Why Eco-Actif went bust: A brief history of UK plc

We keep voting for governments that tell us that private is best, but there's little evidence to support it.

On Friday 13 July, a strange thing happened. Eco-Actif Services, a Community Interest Company which helped find work for the hardest to employ, including ex-prisoners and ex-substance abusers, went bust. It shouldn’t have. At the time, it had £1m worth of advance orders on its books and a turnover of £700,000. So what happened? Well, for the full answer, you have to go back a very long way in time: to about 1979, in fact.

The basic economic aim of Thatcherism can be spelled out in two words: controlling inflation. The exchange rate system which had been set up with the Bretton-Woods agreement had recently collapsed. Government-set exchange rates were unworkable, so it was agreed to let them float. It meant the Thatcher government began to give priority to rooting out inflation rather than welfare and employment, deregulated its financial markets, and - most pertinently to our subject - began privatising whole industries, like gas and electricity. At the same time, it sought to reduce the bill for services it knew the public wanted to remain in public hands.

In 1980 compulsory competitive tendering (CCT) was introduced for construction, maintenance and highways work. In 1982, health authorities used it for support services. A few years later the Conservative Nicholas Ridley MP was the first to argue that councils should concentrate on enabling services rather than providing them. He described a utopian vision of a local council that existed in the Midwest, which met just once a year to award service contracts to private firms. Politics was removed from the equation - education, building, refuse collection - these were merely financial transactions.

Ridley’s ideas, to a small extent, were picked up by the Local Government Act of 1988, which extended CCT to things like garbage removal. A little later, under John Major, “white collar” services would also be contracted out. And Major was the first to use the private finance initiative to finance and operate hospitals, schools and prisons.

New Labour’s politics were supposed to represent a compromise between social democracy and the market orientation of Conservative neo-liberalism. In place of the “free market”, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown recast Britain as a small vessel in a globalised sea, unable to do anything but sail along the unstoppable tide that guided it.

They were upfront about this, in a way that would seem shocking now. In 2003, Blair was asked to comment on the news that the UK insurance company Aviva, which traded as Norwich Union, would “outsource” jobs to India, as part of an axing of a total of 2,350 posts in Britain. He said he was “desperately sorry” for anyone whose job was at risk, but outsourcing jobs abroad was just “the way the world is today”. "We have not tried to pretend to people we can stop what is happening in the global economy," he added.

Outsourcing was just another element of this vision of a corporate-lead world, and now it happened under on a scale previously undreamt of. Like Thatcher and Major, Blair believed some public services could be more efficiently delivered by the private sector, and what’s more, was keen to avoid ending up in hock to public sector unions. So New Labour picked up the Conservatives’ ball and ran with it. “What matters is what works”, said Blair in a 1997 speech.

By 2001 the party’s election manifesto explicitly stated that private or voluntary sector providers should be brought in where public providers were failing to improve, or where they could add value to public services. Major’s Private Finance Initiative was expanded upon, while CCT was replaced with “best value”. Lofty ideals were put forward: outsourcing under New Labour would not be allowed to drive down the wages of workers, nor reduce the quality of work that was carried out.

At the same time, the welfare system was becoming increasingly stretched. The narrative of unstoppable globalisation was still going strong in 2010, when Gordon Brown was interviewed in the final weeks of the 2010 election, and asked why he could do nothing about low wages. He told his interviewer that it was “impossible in a global labour market to control the salaries of people”.

As the journalists Ed Howker and Shiv Malik wrote in their book Jilted Generation: “He was angry. It was the anger of a man who knows his hands are chained, just as his predecessor Tony Blair suggested they would be...he was obviously angry because he’s perfectly aware of the human cost associated with this impotence...[And] when Thatcher, Major, Blair and Brown point to the massive rise in GDP...they’re committing a sinful omission.”

