Until we remedy that, the Downing Street hinges will need constant WD-40, argues Joe Meighan
When historians look back on this extraordinary era of British politics, they may conclude that the country did not simply change governments after 2016, it changed political reality. Since the referendum, Britain has chewed through prime ministers with astonishing speed. Theresa May fell trying to deliver Brexit. Boris Johnson fell after winning the election that was supposed to “get Brexit done.” Liz Truss detonated herself and much of Britain’s economic credibility in a matter of weeks. Rishi Sunak inherited decline rather than authority. And now Keir Starmer, despite entering office with the promise of stability and competence, has found himself overwhelmed by the same currents that consumed his predecessors.
The personalities differ. The mistakes differ. But the backdrop remains the same.
Brexit did not create every problem Britain faces, but it intensified nearly all of them. Weak growth, stagnant wages, collapsing public confidence, rising political anger, pressure on migration systems, poor trade performance, labour shortages, and the constant sense that the country is somehow in perma-crisis; these are not isolated symptoms appearing by coincidence. They are connected to a political and economic rupture Britain has never properly absorbed.
The great promise of Brexit was control. Instead, Britain often appears less capable of controlling events than at any point in recent modern history.
Trade friction with our largest market has damaged confidence and investment. Businesses have faced barriers that did not previously exist. Growth has remained anaemic while comparable economies have weathered and recovered more effectively from global shocks. Even migration, supposedly one of the defining motivations behind leaving the European Union, rose dramatically in the post-Brexit years, exposing how much of the debate had been built on political fantasy rather than economic reality.
Meanwhile, politics itself became permanently destabilised. Brexit created a culture of permanent ideological warfare in Westminster, where compromise became betrayal and long-term planning became almost impossible. Prime ministers are now treated less like national leaders and more like temporary occupants of the HMS Brexit wheelhouse. Britain has entered an era of prime ministerial Russian roulette.
Simply removing Keir Starmer is unlikely to solve anything fundamental, despite the mistakes his government undoubtedly made. In many ways, Starmer represented an attempt to restore seriousness to British governance. European leaders trust him. Brussels see him as an honest negotiator, someone capable of rebuilding a working relationship after years of chaos and hostility. He understands that Britain’s future prosperity depended upon closer cooperation with Europe, yet has remained constrained by self-imposed red lines that Labour viewed as politically necessary to win back former “red wall” voters. In reality, many of those voters did not return to Labour because of the nuanced position on Europe, but out of exhaustion with, and anger toward, a Conservative government that had spent fourteen years presiding over decline and instability.
Starmer governs under the looming shadow of Nigel Farage and the constant threat of populist backlash. That has made deeper engagement with Europe politically perilous, even when it was economically rational. European partners, too, could never be entirely certain that Britain would stay the course. Why make difficult concessions to a British government that might be replaced by an anti-European administration within a few years?
This is the deeper crisis Britain now faces: not merely economic decline, but the collapse of strategic confidence. Investors lack confidence. Allies lack confidence. The public lacks confidence. And governments themselves increasingly appear unable to govern with authority or durability.
Until Britain confronts the root cause, our abandonment of the European Union and the instability it unleashed, we are unlikely to remedy the symptoms. Changing leaders without addressing the underlying settlement merely repeats the cycle.
That does not necessarily mean politics can simply rewind itself to 2016. It cannot. But it does mean that all serious options may soon have to be open if Britain is to stabilise itself politically and economically. That could include a far deeper conversation about our constitutional settlement, the structure of Westminster government, the concentration of power in Downing Street, or even whether the voting system itself is still fit for purpose in a fragmented political age.
Britain is missing positivity. The main issue is not bad leadership, though there has been some of that, over many years and under several governments. The underlying weakness is that the UK has swapped the relative stability of EU membership - and the economic advantages and geopolitical influence that go with it - for a state of perpetual flux, where promise after promise to voters has been broken and yet where ever more undeliverable promises are being made and will again be broken.
This is the modern British disease - we might call it Brexit-itis - but it is not inevitable or incurable. There is indeed a route back to the heart of Europe but is not the detour into marginal tinkering that has side-tracked the government. The road will be long and hard. Returning to the EU won't solve all our problems and it will need to be accompanied by a coherent programme for domestic change. But we can and must set off on that road.