Another AI image from Copilot. Rather pleased with this one
My survey of the British political parties reaches Reform UK, the third most important party in terms of vote share. It is hard to understate the influence of this party, the creature of veteran British politician Nigel Farage. In the recent election it made more inroads into the Conservative vote than any other, allowing Labour to win by a landslide on a modest share of the vote; it also helped the rise of the Liberal Democrats, though to a smaller extent. It won only five seats itself, but even this was a bit of a breakthrough in Britain’s electoral system. One of the biggest questions in British politics is whether it can sustain its influence, or whether it will wither, as most third party challenges do in Britain.
Reform’s strategy is to channel the populist backlash that can be seen across most of the western world, from Donald Trump in America to the AfD in Germany. It rages against liberal “elites” and their woke policies, and most of all it rages against high levels of immigration. By and large the established parties handle this criticism badly, accusing it of being racist, amongst other things – even as more and more people from ethnic minorities subscribe to populist politics. The Conservatives are less inclined to do this, but they are badly split between those that want to hop onto the populist bandwagon, and the more establishment types who think that populist politics lead to bad policies. This strand of politics allows Reform to win 15-20% of the national vote, with an effective ceiling of probably about 30%. This invites three questions. What happens if the party reaches this ceiling? Can that ceiling be extended? And does the party have the leadership and organisational capacity to do this?
Supporters of Reform UK, including Matt Goodwin, often cited here, think they represent a forgotten majority. But polling consistently shows that support for their agenda is in the 20-30% region. The rest of the electorate diverges sharply in their views on most issues, and the party has very negative favourability ratings in the population at large. But 20-30% is still an awful lot of people, and if the party could find a way into winning the bulk of them, that would have a big impact. For a start, the Conservatives would be unlikely to survive. Reform’s achievement of about 14% vote share in July proved disastrous for the Tories. No credible route back to power exists for them without pushing Reform back to substantially less than this. Such a Tory collapse would then put Reform in contention to win many seats from Labour, especially in the old “Red Wall”, a swathe of constituencies from Wales to the Midlands to Northern England, based on towns with people who feel left out and left behind. These seats turned to the Conservatives under Boris Johnson in 2019. But how many could they win? I haven’t tried any psephological modelling – but it is surely unlikely that they could even challenge the Liberal Democrats for third place in parliament. They are stuck in the same place as the Lib dems used be in their years of relative success in 1997 to 2010. Lots of votes, but hard to turn these into seats – the Lib Dem vote is now a lot more concentrated, hence its substantial parliamentary presence. Labour would continue to do well in this environment, unless the Lib Dems started to find ways to break out their current geographical containment.
To move into true contention as a challenger to Labour requires Reform to seek an extra 10-15% of the vote, from people who currently disapprove of the party. This is what Donald Trump has successfully done in America, but which European parties in the same space are finding much harder. But our electoral system more closely resembles America’s than it does even France’s, still less those of German and Italy (although there the populists have found a path to power through alliances). Unlike America, Britain does not have a substantial body of active Christians who are appalled by the liberal values prevailing in the governing class. Neither are the liberal left quite as out of control as they have been in America, to stir up those resentments. But what America does show is that economic grievances, and the unsettling effects of mass immigration, can be stoked up among groups, such as younger voters and ethnic minorities, that used be reliable supporters of the left. Wokery played a role in the American realignment in supporting a “there’s madness on both sides” narrative – but it was economic grievance that clinched it for Mr Trump. It is possible for a winning coalition of voters to be built by Reform, or, indeed, by the Conservatives.
But can Reform pull it off? They first have to destroy the Tory challenge, in local elections, and the Welsh Senedd could play a role here. They then need to carry out the second part of the two-step I described in my previous post about the Conservatives. This means drawing support from a number of formerly Conservative politicians and businessmen to give the party some sort of aura of respectability. Reform starts with two advantages. Its leader, Nigel Farage, is an immensely experienced politician and a gifted communicator (the BBC can’t get enough of him). He (unlike the former academic Mr Goodwin) would understand the analysis I have just written, and clearly knows what he has to do. The second advantage is that the Conservatives have a toxic legacy from their years in government after 2019, when they showed themselves to be chaotic and incompetent. The party’s new leadership is clearly struggling to put distance between them and this legacy.
But the Tories have a huge advantage: they have political infrastructure – organisation, networks, administrative competencies. Here Reform are weak: they are way behind the Lib Dems, never mind the Tories. Uniquely amongst Britain’s main political parties, the party has a corporate structure, which makes it easy for the leadership to control, but much harder to build the networks the party needs to sustain a successful political movement. Mr Farage clearly recognises this, and building this infrastructure was a central theme at the party’s recent conference. But it doesn’t help that populist politics tends to attract event more cranks and argumentative types than other forms of politics, and fewer of the steady organisational types. Rapid expansion risks collapse into chaos.
But the potential remains. Reform’s poll share is holding up well after the election. There looks to be plenty of scope for stirring up economic grievance and resentment. Reform UK is very much the party to watch at the moment.
Copilot’s idea of a two-step. Copilot has become very chatty all of a sudden, but much slower at generating images. Is this a portent for the development of AI?
I’m not a dancer. I have no idea whether the two-step really is the appropriate metaphor for what I want to describe – and a quick online search doesn’t really help. But in my survey of the state of Britain’s political parties I have come to the Conservatives. What they need to achieve requires two distinct steps. The question is whether their leadership has the skill to do this, or whether it will tumble in the process of trying.
The Conservatives suffered an unmitigated electoral disaster in July: both in terms of share of vote and in seats won it was their worst performance in living memory… and considerably beyond that. They lost votes in three directions, to Labour, to the Liberal Democrats and to Reform UK. This is all the more remarkable because in 2019 they achieved a landslide victory and it was widely assumed that they would stay in power for the foreseeable future. But this dramatic reversal contains the seeds of hope: politics has become so volatile that even a disaster on this scale can surely be reversed in less than five years? The party now has a new leader, Kemi Badenoch, who is bringing a fresh approach to the leadership. For reasons that I have explained in my earlier post on Labour, incumbency is a tough gig in a world where economic growth has suddenly become much harder to achieve. And Labour’s vote share makes it look vulnerable. Recent opinion polls already show the Conservatives with a small lead, albeit with a still dismal share of the vote.
With rather touching naivety the Financial Times political columnist Stephen Bush suggested a short while ago that what the party needed to next was to grapple with the new economic reality (though he does not frame that reality in quite the same way as I do) and come up with a policy framework that addresses it. Oh dear! Success in current politics comes with magical thinking. Look at the impossible policy programme put forward by Boris Johnson to allow the Conservatives to win big in 2019. Look at Donald Trump’s winning formula in this year’s US election. There is no reward for presenting voters with tough choices, and especially not in a very competitive political market. The party has no need to grapple with the awkward realities of public policy. But that is not as easy as it sounds. Any old magical thinking will not do. After all Labour under Jeremy Corbyn also indulged in magical thinking in 2019, and that was disastrous. The party has to create a narrative which resonates across a wide audience.
Successful politics is about coalition-building: aligning support from disparate groups of voters. Mr Johnson successfully built one that embraced working class voters in Northern, Midland and Welsh constituencies, alongside professional voters in prosperous suburbs, and traditionally conservative rural voters. Mr Trump has done something very similar. This is not easy. Matt Goodwin, the radical-right political commentator, correctly identifies that just such a coalition ensured the Conservative victory in 2019, and the party’s betrayal of the working-class element sealed its defeat. But he then goes on to excoriate those suburban and metropolitan voters (“elites”) that were part of the coalition as being the scum of the earth. How do you rebuild the coalition then? Political activists like Mr Goodwin actually aren’t that interested. They want to promote the interests of one part of a winning coalition, and are uninterested in any compromises that might be needed to bring about ultimate success.
That sounds unhelpful to a Conservative leader, but he isn’t entirely wrong. That seems to be the lesson from America. Mr Trump, while building his successful campaigns (as opposed to what he actually did in office) never compromised with his “base”. This consisted of two distinct, though overlapping groups. These were working class voters with lower educational attainment, who are often looked down on by governing elites, and conservative religious communities, who have their own policy agenda, and dislike of irreligious liberals. Once these groups were secure and enthusiastic, he could work on less committed groups, and persuade them to suspend judgement on issues that they were less comfortable with, and indulge in magical thinking in others. These people were persuaded that it was time for a shake-up, and that the Republicans would surely not be as bad as they sounded. This is what I am describing as the two-step. Secure the radicals first, then move onto the moderates.
