Pull-the-rug-politics

Since Labour reclaimed power last summer, the Chancellor, Rachel Reeves, has borne the brunt of much of the criticism directed towards the government. The decisions to scrap winter fuel payments and inheritance tax exemptions on farms struck deep; this was an electorate unprepared for such change and a media that underestimated the UK’s first female occupant of the role being so combative right from the onset. 

This front-footedness prompted a swift response. Hacks bayed for her blood and have not stopped since. Of course, the assumption that a woman would not dare to enact such radicalness and would simply be a placid place-holder was underscored by a misogynistic reflexion; the nicknaming of ‘Rachel from Accounts’ is deeply spiteful. 

The hostile attitude towards the chancellor reared its head most aggressively in the run-up to and aftermath of the recent Budget – the big fiscal event of the year. Its protracted nature – this was the latest the budget had ever been held in a year – was mind-numbingly tedious. Reeves held a press conference rolling the pitch to raise income tax, only to not go through with it, while endlessly briefing out countless potential tax raises to gauge public opinion. It was painful; an infliction of endless speculation and intellectual ruminating on who will be punished and who will be spared. 

The oxygen the budget takes up in the political discussion is extensive. It’s sapping attention from other areas is detrimental. It swallows up anything around it. After the long summer nights, we did not have a diverse range of coverage on different policy announcements: the UK and India announced a major bilateral cooperation on defence, AI and other technologies or the Renters’ Rights Act receiving a royal assent, a seismic shift in the power dynamics between renters and landlords. This stuff was covered, yet ultimately, all analysis was only viewed through the prism of what it meant for the budget. 

Our inability to give important policy decisions significant credence as standalone events is a byproduct of politics becoming increasingly binary, a dual focus on immigration and the economy. Housing, health, education, the environment, prisons, welfare, and pensions are mentioned and covered but rarely without the adlib of their relationship to those two main issues. 

Take the Health Secretary, Wes Streeting, who several weeks ago made headlines for supposedly plotting to remove the Prime Minister. The Blairites' favourite son has, supposedly, done a good job in his role. He berates striking doctors on the radio for forever wanting more cash, waiting lists have been reduced and the NHS does not seem to battle existentialism on a week-to-week basis as under previous governments. Why then does no one care about this? The only time Streeting can cut through is not on policy, but Downing Street shenanigans. 

Streeting’s exploits in the role not gaining traction is a byproduct of the now-rigid framing of politics. Manifesting itself in the attention economy, becoming the anger economy. 

Politicians and the media do not care about holding your interest, rather harbouring your dissatisfaction. Economy and immigration are blood pressure raisers, grinding teeth, and clenched-fist issues. The discourse's saturation means that competing for the most eyeballs is futile; whipping up a handful of stakeholders into a frenzy is far more beneficial in the long term. Relevance to the current political eco-system now trumps importance when it comes to output.

The country used to talk about Michael Gove changing education policy for weeks on end or climate policies as salient, stand-alone topics and not sticks to bash economic mismanagement with. The ever-growing encroachment of the political fringes has coincided with migration joining the economy as the focus of all attention. Supposedly, easily identifiable problems that can be met with simple solutions. The centre still attempts to champion its position of fiscal credibility and migration being a net positive; they are fighting a losing battle. Politics solely being played on these fields aids charlatanic figures, who are only concerned with a race to the bottom. 

This dynamic explains why Nigel Farage struggles to establish economic competence. His inherent Thatcherism stops him from drifting too far left on economics, where the current debate seems to drift. If he were to be victorious in 2029, he would operate a state where huge macro decisions require introspection, sober analysis and solutions administered through prudence and co-operation - his populist, brash rhetoric that tries to battle against underlying market forces, would diminish any authority. You cannot rail against the establishment when you are a part of the establishment. 

The Green leader, Zack Polanski’s, detachment from parliament and the country’s standard economic prerequisites allows for far greater flexibility and less accountability in his elucidations. He poo-poohs every decision that Labour takes, despite its realistic grounding. Remove the two-child benefit cap? Well done, why did it take so long, and was this really driven by a fervent desire to eliminate child poverty or to appease disgruntled backbenchers? The new ‘mansion tax’? How is this going to alleviate wealth inequality? 400 M raised is a pittance in treasury terms; why not reform the archaic council tax system to have something fairer and more capital raising?

Pulling the rug from Labour’s economic decisions leaves them flailing. For all the centre’s intellectual heft and moderate tendencies, it must appease a softness on both sides, but it can only go so far. This stretching has been showcased on the migration issue. Starmer’s ‘Island of Strangers’ speech was a stark moment for its brazen hostility towards multiculturalism from a moderate figure. Despite admitting he later regretted the speech, his recent cabinet reshuffling to move a Blue Labour acolyte in Shabaana Mahmood, to the position of Home Secretary demonstrated the issues' perennially growing prescience. 

Mahmood has espoused a staunch hardline on migration: Refugee status will no longer automatically lead to a long-term settlement, and those arriving unlawfully face waits of up to 20 years before qualifying for indefinite leave to remain. Her tough line garnered respect from various factions; those on the left feel differently, her net popularity rating amongst Labour members dropped 32 points after the announcement. Migration having such wall-to-wall coverage plays into Farage’s hand. Mahmood’s proposals are the most radical for a generation and would’ve been unthinkable for a Tory party to enact a decade ago, let alone Labour, yet it will never be enough. Reform have offered patronising praise for the action: well done, you’re starting to get it, still not nearly far enough though, is it?

As Polanski upends the fiscal platform Labour attempts to stand on, Farage does the same to the migration debate. They both lead the two most popular parties in the country, moulding and shaping our political conversation so it can be played on their terms. The media shuffle into line in accordance, forever interested in backing a winning horse. 

Whatever reasonable points these figures may make, they are not focused on substance - of how one gets from A to B, or how the state should tackle the defining questions of our age on housing, social mobility or Ai. What we hear is only shrill and consistent self-adulation on the two topics aforementioned. It is a pitiful and fundamentally unworkable situation. Approaching politics in a way that is only about exposing the other side's weaknesses and dragging them to a fundamentalist position is not the way out of the malaise. The centre should stop deferring to the notion this is how modern politics is conducted. Unserious actors can be muted through seriousness taking centre stage: setting the terms of the debate, prioritising all aspects of the state's realm and advancing the solutions they believe. Incrementalism can be a success, but it requires a voice in all areas of policy. Without one, you become anaemic, rolling over and being dictated to.  

Image: Flickr/HM Treasury (Kirsty O'Connor)

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