I’ve come to the conclusion that we now measure national stability by beverage selection.
“Prime Minister, tea or coffee?”
“I think I’ll have tea… actually, coffee.”
BREAKING NEWS: Downing Street in turmoil as PM flip-flops on hot drinks. Senior aides locked in emergency talks. Pound wobbles. Democracy trembles.
You can almost see the banner now: CAFFEINE CRISIS.
The modern political “emergency” often turns out to be a human being thinking aloud. A leader walks six feet from car to door while a flock of journalists jog backwards in front of him.
“Prime Minister, will you resign?”
“Prime Minister, is this the end?”
“Prime Minister, are you clinging on?”
If he says nothing, it’s stonewalling. If he says “No”, it’s defiance. If he says he’s focused on the job, it’s refusal to deny speculation. If he adjusts a policy after consultation, it’s a humiliating U-turn.
Politics used to involve negotiation. Now it involves headline choreography. A minor amendment becomes civil war. A polling dip becomes terminal decline. A shouted question down a pavement becomes evidence of collapse.
I’ll be frank: I’ve largely lost faith in journalists. Not all of them, but the pack behaviour and breathless framing. Every tremor is inflated into an earthquake because drama sells and context doesn’t.
Of course governments wobble. Of course leaders misstep. But there’s a difference between volatility and implosion. The news cycle barely recognises it.
Which brings us to the alleged “crisis”.
Starmer inherited tight fiscal constraints and a very broad political coalition. Labour’s majority was built largely on a shared desire to eject the Conservatives. That creates a broad church. Broad churches win elections, but they are unstable in government. Internal factions and competing priorities mean there is constant pressure to dilute policy. Drift is the default risk.
So beyond fiscal restraint, there is a deliberate positioning tactic.
He sets out reforms slightly beyond the minimum outcome he ultimately needs. That isn’t recklessness. It’s anchoring. In sales you open high knowing negotiation will bring you down. In legal strategy you plead broadly expecting trimming. Politics works the same way. If you want to end at B, you open at C. Pushback from Parliament, the Lords and internal factions is anticipated. If you opened at B, you would likely finish at A.
What critics call a “U turn” is often a controlled landing. The direction of travel remains. The settlement is still further than the old baseline because the overreach was leverage, not the destination.
The first two years aim to push through those structural changes, stabilise credibility and rebuild fiscal headroom. In parallel, he improves relations with the EU through practical friction reduction and regulatory cooperation. That lowers business uncertainty and supports growth at the margins.
If that creates headroom, the second phase follows: more popular, visible policies from year two onwards, funded by the improved position created earlier. Pain first, dividends later.
Mid-term council losses may sting and cause PLP jitters; however, any leadership challenger would face exactly the same structural constraints, so they must hold the line with Starmer.
If opposition parties win councils on bold promises, governing exposes the arithmetic. Over two years that can work to his advantage and is a calculated tactical sacrifice. Current Reform councils are already proving the point.
In reality, given the constraints, there isn’t a credible alternative strategy. The other options are overpromising, overborrowing or deep immediate cuts. All carry greater risk. This approach is slower, but structurally safer.
Meanwhile, somewhere outside No.10, someone is still shouting about tea.
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