Gareth Roberts

We’re in the middle of an ‘orderly transition’ of power from Keir Starmer to whoever might just possibly take over from him – it’s anybody’s guess – as prime minister. Many were worried that this would leave the government in policy paralysis, unable to commit to anything. If only. It turns out that the hard-won freedoms of the British people are to be ended not by legions of brutes rolling down Regent Street in tanks, but by a gaggle of gormless supply teachers Because both Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy and Deputy Leader Lucy Powell – close allies of Andy Burnham – are confidently mooting new ideas.

Andy Burnham used his big speech this week to unveil his spiffing new idea to solve all the country’s terrible problems: moving its head office somewhere slightly different. This he calls ‘place-based collaboration’. Apparently, all the collaboration we’ve been doing up till now has not been place-based, and has presumably been in a mysterious, spooky void outside the normal realm of space and time. I wish politicians would can this talk of collaboration and playing nicely. If anything, politics should be more confrontational But along the way, he also found time to inform us how he intends to ‘reach out to other political parties, to find as much common ground as we can and build that more collaborative approach.

Whether it’s competition or coronation this summer, expect to hear a lot about ‘Labour values’ before (and after) Andy Burnham becomes prime minister. Labour can’t stop telling us about their wonderful values. ‘When we rally around Labour values together, our movement changes the lives of those who need it most,' Keir Starmer intoned like an adenoidal android during the local election campaign. What exactly are ‘Labour values’? Late-era Starmer could get quite emotional – as far as he was able to – about them, stating, ‘We're on the side of communities across our country,' whatever that means. In his resignation statement, he told us how he’d been ‘building a country where everyone is seen, everyone is valued’.

The BBC has binned its planned Doctor Who Christmas special and put the show ‘out to tender’. This is a face-saving TV industry term for saying you’ve kicked an ailing show into the longest of grass, but don’t want to enrage its most rabid fans. Good luck with that, chaps. Essentially it translates as ‘Somebody please, please take this nightmare off our hands’. It's like one of those Facebook ads you see for a dog that needs rehousing because it barks all night, gnaws on toddlers, and has no control of its bowels, but is a total sweetie, honestly. I’d put Doctor Who on ice for at least a decade If by some bizarre quirk of circumstance I found myself the unwilling owner of the tender, I’d put Doctor Who on ice for at least a decade.

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.