Gareth Roberts

Keir Starmer, spooked by Andy Burnham, apparently wants to leave a legacy, in much the same way that a herd of buffalo, scenting a lion, leave a legacy on the prairie. The Prime Minister has settled on banning children from social media, and possibly also installing some yet-to-be-invented software that will prevent under-16s from viewing porn or taking and sending photos of their naked bodies. Childrens’s Commissioner Rachel de Souza has further mooted extending these provisions to include 16 and 17-year-olds. Labour is planning to give 16-year-olds the vote, while simultaneously forbidding them to scroll through Instagram So, Labour is planning to give 16-year-olds the vote, while simultaneously forbidding them to scroll through Instagram.

Let's leave aside for one moment Nicola Sturgeon’s claim of ingenuous innocence in the matter of her husband Peter Murrell’s splurging sprees – because apparently this savvy, forensically-minded stickler of a woman, the foremost politician of our age, is a ditzy scatterbrain on this one issue alone. There is a particular item on the long shopping list sticks out. This, for once, was not a luxury item, something that could be hidden from timorous wee Nicola’s view in the secret chamber of that Bluebeard’s Palace in the Glaswegian suburb of Uddingston. Court records revealed that on 7 March 2020, shortly before the first Covid lockdown, Mr Murrell bought 108 ‘luxury’ Andrex toilet rolls at a cost of £55.98.

It’s striking how very swiftly we’ve accepted an event so mightily strange as the Makerfield by-election. After a couple of days of marvelling at the spectacle – a politician aiming to get back into Parliament for the express purpose of unseating his party leader – the media started treating the farrago like a totally normal event, and switched from boggling at the weirdness of it all to doing all the usual by-election stuff. Getting aerated about random polls, digging up the candidates’ salty old tweets, hanging about in pubs chatting to locals, etc. The novelty of the thing has evaporated.

The outcome of the Prime Minister’s make-or-break speech yesterday morning was never really in any doubt, was it? It’s break. Did anybody except Keir Starmer himself think it could possibly win the nation over? He is, after all, one of the weakest of the country’s public speakers, whose attempts at warmth, sincerity and human feeling lack the easy bonhomie of a supermarket self-checkout. Keir’s speech merely reinforced all his bad qualities, reminding us of his unique ability to make our blood boil while simultaneously boring us to tears. Yes, Burnham is more likeable than Keir Starmer, and seems more like a human being – but then, so is Davros In such dire circumstances, it is natural and understandable that Labour would start to think longingly of alternatives.

Reform in No. 10? As the prospect gets more likely, the hand-wringing gets more theatrical. Should Reform somehow form the next government, we are told, Britain will descend into a dystopian ‘far-right’ nightmare of book-burnings, jackboots and midnight raids. Heavy words are thrown about very lightly: fascist, authoritarian, and my new favourite ‘post-democratic’. The real problem is not this name-calling. It is the scale of what Reform would have to do, just to shepherd the country back to its relatively sane status of 1996 This is, of course, nonsense. With Farage as PM, the world will not end. Britain will not become some kind of Fourth Reich.

It is a part of the human lot that we lug about feelings of doubt, regret and guilt. We carry our sins about like suitcases. Well, okay, maybe not quite all of us. Contrary to both scripture and psychology, there are people who struggle under a quite different burden – the sheer moral goodness of their spotless souls. I’m talking, of course, about Labour MPs. The insufferable moral superiority of Labour – and indeed many progressives of all stripes – can be very hard to digest for the vast remainder of flawed humanity. The shining ethical beacon that is Keir Starmer is almost too bright to behold with the mortal eye.

Mind your language! There has recently been another smattering of incidents featuring accusations of inappropriate choice of words, or even just the wrong tone. I think it’s worth taking a closer look at some of these for what they reveal about our hang-ups, the tender areas of our discourse. What makes us wince? What is considered appropriate, and what isn’t? On last week’s Edition podcast, former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams spoke of there being something ‘demonic’ about the current political culture of the US. Secretary of War Pete Hegseth’s ‘rhetoric about the violent obliteration of enemies’ strikes him as ‘diabolical’ – and of course Trump’s recent threat that ‘an entire civilisation will end’ (it didn’t).

When I woke up yesterday morning, almost the first thing I saw was the announcement that Keir Starmer was to address the nation imminently. Despite the seriousness of the situation in the Middle East, I’m afraid my first thought was ‘Nah, we’re all right, don’t put yourself out Keir mate’, although possibly not quite so politely expressed. Because lecternmania – the getting out of that little prime ministerial podium to speak to the people of Britain – has gone too far. I do wish our beloved leaders would stop it.

The enormous fun of Crufts has reminded us that Britain is a nation of dog lovers. Or maybe we’re kidding ourselves? Because policy documents on the Green party website reveal that they are ‘opposed to the wholesale breeding, manipulation and destruction of those animals who are chosen as companions to the human race’. What marvellously grandiose language! The next time I give the cat a treat I shall cackle evilly about choosing it as my companion for wholesale manipulation. The Greens continue: ‘We will introduce measures to regulate the care and conditions for such animals, including a two-tier system of dog-licensing (breeding and non-breeding), licensing of all animal breeders and dog owners.

Reform has topped every national poll for a good long while – benefitting, as the Greens also have and the Lib Dems haven’t (because there are limits), from a combination of public fatigue and disgust with the two old main parties. But there are other new kids on the right-wing block, both fronted by ex-associates of Nigel Farage and former Reformers. We now have Ben Habib’s Advance and Rupert Lowe’s Restore. First things first. These both sound like team names from The Apprentice. And this is fitting, because the kind of spatting, squabbling and blame-throwing that we see in Lord Sugar’s boardroom is now being acted out on the political stage.

As the three-word headline, ‘STARMER BLOCKS BURNHAM’ smashed on to our phone screens on Saturday, I felt I could almost hear the gleeful communal roar across the country; the same kind of Mexican wave of delight that passes through a school canteen when a dinner lady drops a big tray of puddings, a heap of custard and crockery. Labour wars always bring good cheer. In rotten times we have to get our pleasures where we can. In this particular case, any outcome would have been a banter-facilitating outcome. If Starmer had permitted Burnham to stand in the Gorton and Denton by-election, the reaction would have been similar: here we go, here we go, here we go.