Margaret on the first conference speech as Prime Minister, a triple lock to be changed after the next election and the difference between a promise and a payment
Saturday 10 October, 3.30pm, a sofa with a rug that smells faintly of dog, a laptop open to a long article and a plate of ginger biscuits that I am treating as a policy costing exercise: I eat one for each promise and then count what is left.
Dear Diary. The Prime Minister’s first conference speech was delivered ten days ago, and I have only now found a full account that I trust. I wanted to wait, because the first reports of a speech are always written by people who have been in the hall and have been moved by the music. A week or so later, the music has faded and the arithmetic has come back. So here is what was promised, and what was said in reply.
The Promises
Al Jazeera reported that Andy Burnham gave his first Labour Party conference speech as Prime Minister on Tuesday 29 September 2026, having replaced Keir Starmer in July. It lists the following. A National Care Service, free at the point of use, described as person-centred and high-quality, with care workers given proper recognition. Changes to the triple lock on state pension rises, to be made by April 2030, after the next general election, and no income tax for low-income pensioners in the current Parliament. A lower deposit for home buyers. An end to the ban on public ownership of water companies, and a publicly owned Great British Grid for electricity. On foreign policy, steadfast support for Ukraine and opposition to threats from Russia and Iran.
The report adds context. UK annual inflation rose to 3.1 percent in the twelve months to August, up from 2.9 percent in July, according to the Office for National Statistics, and the government presents its first budget at the end of October. It quotes the Al Jazeera correspondent Milena Veselinovic describing the speech as containing a lot of fiery rhetoric and saying Britain is in a very dire position on finances. And it quotes Danny Sriskandarajah of the New Economics Foundation calling it a remarkable speech, saying Burnham seemed authentic and was tearful at moments, and adding that the main challenge is funding the promises.
The Funding Question
Funding the promises. I read that phrase and I laughed so hard that a biscuit fell on the rug. It is, after all, the oldest question in politics, and it is reassuring to see it asked by a supporter. The report does not give a cost for any of the five items, and I do not have one. A national care service free at the point of use, public ownership of water and a national grid are not trivial undertakings, and every serious economist in the country will want to see the sums. The Chancellor’s Budget on 28 October is where they should appear. I will say more when it does.
Which?, in a guide published on 28 September, notes that the Prime Minister has committed not to raise the main rates of income tax, and that details of the planned national care service are expected at the Budget. That is, I think, the most telling juxtaposition of the autumn: a promise to spend and a promise not to tax, set side by side on the same page. I am no wizard, but I have been to school, and I know that two lines on a graph cannot both go up forever.
The Triple Lock
I want to dwell on the pension item, because it has the most delicious structure. The speech, per the report, promises changes to the triple lock by April 2030, after the next general election. That is a promise with a date on it, and the date falls conveniently after the date on which voters will be asked what they think. My colleagues at prat.uk have observed the habit with affection. In the government defends the triple lock after economists discover that whichever number is highest is also an excellent way to run out of money, a title of unusual length and accuracy, they take apart the logic of a rule that picks the biggest of three figures every year. And in Britain’s triple lock pension explained, the government checks three numbers and proudly chooses the most expensive one, they make the same point in a different tone.
Neither is a news report. Both are comedy, and both have helped me to see the issue clearly. A rule that guarantees the highest of three numbers is a rule that was designed by someone who did not expect to pay for it.
The Water
The water promise raises another set of questions. The report says the speech would end the ban on public ownership of water companies. It does not say what compensation would be involved, what the transition would cost or how the debts of the existing companies would be handled. I do not know, and I will not guess. My colleagues have a short piece on the state of the industry, Thames Water, which I read as a reminder that the problem is serious, whatever one thinks of the proposed cure.
I do not say public ownership would be a disaster, and I do not say it would be a triumph. I say only that the burden of proof lies with the person proposing it, and that so far the proof is a sentence in a speech.
Authenticity
One more phrase from the report stays with me. The commentator said Burnham seemed authentic and was tearful at moments. I do not doubt the sincerity, and I do not want to be unkind about it. Politicians are people, and many of them mean what they say. But I note that sincerity and solvency are different virtues, and a country can have a great deal of the first and rather too little of the second. I would trade a little sincerity for a decent set of accounts, if offered the choice.
The biscuits are finished, which I take to mean that I have completed my costing exercise. Five promises, five biscuits, a plate that is empty and a rug that is crumbed. It is not rigorous, but it is no less rigorous than the speech.
What I Cannot Say
I cannot say how the promises will be delivered, what they will cost or whether Parliament will pass them. I can say what the sources report, and I have tried to do that carefully. The article is ten days old and the Budget is eighteen days away, and in politics a fortnight is a lifetime.
Closing Entry
I file for Bohiney Magazine, and my American readers ask whether British politicians ever talk about money. They do, usually in the second half of the sentence. For a guide to the comic tradition that holds them to account, my page on British satire is a good place to start, and for a wry end to the afternoon, Newsthump is a loyal companion. The rug is crumbed and the dog is hopeful. Goodnight, Diary. Cost the promise.
SOURCE: bohiney.com
