Because the vote on the Right was fractured in 2024, Labour secured power under Keir Starmer. It was Starmer’s face on the leaflets, Starmer’s promises in the manifesto and Starmer’s name that Labour activists spent years telling the public was the answer to Britain’s problems.
Two years later, he is being bundled out of Downing Street in humiliation. And what a damning verdict that is on Starmer’s premiership.
After years of telling the public they had assembled the finest Cabinet in modern history, Labour’s conclusion now appears to be that not one of those ministers is capable of leading the country. Not the Chancellor. Not the Deputy Prime Minister. Not the Foreign Secretary. Not a single member of the team that has been running Britain for these last two years. Instead, Labour has effectively had to send for reinforcements from Manchester.
Think about how extraordinary that is. A party with hundreds of MPs, dozens of ministers and one of the largest parliamentary majorities in modern British history has apparently looked around Westminster and concluded that none of its own frontbenchers are fit for purpose. What does that say about the quality of Labour’s government? What does it say about Keir Starmer’s judgement? What does it say about the people currently making decisions on behalf of the British public?
The answer is obvious. It says Starmer’s project has failed. Failed so comprehensively that Labour has decided the only solution is to parachute in a politician who has spent most of the last decade outside national politics.
Yet we are expected to believe this is all perfectly normal. We are expected to pretend there is nothing strange about another Prime Minister being removed, a successor emerging almost overnight and the country being told to accept the change as though it were merely a routine corporate restructuring.
But the most extraordinary part is this: Labour has not even turned to the government it already has. Instead, it has effectively had to parachute in an outsider.
There is something profoundly unhealthy about that. The public has not been asked. The voters have not been consulted. No general election has been called. The British people are simply expected to sit quietly and watch while Westminster rearranges itself once again.
Then there is the question of scrutiny… or rather, the lack of it.
At the very moment Andy Burnham should be facing the toughest questioning of his political career, he appears determined to avoid it. No questions from journalists after his first major speech. No meaningful parliamentary scrutiny until MPs return after the summer recess. No real opportunity for voters to properly interrogate the man who could soon become Prime Minister.
Convenient timing, isn’t it?
A new leader is emerging wrapped in a protective cocoon of political choreography, shielded from scrutiny while advisers, civil servants and Labour strategists carefully manage the transition. That is not how confident leaders behave. Confident leaders welcome questions. Confident leaders defend their ideas. Confident leaders submit themselves to scrutiny. Avoiding questions before you have even reached Number 10 is hardly a reassuring sign of things to come.
And what exactly is Burnham offering that is so radically different?
So far, the answer appears to be more bureaucracy, more constitutional tinkering, more power to the unions, more devolution and more discussion about structures, committees, assemblies and governance models. The political class loves talking about these things because they allow politicians to look busy without actually solving anything.
Meanwhile, the issues ordinary people care about remain stubbornly unresolved. Immigration remains at historically high levels. Illegal Channel crossings continue. Crime remains a concern in many communities. The tax burden sits near post-war highs. Economic growth remains sluggish. Public services remain under pressure.
Yet Labour’s answer appears to be another round of internal political musical chairs.
Perhaps most remarkable of all is that Labour appears genuinely surprised that voters are becoming cynical.
Can you blame them?
People cast their ballots for one Prime Minister and are given another. They are told one programme is working, only to watch its architect pushed out of office. They are repeatedly asked to trust a political system that increasingly appears designed to insulate politicians from the consequences of failure rather than expose them to proper accountability.
The truth is that Andy Burnham’s arrival is not a sign of Labour’s strength. It is evidence of Labour’s weakness and downright panic.
If Starmer had been a success, Burnham would still be Mayor of Manchester. If Labour’s Cabinet inspired confidence, one of its members would be taking over. If Labour MPs truly believed in the government they have spent two years defending, they would not now be desperately searching for a political saviour.
The coronation of Andy Burnham is not a triumph. It is a confession.
A confession that the Starmer experiment has collapsed. A confession that Labour’s much-vaunted team has failed. And a confession that, after all the promises, all the slogans and all the boasts, they still cannot explain why the British people should trust them with another three years in power.