On Monday this week, the scale of this omission was, not for the first time, laid bare, in a news story that barely made the BBC News bulletins. The accountants KPMG announced that one in five British workers is paid less than the amount they need for a basic standard of living. The study reported bar staff, restaurant workers, catering and retail staff had been worst hit by the economic downturn, and that the current minimum wage is hopelessly inadequate.

But successive governments have had an answer to this problem since 1976, the same year Callaghan decided full employment wasn’t a primary objective (under Thatcher, it wasn't an objective at all). This was when he decided to introduce in-work benefits. These payments - and those to the jobless - grew and grew, to around a fifth of government spending, to wails from a political right that seemed unwilling to accept it was the inevitable flip-side of an economic vision it had supported. Today the Coalition is attempting to reform a system that was never designed to be used as a mechanism of redistribution in the face of low pay and mass unemployment.

As New Labour’s outsourcing drive picked up, a number of questions began to arise. First, there was the question of efficiency - it seems incredible, but government rarely if ever carried out detailed comparisons of inhouse versus outsourced provision, blithely accepting that one trumped the other. As Tim Banfield of the National Audit Office recently told Radio 4’s File on Four: “We’ve not seen sufficient evidence to back up the idea that it makes savings.”

Then there was the issue of transparency. There was no central database of outsourced contracts, no price break-downs for individual services, and the fine details of deals were kept secret under commercial confidentiality laws.  And this tied in with a third problem: competition. In this fragmented industry, it was hard to work out which companies had which percentage of contracts on their books, but a picture gradually began to emerge of just a few giant providers - the likes of Capita and Serco - dominating the scene.

This took us full circle: were these big corporations specialist only in winning contracts, rather than delivering on them? A badly-drawn up contract to which companies had no real obligation to adhere potentially worked for both parties - a local or national politician could sign off on a long-term deal promising value, and the saving could be cited throughout his tenure. By the time any problems emerged, he’d likely be long gone.

There was one other, more fundamental issue. Thatcher, Major and Blair were operating policies of government that, deep down, appeared to be based on the idea that individuals were motivated by money. They just couldn’t say it out loud.

And just as New Labour felt it was their job to build on, rather than question, the fundamental tenets of the Conservative vision, so David Cameron’s government spotted an answer to both these problems - the social fissures opening up due to a surplus of labour; the doubts beginning to form around outsourcing -  in their predecessors’ legislation.

*

The government won’t trumpet this, but it really is a New Labour policy. In 2002 the party published a paper on NHS financial reforms, which introduced a brand new idea: Payment By Results (PbR). In 2008 the Department for Work and Pensions’ (DWP) Commissioning Strategy asked for a much greater focus on the idea.

Today, PbR is arguably the central pillar of the Coalition’s thinking on the delivery of public services for the most vulnerable. While the projects associated with it have generated coverage, the concept itself oddly doesn’t seem to have attracted many headlines. Yet look how far its influence already spreads:

- The Work Programme and Troubled Families fund, run by the DWP.

- The Troubled Families Financial Framework, run by the Department for Communities and Local Government.

- Schemes aiming to reduce reoffending among inmates run by the Ministry of Justice.

- The Youth Contract, run by the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister, aiming to get young people into jobs.

- Acute health care services, run by the Department of Health in hospitals.

- For children’s charities like Barnardo’s and for Sure Start children’s centres, run by the Department for Education.

And more, with pilot schemes also taking place. These policies, many centring around early intervention, are aimed squarely at helping the rump of society that’s been left furthest behind by the economic changes described above - the families with generational unemployment, the young, the criminal, the drug-addicted.

But PbR stands for more than that. It’s supposed to produce many of those things felt to be lacking under the last Government - a diversity of providers, accountability, decentralisation, and fairness. If the name itself seems to give the lie to past and present governments’ fundamental cynicism about the motivations of public service providers, this will be offset by a greater emphasis on localism. As Oliver Letwin wrote in the Guardian earlier this year:

“In effect, central government is saying to local governments: ‘You have the power and the knowledge to bring the right people together in the right way in your locality to crack these problems which affect the whole country; and we will make it worthwhile for you to invest time and effort in doing so; but we'll do that by rewarding success, rather than by forcing you to tick boxes and follow processes we prescribe.’”

