Starmer only has himself to blame, writes James Hanson

When he led Labour to a landslide victory at the general election in July 2024, who could have predicted that, less than two years later, he would be announcing his resignation? Even in this era of unprecedented political churn, in which Downing Street would be better suited to a revolving door instead of its iconic black frontage, his premiership has been remarkably brief. If Starmer is looking for someone to blame for his political demise, he needs only a mirror.

The problem with this Prime Minister is that he fundamentally misdiagnosed the public mood. When he arrived in office, he promised to “end the era of noisy performance” and to lead a government that would “tread more lightly on your lives”.

They were noble sentiments, but completely out of step with what voters yearned for. While no one wanted more of the chaos that characterised the final years of the Tories’ time in office, Britain needed a brave and bold government, not a calm and cautious one.

The country didn’t want a manager, it wanted a leader. It didn’t simply want competent administration, it wanted radical change. Starmer is an intelligent man, but he never grasped this basic truth. What makes it all the more baffling is the extraordinary opportunity presented to him. By winning a 174-seat majority, Starmer was in an all-too-rare position for Prime Ministers: he had both the numbers and the political capital to drive through lasting change.

And yet the policies he brought forward were remarkably timid. For much of Labour’s first year in office, when asked to cite the government’s biggest achievements, ministers would hail the expansion of school breakfast clubs. Many will consider it a worthwhile policy, but it’s depressingly trivial compared to the radical changes required. Even the paltry reforms Starmer did propose were often watered down or abandoned out of political cowardice. For example, modest cuts to the welfare budget were scrapped amid backbench dissent.

Even more staggering was Starmer’s willingness to squander his political capital on enormously unpopular policies that had little discernible benefit. Limiting winter fuel payments was forecast to save just £1.4bn, a drop in the ocean compared to most government budgets, and yet, to this day, it’s still brought up by angry voters in focus groups. The proposed changes to inheritance tax for farmers were forecast to save just £500m, and yet they united the entirety of rural Britain in opposition.

There’s nothing wrong with risking unpopularity. In fact, it’s a prerequisite of strong leadership, but it was politically idiotic to risk it on such incremental changes. Starmer could have spent his political capital on finally scrapping the triple lock. He could have ripped up Britain’s byzantine planning laws and committed to serious investment in growth-generating infrastructure projects. Or he could have touched the third rail of British politics and proposed long-overdue reforms to adult social care and its funding. And yet anytime changes were announced, they were notable only in how underwhelming they were.

Wes Streeting summed it up best when he resigned as Health Secretary last month, saying “where we need vision we have a vacuum”, “where we need direction, we have drift” and that the times “require a bold vision and bigger solutions than we are offering”. What made Starmer’s timidity even more puzzling was that, when it came to party management, he could be remarkably ruthless. From kicking out Jeremy Corbyn to his willingness to dispatch even his closest allies, he could be utterly remorseless when dealing with colleagues. So why was he so unwilling to show similar resolve when it came to policy?

Perhaps Starmer’s fundamental flaw was that he simply didn’t recognise the scale of the UK’s problems. It is undeniable that most voters believe that something has gone very seriously wrong with this country. Living standards have been continuously squeezed ever since the financial crash of 2008, immigration remains far higher than levels the country ever consented to, and large chunks of the public realm are literally crumbling, from prison estates to classrooms.

And yet, possibly because Starmer’s professional life, up to his entering Downing Street, was so successful, he failed to understand such sentiment. How could a country that allowed the son of a toolmaker to ascend to being Director of Public Prosecutions, a King’s Counsel, a knight of the realm, and First Lord of the Treasury possibly be broken? Maybe he simply failed to realise his life story had been the exception, not the rule.

For most of his career, Sir Keir Starmer has been a winner. But his time in Number 10 has been one long, unmitigated failure. He may not be our worst Prime Minister ever, but he is certainly near the bottom of the list. And never before has there been a PM who has squandered such a rare political opportunity so quickly. It really didn’t have to end this way, and for that Starmer only has himself to blame.

____________________

Listen to James Hanson on LBC on weekends between 4 and 7am.

LBC Opinion provides a platform for diverse opinions on current affairs and matters of public interest.

The views expressed are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official LBC position.

To contact us email opinion@lbc.co.uk