Madeline Grant

Wantage may seem an unlikely birthplace for England’s greatest gift to the world. Yet as well as being the site of King Alfred’s birth, it gives its name to the legal code of the 990s, in which Aethelred the Unready laid down the right of an Englishman to be tried by a jury.  Fast forward a millennium or so and Lammy the Unavailable seems to be determined to smash that right. Robert Jenrick had asked an urgent question of The Sage of Tottenham, but Lammy couldn’t even be bothered to turn up. ‘Do we need to send out a search party to Savile Row?’ Jenrick asked, referencing a past excuse of Lammy’s. I suspect a local soft play might have been a better bet.

Rachel Reeves has been speaking to the newspapers trying to sell her Budget, which given her communication abilities is a bit like asking King Herod to do your babysitting. The Chancellor of the Exchequer appears to be getting the excuses in early; it’s almost as if she, like everyone else, knows that next week’s announcements will be a catastrophe. The thread that comes through the article is that the country is somehow being punished for the Chancellor’s teenage insecurities Reeves’s big message is that she’s been ‘underestimated all her life’. A humbler person might wonder why everyone has consistently assessed her to be not up to the job rather than assuming that the judgement of everyone ever has been wanting.

One must say this for the Home Secretary, she is a Parliamentary Pugilist. While the general demeanour of the government in which she serves has a Sir Robin the Chickenhearted attitude to parliamentary spats (one can imagine the adenoidal cry of ‘Run Away’ ricocheting around No. 10 every Wednesday), Shabana Mahmood seems to enjoy a fight with all and sundry. Nobody epitomises the arrogance and intellectual expiration of the Labour party better than Stella Creasy She had fun at the despatch box earlier this week, trolling Green MPs into lengthy tantrums. There was unfinished business for the Home Secretary from one particular bout. Step forward Max Wilkinson, the smarmy Lib Dem spokesperson who has the air of a Hare Krishna, radicalised by excessive lentil consumption.

With the country looking forward to Rachel Reeves’s big moment next week – in much the same way you would look forward to root canal treatment or a trepanning – it was no surprise that this week’s PMQs focused on tax and leaks. That the government seems to conduct policy formulation by Chinese Whispers is only half the irritation. The other half is how angry they get when this is pointed out. The Prime Minister acts genuinely hurt when anyone brings up the actual state of the country ‘Every week she comes along and speculates and distorts,’ yelled Sir Keir when Mrs Badenoch dared mention the disastrous Income Tax U-turn of last week. The Prime Minister acts genuinely hurt when anyone brings up the actual state of the country.

It’s not often the Prime Minister gets a derisive laugh from the House of Commons for telling them that he had meetings with ministerial colleagues that morning. However No. 10 making a complete hash of a coup against the PM (or was it actually a pre-emptive coup against the Health Secretary?) meant that once again Sir Keir was in the chamber having to answer questions about the chaos caused by his government outside. The No. 10 debacle is really good stuff The No. 10 debacle is really good stuff. These people can’t even commit governmental suicide properly. This was the Day of Dupes meets Mean Girls, meets the Chuckle Brothers. Of course it’s only the latest in a string of embarrassments this week.

The BBC’s editing scandal has reached the House of Commons. Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy made a statement by the government this evening on the ongoing crisis, which is fortunate given the Starmer administration are known as bywords for probity, competence and even-handedness: ‘Same Teir for Everyone Keir’ as the PM is popularly known. There needed to be ‘firm, swift and transparent action’ from the BBC, according to Nandy. Receiving that advice from this government of all people is a real gut punch. Like being overtaken on the M6 by the Flintstones car. There are Saharan sandbanks which are quicker, swifter and more transparent than HM’s government.

One of the things we ought to consider more in judging politicians is whether they add to the gaiety of the nations. Does Kemi Badenoch? Alas no. Does Ed Davey? He thinks he does but doesn’t. Does Sir Keir Starmer add to the gaiety of nations? Actually, probably best not to answer that. Labour’s front bench are a uniquely humourless lot; generally the cabinet look like the finalists of a lemon-sucking competition. One exception, who brings a sort of high-grade bumbling to everything he does, is David Lammy.