The Economist January 15th 2022 45
BritainBorisJohnsonBreaking bad
H
ollow-eyed andwith his shoulders
hunched, Boris Johnson offered the
sort of apology he has made to many peo
ple, many times. In May 2020, with Britain
in strict lockdown, Downing Street offi
cials had held a drinks party in the prime
minister’s walled garden. He attended for
25 minutes, he admitted to the House of
Commons on January 12th. And he under
stood the “rage” Britons felt at that, after
enduring private miseries that spring.
He also set out his defence, which will
be central to an inquiry by Sue Gray, a se
nior civil servant: that he was an unwitting
participant, since the garden was being
used as an office, and that he believed “im
plicitly” that it was a work event. It looked
bad, but “could be said technically to fall
within the guidance”. Sir Keir Starmer, La
bour’s leader, said that was ridiculous and
demanded that he resign.
He almost certainly won’t. The mood of
Tory mps is bleak, and donors who funded
his election campaign are incensed. “I just
feel a bit disgusted,” says a financier, whois considering turning off the taps. A hand
ful of senior figures, among them Douglas
Ross, the leader of the Scottish Conserva
tives, and William Wragg, a selectcommit
tee chair, have called for him to go.
But his party is unlikely to force him out
in short order. That would require 54 mps
to sign a letter of no confidence, and then
180, or half the parliamentary party, to vote
to eject him. The Conservatives’ reputation
for ruthless regicide has been undeserved
since the days of Margaret Thatcher. It has
since had a high tolerance for low perfor
mance: the hapless Theresa May was got
rid of only in 2019, two years after she lost
the party its majority. Some backbenchers
are happy with a crippled prime minister,
since it makes him biddable on corona
virus policy and Brexit.
For most of his career, Mr Johnson’s po
litical appeal has lain in his rulebreaking.
As mayor of London he would break the
small rules of politics, which forbid lies
and affairs, thumbing his nose at pofaced
rivals. Voters who were tired of slicknessliked him, just as small boys like slapstick.
As prime minister he promised to break
the big rules that framed political reality. A
“people’s government” would offer what
ever whetted the public’s appetite, in par
ticular things that had been ruled out of
bounds because they were uneconomic or
impractical. Britain could leave the Euro
pean Union, radically curtail immigration
and lavish funds on pet projects, from
bridges to royal yachts, no matter what
Treasury beancounters might say. If Par
liament was obstructive, it could be sus
pended. His would be a goodtimes admin
istration, and he a merry Charles II to Mrs
May’s mirthless Oliver Cromwell.
But after weeks of revelations about
lockdown parties and irregular donations,
the breaking of small rules has lost its
charm. Mr Johnson is now badly damaged
inside his party, and unpopular in the
country. According to Ipsos mori, a poll
ster, his net approval rating has slumped to
36, close to Jeremy Corbyn’s shortly before
his election defeat of 2019. Sir Keir, a for
mer public prosecutor, will make probity
in public office central to his campaign to
be prime minister.
Meanwhile the big rules of politics are
reasserting themselves. The government
faces a gruelling spring, preparing for local
elections while household incomes are be
ing squeezed and public services are com
ing under severe strain. The campaign will
be led by a diminished prime minister whoA career of breaking rules, large and small, runs into crisis→Alsointhissection
46 Whyenergybillsaresettosoar
48 Bagehot:BorisJohnson,reliableliar
— Read more at: Economist.com/Britain