Better the devil, you know?

If you have even a cursory knowledge of British parliamentary politics, the story that has played out in the in the headlines across the last few weeks fits a familiar pattern.

Fresh criticism of British Prime Minister Keir Starmer has followed disappointing council elections results, which saw the decimation of Labour councils across England coupled with a concerning rise in representation for Reform UK. The backlash within the party has reignited criticism of Starmer’s leadership, and prompted renewed speculation over Labour’s direction. Although it initially looked like the party may swing right with the resignation of Wes Streeting, he has since stopped short of a leadership challenge, instead making way for Andy Burnham, Mayor of Greater Manchester, to contest a Labour safe seat – the first step towards an official leadership bid predicted to occur in the autumn.

With the last full term served by a single PM ending over a decade ago (David Cameron 2010 – 2015), it easy to view this sequence of events with a weary sense of déjà vu. What could be interpreted as a by-product of the Conservative penchant for psychodrama is now emerging as characteristic of modern British politics as a whole. In the face of hardship, leadership at the top collapses inward: the hydra switches which head it shows you, in hopes of convincing you that it is not the same dragon that has just set fire to your economy.

So why has this sticking-plaster tactic become a favourite of the two-party system? Arguably, it is both a product of and a reaction to the system. When the majority of political identity within the country must squeeze into two parties, the discourse which organically spreads across a spectrum must exist within a single forum, led by a single figure, it will inevitably tear itself apart from within on a regular basis.

And when said party is faced with criticism or failure, switching leaders acts as a visual cue to indicate a change to the party itself, even when that change is not actually occurring. A different face at the head of the party, perhaps accompanied by a “new and improved” list of policies, may convince the casually involved voter that meaningful change has occurred. Of course, this doesn’t last for long: the country becomes dissatisfied, and the cycle begins again. Both of these processes are exacerbated by wider political turmoil, which perhaps explains why recent years of economic uncertainty, international conflict, and political turbulence have coincided with an increasingly rapid conveyor belt of Prime Ministers.

As the government struggles to find its own identity, a different form of political party is growing in influence and excelling exactly where traditional parties fail. Across the political spectrum, political parties which fall under the broad term of “populist” are growing momentum: vastly different in most ways, but unified by one key factor – a charismatic figure head.

Drawn in by the radical concept of actually liking the leader of your country, voters are abandoning the two-party system to go extreme in both directions. And as both Labour and the Conservatives fail to mount a convincing challenger to the likes of Nigel Farage, it seems that their inability to back a leader they (or anyone else) can actually tolerate, may be one of the many nails in the coffin of UK politics as we know it.