Memoirs of a 'decent' man

Sir Kier Starmer resigned the way he assumed power in the first place. By revealing a relationship with truth so estranged it would make Josef Stalin blush.

“Six years ago, I inherited a Labour Party that was politically, financially and morally bankrupt,” Starmer told the country outside Downing Street.

It is necessary to deal with each of these claims in turn by virtue of the fact that unless challenged, recent history becomes ossified into a straitjacket of received wisdom that fatally conditions what can be thought possible in the future.

Politically Bankrupt

In 2019, Labour under Corbyn, as Starmer and his acolytes never tired of saying, achieved the party’s worst showing since 1935, winning just 202 seats. Boris Johnson’s Conservatives  won 365 seats, their best performance since Thatcher’s victory coronation of 1987.

Apart from memory-holing the election just two years before in which Labour had somehow secured the largest increase in its vote since 1945, this warped interpretation conveniently ignores how 2019 was uniquely about one issue, Brexit. And Corbyn’s Labour, faced with a core support overwhelming backing Remain and 2/3rds of the actual constituencies it was defending having voted Leave, was trying to pull off the most delicate of balancing acts.

Its 2017 result partly stemmed from a promise to respect the result of the referendum. But this stance was made all but impossible by then shadow Brexit spokesman – Sir Kier Starmer himself – deliberately violating the agreed party policy and telling the 2018 Labour conference that he wanted a second referendum “and nobody is ruling out Remain as an option”. This led to the perception that Labour was a part of a ‘Remain alliance’ and doomed it in the eyes of many voters in ‘Red Wall’ constituencies, and elsewhere.

Starmer also torpedoed cross-party negotiations with the May government in 2018 over getting a Brexit deal through the Commons, even ruling out his own party policy on a customs union. Thus, he ensured that the hardest of all Brexit deals would be the one to succeed.

But as soon as he became Labour leader in 2020, the ‘King of Remainia’ went through a strange metamorphosis and declared that “Britain’s future is outside the EU” and all arguments about the issue belonged to the past. Clearly his previous stance was very principled, though, and not all an amoral strategy to displace Corbyn at all costs.

Notwithstanding Starmer’s antics, the 2019 election would still have been closer had not Nigel Farage’s ‘Brexit Party’ (actually a company, not a political party) chosen not to stand in 317 Conservative-held seats. This had the result of artificially inflating the Conservative vote share and probably their number of seats.

Curiously, the Conservatives, who must have received – according to Starmer’s interpretation – such a resounding mandate in 2019 (in contrast to Corbyn’s Labour), have since shrunk to a rump of 121 seats. Why they have plunged into such an ‘existential crisis’ in such a short space of time is something of a mystery, unless of course the issue of Brexit artificially hid their real popularity just as it artificially magnified Labour’s divisions.

Financially bankrupt

This is especially ridiculous. Labour in 2019 were flush with cash, on the back of surging membership numbers which peaked at 600,000. Starmer’s unique talent was to reverse this process by telling hundreds of thousands of people to leave (“the door is open”), or simply expelling them.

He then partially plugged this gap by suddenly becoming immensely appealing to very rich people (many of whom formerly donated to the Tories) and corporations. For example, Labour’s 2024 election campaign was bankrolled by a huge £4 million donation from hedge fund Quadrature Capital, the largest single donation the party had ever received. But because of when it was received – in the week after Sunak called the election but before the “pre-poll reporting period” – Labour didn’t have to publicly declare it during the campaign. And our fearless media didn’t bother to enlighten anyone.

Morally Bankrupt

Now we come to the crux of Sir Kier’s appeal to posterity. He was a ‘decent’ man, fighting against the odds to rescue the party he loved from the cesspit of antisemitism into which it had fallen under Jeremy Corbyn.

The truth is rather different. Starmer, as the public face of the right-wing ‘Labour Together’ faction, cynically used antisemitism allegations to purge thousands of left-wingers from the party whose only crime was to criticise Israel, a country which would go on to refute these criticisms by committing a genocide in Gaza.

Of course, Sir Kier was on hand to support what was happening, lay on surveillance flights over Gaza, and increase arms sales at the height of the killing.

The Starmer purge extended to Corbyn, forced out of the party for observing, correctly – even mildly – that the extent of antisemitism in the party had been “dramatically overstated” by political opponents and the media.

Under Starmer the totalitarian mentality so gathered pace that even suggesting that Labour wasn’t riddled to the core with antisemites was an offence punishable with expulsion. Victims of this witch hunt included a Jewish professor, hauled up charges of simply repeating a pun by another Jewish member of the Labour party (Jo Bird’s ‘Jew process’) and an elderly Jewish woman accused of, among other things, “demonising Israel by inaccurately [sic] describing it as an apartheid state”.

There is a definite ‘pattern of behaviour’ here. In fact, as leader, Starmer expelled more Jews from the Labour party than all previous Labour leaders combined. As Andrew Feinstein (Starmer’s opponent in Holborn & St Pancras in 2024) pointed out, that is like expelling people of colour to combat racism.

In truth, the one decent thing that Sir Kier Starmer did was resign. Everything else was appalling.

Starmer’s handmaidens

But it would be wrong to see Starmer’s momentary ascendancy as being solely down to the man himself, once generously described as “a piece of hotel art made man”. Nor was his brief reign merely the responsibility of his sponsors in the shadowy Labour Together group, likened in their amorality to the denizens of Richard Nixon’s White House.

There had to be other powerful forces behind the strange phenomenon of Sir Kier Starmer and there were – the British media and important parts of the British state.