It is not the only possible two-step. The more traditional one is to make a strong bid for the “centre ground”, and then turn to the radicals to say that “this is the best you are going to get”. This is the Tony Blair version of the two-step, which secured him three electoral victories for Labour. It is also what Sir Keir Starmer is doing for Labour currently. The radicals-first two-step does seem to be easier to do from the political right. Mr Corbyn did make a valiant attempt with this strategy for Labour, and it came much closer to success in 2017 that most people expected. But he did not understand how to keep the more sceptical voters on board. He was no match for Mr Johnson.
Both versions of the two-step are open to Mrs Badenoch. In the radicals-first version, she would move her tanks onto Reform UK’s lawn, and use the party’s superior resources and organisation to crush it. She needs to lean in to the sort rabid ranting indulged by Mr Goodwin, and weather the criticism from her own side. And then, in about 2027, she needs to start promoting scepticism for Labour, and getting more moderate Conservatives to suggest that she isn’t so bad, and that Labour are truly awful – in the way that so many less extreme Republicans have done for Mr Trump. The centre-first option would involve crafting an appeal to more professional voters first, and then crushing Reform. To be honest, this does sound much harder. Professional voters are much harder to woo with magical thinking, and that would indeed mean confronting some of the policy dilemmas that Stephen Bush was suggesting. Sir Keir understands this well, and would challenge her at every step.
Either way, it requires both political guile and forcefulness. There is no way through the middle with the two-step. Is Mrs Badenoch up to it? It is very early days, and it is hard to tell. The early signs are not encouraging (for her party – more encouraging for those who do not wish her well). It does indeed look as if she is trying to thread a middle way, a bit like the ill-fated Ed Miliband tried for Labour in 2010 to 2015. She enthusiastically attacks wokeness, but she is also trying to give her approach a bit of intellectual rigour, so as to dress it up for more professional types. That gets her into trouble. Is she, or is she not, in favour of maternity pay? She may find these early days bruising, but she may learn from them – much as Sir Keir did in his early days as Leader of the Opposition.
The jury is out. She is already attracting a heavy weight of sneering and criticism. If she does try to carry the battle to Reform as her first step, then a lot more of this is to be expected, and her ratings will dip in the population at large. But if the Reform ratings start to come under pressure we will know if she is winning. I don’t wish her well, but it will be interesting to watch.
05/07/2024. London, United Kingdom. The Prime Minister, Sir Keir Starmer and his wife Victoria arrive at Number 10 Downing Street upon his appointment. Picture by Kirsty O’Connor/ No 10 Downing Street
Sir Keir Starmer, Britain’s Prime Minister, can be summed up in a single word: Focus. He is learning the problems that this characteristic brings. His focus on winning the election on 4th July has made his life much harder now that he has won. Labour has made an awkward start to its term of office.
In government Sir Keir’s focus is on five “missions”. This is an admirable approach compared to the chaos of Conservative governments, especially since 2016. We can quibble about the design of those missions: number one is “kickstart economic growth”. Growth makes a poor target: it’s both a bit like targeting happiness, which is something that happens when your are trying to achieve something else, and a bit like targeting the birth rate, which just isn’t under state control. It is under this heading that housing is being tackled: much better to have targeted housing specifically, surely. Social care doesn’t make it into the five – which cover the energy transition, law and order, education and the NHS (or in fact health) – but which of the others would you drop? Neither does immigration, which would have featured in any Tory big five – but that is more understandable. Focus is integral to achievement,- but it comes at the expense of risk management. A lot of the skill of management is learning how to balance the conflicting requirements of focus and risk management. Sir Keir must not be too relentlessly focused – he needs to have a strategy for dealing with the many other issues that have the potential to derail. He needs to use trusted colleagues for this.
What Sir Keir had clearly hoped was that the sight of a government clearly focused on achieving the nation’s priorities would present such a contrast to the previous government that he would have a prolonged honeymoon – especially as there is no coherent opposition. That has not been so. The summer’s big unforeseen event was the rioting that followed the Southport murders – but these played to Sir Keir’s strengths. A strict no-excuses crackdown was what the public wanted and this was delivered without hesitation. But from this emerged a big problem: neither he nor his most important colleague, his Chancellor of the Exchequer Rachel Reeves, are good communicators. They are wooden in their presentation and in their responses to questions. This has not helped them in their presentation of bad news about the government finances, the need for continuing austerity, and in particular the cancellation of the winter fuel allowance for all but a few state pensioners, just as fuel costs were rising again. They are blaming this on the previous government covering up a black hole in the nation’s finances -but this is coming across as insincere. Not without reason.
The problem is that the “black hole” in government finances is not at all surprising – so acting surprised looks fake. Throughout the election campaign the Institute for Fiscal Studies, a well-respected think tank, complained that all the parties were painting too rosy a picture of the nation’s finances. It really wasn’t hard to see why. The previous government was trying to use inflation to squeeze public sector costs – and noticeably force down the real pay of public sector workers. On this basis they fairly transparently cooked official forecasts that they could make cuts to National Insurance – even after they had tried to raise the tax in 2022. But Labour were silent about all of this, choosing not to challenge the Conservative’s general policy direction. Both parties seem to have been obsessed by the thought that the 2024 election could be a repeat of the one in 1992, where the Tories successfully built a campaign on “Labour’s Tax Bombshell” that turned a seemingly inevitable victory for Labour into defeat. Labour promised not to raise any of the main taxes (Income Tax, National Insurance and VAT), matching a Tory promise and said they would match Tory spending projections except in a few specific places. They were evasive on the clear implication (highlighted by the IFS) that this meant austerity in most aspects of government spending. Sir Keir’s focus was on winning the election with an outright majority, and he wanted to leave nothing to chance. If he was being dishonest, then he was no more so than the Tories, the thinking g seems to have been.
But, as my mother used to say, two wrongs don’t make a right. Labour could have been more honest about the state of the nation’s finances before the election, and they weren’t. The focus on winning the election has made the task of government much harder. Sir Keir has been desperate not to repeat the Tory habit of over-promising and under-delivering, and has been caught out over-promising. He is, of course, trying to pin this on the previous government, in the manner that David Cameron’s coalition government pinned the blame for its austerity policies in 2010 on the previous Labour one. But Mr Cameron, his Chancellor David Osborne, and even his Lib Dem deputy, Nick Clegg, were all much better communicators than Sir Keir of Ms Reeves (not that this did Mr Clegg any good…). Their hopes rest on the fact that with the next election four or more years away, some more positive events may have overtaken this difficulty.
I am disappointed. I had allowed myself a brief moment of hope. The speed with which the government settled the various public sector wage claims seemed to show a degree of imagination. They must have overcome firm Treasury pushback that “we can’t afford it”. But the better country that they want to bring into being features a happier public sector workforce, and better pay for the bottom and middle quartiles, and less dependence of cheap overseas immigrant workers. Squeezing public sector pay, with no plan for when any catchup might happen, is just takes the country further away from this goal. This is the reason I think that Jeremy Hunt, Ms Reeves’s predecessor, was one of the most disastrous Chancellors of recent times. He swallowed the Treasury logic on payrises and then made things worse with tax cuts.
But that flicker of hope has been suffocated. No evidence of such a degree of long-term vision has emerged. Instead the story was that the urge to settle the disputes was because they were unpopular and a distraction, and the previous government could be blamed. I was particularly disappointed that the government allowed the Treasury to defer the previous government’s plan to tackle the growing social care crisis, for the nth time. The government has to stick to its promises on tax, and social care didn’t make it onto the big five priorities. But the long-term consequences are not good, and some kind crisis is in the making. Labour’s focus on the election is making the challenge of decent long-term government harder.
Still, it isn’t all bad news for the government. None of the contenders for the Conservative leadership look capable of leading a revival for that party. The rift on the right, with the success of Reform UK, looks as if it will do for Labour what the rift on the left did for Mrs Thatcher in the 1983 and 1987 elections – enable landslide victories on the basis of lacklustre vote share. And the Lib Dems show some of the same problems as Labour. A relentless focus on doing well at the election at Tory expense leaves them ill-equipped to tackle Labour. The prospect that Sir Keir will get a second term remains good. The mandate that he seeks at that election will be critical to the success of his project overall. He needs to give himself much more room for manoeuvre.
PS Other commitments mean that this will be my last post for at least a couple of weeks. I plan to resume after the Lib Dem conference with my thoughts on what that party should do next.
The changed electoral map. Source: the Liberal Democrats
It was a dull election campaign but an earthquake of a result – not less significant for it having been widely predicted. Above all it shows just how much the country’s electoral system dictates its politics. That is how Labour won, and that is how they will stay in power.
