Conspiratorial narratives have always swirled around the corridors of Number 10. Studies of the British style of government have, for decades, explored the role of unofficial briefings and the leaking of information to embarrass colleagues or put an issue on the agenda.

Recent allegations of a plot by associates of Keir Starmer were designed to smoke out a perceived impending leadership challenge to the prime minister, and focused attention squarely on Wes Streeting who denied being involved in a plot.

It was a pre-emptive strike in the form of a briefing strategy in an attempt to forestall a phantom coup. This odd episode quickly fizzled out. But now the furore has calmed down, a question emerges: what does it tell us about the state of Starmer’s government and British politics more generally?

The answer is that it points to the emergence of a new and increasingly paranoid style in British politics—one which revolves around exaggeration, suspicion and conspiratorial fantasy.

The notion of a paranoid style was first developed by historian Richard Hofstadter in relation to American politics, especially in the context of fears of communist sympathies during the early cold war. Put simply, it describes a model of political reasoning in which everything is seen through a conspiratorial lens.

All prime ministers are paranoid. Such paranoia comes from having to sit and smile around a cabinet table when you know that most of your hyper-competitive colleagues hanker after your job.

John Grigg’s biographies of the first world war prime minister David Lloyd George suggest he was generally convinced his colleagues were always about to oust him. Anthony Eden entered into a paranoid atmosphere over what became the 1956 Suez canal crisis that saw Britain humiliated on the world stage.

Harold Wilson governed with a profound and persistent suspicion about the security services, and in the the late 1960s his levels of paranoia spiked whenever Roy Jenkins received positive reviews for his helmsmanship of the Treasury. Towards the end of her time in No. 10, Margaret Thatcher developed a fortress mentality based on a belief that ministers were “not on her side”.

If this is the traditional or “old” style of paranoia, Starmer is now projecting something very different. His is not a paranoia primarily born of concern for external threats or stalking horses. It reflects a deeper awareness that a vacuum exists at the apex of British government, and at some point this weakness will lead to a challenge.

Being a vanilla politician was good for Starmer in opposition. Being bland, avoiding contentious topics and promoting pragmatism provided very little for opponents to attack. But there is a widespread feeling in Westminster that, in office, the lack of clear ideological conviction has left the government rudderless and notably unable to offer the British public a positive vision about where they want to take the country and why (and at what cost).

It is in this context that Starmer now faces more challenges from backbench Labour MPs, after unveiling an overhaul of the UK’s asylum policies. Not a good position for a prime minister with the worst popularity ratings since polling began.

Systemic conspiracism

For Hofstadter, a paranoid style was characterised by apocalyptic crisis language, conspiratorial explanations of political events and attribution of national decline to hidden forces. It involved moral dualism (“patriots v traitors”) and an existential sense of dispossession (“the country is being stolen”).

See the link to British politics? Think I’m paranoid?

This paranoid style is not linked to an individual politician’s supposed clinical or psychological condition. This is systemic conspiracism, not personal suspicion.

It emerges out of a wider social-psychological pathology and a collapse in trust in the institutions and processes of democratic politics, combined with the social amplification of siege narratives that constantly promote polarisation.

Since Brexit, this paranoid style has become normalised in Britain. A country once famed for its stability, governing competence and broadly balanced civic culture is now dominated by a paranoid culture. Unlike historical instances that were confined to individual leaders, this is now diffuse, populist-inflected and embedded across the political spectrum.

This is the deeper story that exists behind bungled briefings—and it’s a worrying one. It risks generating permission structures for norm-breaking, accelerating radicalisation and polarisation, weakening policy capacity and fuelling a doom loop cycle of failure—which creates more paranoia.

The climate of British politics has and is therefore changing. It is in recognising this broader shift that we can have a deeper understanding of the slow death of Starmer’s government. The old rules no longer apply, and the “good chaps” don’t know how to govern.

Or maybe I am just paranoid.

-The Conversation 

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