This weekend will prompt significant inquiries regarding how the Labour Party’s fortunes deteriorated so quickly, the timing of Keir Starmer’s departure, and who might succeed him. However, one lesson will be clear: it is unwise to place your trust in leaders who continuously claim to be mature and responsible.
Reflect back to 2024, when Starmer’s administration first took office. “The adults are back in the room,” proclaimed Darren Jones as Labour celebrated its victory in Downing Street. By significantly scaling back the party’s most ambitious promises, including the Green New Deal and securonomics, the primary qualifications that Starmer and his associates brought to leadership were not rooted in policy but rather in a general sense of professionalism. After years of internal conflict and a succession of ineffective leaders, Labour’s strategy was simply to appear serious and competent.
“Stability is change,” Starmer famously asserted, a statement that seemed to impress commentators despite its dubious nature. Andrew Marr encapsulated the prevailing sentiment: “For the first time in many of our lives, Britain appears to be a haven of peace and stability.”
Fast forward less than two years, and Starmer’s team anticipates that the upcoming elections will yield disastrous results for Labour. Should Labour MPs act on their threats to oust their leader, the UK will have seen more prime ministers replaced in a decade than Italy has. This situation may serve as a cautionary tale about the dangers of entrusting governance to those who claim to be the responsible ones.
In the corridors of Westminster, the term “adult” has become a misleading compliment, often masking ideological biases rather than serving as a true measure of character. Political maturity, as defined in this context, involves avoiding discussions about social injustice and not challenging the elite. To test this notion, consider stating in front of a mirror that you are “pro-business and pro-worker.” If you can do so without recognizing the inherent contradiction, congratulations! You may just qualify as a prime minister.
The phrase “grownup politics” serves as a veiled criticism of those outside the establishment. Jeremy Corbyn, despite being in his seventies, is often labeled politically immature, while figures like Peter Mandelson epitomize the “adult” archetype within the political elite—regardless of the consequences of their tenure.
Such terminology gains prominence particularly when political legitimacy begins to falter. When leaders fail to justify their actions, they often resort to invoking the need for “grownups” in charge.
During the European debt crisis, Christine Lagarde, then head of the International Monetary Fund, sought discussions with “adults in the room,” dismissing the more outspoken Greek economist Yanis Varoufakis, who challenged the narratives underpinning the bailout. Similarly, when Donald Trump took office in 2017, the media praised military and corporate leaders like James Mattis and Rex Tillerson as “adults,” implying they would restrain his more erratic tendencies.
Amidst a backdrop of a historic banking crisis, Brexit, and a devastating pandemic, there remains a pressing need to reassess the dynamics between government, the market, and the public. Keir Starmer once articulated a vision for such a reexamination, advocating for a contemporary equivalent of the transformative policies of 1945. However, that vision has long been abandoned in favor of a narrative focused on proving their maturity. After 14 years of mismanagement, the UK now finds itself with a Labour prime minister who resorts to uninspired slogans like, “We are now entering phase two of the government, focusing on delivery, delivery, delivery.”
This weekend, analysts will likely lament Starmer’s lack of a coherent vision for governance. Yet, they often overlook that his political success was predicated on the absence of a strong vision. His very detachment from political ideology allowed him to be perceived as a non-threatening “grownup” by right-leaning media.
In this framework, leaders are seen as adults while voters are treated like children, constantly needing explanations for why their desires cannot be fulfilled—be it for a nurse’s pay rise or prioritizing fiscal constraints over future generations. The breakdown of the traditional two-party system, evident even in the 2024 elections, signals a growing discontent among the electorate with the status quo.
Labour ministers acknowledge that parties like Reform, the Greens, and nationalists are siphoning off their votes by articulating the widely felt sentiment that the system is failing and identifying those responsible for it. “We don’t even have that,” they confide to reporters.
The challenge facing the governing party is that its entire agenda—its manifesto, its goals, and its benchmarks—was based on the assumption that the system would function effectively. They anticipated an influx of foreign investment, a robust economy, and a state apparatus capable of rising to the challenges presented by Brexit and the pandemic. None of these expectations materialized, leaving Westminster’s leaders scrambling for a scapegoat. This weekend, Starmer is likely to bear that blame.
Whoever assumes the role of prime minister next will not be able to promise a continuation of the status quo. However, their options will be severely constrained due to Labour’s narrow mandate. Any grand proposals put forth by allies of figures like Andy Burnham will encounter resistance, as they lack electoral endorsement. The first line of attack from opponents such as Nigel Farage and Kemi Badenoch will highlight that Burnham was not even elected as an MP in July 2024.
