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Starmer: If You Don’t Write The Narrative, It Writes You

The inevitable has happened. On 22nd June, Sir Keir Starmer stepped up to the podium outside No.10 and delivered a speech much of the country had been anticipating for months. Once again, the familiar image of a crestfallen prime minister appeared before the assembled press corps and television cameras. Starmer accepted “with good grace” that Labour MPs no longer wanted him to lead the party into the next general election, continuing Britain's recent revolving door of prime ministers. But why did this become inevitable? And what can the likely Labour successor, the King of the North himself, Andy Burnham, learn from Starmer's failings?


This resignation feels different from the conveyor belt of Conservative prime ministers that followed Brexit. The Conservatives largely imploded through moral decay, internal division and incompetence. The Eton debating club may not have cut the mustard in producing effective leaders, but many of them understood the mechanics of politics all too well. Constant scheming, back-stabbing and placing party interests above government ultimately destroyed them.


Starmer was the opposite. For such a mild-mannered politician, he has attracted a remarkably disproportionate degree of hostility. As recently as May, YouGov placed his net favourability at minus 46, while Ipsos reported some of the lowest satisfaction ratings recorded for a serving prime minister. His fundamental problem was not ideology. It was politics itself. 


Politics is, to a large extent, a communications exercise. Winning often depends upon defining yourself before others define you. Starmer's communications strategy was consistently meek throughout his tenure. Despite his centrist leanings, he led a traditionally left-wing party operating within a hostile media environment. His communications operation therefore needed to be disciplined and proactive. Instead, he frequently allowed others and the right-wing media to shape the public perception of him.


Research and polling suggest this may have been his greatest weakness. Sure, critics can point to policy U-turns and controversial political appointments (looking at you Mandelson), but many voters simply struggled to understand what Starmer stood for. YouGov respondents frequently complained that he lacked a compelling vision, with one voter saying that he "does not seem to stand for anything". In an era of personality politics, this matters. Leaders are political brands as much as politicians. Starmer never successfully established one.


He could have looked across the pond at two very different leaders who nevertheless share a similar communications strategy.


Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum has achieved considerable success through her media engagement. Through the daily presidential press conferences known as mañaneras, she sets the political agenda and communicates directly with the public. Her strong approval ratings (between 69% and 70% as of June 2026) have led some publications, such as The Guardian, to describe her as one of the world's most popular left-wing leaders. By speaking directly to voters, she shapes her own narrative rather than allowing the media to do so. Starmer’s Downing Street, by contrast, often appeared reactive to events and hostile headlines. Its communications operation seemed defensive rather than agenda-setting, responding to the political weather rather than shaping it.


The second example sits at the opposite end of the political spectrum in the White House. Starmer could never have replicated Donald Trump's "flood the zone" media approach, largely due to him being a far less controversial figure, no links to Epstein, no insider trading, no illegal attacks on foreign nations, and the list goes on. However, Trump does demonstrate the value of direct communication. Like Sheinbaum, he speaks to voters daily, often through social media. Major announcements increasingly emerge from his personal platforms before reaching traditional media outlets, such as the recent Iran deal. With it being reported that the president posts on average 20 times a day on his socials, Trump can dictate daily news agendas.


Closer to home, Nigel Farage also understands the importance of political communication. Few members of the British public can avoid him. Significantly, he effectively possesses a dedicated broadcasting platform through GB News. He hosts Farage four nights a week at 7pm, Monday to Thursday, giving him a regular hour of uninterrupted airtime during one of television's most valuable slots. Rather than appearing as a guest subjected to sustained questioning, Farage can set the agenda himself, deliver monologues, and discuss the issues he believes matter most. Although this blatantly flouts Ofcom rules, it allows Farage to set the narrative and effectively convey his brand. 


This is the political environment Labour faces at the next general election. When Burnham inevitably gets the keys to No.10, he faces the task of building and marketing a recognisable political identity to battle Farage. One thing that will help him is that the public seem to think he does already have one. According to Ipsos polling, 42% of respondents think he has “a lot of personality” and “is in touch with ordinary people”. Burnham must build upon this identity and develop a distinct style of political communication. 


Leaders who proactively speak frequently and directly to voters generally have a greater opportunity to define themselves than those who rely primarily on Westminster, journalists or political events to do it for them. Starmer's legacy may be that, in modern politics, if you don’t write the narrative, it writes you.




Image: Flickr/No 10 Downing Street (Simon Dawson)

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