I accidentally stumbled on the televised Legislative Council question and answer session with Chief Executive Carrie Lam Cheng Yuet-ngor last week. Conducted over Zoom, with a uniform virtual background, it illustrated perfectly the collective challenge faced by members of the new and improved 90-member legislature: being lost in the shuffle in this new political matrix. It was intriguing to watch as questions were put to Lam by one legislator after another. They really did seem to morph into one. Hong Kong’s evolving political ecology has made life hard for lawmakers. The pandemic has exacerbated the problem but even without Covid-19, it would be hard for members to “make their mark”. For a chamber made up of political novices, this is especially inhibiting. There is no political nemesis to fight, so figuring out how to avoid being perceived as a talking head in a sea of 90 talking heads will be a challenge. But it’s still early on in their term so hopefully, with time, they will find their breakout roles and develop their lawmaker personas. Some have shown promising signs. The most challenging constituency to be elected in and be a representative of must be the 40-member Election Committee. These lawmakers don’t get to claim an area of people they represent, like their colleagues from the geographical constituencies. They don’t get to claim representation of a sector like those of the functional constituencies, either, or get a “monopoly” over trade-based or related issues. And this is what should pique our interest most: in the current political reality of a battered administration paralysed by bureaucracy, a community that has lost faith in it, and a central government that is increasingly concerned over its competency, what do these patriots do? Election Committee constituency lawmaker Carmen Kan Wai-mun seems to be well on her way to figuring this out. She is a lawyer by profession, and she stuck to her professional expertise in her question to the chief executive. Kan is one of the legislators who urged the government to invoke the Emergency Regulations Ordinance last month to clear roadblocks to mainland assistance in the city’s response to Covid-19. Invoking these emergency powers has, of course, generated debate and criticism in the community. Kan used the opportunity to ask Lam whether the government would use the law again to tackle the pandemic. By doing so, she has continued the discussion, and inserted the matter into the official work and context of the council. Lam had to answer Legco’s questions over the government’s use of its powers. Support for the use of the emergency legislation does not mean the administration should not still be held accountable and made answerable to the local legislature. It’s easier still for us to appreciate Kan’s developing sophistication when we see an example from the opposite end of the spectrum. Junius Ho Kwan-yiu has been struggling with his political identity now there is no opposition to lash out at. His recent episodes have earned him the title of “opposition legislator”, at least according to the socialist Morning Star in the UK. Ho is calling for a no-confidence vote over Lam’s handling of the surge in coronavirus cases. With only months left in her term as chief executvie, Ho’s move is nothing more than a political stunt. And it’s a cheap shot, as well. What Hong Kong’s leaders lack more than anything is a moral compass Perhaps instead, he should have tried calling for such a vote before Beijing stepped in to put the government on notice, instead of waiting for weeks afterwards. That would at least have earned him some respect. Meanwhile, Ho’s criticism of Lam for holding daily press briefings is ignorant belligerence. “I feel disgusted seeing her face”, he said, suggesting that holding these briefings was evidence of her having a lot of spare time. The chief executive should be facing the public. Anything else would be unacceptable. Alice Wu is a political consultant and a former associate director of the Asia Pacific Media Network at UCLA