Prime Minister Keir Starmer (Image: PA)
The combination of robotic voice and the jargon-infested gobbledygook that came out of his mouth killed his big relaunch stone dead this week.
You campaign in poetry but govern in prose, said the famously silver-tongued former New York governor Mario Cuomo. With it’s more a case of governing via the incomprehensible 48-page instruction manual for a self-assembly wardrobe.
According to the , as part of his “Plan for Change”, he was unveiling three foundations, five missions, six milestones, and “seven pillars of mission-led growth”.
It was like The Twelve Days of Christmas delivered by an adenoidal android fresh back from a management conference that had gone way over its head.
And the reality is that this is failing on every front and descending into the depths of unpopularity faster than any previous election-winning party has ever done before.
How it would have leavened the atmosphere had the PM burst into song and declared: “On the first day of Christmas, the voters sent to me, a 23 per cent rating in a brand new poll,” That score, incidentally, placed Labour not only behind the but also behind
The second day of Christmas should clearly be marked by a demand from us that the PM makes good on his claim that he will bring down both legal and illegal immigration. Just please spare us from any more empty boasts about “smashing the gangs”.
For the third day we really should refer to his three “foundations”, which apparently are economic stability, secure borders and national security. Considering he and have talked and taxed the economy to the brink of recession, while not securing the borders and presiding over a spike in terror plots, let’s count that as a work in progress.
On the fourth day of Christmas the voters should send to him a chiding note about the four free tickets he accepted to a concert in the summer, worth in excess of £4,000 and symbolic of his early freeloading ways.
The fifth day? That’s easy. Five gold rings as per the original song. Only these are the unanswered rings of ex-transport secretary “mislaid” mobile phone. They count as golden because she is reportedly in line for a five-figure pay-off following her resignation from the Cabinet.
Day six and let’s ignore his baffling “milestones” and go instead for six geese no longer laying golden eggs because employer national insurance increases will surely put an end to that kind of useful economic activity.
On day seven let’s send him another terse note, this one asking him why he has just downgraded a promise to turn Britain into the fastest growing by the time of the next election.
Day eight will see him petitioned by eight maids no longer a-milking because the farmers have sacked them all as part of cost-cutting measures designed to raise funds for future inheritance tax bills.
Let’s keep the nine ladies dancing because after all that’s just a standard night out for and her entourage. Ten lords-a-leaping can stay as well given that rumour has it is about to send a load more of his cronies to the Upper House, including several non-entity former MPs who ducked out of safe seats so they could be occupied by favoured young thrusters.
Eleven is easy: pensioners-a-shivering after having their winter fuel allowance axed if they are on incomes much above £11,000 a year. He’d better hope he is out when they come knocking on his door.
And on the twelfth day of Christmas let’s send a warning to that he has 12 months to actually turn his jargon into tangible improvements on the ground, or things will get really moody.
So suspend, for a moment, your disbelief and imagine singing: “A 12-month warning, eleven pensioners shivering, ten lords-a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids not milking, G7 promise broken, six geese not laying, five gold rings! Four freebie tickets, three duff foundations, two migration mentions and a lousy opinion poll.”
That’s more or less the story of how a government went from a landslide victory to clueless ignominy in just a few months.
Alternatively, we could join millions of others in tuning out of politics altogether such is their disgust at the antics of all major parties over recent years. Those folks can’t bear to hear voice at all these days. The only political Christmas carol they could tolerate goes under the name Silent Knight.