I resisted the temptation to update my electoral predictions last week, as I didn’t have much more to add. If I had I would have talked up the Greens a bit, and also predicted that Jeremy Corbyn would win his seat of Islington North – notwithstanding a very dodgy local poll saying that he was well behind. I sensed that as people became more assured of a substantial Labour victory, with even the Tories saying so, that left-leaning voters, unenthused by the party’s relentless centrism, would vote for alternatives. The Tory tack of talking up Labour, referred to as the “Queensland Strategy”, to try and persuade people to vote Conservative to provide an opposition to Labour, was laughable. The Tories showed much more interest in fighting each other than opposing Labour.
The results proved me broadly correct, including those late predictions I didn’t publish – though I was surprised about how well the pro-Gaza independents did, unseating the prominent Labour front-bencher Jonathan Ashworth, for example, and nearly doing so to Labour big-hitter Wes Streeting. There were two main surprises for me though. The first was just how low was the overall share of the vote that Labour eventually got (about 35%) – much lower than the polling predictions, and with a much lower lead over the Conservatives (10% compared to a consistent 20%, though this dropped a bit in the last polls). This did not have much impact on the result in seats, though; a lot of this dynamic was happening in safe Labour seats, with Labour supporters moving to Greens and Independents, or not showing up to vote. The other surprise was quite how many seats the Liberal Democrats won. My argument had been that weakness on the ground would place an upper limit on the party’s performance of about 50 seats; in the event they won 72 – and nearly won a slew of others. There is an upper bound to Lib Dem performance – but it’s quite a bit higher than I thought it was. In about half the seats the Lib Dems won, pre-election campaigning was weak – but there was enough local council strength for the party to make the case for tactical votes, and there must also have been a bit of help from the national campaign, which managed to increase support for the party overall, over the course of the campaign (though it ended up in vote share more or less where it was in 2019).
Interestingly, the MRP polls, a big feature of this campaign, did not come off as badly as the ordinary ones, though they made similar mistakes with the overall vote shares for Labour and the Conservatives. The Labour victory was at the lower end of the range of these projections, but at least it was within it. They picked up more of a sense of how efficient the Labour and Lib Dem polling was in electoral terms, and inefficient was that for Reform UK and the Greens. They didn’t see the rise of the independents, and the projections for individual seats were often wayward, especially for the distribution of votes between the parties. As I suggested in my comments during the campaign, they exaggerated Labour strength in Lib Dem targets – allowing many a Labour leaflet to suggest that the party was in contention when it was in fact a distant third.
So the Labour victory was big but shallow, with many close results. Indeed, supporters of the previous leader, Jeremy Corbyn, noted that the party won fewer votes than when their man was leading – making the narrative of why Sir Keir Starmer’s stewardship proved so successful much more complicated than the mainstream explanation suggests. Labour did not win, so much as the Tories lost. Sir Keir Starmer did not win over many people to his party (and he lost a good few), but he did not scare as many Tory voters as his predecessor – allowing them to stay at home or vote for Reform.
To be fair on Sir Keir, he seems to understand the thinness of his mandate. He is not using the scale of his victory to suggest that he has public support for radical policies. He is trying to establish a reputation for competence – something the Conservatives lost in the wake of the Brexit referendum. Labour will, of course, relentlessly blame the country’s “14 years of Tory chaos” – never mind that these followed three years of Labour chaos, and that the first six years were not especially chaotic. But whether it was 8 years of chaos or 14 makes no real difference to voters. This is a sensible strategy. The populist right plan a relentless attack on Labour for being “woke” – attending to the “luxury beliefs” of liberals and the identity politics of some ethnic minority politicians. Sir Keir’s best hope of winning the next election is to contrast the wildness of these attacks with the unfussy competence of reality. Good luck with that. He has the discouraging examples of Francois Hollande in France, and Gerhard Schroder in Germany. Two uncharismatic but competent left-of-centre politicians who were/are unable to manage the stresses of modern politics. Still, those leaders were operating in a very different political systems. So long as Labour can keep the right divided, its chances are good.
On the question of the right, I continue to follow the writings of populist promoter Matt Goodwin. I like him because he is reasonably factual, unlike many of his fellow travellers, who trade in conspiracy theories and lies. He did not have a particularly good election. He was elated by the Reform surge after its leader, Nigel Farage, started to seriously engage in the campaign. He went on to breathlessly call an inflection point, with Reform surpassing the Conservatives, backed up his own polling organisation, which proved by some margin to be the least accurate of all those publishing polls. But then Reform flatlined, and Mr Goodwin started to talk about the French elections instead. Looking back on the election, he is now calling the Reform glass half full. It has indeed peeled off the working class/lower middle class part of the Tory 2019 coalition, but it is making little progress beyond that. The Conservatives outpolled them by 10% – and its much stronger ground organisation showed. A pile of second places is no use in the British electoral system – and you need a strong ground operation to turn those second places into wins – just ask the Liberal Democrats. Complaining about the electoral system doesn’t cut it. The chances of Reform doing that on their own in more than a handful of places looks thin.
That leaves a stalemate on the right. Clearly it needs to rebuild the 2019 coalition, across working class and middle class voters, and in the north, south, east and west of England and Wales. Reform can’t do that. The Conservatives have two strategies open to them: the first is to displace Reform from the ground they now hold, and then rope in the middle classes and professionals later. But that will be hard: they have lost trust, and now that Mr Farage is in parliament he is in a strong position to fight them off – unless they can find a way of bringing him on board. The other strategy is to regain the middle ground, and then attack and squeeze Reform nearer to the next election, rather as David Cameron successfully did in 2015 to Ukip, a Reform forerunner. But Tory grassroots seem to have little patience for such a strategy, and they need somebody to lead it who is untainted by the Johnson, Truss and Sunak regimes – their own Keir Starmer. The likelihood is that the party will tear itself apart while trying to decide. This is Labour’s best hope, as they inevitably get bogged down in the mid-term.
What of the Lib Dems? Their large slew of MPs will give them more money, and more clout in parliament. It is a very different party from the ill-disciplined and eclectic group of local activists of the early 2000s, who often opposed Labour from the left. The centre is much stronger – this year’s campaign was notable for the strength of its central campaign, and consistency of its message across the country. They will seek to consolidate their gains, and build up new prospects. Their campaigning will continue with the same voter-led messages (health, care and the environment). But there is a hunger within the party for something more idealistic, defining what the party is all about. There will also be pressure to ramp up messaging around Europe. Perhaps they are shaping up to be part of a coalition with Labour in 2028/29.
But the big message of this campaign, demonstrated by both Labour and the Lib Dems, and in reverse by Reform and the Greens, is that elections are won by constituency-led targeting. The electoral system is shaping politics as completely as ever. Will electoral reform come back onto the political agenda? There are three broad options. The first is the Alternative Vote, which is not much more than a tweak to the existing system, but one which would allow those disenfranchised Reform and Green voters (to say nothing of third-placed Conservatives and Labour ones) more of a say. This would suit the Conservatives best – the Australian experience is that such a system ultimately reinforces the power to the two main established parties. And yet they united in opposing exactly this system when it was put to a referendum in 2011. The more radical alternative is proportional representation, which would suit Reform and the Greens best. This would have Lib Dem support too, though it is unclear that the party would benefit much, and it also has the support of many Labour grassroots.
But such chatter is irrelevant. The Labour leadership is focused on its core “missions”, which do not include political reform – and turkeys don’t vote for Christmas. Until there is a public groundswell to change the system, as there was in New Zealand in the 1990s, there will be no serious move to change things. The British electorate is very conservative, as that 2011 referendum showed. And if such a groundswell was going to happen, I think it would have happened already. Reform and the Greens need to learn from the Lib Dems and embrace local politics.
Electoral efficiency in British elections. From The Economist
Credit MS Image Creator again. Not exactly Ice Cold in Alex, I know, but no problems with copyright
It’s my favourite scene from British cinema, in IceCold in Alex, the classic war film released in the year of my birth, 1958. The film tracks the fortunes a four British soldiers (including a female nurse played by Sylvia Sims) as they escape the German capture of Tobruk in 1942 in an ambulance, heading for Alexandria across the Qattarra depression. Not far from journey’s end, when they are exhausted, they are confronted by a sand slope that the vehicle can’t climb under power. They are able to get it up the hill in using the hand-crank – an incredibly laborious process. Near the top they pause for a rest. The Sylvia Sims character is left to ensure that the crank is held in place. But in a lapse of concentration she lets go, and the vehicle rolls all the way back to the bottom. The Sims character is distraught. “My fault,” says the commander, played by John Mills, “I should have set the hand-brake.” With this he rallies the team and they try again, this time successfully. Disaster is turned to triumph.
