There is nothing like conference to focus the minds of a governing party. The leading players have speeches to make, and must explain what they are doing and why. And so Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves find themselves in the curious position of stressing that economic gloom is not an end in itself. It would be uniquely perverse to pursue such an objective. “We are planning for misery” is a slogan that would not endure for very long.
Their need to state the obvious – that they seek sunnier uplands – is partly due to previous failures of communication. Starmer and Reeves should be explaining not only what they are doing, but also why, most days of the year. The “why” question is the most important, and evidently the answer is not that they want us all to be gloomy for the next 10 years.
But what is their chosen route to brighter days? Starmer and Reeves seek to blame the Tories for the mess they face. They do so relentlessly and with justification. Yet while they attack the Tories, they also risk appearing to offer an endorsement of their opponents’ economic approach – the one that brought about their dire inheritance.
In her July statement, Reeves repeated several times: “If we cannot afford it, we cannot do it.” The refrain was an echo of Margaret Thatcher’s homily that sought to justify her early monetarist experiment. Her father’s shop never spent more than it earned and she argued a government cannot spend more than it earns. However, a shop is not a state. Fast-forward to 2024: who decides whether “we cannot afford it”? Many senior economists argue we cannot afford not to invest.
At the most recent prime minister’s questions, Starmer adopted the same stance as Reeves, looking back with implicit admiration to the Cameron/Osborne era of turbocharged Thatcherism. “I remember the days when the Conservative party was concerned with balancing the books,” he proclaimed to Rishi Sunak, while blaming austerity for the nightmarish inheritance. Meanwhile, ministers attack the last government for overspending while others despair of the lack of resources. Is the cause of their current bleak context overspending, or a failure to spend enough? If the diagnosis is confused, the cure is bound to be even less clear.
In the short term, the orthodox “balance the books” Treasury approach leads to a degree of paralysis within government. Frustrated ministers note privately that poor public services end up costing more money over time, but most “change” implies some spending, at least in the short term. Yet since the election, the focus has been on more cuts.
In a mindset where things need to get worse, the winter fuel allowance suddenly became a targeted benefit. The “why” question was not addressed beyond “we didn’t want to do it … blame the Tories”. That is not enough. A politically thought-through approach begins with making a case for more specific targeting of benefits as part of a larger and more general argument. The case must be made before announcing a specific policy. There is also a near-constitutional requirement to make sure the godlike financial guru Martin Lewis is on board.
There are many individual policies being hailed in Liverpool. The Rwanda plan was scrapped on day one and represents a wider radical verve. I suspect Tony Blair would have declared on Rwanda “we’re at our best when at our boldest … we’ll have a six-month review”. Indeed, I recall a senior minister telling me amid the early New Labour honeymoon: “We’ve hit the ground reviewing.” But Blair and Brown, in their different ways, were political teachers, constantly conveying a sense of radical purpose even if caution and chaos could sometimes be detected behind the scenes.
The need to communicate purpose now is even more urgent than it was in 1997. There are competing visions of “change”, the favourite imprecise and apolitical term of Starmer’s team. Reform want change. The Greens want change. The Lib Dems seek specific change in relation to policy areas such as social care. Similarly, everyone supports “reform”. Jeremy Corbyn argues for sweeping NHS reforms. So does the right of the Conservative party. “Change” and “reform” do not answer the “why” question without more precision as to what these terms mean.
When a government’s overall purpose is unclear, stories about sleaze and internal tensions become more prominent. They fill a gap. I can see why Starmer and others accepted the offer of free smart clothes in advance of the election. Other leaders have made similar arrangements in the past. But the obvious temptation makes it even more necessary to ask constantly how any act will be perceived, not least by rightwing papers that influence the stance taken by some at the BBC. The media landscape will not change.
As ever, a politician will be judged on how they handle these challenges. The briefings against Sue Gray are in effect stories against Starmer. He appointed her. He needs to address this assault on his judgment, or the self-indulgent indiscipline of angry advisers and civil servants will feed on itself and get much worse.
Starmer is fortunate. He has the rare commodity of political space. The Tories have left the political stage and could be away for some time. In order to make the most of the space, he needs to be wholly sure of the answers to the “why” questions himself, before explaining them to the rest of us.
Steve Richards’ latest book, Turning Points, is now available in paperback