Many commentators, on left and right, want this vision to work, just as they backed New Labour’s outsourcing policies at the time. But the kvetches have already begun. In justice - last week, the the Wales Probation Trust wrote to MPs to tell them a north Wales project was to be put on hold on the instruction of new ministers, the same day that David Cameron announced he wanted to see it rolled out across the system. In health - last year, the director of NHS finance at the Department of Health, told an audience at a healthcare event in London that PbR ignores the quality of services.

And, of course, with the Government’s flagship policy: the Work Programme. All of which leads us back to Eco-Actif, and the real challenge that has to be overcome. The ironies stack up thick and fast when discussing all this. A company which aims to get people into work, finding that Government policies have left its staff on the dole queue? How did it happen?

Well, when Eco-Actif signed up to the Government’s flagship PbR scheme, the Work Programme, it was actually a sub-sub-contractor. The main contractor was - and here’s a familiar name - A4e. It’s this sort of company that’s able to put up the investment funds required to win a big contract. It then passed on the work to a social enterprise called 3SC, which in turn contracted Eco-Actif.

The charity found itself short of working capital while it waited up to 18 months for payment, due to red tape that cut the number of referrals it had been receiving. Essentially, it had signed a bad contract, with a giant company that had access to a lot more legal advice, and capital. It was the kind of disaster which professionals had warned about at least one year earlier.

Colleen Baldwin picks up the story: “Eco-Actif was unable to raise the needed bridging funds, because when it approached banks and other established and social finance providers, potential investors turned them down giving three grounds: the government's Work Programme is too high risk; the prime contractors are not passing sufficient funds to the ultimate delivery organisations to make sufficient surplus to finance any loan; their association with A4e is a matter of great concern.”

So here we see one of the obvious early problems with the PbR model: the danger that small charities are used as “bid candy” by the big players. The charity’s former managing director, Anna Burke, was remarkably equivocal about the £8.6 dividend paid to Emma Harrison, the A4e director, especially given that she’d lost £20,000 of her own money. She told Baldwin: “I feel this is a red herring - she was perfectly entitled to this money - we, as a ‘Big Society’ need to think about whether it is acceptable in the future to allow individuals to make large bonuses out of unemployment whilst small organisations go to the wall.’

Interestingly, despite her experience, Burke also remains of the view that PbR is a good thing if sensibly paid and properly financed - but she feels the Work Programme is fatally flawed. And there’s every chance she’s right. Earlier this month Channel Four News obtained leaked A4e figures. It found that over the first full year more than 93,000 unemployed people went on to A4E’s books. That alone netted the company more than £41m of taxpayers’ money in “attachment fees”. Of those people, just 3,400 found sustained work - a success rate under four per cent. There was a huge regional variation in the figures - possible evidence of a growing temptation to concentrate on those for whom jobs were easiest to find.

It’s hardly the only worry surrounding the programme - there have been concerns raised about bonuses being claimed for people who already have jobs, about cash being claimed by firms when clients have been helped by other firms; in short, about systemic fraud on the part of the largest contractors.

This is actually a very short survey of some of the issues surrounding the PbR model. Despite the above it isn’t, necessarily, a bad idea. But it’s clear that ministers need to make it easier for charities to bid for government contracts by guaranteeing a proportion of up-front payments to fund costs, and need to give investors more time to assess risks before funding charities.

Above all, we need far more transparency around the entire outsourcing industry. Yesterday’s Private Eye revealed in a single story that two leading government officials behind the programme have joined companies winning contracts under it (Adam Sharples has become Chairman of Ixiom, Alan Cave has gone to Serco), and that the commercial interests of Serco meant that the details of a February meeting with Oliver Letwin could not be disclosed. Without transparency, the stench emanating from tale after tale like this will continue to linger.