It is a classic picture of leadership: pulling a team together by shouldering the blame, even when there is an obvious alternative culprit. The Mills character is a flawed one, with a drink problem, but at the moment of crisis he knows how to lead. What a dismal contrast with modern political leadership. As the Conservatives contemplate turning triumph in 2019 into disaster in 2024, we might reflect on that. Three successive party leaders have been unable to shoulder responsibility for things that have gone wrong. Sometimes, like Boris Johnson, they mouth the words, but they are self-evidently empty, as the excuses come out in practically the same sentence (“it was my responsibility but I made no mistake,” is the line), and there no hint of accepting a personal cost. Liz Truss remains utterly brazen. Rishi Sunak glides over problems as if they were happening to somebody else. I think this is critical to understanding the Tory predicament.
Of course there are big differences between the fictional scene in Ice Cold in Alex, and the rigours of political leadership. The position of the John Mills character is not in doubt: his job is to rally his small team. In political leadership, taking responsibility often means sacrificing your own position, or at least offering to. But somebody acknowledging mistake of their own to take the blame away from others has huge power in any context. It is a dangerous thing for a politician to do, which is why so few do. And yet there is a cost to not doing it. Each time something goes wrong and the leader dodges the blame, his or her authority is diminished. This is what did for Mr Johnson. Each time he seemed to get away with it, but his authority ebbed until his position became untenable.
This is why the current betting scandal (the prime minister’s aides betting on the election date based on inside information) is so damaging. This is a different sort of leadership failure. You cannot point to a particular mistake that Mr Sunak made, though I suppose he could have warned his staff explicitly against betting – he really shouldn’t have needed to. It is, though, reflective of weak ethical standards, which to some extent reflects wider leadership. The bigger problem is what Mr Sunak did, or did not, do when the scandal broke. He immediately fell back on the line that because there is an independent investigation, he shouldn’t comment further – and he would not suspend the election candidates involved, though the staffers do appear to have been put on leave. The problem here is that a lot of the critical facts are directly known by Mr Sunak – the decision to go for a July election was his. He knows what people knew and when they knew it. This is the basis for a much stronger response – such as an immediate suspension (“they were part of my inner team and I feel very let down”), or else a public explanation along the lines of “I did not tell them about the decision, and this is best left to the Gambling Commission”. This may breach the guidelines made by the Gambling Commission about not commenting, but one of the attributes of leadership is knowing when to break the rules. As it is, the episode makes him look like a passenger rather than the driver.
This is especially damaging because it reinforces the apparent refusal of the party to take responsibility for anything that happened in the last 14 years of Conservative-led rule – as pointed out by The Economist‘s Bagehot column. This weakness is obvious to the electorate. At a hustings at the weekend, our local Tory candidate (Mims Davies, a government minister) struggled valiantly with this – on the one hand taking the official line “this is terrible and we will do something about it” when confronted by an awkward issue (sewage, immigration, housing, etc.), and on the other trying to establish a stronger narrative that the government has been in the case throughout (she actually defended the increased levels of immigration) – for which she will have had no help from the central campaign. Tory infighting over that 14 years, and especially since the end of coalition in 2015, has been so deep that the leadership can’t seem to make up its mind as to whether their government was a good thing or not.
To date I have been predicting disaster for the Conservatives, but have said that conditions on the ground will limit the damage, while putting an upper limit on the smaller parties, notably the Liberal Democrats, but also the Greens and Reform. I am seriously starting to have my doubts about this, such is the failure of Mr Sunak’s campaign. The Conservatives are now resorting what the professionals call the “Queensland strategy” (the country’s political tacticians seem to be heavily influenced by Australia), of saying there is a danger in Labour winning big, and the party is needed to form a decent opposition. That is desperate: it still leaves the question of whether voters really want to be represented by the party. Former Tory voters drawn in by Mr Johnson’s pro-Brexit appeal to former Labour voters feel betrayed by the party, especially under its current leadership. Home Counties voters, such as those I live among, many of them anti-Brexit, if only in hindsight, are utterly appalled at the party’s tilt to win these voters back. Tory candidates like Ms Davies seem to think their best hope is to appeal as sturdy local champions, be as polite as possible, and hope that the anti-Tory vote is split. This is by no means hopeless in East Grinstead and Uckfield – where there is no Reform candidate, and a strong independent. At the hustings the Lib Dem, Benedict Dempsey, performed impressively, but so did the Green, Christina Coleman, and that independent, Ian Gibson. But even without a strong ground campaign I am starting wonder whether the competent Lib Dem national campaign is cutting through in areas like this where the Labour ground campaign is weak, and there is little tradition of support for that party. The Tory Queensland Strategy might work to the favour of the Lib Dems. If the hustings reflected the local electorate, I think that would be the case. But although it was well attended, such meetings are notoriously unrepresentative.
What is clear is that that the country is about to experience an electoral earthquake that will be talked about for generations. And all because the party of government forgot how to lead. As the Conservatives survey the wreckage on 5th July, there will be no John Mills there to rally them to climb back up the hill.
More from MS Image Creator. I’m getting bored of the “realistic” style so tried a cartoon instead
So just how wrong have I been about the UK general election? My first prediction was that there would be a limit to the Conservative decline (at about 100 seats), and that there was no chance that the Liberal Democrats would overtake them. The Reform UK insurgents would be unable to replace the Tories. In my second post I suggested that the Conservatives would narrow the gap on Labour by squeezing Reform, limiting the overall size of their loss.
The second prediction is not faring well. I was wrong-footed by Reform’s leader, Nigel Farage, changing his mind about standing himself, and being the formal party leader. His initial declaration got Reform off to a bad start, and offered the Tories an opportunity. But the Tories made a weak start, and Mr Farage is back, attracting media like bees to a honeypot, including the supposedly establishment-biased BBC. The Conservative attempt to squeeze Reform supporters has stalled, at least at the national level, and even gone into reverse. More than one MRP poll now suggests that Reform might even pick up a handful of seats.
But I’m holding fast to my first prediction. There is quite a lot of breathless talk about the Tories being crushed, with well under 100 seats retained. One or two MRP polls suggest that they will indeed by eclipsed by the Lib Dems. Reform cheerleader Matt Goodwin, whose Substack is one of my main sources of information on the populist right, is talking of an inflection point, with Reform overtaking and crushing the Conservatives. Even the Financial Times‘s Stephen Bush finds himself dealing with the speculation that the Lib Dems might overtake the Conservatives in terms of seats won – though he still considers this unlikely.
My logic is rather different from that of other commentators, though. It is that the actual results in many constituencies are determined by the activity of local activists on the ground – canvassing, leaflet delivery, posters and such, often referred to as “the ground war”, as opposed to the “air war” of media. The ground war helps voters decide who is really in contention in their seat, and then to decide on the least-worst option. This is more likely to change minds than anything that happens in the air war, that attracts most of the attention. I am a case in point. I have voted for the Lib Dems or their predecessors in every general election from 1983 (my first vote, in 1979, was for the Conservatives). The only thing that could possibly persuade me otherwise this time is if I thought my local Green candidate was in serious contention in my constituency of East Grinstead and Uckfield – she is my local councillor, and the only one of the candidates I know – and whom I’m quite impressed with. She claims that this is the case based on local election results; but the Lib Dem candidate makes the same claim based on 2019 election results (complicated by the fact it is a new seat); meanwhile the tactical voting recommendation from Best for Britain is for Labour, based on an MRP poll. It’s as clear as mud, though I think the Labour claim to be ridiculous. The Tory candidate (Mims Davies, the MP for the now-defunct Mid-Sussex constituency) has not given up, and has been canvassing in our village, in the extreme south of the constituency. She will surely have quite an easy ride back into parliament, even if she fails to get 40% of the vote, which is likely.
The Conservatives lack opponents with a proper ground-war capability in so many of their well-off rural strongholds. Labour have never been strong in these seats; the Lib Dem infrastructure is only there for some seats (locally to me in Lewes and Tunbridge Wells, for example), and the Greens in even fewer (the non-rural Brighton Pavilion in my area). Reform is not constructed as a grassroots organisation, and will struggle without a charismatic candidate and an experienced local organiser – which applies in a maximum of three or four seats, I suspect. The MRP poll methodology only picks up the ground war factor indirectly and underplays it. This makes its constituency predictions unreliable in each individual case, though more plausible in aggregate, which is how their success is usually judged. My guess is that the unique conditions of this campaign mean that their aggregate conclusions are out too in most cases – and that the Conservatives will do better than forecast. Though to be fair, there is quite a bit of variation in the MRP seat projections. The ground war factor mean that it is unlikely for the Lib Dems to pass the 50 seat mark, or the Greens 3.
