Chris Mullin: A man of small victories

After 23 years Mullin leaves the Commons with a modernising victory - a committee will now timetable non-government business. As chair of the Home Affairs committee he brought a journalistic scepticism to enquiries and had an integrity that went beyond party politics. He voted against 90-day detention and claimed expenses for a black-and-white TV. He was a dogged campaigner for the release of the Birmingham Six.

His ministerial career was a shambles. It wasn't that he didn't want it enough - he didn't want it at all. His first act was to resign. But Blair rang him up and in 15 seconds persuaded him to take the job back. However, he had been right the first time. As a minister for Africa his Commons performances amounted to, "I agree it's terrible but it's all more difficult than it appears."

Alan Milburn: He could have been a contender but didn't want it enough

He was an heir to Blair, with brains, charm, looks and more street appeal than the Miliboys. He gave a very good impression of a human being. He was capable of pretending to nod off behind one of his earnest juniors at the despatch box.

He had Third Way ideas of reforming public services by the use of markets. The chancellor crushed him twice – first over foundation hospitals and second over the 2005 election. The campaign was faltering till Brown was brought back in. He withdrew to spend more time with his family and his consultancies. In the end, he didn't want it enough.

John Prescott: Shop-floor magician fluent in the lingua franca of Old Labour

What a rollercoaster of a career he had, what a ride it was. As much as the foursome that founded New Labour (Blair, Brown, Mandelson, Campbell), John Prescott was the one who created the coalition in the party. It was his speech to conference that delivered the Clause Four vote for Blair. His brawling, quayside character kept the coalition together once they were in power. Without him, New Labour's quarterdeck was full of political aristocrats and middle-class intellectuals; only he had a fluent command of the lingua franca of Old Labour. This was recognised in the sincerest way: they made him deputy prime minister.

In the first government he had a super-ministry under his hand, a collection of departments. He struggled among the technocrats and experts . His responsibilities diminished as the years went by and "spatial strategies" lost the glamour they once had. His passion for devolved assemblies never bore fruit, even in the north-east where he massively lost a referendum on the issue.

But he was widely held to have delivered the Kyoto agreement, and became an essential intermediary between Blair and Brown.

He loathed the press, and who could blame him considering the torment he was subjected to? He once threw a comment at us waiting to watch him in committee ? "come to pour another bucket of shit over parliament, have you?" He resented the Tories calling over the floor of the House, "A gin and tonic, if you will, Giovanni!" to the former ship's waiter.

He punched a voter. And looking back it's possible to view that warmly (if you think there's no chance of retaliation, there's no courage in throwing an egg). He had sex with an employee behind the open door of his office. That was less spinnable. She went public later with a description of the encounter, including the words "cocktail sausage". It was a measure of his indispensability that he wasn't sacked.

One other point in his favour: you always knew what he was saying. His syntax may have been a cat's cradle but his meaning was always clear. Tony Blair's sentences were Corinthian, but you never knew for certain what he meant until he explained it a year or two later in front of an inquiry.

Prescott was a public meeting politician with a reach into the messy entrails of his audience. He could work magic on street corners, factory floors, docksides, The modern young technocrats - so at home in interview studios - look puny beside him.