Not so much a party conference. Not even an end of the pier show. More of a funeral wake. At which most of the participants appear to have already died. Four years ago the Tories won an 80-seat majority and looked set to remain in power for another decade. Now they act like the walking dead. Shell-shocked, out of ideas. Desperate to find someone other than themselves to blame for the mess they’ve caused. Desperate to reinvent the unreinventable. To persuade themselves that previous Conservatives weren’t really Conservatives. The story of the one true Tory.
Its reputation precedes it. There are only a brave few – we unhappy few – who have made it to Manchester for the Tory conference. Dead-eyed delegates anxious to be sucked into a collective delusion. If only for a few hours. Anything to shake off the reality. The whole conference hall has had to be reconfigured this year. Normally the main hall is situated at the far end. Now it has been transferred to a much smaller venue, in the annexe where the media used to be camped. There just aren’t the numbers. Anything bigger would merely show up the void.