Furthermore, I think Mr Goodwin is running well ahead of the evidence in his claims about Reform. So far I think only one poll, by YouGov, has placed them ahead of the Tories, and that was a week ago. Aggregated poll trackers tend to put them several points behind. Mr Farage’s volte-face gave the party a boost but it doesn’t look like sustained momentum. They may pick up a lot votes in areas where the ground war is weak, such as in safe Labour seats, which might lead them to widespread second places, but little impact on the overall result (a bit like the SDP-Liberal Alliance in 1983 and 1987, and the Lib Dems in 1992 – though in their case it was mainly safe Conservative seats where they did well).
Having criticised recent MRP polls, though, the overall result predicted by Ipsos-Mori (Labour 453, Conservatives 115, Lib Dem 38) is not far from where I think things will end up – though the individual constituency projections are wayward – giving Labour far too big a share in Lib Dem target seats, for example). MRPs are a poor way to guide for tactical voting decisions. The Tories may do a bit better than this, and Labour worse. I hope the Lib Dems will do a bit better too, but then my hopes have run ahead of the actuality for every election since 1983, apart from 1997.
So, to answer the question posed by my blog title, I expect the Tory rot to stop soon, with their ground war strengths serving to limit the damage. What happens next is the big question – but let’s wait until after the election to consider that.
Postscript
Just after I posted this, three new MRPs came out – and Matt Goodwin breathlessly reported a new poll showing a spectacular surge in Reform support to 24%, with the Conservatives languishing on 15%. This poll was conducted by Mr Goodwin’s own organisation, People Polling, for GB News, another Reform promoter. This is curious. Mr Goodwin is an academic and I have no reason to doubt his professionalism in conducting polls. But it is an outlier. It is clearly becoming harder to conduct opinion polls, and a lot of the result depends on how adjustments to the raw results are made. There is always a lot of soul-searching after elections amongst pollsters, which then leaves the impression that they are refighting the last war rather trying the win the current one. Mr Goodwin says that the key change is that a lot of the previous “don’t knows” are making up their minds, and that Reform are doing very well here and the Tories very badly. There is other evidence for the second of these contentions (though that suggested Labour doing well) – a disaster for Rishi Sunak, whose whole campaign was based on the idea that he could rally “don’t knows” who had previously voted Tory.
I don’t think the new MRPs add anything to my analysis, though I haven’t looked at them closely. They show the Tories coming in at roughly 50, 100 and 150 seats. My opinion is that the higher end of the range is the most realistic forecast. I think generally that the MRPs are over-reporting Labour strength in seats that the party isn’t targeting – probably to the benefit of the Tories, but maybe the Lib Dems too.
I asked MS Copilot’s image creator to give me 10 Downing Street, London in the pouring rain. This was the most appealing of the results, none of which were anything close to the real No 10. AI is reported to be close to superseding human intelligence.
Rishi Sunak’s calling of a general election for 4 July in the UK was a surprise – mostly for his own party. Labour and the Lib Dems had taken seriously the stories that he might go for 2 May, so although they were surprised, they were also ready. From the moment of its launch by Mr Sunak in the Downing Street rain, his campaign has not gone well. But things should get better.
The election that comes to mind as a comparison is 2017. Then Theresa May had a poll lead over Labour that was as massive, at the over 20 points, as Labour’s lead is now. But this was so narrowed by election day that Mrs May lost her parliamentary majority, ushering in over two years of parliamentary chaos. This was also a surprise election, and an even greater one, as no election was required before 2020. All parties were poorly prepared. Two main things went wrong for Mrs May. The first was overconfidence by her and her advisors, notably Nick Timothy. They took risks with the manifesto (aligning with the popular opinion that Tony Blair had been too cautious with his commanding lead in 1997), notably on the funding of social care. They also decided that they did not need to risk exposing Mrs May to televised leadership debates – which went down badly with the public. The second big thing to go wrong was that Labour, under Jeremy Corbyn, did an astonishingly good job of rallying anti-government feeling to his party. Because nobody thought he could win, voters were prepared to risk voting Labour in protest.
Labour’s leader, Sir Keir Starmer, is not going to make the first mistake. His party’s commitments are cautious to a fault – this is yet another “the same, only different” pitch. Mr Sunak’s attack lines on the party look very ill-judged. He says that he has a plan for the country, and that Labour are just waffling. All the appearances are the exact opposite – and Labour are doing their best to make it look that way. The Lib Dems are being similarly cautious, targeting their message to floating voters in 40 or so parliamentary seats where the party has an established base. It doesn’t look as if the Conservatives are seriously trying to dent the commanding 40% or so that Labour is polling, or the Lib Dem 10% for that matter.
But the Tories are still narrowing the gap. They are looking to bring on board former voters who are currently saying they are undecided, and 10% or more of the electorate that say they will vote for Reform UK. It is a convenient belief for party activists that all they have to do to win is to enthuse potential supporters in their part of the political spectrum, and not to compromise their values by chasing voters undecided between the two parties. Many on the Labour left believe something similar – citing that remarkable 2017 campaign as evidence. There is some evidence for the Tory version, though. A lot of voters distrust Labour – and that is especially the case for those who say they will vote for Reform.
And Reform’s campaign has got off to a weak start. Their main media star, Nigel Farage, has said that he will not stand this time. Immediately the party lost momentum – coming on top of a weak showing in local elections, which the party disdains. I think the Conservatives will successfully squeeze these voters – and their campaigning seems calculated to be towards that end.
It will be harder to rally the don’t knows without an effective scare message against Labour. Former supporters staying at home is always a large part of the poor performance of weak parties. Mr Corbyn succeeded as he was a fresh face, able to command a body of enthusiastic younger activists, motivated by the perceived outrages of seven years of Tory-led government (notably “Austerity”, but also Brexit). The cautious Sir Keir is in opposition, not government, and is not going to offer such a tempting target. Besides the Conservatives have spent decades putting off younger voters in their bid for the grey vote, and have no body of enthusiastic activists to carry their case to the country’s doorsteps. The failure of housing policy, leading to sky-high property rents and inaccessible home ownership, is a notable aspect of this. Besides the completely justified sense of betrayal felt by newer Conservative supporters, rallied to the party for the first time in 2019, is deep. There is hardly a promise that the party has kept; even “Getting Brexit Done” has lost its lustre.
But it is not inconceivable that the Conservatives will be able to raise their support from the lower 20s to about 30%, and narrow the Labour lead to the lower 10s. That will not be enough to stop a comfortable Labour majority. But it will be a lot better than the total meltdown being forecast by some.
How the Tory party looks to some… More from MicroSoft Image Creator
In the local elections this month the Conservatives did very badly. Their leader’s attempt to suggest that they pointed to a hung parliament is delusional. I have heard the suggestion that they may do so badly at the next election that the Liberal Democrats will form the official opposition. The example of the Conservatives’ Canadian sister party in 1993 is quoted – they slumped from being governing party to just two parliamentary seats. The vultures are starting to circle, with at least two people (Matt Goodwin and Dominic Cummings) suggesting that a replacement party be built to cater for conservative voters, alongside the rising ambitions of Nigel Farage’s Reform UK. But that is folly.
First of all, I think the Conservatives are heading for a rout in the next general election – and probably their worst ever result. Some people simply can’t believe that such a reversal of the 2019 landslide is feasible; others suggest that the polls always narrow as an election approaches. Party managers at the Labour Party and Liberal Democrats are both (rightly) anxious to suppress complacency amongst their campaigners, and are happy to promote such talk. But this is driving through the rear view mirror, and reminds me of the sort of things some Lib Dems were saying before their polling disaster in 2015. History does help us judge the future, but you should never be slave to it. The Conservatives are in a unique predicament, and show now signs of understanding a way out.
