What makes a scandal “grubby”? It’s hard to tell, isn’t it? Try and think of how to explain the concept of a grubby little political scandal to someone now and you’ll see – it’s easier said than done. Grubbiness, I think, can’t really be theorised – an event either is or isn’t grubby. You just know it when you see it.
This is what I was thinking about over the weekend, watching foreign secretary David Lammy bravely attempt to defend Keir Starmer on Sky News. You see, it was fine for Keir Starmer and his wife Victoria to be dressed by a millionaire Labour Party donor.
Lord Alli spent nearly £19,000 on clothes and glasses for the prime minister, before and after the election, and he paid for a personal shopper, frocks and alterations for his spouse.
According to Lammy, this is all entirely normal. You see, the British prime minister has “no budget” for clothing, but leaders of countries like the US have a “substantial” one. Opposition leaders and PMs alike want to make a good impression on the world stage, so naturally they must turn to donors to get their suits and dresses.
Does this explanation convince you? Because I have to be honest: I watched Lammy do his thing on television and all I could think was “hmmm”. Hmmmm. His was a valiant attempt at spinning, but it left me unconvinced. Instead, hmmm.
This, friends, is what we call a grubby little scandal. It’s not the worst thing in the world. I wouldn’t take to the streets to shout about it. I wouldn’t even pretend to be irate for the sake of filling some column inches. Still, it’s just not great, is it?
We had years and years of Boris Johnson and his fellow travellers doing a thousand and one grubby little things, and it made the entire political sphere look diminished and embarrassing. While in opposition, Starmer promised, time and time again, that everything would be different if Labour were elected.
They would clean up politics and have clear missions and not let their government get mired in endless petty controversies. They would be different. The question is: are they really? There is no question that Starmer is a more principled man than, say, Johnson, but that’s one hell of a low bar.
What worries me is that Starmer has only been in Downing Street for a couple of months, but he is already showing signs of complacency, and falling for the alluring promise of entropy. “Of course, this thing or that thing is fine. It’s nothing, really! Just look at all the good we’re doing, and ignore those little bits of drama we’ve decided are entirely acceptable, and nothing to worry about.”
It is possible to be optimistic and believe that stories like this will be few and far between, and will not fundamentally shape the way the government runs the country. But it is hard to be optimistic about British politics in 2024. We’ve been there, done that, have the scars to prove it.
It is especially irksome because Starmer really made a point of appearing cleaner than clean while running for office. That he has been letting a millionaire buy him and his wife clothes is not some life-shattering betrayal, but it is a betrayal nonetheless.
People are sick and tired of politicians lying to them and doing as they please, and they have very little patience left. In other circumstances, it is possible that they wouldn’t have cared about such a grubby little story. Right now, however, optics really do matter.
This Labour government won in July because they told us they would be better than the people who came before them. They ought to be reminded that trust is easy to lose, and very hard to regain.