For decades now, we’ve voted in governments that have told us private is best, with little evidence to quantify that claim. It’s also time for us to consider other options for genuinely local, accountable public services. And maybe there’s a suitable model to be found on the Mozart Estate.

Workers in an Indian call centre. Outsourcing jobs abroad is just another element of this vision of a corporate-lead world. Photograph: Getty Images

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, Times, Private Eye, The National and the TLS. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture.

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How Jeremy Corbyn won the Labour leadership election

The revolt against the leader transformed him from an incumbent back into an insurgent. 

On the evening of 12 July, after six hours of talks, Jeremy Corbyn emerged triumphantly from Labour’s headquarters. “I’m on the ballot paper!” he told supporters gathered outside. “We will be campaigning on all the things that matter.”

The contest that Corbyn’s opponents had sought desperately to avoid had begun. Neither a vote of no confidence by 81 per cent of Labour MPs, nor 65 frontbench resignations had persuaded him to stand down. Days of negotiations led by Tom Watson had failed (“For years I’ve been told that I’m a fixer. Well, I tried to fix this and I couldn’t,” Labour’s deputy leader sorrowfully told the parliamentary party). The rebels’ last hope was that the National Executive Committee would force Corbyn to reseek nominations. After being backed by just 40 colleagues in the confidence vote, both sides knew that the leader would struggle to achieve 51 signatures.

But by 18-14, the NEC ruled that Corbyn would be automatically on the ballot (“Watson, Watson, what’s the score?” chanted jubilant aides in the leader’s office). After withstanding a 16-day revolt, Corbyn appeared liberated by the prospect of a summer of campaigning. His confidence prefigured the outcome two months later.

Corbyn did not merely retain the leadership - he won by a greater margin than last time (with 61.8 per cent of the vote to last year's 59.5 per cent) and triumphed among all three sections: party members, affiliated supporters and registered supporters. The rebels had hoped to narrow his mandate and win among at least one group: they did neither. Far from being a curse for Corbyn, the contest proved to be a blessing. 

***

The day before the pivotal NEC meeting, Angela Eagle, who had been preparing to stand for months, launched her leadership bid. The former shadow business secretary was admired by MPs for her experience, tenacity, and economic acumen. Her trade union links and soft left background were further cited in favour of her candidacy.

But after an underwhelming launch, which clashed with Andrea Leadsom’s withdrawal from the Conservative contest (leaving Eagle calling questions from absent journalists), MPs gravitated towards Owen Smith.

Like Eagle, Smith hailed from the party’s soft left and had initially served under Corbyn (two prerequisites in the rebels’ eyes). But unlike her, the former shadow and work pensions secretary did not vote for the Iraq war (having entered parliament in 2010) or the 2015 Syria intervention. “It looks like the war party,” a senior Corbynite said of Eagle’s campaign launch with Hilary Benn. Many Labour MPs feared the same. With the left-leaning Lisa Nandy having ruled herself out, only the ambitious Smith met the criteria.

“I’d been in hospital for two days with my brother, who was unwell, in south Wales,” he recalled when I interviewed him.  “I came out having literally been in A&E at Cardiff Heath hospital for 29 hours, looking after him, to have my phone light up with 30, 40, 50 colleagues, MPs and members, ringing up saying ‘there’s going to be a contest, Angela Eagle has thrown her hat into the ring, you should do likewise.’ And at that point, on the Wednesday night, I started ringing people to test opinion and found that there was a huge amount of support for me.”

On 19 July, after Smith won 90 MP/MEP nominations to Eagle’s 72, the latter withdrew in favour of the Welshman. A week after the Conservatives achieved their second female prime minister, Labour’s 116-year record of all-male leaders endured. Though Smith vowed that Eagle would be “at my right hand throughout this contest”, she went on to appear at just one campaign event.