But we can dismiss talk of the Lib Dems getting more seats than the Conservatives. They did manage to win more council seats at the local elections, which was quite a feat when the councils in contention weren’t particularly advantageous to the party (unlike last year). But that’s council seats: as you go higher up the election size, the Lib Dems rapidly disappear. The Conservatives won 19 out of 33 Police and Crime Commissioners in England; Labour won the other 14, and three more in Wales, where Plaid Cymru won one. The Lib Dems were nowhere in sight. Neither was the party in contention in any of the 11 regional mayoral elections (10 to Labour, one to the Tories). This shows that there remains a massive bedrock of Tory support in rural areas, which the Lib Dems (and Greens for that matter) can only tackle in a very localised way; the Labour vote is also very patchy here. Even when the Tories are doing very badly, the anti-Tory vote is very fragmented. In order to win one of the other parties has to convince the voters that the other potential challengers aren’t in serious contention; not only is that a hard case to make in many places, but they don’t have the campaigning strength to get that message across in these often massive constituencies. There will be no electoral pacts involving Labour – and if there is one between Greens and Lib Dems (there is no such talk that I’m aware of – although this did happen in 2019) it will be very limited in scope. The Lib Dems are focusing their campaigning efforts on a relatively small number of constituencies, although exactly how many is always under review. This number is not likely to be more than 40 seats; when they targeted much more than this in 2019, the result was disaster. The polls, and the local results, show that the party has no general groundswell of support, and it will only succeed in places where it has campaigning strength. The Greens may have more of a general groundswell of support, but their campaigning strength is much weaker. If they spread their efforts over more than half a dozen seats they will be seriously wasting resources; they are in serious contention in about three at the most – one of which (Brighton Pavilion – their only existing seat) they might well lose to Labour, after the retirement of the popular Jean Lucas. The insurgent right is at this stage only represented by Reform UK, which has little grassroots organisation, and is unlikely to present a serious threat in the Conservatives’ rural strongholds either – though their presence seems to terrify many Tories. The party should secure at least 100 seats even on a very bad night – and easily enough to surpass the Lib Dems’ practical maximum of 50.
The more interesting question is what happens after the election, and whether one of the right-wing insurgents can supplant the Conservatives, now much reduced in parliament. The obvious challenger is Reform UK, which is regularly polling third in national polls, and can even surpass the Tories in some demographics. But it is hard to take this party seriously as more than a nuisance. It is constituted as a limited company, under the legal control of a tight clique, led by Mr Farage. Unlike other political parties, there is no attempt to give grassroots supporters any kind of serious say. This limits any development of a serious grassroots organisation. This might work if Mr Farage could muster the sort of charisma and wealth that Donald Trump does in America. But he is not in that class, even if he is quite successful in drawing attention so himself: at one point it was hard to keep him off the BBC. And he isn’t a team player – indeed right-wing insurgency is not a team sport.
It is also hard to take Mr Cummings seriously. He masterminded the successful Vote Leave campaign in the EU referendum, one of the outstanding political achievements in recent British political history; one feature of this campaign, incidentally, was the sidelining of Mr Farage. He actually cares about making things work and designing coherent policy, rather than just grandstanding on the latest political fad. But he is tarnished by his association with Boris Johnson, for whom he was a senior adviser, though eventually falling victim to the chaos that afflicted the Johnson regime. His lack of political skill was evident – and especially his combative style of doing business. It is hard to imagine that he could put together a successful political party.
Matt Goodwin, whose name repeatedly comes up on these pages, is altogether more interesting. He is not the damaged goods that both Mr Farage and Mr Cummings are. He also applies an academic’s discipline to his thought and research. He runs regular polls and focus groups to give him a good understanding of potential supporters and resonant messages. This, apparently, has enabled him to find financial backers, and he is increasingly open over his plans to build a new political movement. His organising theme is his anger at political elites, whom he accuses of trying to impose their liberal values onto a majority of people, who don’t share them. In policy terms his main focus is on excessive immigration, but he also turns his ire onto multiculturalism, wokism and Islamic minorities. As an academic, he lives and works amongst these liberal types, and is very familiar with their complacency and limited vision (“luxury beliefs”) – and his academic research shows how much this is at odds with what the public at large thinks. He further points out that support for liberal policies tends to be in metropolitan areas, and concentrated in an electorally inefficient way. He thinks that this adds up to a political opportunity for a new conservative movement – citing Mr Johnson’s landslide in 2019 as proof that conservative voters form a substantial electoral majority. But that government, he says, was taken over by the liberal elites, and betrayed its voters, for example by opening the floodgates to immigration.
But life is hard for insurgent parties in British politics. It is commonplace to condemn the complacency and out-of-touchness of the existing political parties, and to say that there is an opportunity for a new movement – only for the whole thing to fizzle. None has succeeded since the rise of Labour more than a century ago – and that took a world war. There are three big challenges in particular: first is assembling a winning coalition of support; second is campaigning infrastructure; and third is developing a coherent policy programme.
I have talked about electoral coalitions before – with my image of a kaleidoscope. It’s all very well finding majorities to agree to particular polling questions on immigration, say, but political success means holding together disparate groups. It is not nearly enough to find disaffected voters with lower educational qualifications in the ex-industrial heartlands of North England, the Midlands and Wales. Mr Johnson succeeded because he managed to add these to more liberal metropolitan types wanting to end the Brexit chaos and assuaged by his greenery, and to the retired mass-affluent traditional Tories in the wealthier areas, and so on. This required a combination of political skill and charisma. I don’t see any of the putative Tory rivals providing this.
Then there is campaigning infrastructure. It is just about possible for a small but focused organisation to find 600 parliamentary candidates and get them nominated at election time. Rightwing insurgents have an advantage in that there are likely to be plenty of volunteers, but less so in that they are likely to be a fissiparous and ill-disciplined bunch – one reason for reform UK’s highly centralised power structure (which followed the chaos of Ukip, Mr Farage’s previous vehicle). Creating an organisation able to carry out campaigning – such as door-knocking and leafleting – in a wide enough number of seats is daunting. Campaigners imagine that they can make up for grassroots weakness with canny social media and publicity strategies, but that is an uphill fight against established parties who have the local organisation. The nearest any new movement that has come to succeeding here was the SDP in 1981 (which I was part of) – but this allied with an existing party (the Liberals), used many experienced politicians, and attracted higher-skilled liberal types with strong organisational competence. Current conservative insurgents lack these advantages, unless they can secure mass defections from the Tories, and then ally with it. And the SDP ultimately failed in its aim of replacing the Labour Party in spite of impressive polling numbers in its early days.
And then there is a coherent policy programme. In a political culture that seems to value winning elections (or referendums) more than governing or implementing viable political programmes, this might seem superfluous. Mr Johnson did not have it in 2019, and neither did Donald Trump in 2016 – and he still doesn’t. But you can’t succeed in government without it, unless you resort to repression and corruption. If electoral success depends on building a disparate coalition, unless they unite around a viable programme, this coalition cannot hold – and such a programme offers credibility. Mr Goodwin talks of the Tory government of 2019 betraying its voters – but that was always going to happen as it promised so many incompatible things. A central theme was cutting immigration to move towards an economy where lower skilled wages weren’t being undermined, and so creating a more equal society. But higher wages for less skilled people (and this did start to happen in the early days of the government) leads to inflation and puts pressure on public services, major employers of lower-paid people. That puts pressure on interest rates (and hence mortgage costs), and taxes and public services. The government was simply not ready for this dilemma, which meant betraying other parts of the coalition, and quickly buckled on immigration policy. I don’t actually think that Mr Johnson’s idea on low immigration was necessarily a bad one – but it needed to have coherent planning behind it, and answers to the resulting dilemmas. Mr Goodwin’s policy ideas seem to be similarly based on focus groups and polls, and not on any serious understanding of the practical trade-offs.
Even a charismatic and well-funded person such as Donald Trump, with considerable, if unconventional political skills, chose to co-opt the established Republican Party rather than set up in parallel with it. The conservative insurgents have no such leader, and even if a new party has strong initial success, it surely cannot succeed in the longer run in competition with the existing Conservative Party. They would only serve to offer a lifeline to a new Labour government, who might well find themselves struggling rather quickly.
It is much more viable for conservatives to bend the Conservative Party to their liking, and to promote a comeback as spectacular as Labour’s. Mr Goodwin suggests that the rump Tory party left after an electoral rout will be too dominated by Oxbridge types from the old elite. But the grassroots are more radical, and a strong conservative agenda offers a pathway back to power. The next election may over bar the voting – but the election after that is very much in play.
Back in the 1970s there was a persistent story about lightbulbs (then incandescent tungsten ones) that was trotted forth to demonstrate the madness of capitalism. It was that the life of a bulb was kept deliberately short so as to create demand for replacement bulbs. Apparently it was true – but nobody cared. Whinge as we might at the fringes, politicians and the public were happy to keep the economic treadmill going. Longer-lasting lightbulbs would mean fewer jobs. Those days are long gone. Our lightbulbs now are immeasurably more efficient, and they aren’t built to self-destruct. Few jobs are at stake, and even fewer jobs in countries that use the bulbs. This leaves the world materially much better off. But politicians and economists alike hanker after the those old days – hence their obsession with economic growth.
