When Labour was in opposition, but looking very likely to be the next government, some intrepid explorers gathered together all the food and water they could carry and set off in search of Starmerism. Those hardy souls who made it back from the quest invariably reported that, if such a thing existed, they had not managed to locate it. This came as no surprise to elements of both left and right who always maintained that the Labour leader’s animating philosophy was a terra incognita because he stood for nothing. “Keir doesn’t really have any politics,” some of his close colleagues would whisper to me over a lunch table or a cup of tea, saying this in a disapproving tone of voice. That critique persisted through the election campaign, during which the most frequent complaint about the Labour leader was that he was impossible to pin down.
Well, you can call off the search parties now. This is turning out to be a very political government led by a very political prime minister accompanied by a very political cabinet. Sir Keir is still confusing people somewhat by declaring that he leads “a government unburdened by doctrine”, but the ideological contours of the new order are already coming into focus.
If you want to get a handle on Starmerism, don’t spend too much time listening to what ministers say and concentrate on what they want to do. Take a look at the first Labour king’s speech since it was led by Clement Attlee. Just because this was a highly public affair doesn’t mean it wasn’t also a revealing one. With 40 servings of intended legislation, one of the chunkiest menus presented by a government in modern times, it ran the risk of being a themeless mess. Yet it heralded several striking and radical departures from what came before.
First, it conveyed a view of capitalism that accepts the free market but not the free-for-all version of it. The prime minister and his chancellor are heavily relying on what Keynes called “the animal spirits” of enterprise to help them drive up economic growth, without which they are going to find it hard to achieve their other ambitions. What Starmerism recoils from, and seeks to correct, is market failure. Interventions in areas where capitalist models haven’t worked is evident both in the nationalisation of the rail network as operator franchises expire and the most serious challenge to the filthy practices of the water companies since their privatisation in 1989. A belief that the market does not provide all the answers explains using state funds to capitalise GB Energy, Ed Miliband’s pride and joy, and the national wealth fund, one of Rachel Reeves’s shop-window items. The idea is that they will pump-prime private sector investment in renewable energy, decarbonisation and other large infrastructure projects. This isn’t socialism. It is using the power of the state to try to galvanise a more productive capitalism.
Laws to create a football regulator and protect tenants tell us that Starmerism is interventionist. It is also unabashedly “workerist”. After a long period when employment rights have been eroded and restraints on trade union activities tightened in the name of ultra-flexible labour markets, that trend will be significantly reversed. The “new deal for working people” represents the biggest enhancement of employment protections in a generation. The rightwing media is frothy about this, but it is notable that business has been relatively muted.
Planning is good. This is an article of faith of Starmerism and one of its starkest ruptures with the belief systems of the Tory years. Industrial strategy was a dirty phrase, even a forbidden one, under Conservative prime ministers. This one will have an Industrial Strategy Council along with a clutch of delivery boards charged with driving the government’s key objectives. Whether you think this a recipe for success or doomed to fail, it is unarguably a decisive break with the recent past. There is also what seems to be a genuine commitment to try to spread the benefits of prosperity across the whole country, rather than just provide a sugar rush to London and the south of England. These aspects of Starmerism have antecedents in previous iterations of British social democracy with rather more in common with what Harold Wilson attempted in the 1960s than with the governments of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown. New Labour discovered industrial strategy too late to make much of a difference.
Starmerism also seems to have a meaningful interest in spreading power more evenly across the kingdom. The 18-year Conservative period from 1979 to 1997 left the UK the most centralised state in western Europe. That was only partially ameliorated when the Blair government established the Scottish parliament, the Welsh Senedd and, after a lot of false starts, the power-sharing assembly in Northern Ireland. The mayor of London, a New Labour creation, was followed after 2010 by the introduction of metro mayors in other conurbations in the English regions. The big hole – as much complained about by Tory mayors as by Labour ones – was to leave them underpowered and underfinanced. So they are excited by the Starmer government’s promises to give them more say over transport, skills and other areas. The outstanding question is money. Local authority leaders rightly complained about the Tory “begging bowl” regime that obliged them to bid for a share of pots of cash controlled from Whitehall. The defining test of the sincerity of the commitment to release power from the centre will be the extent to which regional and local government is properly funded and liberated to spend as they think best for their communities.
One thing is already clear. The Starmer government is not at all libertarian. It is reviving the legislation to phase in a total smoking ban by progressively ratcheting up the legal age limit on the purchase of cigarettes and other nicotine products. The government will also use legislative hammers to crack down on high-caffeine energy drinks, junk food advertising, and the flavouring and marketing of vapes in ways that entice children. Those who don’t like curbs on personal freedoms will complain about “the nanny state”. Those who think the state has obligations to cajole its citizens to be healthier will say that sometimes “nanny knows best”.
There are areas in which the Starmer government appears prepared to be tough and dirigiste in the pursuit of its most critical goals. To “get Britain building”, new laws will arm the government with the power to “bulldoze”, the aggressive verb used by Sir Keir, through local opposition to building new homes and nationally important infrastructure. This will create enemies and trigger angry protests. The enmity that will be aroused in parts of the country will become evident before any rewards become manifest.
How governments choose to tax and spend usually plays a large role in how they are defined. More clarity about that awaits Ms Reeves’s first budget and spending review. On the evidence so far, she and her nextdoor neighbour meant it when they said they would impose “iron discipline” on the management of the public finances. I say that not so much because of the Budget Responsibility bill, also known as the Liz Truss Memorial bill. I say that they look as if they intend to be fiscally orthodox because of how the prime minister and chancellor are responding to the row about the two-child cap on benefits inherited from the Tories. The cap is hated by Labour members and MPs. There’s virtually no one in the cabinet who has not previously called it abhorrent. The child poverty taskforce, hastily scrambled together by Number 10 to take the sting out of a threatened revolt this week, will presumably gather evidence from experts. They will tell it that the cap is a major contributor to child poverty. To keep the Labour party happy, the crowd-pleaser would be to concede and bring an immediate end to the cap. Viewed from Number 10 and the Treasury, that would be precisely the wrong thing to do. Not buckling to the first outbreak of backbench pressure is seen as crucial to sustaining their parliamentary authority and credibility with financial markets.
Critical elements of the government’s intentions, especially how it intends to approach public sector reform, remain misty. It is also true that it will be kneaded into shape by events as yet unforeseen and conflicts as yet unfought. These are early days. Even so, no one need set out on any more expeditions to seek after Starmerism. It begins to take form before our eyes.
• Andrew Rawnsley is the Chief Political Commentator of the Observer
