Call it Project Chainsaw. It usually takes a government a couple of years or so to blame the government for stopping it from achieving what it wants to do. Keir Starmer has got there in eight months. There again, most governments have a clear plan when they get into office, so maybe it takes them longer to notice. With a few honourable exceptions, Labour never had that vision – all their focus had been on winning the election – so maybe without the distraction of having a plan that was being blocked, it took them less time to blame the government for being the problem.
Here things took a further turn to the meta. How many people does it take to deliver a speech on cutting the size of the state and making efficiency savings? There appears to be no upper limit. Because it felt as if we had been drip fed most of the speech over the previous four days. So much so that for much of its duration it felt as if you already knew it word for word. Ministers need to be careful what they ask for when they talk of making efficiencies.
First we had Pat McFadden out on the airwaves last Sunday talking about how the government was planning to cut civil service numbers. Pat makes the Grim Reaper look like a Cheerful Chappy, so he was the ideal outrider to let people know they could expect to be repurposed. Over the next few days there were further details from other ministers and lobby briefings. This wasn’t going to be a bonfire of the quangos – this was to be no Elon Musk Doge exercise, even if it looked rather like it and some of the language sounded much the same. This was a more sensitive, thoughtful exercise. Caring Cuts. Ozempic Cuts. Not cuts for the hell of it.
On Thursday morning, in the research and development campus of Reckitt in Hull, we finally reached the endpoint. If not the beginning of the end, then at least the end of the beginning. First, a correction. This wasn’t to be considered a speech. Even though it would involve the prime minister standing up and talking for the best part of 30 minutes before taking questions. Rather, it was an “intervention”. You could apparently tell because Keir wasn’t wearing a jacket. Wide-eyed and tieless. Mr Informality.
Starmer began with a brief riff on his hosts – repeating back to them what they had already told him: just to show he had been paying attention – before warming to his theme. He had been elected on a promise of change and was determined to deliver.
We were living in insecure times and we needed to be strong. To get people and the country working better. And things were improving but not nearly as fast as he would have liked. He believed in the power of government to change lives but didn’t think we were getting good value from the state.
Government was overstretched and unfocused. It was time for the state to stop expanding. To let AI do the work of civil servants. Come to think of it, he might also have got AI to deliver this speech. Even when he believes in what he’s saying, Starmer sounds as if he’s struggling to stay awake for the end of the sentence.
Now things became a little confusing as Keir cut to the civil service. He really, really loved civil servants. Thought they were the best of the best. This might have come as a shock to the civil servants as a few months ago he had rubbished them as a waste of space. A bunch of lazy bastards whose first instinct was always to say no.
Never mind. Let’s assume Keir has had a change of heart. What wasn’t so clear was what he imagined would happen to the civil servants after the efficiencies had been made. He rather glossed over the job losses bit to focus on the benefits for the civil servants. More time to do other things. Like marvel at the wonders of AI. Admire the view out the window. Bread making. Quality of life. The way he was speaking made it sound as if he was thinking of employing more civil servants to make sure that those civil servants with less to do were feeling happy and valued.
It was much the same for the quangos themselves. Although there were definitely far too many quangos, he wouldn’t actually commit to getting rid of any. Not even the one in Bingley whose sole purpose was to throw cricket balls at buildings. Or something like that. Keir sounded as muddled as I felt. He also never fully explained how it was that his own government had created more than 20 of its own quangos in the past six months. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if he had announced a new quango to oversee the abolition of other quangos. OFQUANG.
“We are driving change forward with a plan for change,” Starmer continued. Just as everyone was trying to work out what the hell that meant and which bit of defective AI had written that deadening sentence, Keir dropped his bombshell. A genuine piece of news in an otherwise forgettable speech. Sorry, “intervention”. He was planning to get rid of NHS England. The NHS would become the sole responsibility of the government and not some arm’s length body. No more duplication. It was such an obvious idea you wondered why no one had thought of it earlier. Perhaps we will soon find out.
Then came the questions from the media. GB News became excited at the possibility of the government dropping all its diversity, equity and inclusion policies. An end to wokery. Starmer had to let the broadcaster down gently. This was all about cutting with kindness. Others wondered if this was a return to austerity. Again, Keir said no. Everything would remain just the same but different.
Mostly, though, the hacks wanted to know about the planned benefits cuts. Next week’s news that Labour had started briefing the media about long before Starmer had completed this week’s news cycle. Confused? You should be. Efficiency savings have yet to penetrate No 10. Do as I say, not as I do.
