Crowning Mayor Burnham is not the answer

In normal times, a by-election held towards the middle of a standard parliamentary term would often be a loss for the party in power. The electorate have had time to see how the land lies, and how effective (or not) that party is, and whether it has kept to its promises. It often functions as a sort of protest. 

Despite gaining a thumping 174-seat majority (thanks to first-past-the-post and Reform splitting the vote: a story for another time), Labour under Sir Keir Starmer won a 33.7% share of the vote, making it the lowest of any governing party on record. It is not a convincing mandate. It is one reason – apart from the stunning incompetence, spite and hypocrisy of Labour Ministers – that people very quickly saw through it all, even those who voted for them.

A familiar narrative outlines what is expected to happen: Sir Keir Starmer is portrayed as the most despised prime minister in history, Andy Burnham is shown as the more “relatable” figure, and the government's main goal is framed as ensuring that “hope” (Labour) wins over the "Other" - "hate” (Reform). While this line of reasoning may sound persuasive at first, but does it really hold together?

First of all, Sir Keir does not deserve hatred per se. He is not an evil person, even by the standards of modern politics, and neither is he particularly selfish. He is just not a decisive or innovative man, and has a tendency to clumsiness. He does seem to take the public for fools, with his “beliefs” shift with the wind and who he speaks to; one might even say he is confused. It is normal for people to make him the focus of their frustrations.

For much of this century, Britain’s principal governing parties (Labour, the Conservatives and, in Scotland, the SNP) have repeatedly failed to confront what is fundamentally amiss in politics. They have instead become fixated on replacing leaders, as though changing the occupant of 10 Downing Street were enough to resolve deep-seated structural and cultural problems. Labour now risks repeating this error if it persuades itself that one more internal coup will achieve what previous upheavals have manifestly not.

Recent political history illustrates the damage such behaviour can cause. Gordon Brown eased out Tony Blair; Boris Johnson got rid of Theresa May; and Johnson himself, despite a substantial electoral mandate, was removed in less than three years. Liz Truss then held office for 49 days, to be followed by Rishi Sunak. By 2024, the electorate had grown exhausted by this revolving door and took its frustration out on the Conservatives - possibly quite rightly. Labour’s majority was conspicuously large relative to its modest share of the vote, as mentioned above, yet, within the rules, it secured a clear mandate to govern. Sir Keir is therefore entitled to assert that mandate and to resist being driven down the same self-destructive path that ultimately ruined the Conservatives.

Many nonetheless doubt Sir Keir's ability to turn matters around, and the putative solution is increasingly encapsulated by Andy Burnham. A reasonably popular mayor of a major conurbation and, some years ago, a middle‑ranking cabinet minister, Burnham is now treated in some quarters as Labour’s natural heir apparent and by others as akin to the Messiah. Yet the enthusiasm surrounding him is remarkably thin once examined closely. He has not articulated serious or comprehensive responses to the principal issues of our time: large‑scale immigration with a welfare system that too often entrenches dependence; the rise of identity politics; an over‑extended and heavily indebted state (which managed to borrow £23.3 billion in May, significantly higher than the OBR forecast of £17.7 billion) and the challenges of defence, national security amid an increasingly unstable international order.

Were Mayor Burnham to become prime minister, he would almost certainly enjoy an initial phase of public goodwill, particularly when contrasted with Starmer’s perceived dour and technocratic style. The concern, however, is that such support would prove shallow. He risks resembling the crops of the Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13) - quick to spring up on rocky ground, but lacking the roots to withstand the heat. By early 2027, it is not difficult to imagine yet another social‑media‑driven campaign to depose yet another leader.

Mayor Burnham’s clearest political mission is one he shares with Starmer and much of the Labour front bench. They all want to see off Nigel Farage. This sits very comfortably with Labour’s self‑conception, for it allows the party to cast itself as inherently virtuous while attaching the label “far right” to a wide array of opponents. Following Thursday's Makerfield result, his supporters will argue that he has demonstrated his credentials as the pre‑eminent standard‑bearer in this struggle and should therefore be elevated to the leadership.

A coronation of this kind is precisely what Labour should avoid. Installing Mayor Burnham as leader without a genuine contest would repeat the mistake made with Gordon Brown: the difficult questions that ought to be tested in a leadership campaign would go unasked and unanswered. Such contests function, in effect, as a form of due diligence: they expose otherwise hidden weaknesses and risks. Selecting a prime minister between general elections, without that level of scrutiny, encourages parties to place their own interests above those of the country. Voters readily recognise this, and when they finally have the opportunity to express themselves at the ballot box, they tend to respond accordingly.

Sir Keir would therefore be performing a public service by declining to step aside quietly in the event of a Burnham challenge. A properly contested leadership election, with more than one serious candidate, would subject the contenders to necessary examination and help to sustain the stature of the office. A walkover, by contrast, would further weaken the premiership and deepen public cynicism.

Nor is Labour’s reading of the next general election as straightforward as some suppose. Reform may already be approaching the limits of its support. If Reform seeks to appear more respectable, it risks ceding ground to more radical groupings such as Restore. If it moves in the opposite direction and becomes more extreme, many voters will retreat to the established parties. As the party in government, Labour will be held chiefly responsible for whatever difficulties beset the country at that point, making it likely that the Conservatives will benefit most from any further radicalisation of Reform. In any event, Reform has yet to demonstrate that it possesses the institutional seriousness or capacity required to govern.

British conservatism with a small ‘c’ embodies a preference for legitimacy, a wariness of those who shout the loudest, and an awareness that Britain still has much to lose. People resent public spending reductions when these affect them directly, but they also fear governments that allow public finances to spin out of control, thereby eroding savings, pensions and other assets through inflation and ever higher taxation.

The lesson for Labour is stark. If it succumbs to the temptation of another internal coup and an untested coronation of Andy Burnham, it will repeat precisely the mistakes that have already alienated so many voters: prioritising internal manoeuvring over substantive debate, personality over policy, and short-term calculation over long-term responsibility. A party that genuinely aspires to govern well must resist the lure of easy, personalised solutions and confront, openly and rigorously, the difficult questions it has preferred to evade for far too long.