We are all products of our environment. The peppered moth evolved darker colouring to better camouflage in the sooty landscape of post Industrial Revolution Britain – then started reverting to its lighter form as clean air legislation reduced pollution. Sockeye salmon have changed their yearly migration patterns in response to climate change. Urbanisation is driving populations of white clover to alter the level of the defensive toxin cyanide they produce.
All of which is to say: the conditions of the game set the result. And as in nature, so in leadership contests – as the Labour Party is currently finding out.
If Labour followed the same process for removing a leader as the Conservatives – the one we have grown so used to over the past decade – a challenge against Keir Starmer would undoubtedly have been launched by now. Instead of the high-pressure stalemate underway since the election results last week (or, if you prefer, since the Prime Minister’s popularity and authority began to crumble months ago), anonymous letters would have poured into the inbox of the Labour equivalent of the chair of the 1922 committee. Given that 92 Labour MPs so far have publicly called for Keir Starmer to go, we can be confident that the threshold for triggering a confidence vote the Tory way (a third of the parliamentary party now, 15 per cent pre-2024) would have already been met.
But Labour are not the Tories. Labour MPs dissatisfied with Starmer need to decide not just whether to go over the top, but who to back as an alternative when they do so. The process affects race dynamics and momentum. Whoever makes the first move to formally launch their bid (lone-wolf-turned-stalking-horse Catherine West aside) becomes a target, in a way they could avoid if they were allowed to keep their head down until the messy job of removing the PM was complete. This is why there has been so much dithering, with Westminster waiting on tenterhooks for 36 hours, as Wes Streeting to decided his next move – only for him to resign as health secretary without launching a challenge.
History is full of lessons in how the rules of the game shape how it is played and who comes out on top. John Major was not quite the underdog in 1990 when he succeeded Margaret Thatcher (he was chancellor of the exchequer at the time, previously foreign secretary), but he certainly benefited from the Tory system requiring a named challenger to run against the leader. That challenger was Michael Heseltine, whose unsuccessful bid weakened Thatcher’s authority to the point she was forced to resign, but torpedoed his own credibility in the process, paving the way for a non-toxic consensus candidate. As the Guardian report the next day put it: “In the grassroots’ revulsion against the political murder of their heroine, Mr Heseltine’s cause was damaged,” and Major reaped the benefits. Heseltine might have fared better in a system of anonymous letters (which the Tories adopted under William Hague in 1998).
Those same rules helped Major again when he was challenged himself in 1995. Tory heavyweights had learned their lesson and took a backseat, letting John Redwood take the lead and the flak. Major stood down to run against Redwood, demanded his party “back me or sack me”, and won. Had the figures waiting in the wings for the second round – Heseltine again, or Michael Portillo – been bolder, Major could have been toast.
Margaret Thatcher herself had learned how to work the process. Her 1975 challenge against Ted Heath was supposedly a stalking horse attempt, with her campaign whispering she would drop out after the first round. If this reassured colleagues uncertain about the prospect of a female leader to back her temporarily, it backfired: the party voted for her so decisively she was able to ride that momentum straight to the leader’s office.
That was all back in the days when Conservative MPs could choose their leader irrespective of the views of party members. The decision to leave it up to the members radically shifted dynamics. Rishi Sunak had the undisputed backing of MPs in the summer of 2022, when Tory members instead opted for Liz Truss. Some Tory strategists even wonder whether Boris Johnson would necessarily have triumphed over Jeremy Hunt to succeed Theresa May in 2019 – Johnson’s hype among his base of enthusiastic MPs was in part driven by the membership’s frenzied adoration for the former London mayor. (Remember, in an urban environment, different levels of toxin are required.)
As for the Labour Party, the rules on electing leaders have changed repeatedly over the years and are even more convoluted, requiring a mix of a support from MPs, constituency Labour parties (CLPs), affiliated trade unions and party members. In 2015, nominations from just 35 Labour MPs were required to get a candidate on the ballot. Almost a third of the MPs who put their names to support Jeremy Corbyn’s candidacy actually backed other candidates but agreed to lend him their votes to broaden the contest. They had not realised the extent to which the 2014 change to a “one member, one vote” system alongside the inclusion of over 100,000 “three-quid voters” – non-members who had signed up online as registered supporters – would alter the game. The climate had changed dramatically, but the party didn’t notice until the contest was well underway.
What is the climate like now? After last week’s election meltdown, with support collapsing in all parts of the country to parties on the left and the right, there are fears Labour is facing extinction. There is also still a sense of disbelief as to how quickly it has all fallen apart, less than two years after a historic victory. The blame game is in full swing, with various factions despising each other almost as much as (or, perhaps in some cases, more than) they despise the opposition parties. The assessment among MPs as to what has gone wrong (not that they can agree amongst themselves) will not be shared by members and affiliated groups. But those members are the ones who have the final say. And the MPs now considering their nominations know that.
In this new environment, anything could happen. Wes Streeting has finally resigned but appears for now to have bottled launching the challenge we have known was coming for months, on the day Angela Rayner announces her HMRC headache has been cleared, while Andy Burnham’s chances of parachuting himself into Westminster in time for a contest grow more remote by the minute. As the toxicity heightens, MPs may rally around someone deemed less contentious, fresher, or more suited to bringing a fractured party together.
The notion of Ed Miliband or Yvette Cooper as a caretaker to steady the ship until a new rising star is ready to take over is looking more appealing. Lucy Powell, who won the deputy leadership contest at the end of last year and has the benefit of not being viscerally disliked by any of the camps, could emerge as a consensus candidate. Bridget Phillipson has shown she is capable of doing the job in front of her rather than getting distracted by manoeuvres – an appealing quality for those desperately seeking an end to the psychodrama. And armed forces minister Al Carns is out and about reminding the party that, if they want a successor untarnished by the historically unpopular Starmer government, options are available.
The rules of the contest and the context for its existence will shape the campaigns and the chances of whoever chooses to run in it. Under a different system, a different victor might emerge triumphant. As we wait for the next developments, consider that Wes Streeting may find he is a moth whose wings, alas, are adapted to sootier skies.
[Further reading: Labour’s Reform defectors are never coming back]
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