Corbyn’s challenger was embraced by MPs as a “clean skin”, untainted by service during the New Labour years. But Smith’s non-parliamentary past was swiftly - and ruthlessly - exploited by his opponents. His time at the US drugs firm Pfizer was cited as evidence of his closeness to big business. Corbyn’s supporters also seized on interviews given by Smith as a by-election candidate in 2006.

The man pitching to the left was found to have defended Tony Blair (suggesting that they differed only over the Iraq war), supported private sector involvement in the NHS and praised city academies. “I'm not someone, frankly, who gets terribly wound up about some of the ideological nuances,” he told Wales Online. Such lines were rapidly disseminated by Corbyn supporters through social media.

“Getting out early and framing Owen was crucial,” a Corbyn source told me. A Smith aide echoed this assessment: “It helped secure their base, it took a load of people out of contention.”

Throughout the campaign, Smith would struggle to reconcile his past stances with his increasingly left-wing programme: opposing private provision in the NHS, returning academy schools to local authority control, banning zero-hours contracts and imposing a wealth tax of 1 per cent. “It was easy for us to go for the jugular over his background when he portrayed himself as a left candidate,” a Corbyn source said.

Smith insisted that the charge of opportunism was unmerited. “To be honest, my opponents have extrapolated rather a lot in an attempt to brand me as a ‘Blairite wolf in sheep’s clothing,’” he told me in August. “Well, I’m nothing of the sort, I’ve always been a democratic socialist and I always will be.” He added: “I’m someone who’s been surrounded by people who’ve been on the left of the Labour movement all their lives. It should come as no surprise that I’ve come out of that background and I’m pretty red. Because I am.”

But a former shadow cabinet colleague said that Smith did not stand out as “a radical” in meetings. “The only time that I remember him becoming really animated was over further tax-raising powers for Scotland and the implications for Wales.”

As well as Smith’s ambiguous past, Corbyn’s allies believe the breadth of his political coalition hindered him from the start. “He was trying to bring together Blairites, Brownites and every other -ite in between,” a campaign source said. “That was never going to hold, we knew that and from the moment there were splits it was easy to point out.”

Jon Trickett, the shadow business secretary and one of Corbyn’s early supporters, told me: “They tried to pretend that there was no distinction between them and Jeremy on policy grounds, they tried to narrow down the areas of difference to electability. But, frankly, it didn’t seem credible since some of the people behind it were absolutely ideologically opposed to Jeremy. Peter Mandelson and people like that.”

A frequently expressed charge was that Smith’s left-wing pledges would be overturned by Blairite figures if he won. John McGeechan, a 22-year-old postgraduate student who joined Labour after “self-indulgent, self-serving MPs initiated their corridor coup”, told me of Smith: “He’s just another mealy-mouthed careerist who says whatever he thinks is going to get him elected. I don’t believe at all that he means what he says about creating a radical socialist government given that he’s got the backing of Peter Mandelson, Alastair Campbell and Tony Blair, people who’ve disagreed with Corbyn on pretty much all his socialist policies. I don’t believe that he’s going to stand up to these people.”

Whether believable or not, Smith’s programme showed how Corbyn had shifted Labour’s centre of gravity radically leftwards - his original aim in June 2015.

***

On the night Corbyn made the leadership ballot, the rebels still found cause for hope. Unlike in 2015, the NEC imposed a freeze date of six months on voting (excluding 130,000 new members) and increased the registered supporter fee from £3 to £25 (while reducing the sign-up period to two days). “It’s game on!” a senior figure told me. By narrowing the selectorate, Corbyn’s opponents hoped to achieve a path to victory. With fewer registered supporters (84 per cent of whom voted for Corbyn last year), they believed full party members and affiliated trade unionists could carry Smith over the line.

But when 183,000 paid £25 to vote, their expectations were confounded. Far from being “game on”, it looked to many rebels like game over. Once again, Corbyn’s opponents had underestimated the left’s recruiting capacity. Smith’s lack of name recognition and undistinctive pitch meant he could not compete.