Even serious economic commentators like the Financial Times’s Martin Wolf can’t break this: Mr Wolf started a recent column with the words: “If the UK’s real gross domestic product per head had continued on its 1955-2008 path, it would now be 39 per cent higher.” This implies that the lack of economic growth in the last 15 years is a failure of economic policy, and not due to a change in the way the modern economy works. This is wrong: instead we should think of the second half of the 20th Century as a unique period in economic history – and recognise that we have long since entered a new era, one in which sustained growth of gross domestic product per head is not a feature – nor even really desirable. Life can get better, but not through consuming ever more stuff.
Economists don’t like to look behind their beloved aggregated economic statistics, which they like to treat as classical physicists once did the measurements of pressure, temperature and volume of gases. What the gas molecules were made of didn’t matter. Some economists try to construct historical time series of centuries and more in an attempt to build a narrative of economic policy, as if to say that there are common economic principles that are everlasting. To them the post-war era in the developed world, and parts of the developing one, featuring consistent growth is a model of wise policy. Firstly through good macro-economic management, with Keynesian demand management, and then inflation targeting monetary policy: these smoothed out the dips and troughs that were a feature of previous eras. Then there was a consistent advance of productivity through the use of new technologies and more advanced management. “Productivity is not everything,” said the economist Paul Krugman, “but in the long run it is almost everything.”
But looking back on it, that golden age was the result of the convergence of four factors, each of which has reached its limit: the post-war baby boom, bringing women into the workforce, the expansion of world trade, and the rising consumption of manufactured goods. The baby boom expanded the proportion of the workforce that was of working age, but by the 1980s the babies were now all of working age while the birth rate had fallen; and as the boomers reached retirement age in the 2000s, the proportion of people of working age shrank. The economist Dietrich Vollrath did the maths and found that this accounted for most of the tail-off of economic growth per head in the 2000s in America – and in Britain the effect would have been greater, if anything. This led to my comment that “Demographics is not everything, but it is almost everything.” The war brought many women into the workforce, but in the 1950s the convention that married women should stay at home remained powerful. But as families wanted to spend more on consumer goods and property (and technology made housework easier), women were steadily brought into the workforce, increasing the overall rate of employment, and thus driving growth. This trend has been slow but steady – the proportion of women at work was still growing through the 2000s – but now there is not a big difference between male and female employment, and in most economies, including Britain’s, the limit has surely been reached.
Freedom of trade has also been an important driver of economic growth, as the laws of comparative advantage and economies of scale came into play – in notable contrast to the pre-war years. First came GATT – the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, part of the great post-war settlement. Then, for Britain, there was membership of the European Economic Community – which in turn was given a major lift when this morphed into the European Union with its Single Market. But perhaps even more significant was the steady rise in Asian economies, and the huge increase in trade in manufactured goods – a succession starting with Japan, moving through to the Asian “Tigers” (Taiwan, South Korea and so on) onto China, with India in a supporting role. The rise of this trade, referred to as “globalisation” was transformative. The cost of manufactured consumer goods in the early 2000s tumbled as a result, and was one of the critical underpinnings of economic growth. But this trade is no longer growing – and is probably shrinking, while Britain has left the EU and Single Market. Gains from trade are unravelling. This is partly a product of the rise of protectionist politics, but it is also because economic convergence has reduced the potential gains from comparative advantage. Funnily enough the reversal of globalisation is often celebrated by politicians, almost in the same breath as they call for stronger economic growth.
These three factors are well-known amongst economists, even if they don’t talk about them enough when considering the slowdown of economic growth – compared to familiar targets such as lack of public and private investment, NIMBYism, muddled political policy and so on. In contrast my fourth factor seems to be less well understood. In the post war era there was a massive expansion of consumer goods, from cars to cosmetics. This was made possible by advances in technology during the war, with the development of plastics, for example. Keynesian economic policy helped to pump-prime a virtuous circle of increased supply and demand – the expansion of manufacturing and distribution jobs helping to fuel demand. This cycle became central to the growth of advanced economies, copied by many less developed economies, though, interestingly enough, not so much by China, which is another story (they channeled much more of the extra demand into investment, relying on exports much more for growth). Along the way absurdities like the built-in obsolescence of light bulbs were tolerated. Many view this era, up to the late 1970s in Britain, as something of a golden age: one with a largely stable working-class culture, geographically well-spread, and quite a bit of upward mobility into an expanding middle class – before the destruction of the industrial heartlands that started in the 1980s. This view requires rose-tinted spectacles. Some things were clearly better then: access to social housing, for example; and this, combined with high taxes on the rich meant lower inequality and better social cohesion (so long as you weren’t brown or black skinned). Public services were more generously staffed, though usually terribly managed. But was an era of massive environmental degradation and plenty of social strife; film and television dramas of the era depict people shouting at each other but failing to communicate – which is largely how I remember it as I was growing up.
But this age of expanding consumerism could not be sustained. There are only a certain number of cars, fridges and so on the people can own. There was a limit to the amount of electric light that people could constructively use. And besides, advancing productivity meant that fewer jobs were required to sustain demand, and expanding trade kept up fierce pressure on efficiency. The final blow came when when, for reasons of comparative advantage rather than efficiency, the developing economies of Asia took over a huge share of the production of consumer goods. The 1980s onwards saw massive closures of factories and other infrastructure, such as coal mines.
But the standard rejoinder to this from economists is that these developments shouldn’t really matter. Cheaper consumer goods mean that people have more to spend on other things, and these require people to provide them – and these people can be made more productive. Lightbulbs may have been replaced by cheap LEDs made in China, but the new technology can be arranged into much more complicated and creative arrays, which need people to design and install them. But there have proved to be a number of problems with this idea. Economists will admit that manufactured consumer goods have largely been replaced in the modern economy by services, where productivity is a much trickier thing. They call it “Baumol’s Cost Disease”, teach it in Economics Batchelor degrees, and then forget about it.
Unfortunately, a Batchelor Economics degree is as far as my formal economics training went. The theoretical complexities of an economy where increasing productivity comes about through higher quality rather than quantity, and were an increasing amount of consumption goes into access to land, rapidly takes me out of my depth. But the outcome of these complexities is surely that developed economies do not behave as they once did. One problem is that the modern economy is more unequal. Large numbers of people are now extremely well off by past standards, and we have the phenomenon of “mass affluence”. Millionaires are commonplace. But at the other end of the scale many working class jobs are much less secure than the factory and office jobs of the past. The better-off, meanwhile, spend a lot of their money is on status goods and services, rather than basics. (They also save more, which complicates things more – though overall savings rates have gone down rather than up). One of the key ingredients is human content. In olden times this might be the number of servants you employed; nowadays it is the consumption of personal services and use of products whose whole point is that their production processes are inefficient (hand-stitched handbags, etc.). These often require low-paid people to provide. There is surely a danger that this inequality gets entrenched, and that this is a drag on economic development. This is surely one reason that minimum wage policies have not caused the damage that a consensus of economists predicted in the 1990s.
Then you have the problem of leisure. One way for people to exploit the benefits of higher productivity is to work less. This might be more holidays, or (as in my own case) retiring early. Then there is the hobby economy – where people produce things deliberately on a non-commercial basis for the sheer enjoyment of it. All this is perfectly rational economically, but it makes a mess of classical economic assumptions. And here’s the thing: a society were people don’t have to work as hard to achieve a comfortable and fulfilling life is not a failure. But listening to conventional economists you might think it was. Such a society is taking shape through the freely made decisions of economic agents: it is not a failure of policy. We need to understand how much slow growth is the result humanity realising the benefits of greater economic efficiency, and how much is through dysfunction – and I will admit there still quite a bit of dysfunction about.
So what are my conclusions? Firstly it is that most economists are suffering from a fallacy of composition when talking about productivity and growth. They have a mental model of the supply side of an economy being a single business scaled up (“UK plc”) when the reality is much more complicated. Advances in productivity in one place can simply lead to a reduction somewhere else. Secondly we are often confusing the creation of wealth with its realisation. Many people rationally choose to realise wealth by earning less – and the number is growing. Thirdly, the inequalities in our economy aren’t just a bit of untidiness that will resolve itself, but need to be a central focus of economic thought and policy development – as this is likely to do more to advance economic wellbeing that overall economic growth.
