Bregrets, we’ve had a few…

It’s tough to say which of the six ex-PMs of the last ten years was the worst, as each was terrible in his or her own way, but I would nominate David Cameron, for the level of entitled carelessness he displayed in needlessly subjecting the nation to the disaster of Brexit.

A decade on from that fateful day, I still feel visceral anger that my European citizenship was stolen from me by a sorry collection of cynical schemers, who had latched on to the populist campaign without really believing it could actually win. They have, of course, mostly walked away without suffering any adverse consequences, leaving the dispossessed masses who bought into the rhetoric to pay the price for the economic damage that has been done.

Worse though has been the effect on the national psyche; the UK today seems a sadder, meaner, less optimistic country than I can ever remember. It’s little surprise that polls consistently show a clear majority judging our departure from the EU a mistake, and support, especially from the younger generations, for rejoining.

We are where we are though. I’m tempted to say that all we can do is let hope triumph over experience, and trust that our next Prime Minister will finally be one who knows what he is doing, but I’m not quite ready to slide into such a state of passivity, so I’ll see if I can summon the resolve to get involved in some local political activity again. I guess I can’t bemoan the state of the world if I’m not prepared to at least try to do something to make it better.

London’s Burham’s

The country’s standing as a functional polity, already shaky, took another blow today, as Keir Starmer’s resignation marked the seventh time in a decade that the nation has been obliged to contemplate a new Prime Minister. It’s worth noting that only two of the six ex-premiers were dismissed by the electorate; Rishi Sunak directly in a General Election, and David Cameron as a consequence of the Brexit referendum. Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, and now Starmer were all defenestrated by their own MPs, making a mockery of our supposed democratic process.

So now we must, it seems, welcome Andy Burnham, who is offering… well it’s not clear exactly, since his declared platform doesn’t consist of much more than not being Keir Starmer.

I guess I should wait a little longer to see how things play out before I succumb to cynical hopelessness, but it feels like we’ve been around this block several times over the last few years, so it’s hard to retain any optimism…

Making it in Makerfield

Depending on the narrative you prefer to believe, tomorrow will mark either the start of a national renaissance, as PM-in-waiting Andy Burnham takes his first step towards Number 10, or the beginning of yet another spell of political chaos, after the carefully-laid plans of the Westminster elite are disrupted by a victory for the insurgents of Reform.

Informed opinion seems to favour the former scenario, on the grounds that progressive voters are likely to coalesce around Burnham, with the right split between Reform and Restore. It sounds plausible I guess, though “plausible” has hardly been a reliable guide to the political landscape around here in recent years.

My main anxiety stems from the assumption that the presence of Restore on the ballot will hurt Reform; to me it seems equally if not more likely that Farage’s outfit will benefit from a detoxifying effect, as closet racists reassure themselves that at least they’re not supporting the overt Nazis.

Even if the nightmare of a Reform win doesn’t unfold, Burnham’s path to the premiership is hardly obstacle-free, and there isn’t actually a huge amount of evidence that he would be any more up to the job of rectifying the nation’s woes than the current incumbent.

Perhaps I’m being too gloomy; even a small nudge in the direction of social democracy would be welcome in these times, and might be enough to take the wind out of the sails of those forces who want to roll back the hard-won victories of the last century. As ever, when the way ahead seems difficult, it pays to take the long view.

World Cup 2026 prediction

I’ve been out of the country for the last few weeks; not so remote that I was completely unaware of developments at home, alas, but sufficiently distant that the news I did catch didn’t impinge on my sense of wellbeing too much.

I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to maintain that contented detachment now that I’ve returned, but I’ve been trying to ease myself back into the alarming reality of contemporary life by contemplating the possible outcomes of the World Cup.

Of course I can’t be bothered doing the research into the recent form of the 48 teams in the tournament that would be required for any sort of informed forecast for the 72 group stage games, and I don’t really understand how the seeding works for the knockout rounds, so I have no clue when the favourites are likely to meet up.

Nevertheless I’ll confidently go for a last four of France, Spain, Germany and Argentina, and France to win.