Alongside the main contest were increasingly fractious legal battles over voting rights. On 28 July, the high court rejected Labour donor Michael Foster’s challenge to Corbyn’s automatic inclusion on the ballot. Then on 8 August, a judge ruled that the party had wrongly excluded new members from voting, only for the decision to be overturned on appeal.

In the view of Corbyn’s allies, such legal manevoures unwittingly aided him. “They turned Jeremy, who was an incumbent, back into an insurgent,” Trickett told me. “The proponents of the challenge made it seem like he was the underdog being attacked by the establishment.”

Smith, who repeatedly framed himself as the “unity candidate”, struggled to escape the shadow of the “corridor coup”. That many of his supporters had never accepted Corbyn’s leadership rendered him guilty by association.

“The coup had an enormous galvanising effect and an enormous politicising effect,” a Corbyn source told me. “For a great number of people who supported Jeremy last year, there was a feeling, ‘well, we’ve done the work, that’s happened, now over to him.’ What the coup meant for a lot of people was that this isn’t about Jeremy Corbyn, this is a people’s movement, which we all need to lead.” The Corbyn campaign signed up 40,000 volunteers and raised £300,000 in small donations from 19,000 people (with an average donation of £16). Against this activist army, their rivals’ fledgling effort stood no chance.

“At the launch rally, we had 12 simultaneous events going on round the country, livestreamed to each other,” a Corbyn source said. “We had a lot of communication with people who were big in the Sanders campaign. In the UK context, it’s trailblazing.”

On 12 August, after previously equivocating, Smith ruled out returning to the shadow cabinet under Corbyn. “I've lost confidence in you. I will serve Labour on the backbenches,” he declared at a hustings in Gateshead. In the view of Corbyn’s team, it was a fatal error. “He shot apart his whole unity message,” a source said.

Smith, who initially offered Corbyn the post of party president, was rarely booed more than when he lamented Labour’s divisions. As one of the 172 MPs who voted against the leader, he was regarded as part of the problem, rather than the solution. By the end, Smith was reduced to insisting “I wasn’t in favour of there being a challenge” - a statement that appeared absurd to most.

As well as his leftist credentials and unifying abilities, Smith’s other main boast was his competence and articulacy. “HIs USP was that he was this media-savvy guy,” a Corbyn source said. “As a result, he threw himself up for any and every media opportunity and made tons of gaffes. We just made sure people were aware of them.”

The most enduring gaffe came early in the campaign, on 27 July, when he spoke of wanting mto “smash” Theresa May “back on her heels”. Though Smith initially defended his “robust rhetoric” (“you’ll be getting that from me”), by the afternoon his campaign had apologised. What was explained as a “rugby reference” dogged them for weeks. “It played into the hands of how Corbyn wanted to depict us,” a Smith source told me. “It was really hard to shake off.”

More unforced errors followed. Smith suggested getting Isis “round the table”, in anticipation, many believed, of Corbyn agreeing. But the Labour leader baulked at the proposal: “No, they are not going to be round the table”. Corbyn’s communications team, more organised and agile than in 2015, denounced Smith’s remarks as “hasty and ill-considered”. As with “smashed”, the Labour challenger had achieved rare cut-through - but for the wrong reasons.

Smith’s rhetorical looseness became a recurring problem. At a rally on 23 August, he appeared to refer to Corbyn as a “lunatic”. In an interview with the Daily Mirror, he said of meeting his wife: “1,200 boys, three girls and I pulled Liz. So I must have something going on. That must be leadership.”

Earlier in the campaign, Smith’s team denied that the candidate referred to the size of his penis when he quipped of his height: "5ft 6. 29 inches - inside leg!” The guffaws from his supporters suggested otherwise.

We used to have a gaffe counter,” a Corbyn source told me. “I think it got up to 30 by the end.”

Smith’s team, meanwhile, despaired at how the Labour leader’s own missteps failed to dent him. The discovery that Corbyn had in fact secured a seat on a Virgin train, contrary to initial impressions, did little lasting damage. “It’s priced in, the bar is much lower for him,” a Smith source complained.

