It is easy to think from the outside of the United Kingdom that the country is beset by a permacrisis; one largely thanks to a beleaguered and incompetent Conservative Party. I am sympathetic to the disposition: from the worst of the Brexit years; to partygate during the pandemic; and now the election betting scandal, Westminster appears a scurrilous place, in urgent need of course correcting. I am entirely unsympathetic, however, to narratives of Britain as a country in total collapse or disarray, notions that it is irreparably damaged, and somehow more foolish and in more peril than its European colleagues.
But of course this is a well-spun yarn. “The United Kingdom is broken…” reads just one among many similar headlines in these pages. “Britain has lost itself” the New York Times declares in 2021, before issuing another cautionary headline about Britain’s tale of “Self-Destruction” in 2023. Le Monde published a dispatch from the election over the weekend: “On the road in a broken nation.” Der Spiegel joins in, proclaiming Britain’s crisis state in 2023. This list is far from exhaustive.
Parts of Britain do not work at the moment: the National Health Service needs total re-imagining; public services are noticeably poorer than they were a year or two ago (if I start my screed about the delays on the underground I fear I will never stop); trust in politicians is the lowest it has ever been (though this is not a phenomenon unique to Britain); the Civil Service is sluggish and bloated; and though inflation has reverted to its 2 per cent target, the cost of living crisis is acute and will not abate fast.
That is a bleak picture. But there are some mitigating circumstances. The war in Ukraine might have revealed a country too reliant on foreign energy markets to maintain much semblance of economic resilience; and the pandemic may have saddled the economy and social fabric with heaps of baggage. But these were external shock factors, both – at least at the beginning – out of the control of the Conservative government and generationally weird events.
I could live with celebrity politicians if they were all like Jeremy Clarkson
Ireland needs its own Joe Rogan, someone to question liberal orthodoxies
Young, aggrieved men may not have won the election for Trump, but he knows how to speak to them
We’re meant to bask in Saoirse Ronan’s feminist triumph, but I find it all a bit nauseating
But Britain’s domestic woes are no unexpected by-product of a country with the same government for 14 years. It is natural that parties begin to fray at the seams. And amid all of these tales of crisis and self-destruction we shouldn’t forget that the country is coasting into electing a fresh government, left-of-centre, replete with apparently sane if uninspiring leaders. Meanwhile, as France faces a battle for the soul of the body politic; and as the AfD (too right wing even for Marine le Pen) becomes the biggest party of the youth in Germany; and as Orban maintains his grip on Hungary and as the radical left makes overtures in Spain, Britain seems to be not so much in crisis at all.
The point is that there are scandals – partygate, the betting scandal – which are fun to watch but don’t mean much. And there are crises – the NHS, the cost of living, the crumbling public services – that are serious but not existential and not unresolvable. And then there is the system: in Britain that is first past the post, essentially a two-party system, that transfers powers peacefully and usually in slow cycles. One that keeps radicals at the gates – neither Farage nor Corbyn got the keys to Number 10 – and the politics largely cohering around the centre. In Britain the structure entrenches stability, no matter the scandal and crises that swirl around it.
Cast our minds back to 1997. Britain had had enough of Major, who was damaged by the sterling crisis and a series of minor scandals. The country opened up to Blair’s new vision (though the headiness of these days has largely been overstated by the romance afforded by hindsight) and welcomed Cool Britannia. That worked for a long time, until it didn’t. And then external events – the financial crisis, for one – saw the support for the party wilt and the electorate itch for change. And that’s what they voted for: a Conservative Liberal Democrat coalition, which after five years turned into a Conservative majority. This is the rhythm of things.
Of course there are plenty of good cases to be made for electoral reform in the United Kingdom. Does, as may happen in this election, a 400-plus majority make sense for a party that may well receive below 40 per cent of the vote? Maybe not. Should a party like Reform or even UKIP (who received 3.8 million votes in 2015 but only returned one seat) not fairly agitate for a system that better reflects popular sentiment across the country? Their case is a reasonable one – no matter how much you may find their politics distasteful. Arguing for a voting system that reflects a vision of democracy means arguing for it even when it rewards those you find deplorable.
But stability is encoded into the DNA of the country. And with a system like that the lamentations of onlookers about Broken Britain, total crisis and irreversible damage appear rather hollow indeed.