The Descent of the Executive in British Politics

To many, British politics is unrecognisable compared to its pre-referendum state. At that time, though some had issues with the ideologies and policies at play, the system itself largely functioned as intended. You had a Prime Minister who would – and did – resign when the situation indicated they could no longer credibly sustain their position. You had a parliamentary system with a functioning Government and Opposition. You had a Britain which, at least ostensibly, retained a reasonable leadership role on the world stage.

It would be hard to convince anyone growing up now of that situation’s plausibility.

The most concerning thing is not the issues discussed (although those are an article unto themselves), but the systemic fractures behind them. Britain is in the unfortunate position of having both a Prime Minister and a Leader of the Opposition who both find themselves utterly unable to lead. Leadership involves taking initiative, navigating the path ahead and lighting the way clearly for others to follow. It involves clarity, confidence and credibility, whatever the ideology conveyed by it. On a deeper level, it involves integrity, honesty and authenticity. Neither Theresa May, nor Jeremy Corbyn, have been in remote possession of any of those qualities. As such, the increasing desperation for any executive leadership has led to its duties – and associated scrutiny from both public and media – descending from the Prime Minister and Opposition, through Parliament to the smaller parties below in search of anyone capable of filling the vacuum.

The primary issue with the lack of leadership displayed by both Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn, functionally-speaking, is that Britain is left without both its primary elected leader, and the standard alternative. In a nation in dire need of leadership, neither option seems remotely inclined to lead. In constitution speak, this is known as the role of the executive. The executive is a singular role because, by its nature, it involves the most complex decision-making. The larger the group, the more the simplistic discourse must be simply because of the social and communication mechanics. The individuals within groups may be capable of complex decisions, but when these are transferred to a larger group setting, things inherently become more reactive and less considered. Normally, the executive would be elected as the most representative person to make those decisions, after which they would light the way for Cabinet, Parliament and the country beyond them. Currently, that is far from the case.

Given that both the executive and executive-in-waiting have declined to take on that role, by necessity the burdens of the executive passed first to Parliament. This was the point at which we saw the crises over John Bercow (the Speaker) and the indicative votes. A crisis ensued because Parliament was never designed to take on the role of the executive. A legislative chamber designed around organised, oppositional debate is intended to provide deliberate and functional balance to decisions made by an individual, not replace them. From November onwards, after Theresa May brought her deal back to the country, we saw a calm before the storm as the deal was awaited, then increasing strain as Parliament slowly realised that it needed to find some way of making that decision before it lost all credibility. A crisis ensued as Parliament tried to find a way of taking on the role of the executive in a manner considered unthinkable both before and since. In doing so, that credibility was perhaps irrevocably abandoned.

This was made more complex by those very systems designed to counterbalance the executive (party whips and party loyalty) and by individuals acting increasingly for their own political gain. What people did not necessarily see is that Parliament was also severely concerned about setting problematic constitutional precedent. The argument around even holding indicative votes was so fiery because even though it was the one action outside of a decisive PM which might salvage Parliament’s image, it was also something which could be exploited in future. Given that the indicative votes were indeed forced through by MPs, they could now be the equivalent of Obama’s use of executive orders to Britain’s future Trump. Britain’s uncodified constitution lives on this kind of precedent and MPs were rightly wary to set it.

However, by doing so,  Parliament managed to follow in the wake of the executives who failed before it. Where the leaders effectively abdicated executive responsibility by failing to lead, Parliament somehow managed to do so by being simultaneously both too responsible and too irresponsible on how to take on the role. Here we see the first stage of the problems of group decision-making and the executive: on more complex decisions, even an organised, civil-to-a-fault debating chamber is incapable of balancing so many individual interests against one singular decision. This is why the singular executive normally exists, to be the elected, representative tie-breaker. Much as Dominic Grieve was accused of being Prime Minister for a day when he launched his indicative votes, all MPs were trying to find their own way through the executive mire. Yet, alone or together, 650 MPs do not a Prime Minister make.

The stage Britain finds itself now is one where both stages of elected representatives have demonstrably failed to take up the reigns, and so, having lost the faith of those they ostensibly govern, the role of the executive passes to lesser parties of which the front-runners are the Liberal Democrats and the Brexit Party (ChangeUK do an awful lot more empty talking than doing, which is demonstrably the opposite of the leadership Britain needs). At this point, it’s much more of a free-for-all for whomever can actually manage to plausibly do the job. A society as large as Britain – and specifically one under First Past the Post – cannot make do with medieval lawspeakers or local dispute-resolution committees. It needs someone in charge. Someone who demonstrates clarity, confidence and credibility, whatever the ideology conveyed by it. At this desperate point, integrity, honesty and authenticity have become entirely optional. They are now found in the ‘wishlist’ area of the job description, rather than under ‘key requirements’, and that job needs filling urgently.

The role of Britain’s executive has now descended from the Prime Minister and Leader of the Opposition, through Parliament, to the smaller parties. At this point, procedure is increasingly nominal, and the landscape unpredictable. Britain isn’t looking for an ideal leader with integrity, honesty and authenticity – it’s just looking for someone who can manage to read the job description. Right now, it’s Nigel Farage and his Brexit Party who have most successfully launched their campaign and engaged public trust. They have done this by inspiring confidence, providing clarity of vision and image and demonstrating credibility through asking compelling questions which draw genuine criticisms towards their own ends.

The Liberal Democrats are doing a decent job of forming a viable alternative. However, due to being complicit in the quagmire that is recent parliamentary history, they have much more baggage than Farage’s Brexit alternative. Parliament’s time struggling with the executive question has in some ways afflicted all standard parties with Governing Party syndrome, punishing them for actions when they were given the reigns of power. The Brexit Party and its predecessor, UKIP, have no such issues, having never successfully contested an election to Parliament. Indeed, UKIP has always been primarily an MEP party. Even in this capacity, Nigel Farage is well known for doing his absolute best to avoid any actual MEP duties, steering him well clear of any implication in them. Farage is the most popular candidate to govern precisely because he has never had the affliction of being the governing party.

Due to the executive role being increasingly dispersed towards popular support and the utter loss of public trust in the normal organs of power, the Brexit Party does not need to attain credibility through the standard channels. Indeed, Parliament as a whole has become proven, in the eyes of the public, to not deserve the trust placed in it by Britain’s voters. At this point, both Parliament and the Executive are almost poisonous to the touch, having laid the seeds of critical truth through their abdication of responsibility. All the Brexit Party needs to do is point to their flaws to garner a powerful cloak of political credibility. Their clarity, confidence and credibility are obtained not through detail or accuracy, but emotion and belief. Any party seeking to return politics to the parliamentary fold needs to anticipate and respond to those criticisms intelligently and honestly if they are to succeed in combating Farage’s compelling manifestation of hope. They must beat them, truly and completely, at the credibility game.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Britain’s constitutional functionality is in serious and urgent need of repair, either by its elected custodians or someone new willing to take on the executive role. Otherwise, through necessity, Farage will be Britain’s solution. It is clear that the British people must be very cautious, in these volatile times, about their chosen recipient of executive power.