Incorrect claims, such as Labour being level in the polls before the coup attempt and Corbyn giving 122 speeches during the EU referendum campaign, were believed by many of his supporters. “How do you rebut bullshit?” a Smith aide asked. “If you respond, it becomes a story.”

So frequently had Labour MPs condemned their leader that extraordinary charges were soon forgotten. On 22 August, shadow business minister Chi Onwurah wrote in the New Statesman that Corbyn’s treatment of her and Thangam Debbonaire could constitute “racial discrimination”.

If this had been any of my previous employers in the public and private sectors Jeremy might well have found himself before an industrial tribunal for constructive dismissal, probably with racial discrimination thrown in,” she argued. But within a day, the story had moved on.  

For Smith, fleeting momentum was achieved through significant endorsements. On 10 August, the GMB backed his campaign after becoming the only trade union to ballot its members. The following week, Labour’s most senior elected politician, Sadiq Khan, endorsed Smith. Unlike Andy Burnham, the London mayor believed he could not remain neutral during this profound schism. Smith was subsequently also backed by the Scottish Labour leader, Kezia Dugdale. Neil Kinnock and Ed Miliband trumpeted his cause. Yet such declarations counted for little. “It’s like the Remain campaign and the Archbishop of Canterbury,” one Smith ally told me, suggesting that Labour members, like Leave voters, ”weren’t listening” to such grandees.

But in the view of Corbyn’s team, the rebels profoundly “underestimated” their opponent. “He’s a nice guy but he also has an inner steel and won't flinch from a challenge. The Obi-Wan Kenobi comparison is very accurate when you work up close with him. He’s also extremely intelligent and has a great grasp and retention of detail. It showed in the debates.”

“I have to say, I felt pretty sorry for Owen at several points,” another Corbyn source reflected. “Whatever it was, his ambition or being pushed into it, it didn’t seem like it was the right time for him. He hadn’t worked out what he was about and why that fitted with the times.”

***

Those Labour MPs who long warned that an early challenge to Corbyn would prove futile have been vindicated. “Party members are always loyal to the incumbent,” a senior source astutely noted. In the case of Corbyn, a lifelong campaigner, who many contended was “never given a chance”, this traditional fealty was intensified.

“Most of the people backing and funding him didn’t think Owen was going to win,” a Corbyn source said. “Their aim was, one, to reduce Jeremy’s mandate and, secondly, to map the selectorate.”

Having won a second leadership contest - an unprecedented achievement for the Labour left - the leader’s supporters insist their ambitions do not end here. “We’ve got to think incredibly seriously about how we win a general election in a totally changed landscape,” a Corbyn source told me. “This campaign has been showing how to do it.” But a Smith aide warned that it was a “massive strategic error” to make electability, rather than principle, the defining test of Corbyn. The leader, he suggested, could withstand a general election defeat provided he simply affirmed his values.

Beyond regarding a split as worthless, Labour MPs are divided on how to proceed. Some want another leadership challenge as early as next year. Rather than seeking to narrow the selectorate, they speak of recruiting hundreds of thousands of new members to overpower the left. “There are lots of people out there who want a credible, electable, centre-left proposition and we have not given them enough of a reason to sign up,” a former shadow cabinet minister told me. “Who has an offer and the charisma to be able to bring in new people? That has to be the question the next time round.”

Others believe that backbenchers should follow Thumper’s law: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”  A senior MP argued that MPs should “just shut up” and “let Jeremy crack on with it.” The imperative, he said, was to avoid MPs “taking the blame for us getting thumped in a snap election”. Some are prepared to move beyond neutrality to outright support by serving under Corbyn.

The Labour left and their most recalcitrant opponents both confront challenges of electability. The former must demonstrate a path to victory despite Corbyn’s subterranean poll ratings. The latter, who boast so often of their superior appeal, must face a remorseless truth. Until they are electable in the party, they will never be electable in the country.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.