Politically this means that both the left and the right are barking up the wrong tree – at least as represented in Britain by the Labour and Conservative parties. Conservatives hanker after a low-tax high-growth society, powered by free-wheeling entrepreneurs. Those days are long gone. Lower taxes simply increase inequality and have nothing to do with growth. Labour assume that better direction from government towards constructive investment will unleash growth that will generate taxes that will fund improvements to public services. This is a lot less wrong-headed than the Conservative narrative. After the years of chaotic Conservative government, it is surely true that a bit of grown up government will unleash a some catch-up growth, enough to generate a bit more tax revenue – and maybe even to lift growth to the top of the G7, as Labour predicts (doubtless thinking that the other six economies are due for a bit of a stall…). But it can’t last – and the party is not ready for the hard choices that lie when it all fizzles out and they are forced to confront various combinations of austerity and higher taxes.
What we need to do is to take a fresh look at society and its dysfunctions and address that dysfunction through slimmer but more effective public services, and intelligent redistribution. Technological advance continues to offer the opportunity to advance human wellbeing – but we will get there faster if break the growth mindset.
The kaleidoscope is an old-fashioned toy that I remember from my youth, which has long since been superseded by digital effects that don’t reproduce its magic. It was a cardboard tube that you looked down, with mirrors inside creating a symmetrical pattern. The magic came from small bits of coloured glass; as you twisted the end of the tube, gravity would force a realignment of these into an ever-changing series of patterns. I could not find an animation of this that did not involve an expensive subscription. You might be able to see this video (which is the real thing, not an animation) by Yuri Pomonev published by Adobe from this link. Digital kaleidoscope animations are plentiful, and they reproduce the mirror effect well enough, but they don’t attempt to replicate the effect of bits of coloured glass and gravity. And that is what my metaphor draws on.
Society is made up of a collection of individuals. We each have a point of view that is unique, shaped by our experiences and our own inner make-up. That applies to our politics, as it does to everything else. But we are social animals, and we like to line up with our fellow humans to feel a sense of togetherness and belonging. This creates political movements and collective alignments. But they are much more fragile than people suppose. As circumstances change, alignments break up and new ones are formed. Like the glass bits in a kaleidoscope.
Politicians often struggle with this. They try to simplify the complex world around them by investing in these temporary alignments, with themselves to at the centre, and imagining that they homogenous blocks that will endure. History is littered with examples. The British left thought this was happening in 2017, when Labour under Jeremy Corbyn did unexpectedly well in the general election, after tacking to the left, and raising turnout among younger voters, among others. They imagined themselves to be one step short winning outright – and many on the left retain this illusion. But instead there was a devastating realignment and in 2019 many of their former voters stayed at home, or voted for other parties, while other voters who had stayed at home in 2017 turned out in droves to vote Conservative. Labour crashed to a huge defeat. The kaleidoscope had turned.
We are now witnessing a similar delusion on the political right. The Conservative landslide in 2019 was interpreted as a popular, majority movement in favour of a suite of far-right policies, often referred to by people like me as “populism”. This was evidenced recently by the extraordinary launch of a new political faction called “Popular Conservativism”, who also want to be known “PopCons”. That this movement was led by Britain’s most unpopular leader of a major political party ever, Liz Truss, just goes to show that Ms Truss is a gift to political satire that just keeps on giving. The remarkable thing about this event was the attention it drew; the launch venue was packed, with many disappointed that there was no room for them. These Tory politicians feel that they are with touching distance of rebuilding a political movement which can give them a strong parliamentary majority.
What drives this view? The answer can be seen from the writings of Matt Godwin, the populist commentator who seems to provide the intellectual fuel for the modern political right. He produces plentiful polling evidence that disillusionment with politics is widespread, and especially evidenced by anger at high levels of immigration. His narrative is that these people are angry at a liberal minority that effectively controls state institutions, and is imposing its often delusional “luxury beliefs” on the rest of the nation. He suggests that support for anti-liberal policies is not just in the majority, but efficiently distributed in Britain’s electoral system, with liberal voters concentrated in a relatively small number of seats.
This narrative has weaknesses, but it is far from nonsense. Mr Goodwin is an academic and knows how to talk about evidence. That is one reason that he is required reading for the whole political spectrum. I have not yet mustered the courage to move beyond my free subscription to his Substack, he tends to talk of his paying subscribers as “supporters” of a political movement, and I think that, for all his useful insights, he is a malign force, acting to make the country’s difficult problems even harder to solve. His demonisation of the liberal elite is especially egregious, and is, in fact, another example of the kaleidoscope delusion. But my views count for little. The more important thing is that he has created a trap that Conservative politicians like Ms Truss have fallen into.
The trap is to think that the popular majority that Mr Goodwin identifies supports the full suite of nationalist-libertarian beliefs that these Tories espouse. These include not just lower migration and a rejection of multiculturalism, but the need for a low-tax, low-spending state, and a minimum of laws to restrain personal freedom. They were outraged by the application of a strict lockdown to combat the Covid-19 pandemic. They also espouse a powerful commercial sector, driving high levels of economic growth and the accumulation of wealth by a lucky minority. In fact the polling evidence points to strong support for regulation of behaviour deemed as antisocial (including the spreading of the covid virus); for strong state services, especially health and a relatively intrusive police force; and for welfare spending, as long as it for universal state pensions to people that have lived in the country most of their lives. Lower taxes are popular, but to the extent that there are trade-offs between taxes and critical public services, or inflation, this cannot be taken for granted. The majority are decidedly indifferent to such abstract ideas as economic growth, and have reservations about rampant commercialism, and the already wealthy getting wealthier still, especially if they are paying less taxes than poorer people. Green policies are ambiguous; Tory populist politicians tend to think that anti-carbon policies are the result of an alarmist conspiracy. A significant proportion of the public probably believe this too – but many more are worried about global warming; David Attenborough’s popularity goes well beyond the liberal 30% that Mr Goodwin demonises. But well-meaning regulations that impinge on people’s daily lives are a tough sell, and the populists may be onto something there.
The PopCons show little sign that they are really in touch with people at large, or that they are able to craft a programme that will allow them to recover their support anything like enough. Their competitors on the right, Reform UK, show even less sign they understand this, though that could change if their President, Nigel Farage, steps back into day-to-day control. But once the current government is consigned to history, there is certainly a chance that a populist coalition is reformed as the kaleidoscope turns again. Out of power, they will not be under such pressure to develop coherent policies, and in particular they will not need to choose between the holy trinity of low immigration, low taxes and low inflation – unless the public twigs that having all three is impossible. But they should give thought to how to appeal to younger voters without overly alienating older ones, as right-wing populists have managed to do in other countries. They might emphasise how high immigration is screwing up the housing market. They should probably talk less about Brexit. It might also help if they downplayed their nativism and criticism of multiculturalism – although these are themes that play well to younger voters in other countries.
But it is not just the political right that needs to worry about the kaleidoscope. Sir Keir Starmer’s Labour Party is polling very well but support is unenthusiastic. Once in power another twist could see its support collapse. If the political right fluff their opportunity, could a challenge emerge from the left? Mr Corbyn’s success in 2017 is perhaps a precedent – but his coalition included mainstream Labour, a lot of whom would stay loyal to a Labour government. Perhaps the rise of Syriza in Greece offers a better example; another case is Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s La France Insoumise movement, although this has failed to win power. Both left-wing movements were alliances of socialist and green parties, co-existing with significance far right populist movements. Both effectively destroyed the historical and centrist socialist parties.
This possibility should not be ruled out, led by a breakaway from Labour, if an appropriate and charismatic leader can be found. It faces two difficulties, however. One is that it probably needs to link up with the Green and perhaps even the Liberal Democratic parties – and these parties have recently being doing well by scooping up liberal-minded voters in the rural areas – to whom a far-left movement is anathema. However, both parties may sense an opportunity if Labour weakens once in power – as they did during the last Labour government. The second problem is that the core of such an electoral coalition is metropolitan voters, typically graduates and working in the public or third sectors – these voters are not distributed efficiently geographically, as conservative voters are: they are concentrated in the big cities (hence “metropolitan”), and the country’s electoral system punishes such concentration. The two issues are linked – as those new Green and Lib Dem voters are distributed in a complementary way. So the far left somehow needs to fuse with the liberal middle class. Perhaps that is not so fanciful – if a programme can be agreed with electoral reform at its heart.
A further possibility is for a liberal-led revival – although this is arguably a variation of the left-led one, as the potential electoral coalition has a strong overlap. The model for is Emmanuel Macron’s En Marche in France – a move which also grew out a lacklustre government of the centre-left. That would be one in the eye for Mr Goodwin – but a Labour government would have sink rapidly for that to be a possibility.
The bigger picture, though, is that Britain’s post-election politics is extremely unpredictable. Much will depend on whether and where capable political leaders emerge. They are lurking deep in the undergrowth at the moment. But the opportunities are palpable.
