learned? Up to a point.
But one thing stands out above everything. It was not the media that appointed the two youth tsars. It was the commissioner. It didn't work out quite as expected.
And no amount of shooting the messenger can disguise that.