Why I, a sensible Westminster moderate, will not be apologizing for the Prime Minister’s brave decision to simply lock the door to Number 10 from the inside.
The chattering classes are in an absolute frenzy this week, gripped by the revelation that Keir Starmer has admitted to a few "unnecessary mistakes" while firmly rejecting calls to resign. According to the usual hand-wringers, Labour has lost ground in every conceivable demographic direction, and mutinous frontbenchers are whispering to the Guardian that the Prime Minister’s tenure should not extend past the end of the year. I listened to this hysteria over a rather pleasant pan-seared sea bass yesterday afternoon, and I could only shake my head. Have we become so addicted to the petty drama of electoral popularity that we can no longer appreciate the sheer, unadulterated majesty of a man simply refusing to leave his house?
Let us address these so-called mistakes. The Prime Minister has been accused of misreading the public mood, alienating his base, and fundamentally failing to communicate a coherent vision for the country. To which I say: grow up. Governance is not a popularity contest, despite what the electoral system might technically suggest. When Starmer stands at a podium and calmly explains that he will absolutely not be quitting, he is demonstrating exactly the kind of unyielding, granite-faced stubbornness that built the British Empire. It takes no courage to step down when everyone hates you. It takes a monumental, almost inspiring level of self-regard to look your entire party in the eye, acknowledge that you have ruined everything, and then ask what is for lunch.
And then we have the absolute masterstroke that is the appointment of Gordon Brown as a special envoy on global finance. The critics, predictably, are whining. They ask why a government desperate to prove its modern relevance is exhuming the architect of the 2008 financial landscape to advise on "security and resilience." It is frankly embarrassing how little the average voter understands about the aesthetic beauty of political necromancy.
I had the pleasure of sitting near Gordon at a gala a few years ago, and I can assure you that no one understands the importance of grimly holding onto office while the environment collapses quite like he does. By bringing Brown into the fold, Starmer is not merely seeking financial advice on global cooperation. He is importing a spiritual mentor in the art of the political bunker. It is a signal to the markets that Number 10 is prepared to be as dour, uncommunicative, and resolutely unpopular as necessary to ensure the country’s resilience.
The Prime Minister has made it abundantly clear that he is entirely willing to listen to the concerns of the working people, right up until the exact moment those concerns suggest he should vacate the premises.
The true culprits here are the Labour frontbenchers cowardly leaking their grievances to the press. These are people who fundamentally misunderstand the purpose of the modern Labour Party, which is not to enact sweeping social change or improve the material conditions of the working class, but to provide a sensible, well-tailored buffer between the treasury and the general public. They complain that Labour is losing ground. Well, of course it is losing ground. Ground is dirty. Ground is where the voters live. A truly sensible government operates in the ethereal realm of white papers, fiscal rules, and private dinners in Mayfair.
So I ask the British public to take a deep breath, stop looking at the polling maps, and learn to forgive Keir Starmer for whatever it is you think he has done. The man has committed to boosting the country’s security, and what could be more secure than a Prime Minister who has permanently deadbolted himself inside his office? It is time we recognized this stubbornness for what it is: the hallmark of a leader who knows exactly what is best for us, even if he cannot currently articulate it, fund it, or convince anyone to vote for it.