At every stage of his political career, the media had Starmer’s back, because, in essence, he had a job to – to destroy Corbynism at its roots. For example, every national media organisation (barring the Morning Star) enthusiastically backed Starmer’s decision to suspend Corbyn from the Parliamentary Labour party for his response to the Equality and Human Rights Commission report.

The EHRC report was itself a sham, though. It deliberately refused to hear evidence contradicting its interpretation, erroneously described those guilty of ‘antisemitism’ as being ‘agents’ of the party, and accused the Corbyn leadership of acting unlawfully by riding roughshod over ‘established procedures’ to intervene in individual cases, when the party’s rule book explicitly allowed it to.

When the circumstances cried out for investigative journalism, all you got was consecration. And a herd of braying donkeys.

Conversely, when Starmer did subsequently furiously intervene in antisemitism cases to expel the (left-wing) perpetrators forthwith – something the EHRC (wrongly) said the Labour leadership was not allowed to do – there was complete media silence.

And when Starmer jerked Labour massively to the Right, after being elected as Labour leader by promising to continue with Corbyn’s policies, the media response was largely to commend him for practising clever politics.

Sometimes the cognitive dissonance was breathtaking. One of Starmer’s pledges  to members when he was campaigning to be elected Labour leader was to “end the Tories’ cruel sanctions regime”. In reality when he got into government, not only did he fail to do this, he actually made it worse, increasing sanctions to their highest ever level in January 2026. According to an Amnesty spokesperson, “I’ve worked to highlight human rights violations for more than two decades and witnessed many awful situations. But never have I encountered such raw and widespread distress from people sharing their experiences in the UK.”

But, to the British media, this world, which affects millions of people, simply doesn’t exist.

And the media omertà about Starmer spread its tattered net far wider. The successful campaign by Starmer backers Labour Together to hamstring left-wing media organisations like The Canary after 2017 by getting advertisers to withdraw on the laughable basis of not supporting ‘fake news’ happened, at the time, completely in the shadows. Anti-Corbyn Labour bureaucrats’ scheme to funnel money to right-wing MPs in 2017 at the expense of the official campaign barely registered. And Starmer’s predilection for money and freebies from high-net-worth individuals and corporations to fill the financial void left by members deserting in droves was, almost without exception, left to the alternative media, who had a far smaller reach, to expose.

The 40-watt searchlights of the mainstream media continued their feeble glare after 2024. Starmer Labour’s 2025 deal with pharmaceutical corporations, which will double the amount the NHS pays for drugs, trampled all over the independence of NICE, the body that decides whether drugs are cost-effective and should be paid for by the NHS. But the deal was presented in entirely vanilla terms by the media, thus concealing what it was really about.

Our strange form of democracy – really oligarchy accompanied by ratification by universal suffrage – has left us in a paradoxical situation. Powerful and wealthy vested interests decide who can, and cannot, have political power (not Corbyn for example) but voters then cast their judgement on them. The result has been seven Prime Ministers in the last decade.

The fact that no-one of influence can see the problem is why they inflicted Sir Kier on us and expected it to work.

'Labour', lobbying and the de-corporatization of society

The ‘Labour’ party are a bunch of corporate lobbyists with a political party attached. And that includes its white knight, Andy Burnham.

Just before Labour won the 2024 election, Rachel Reeves reassured an invited audience of leading corporate representatives that “your fingerprints are all over every one of our national missions”.

She wasn’t exaggerating.

One of those fingerprints belongs to the “Prince of Darkness” Peter Mandelson, now charged with “misconduct in public office” stemming from his best buddy relationship with sex offender, Jeffrey Epstein. In 2010 he co-founded the now defunct lobbying firm Global Counsel. The aim was to exploit his seminal place in the modern Labour party and help corporations “see opportunities in politics, regulation and public policy”.

A Freedom of Information request from journalist Solomon Hughes reveals that Global Counsel was still hosting soirees and breakfasts for its business clients and representatives of the UK government less than a year ago.

Attendees on the lookout for “opportunities” included financial services behemoth JP Morgan and drugs giant GSK (formerly GlaxoSmithKline). Among the subjects discussed was NHS drug pricing.

Curiously, a few months later – in December 2025 – the government announced a deal with the US over how much the NHS pays for pharmaceuticals (bought mainly, though not exclusively, from American corporations). The agreement – intended to avert the axe of Donald Trump’s sanctions – saw the NHS committed to paying 25% more for new medicines and to increase what it shells out for existing drugs.

Under its terms, the NHS is also compelled to double its spending on new medicines from 0.3% to 0.6% of GDP by 2035.

It is estimated the cost will come to £64 billion.

Inevitably, given the government’s “iron-clad” commitment to fiscal rules, the money will be diverted from patient care. According to one health economist – Karl Claxton who led a research term at York University to model potential outcomes – by 2033 excess deaths as a result of the deal will be greater than in the first two years of Covid.

“The government faced a clear choice,” Claxton said, “either back the NHS and adult social care and stand up to these pressures, or don’t. And it decided not to.”

In another strange coincidence, in November 2025, JP Morgan announced plans to build a skyscraper new HQ in Canary Wharf. The decision owed a lot to the deal, negotiated by the Treasury and Tower Hamlets council, to provide the bank (which is clearly short of cash) with a 100% discount on business rates.

Also oiling the wheels was Rachel Reeves’s commitment not to increase taxes on banks in her autumn budget (just on everyone else) following a meeting in Number 11 with Goldman Sachs.

It wasn’t thought necessary to call in a police forensic team to sweep the room for fingerprints.

The lobbying impulse is so deeply ingrained in the ‘Labour’ party that glaring conflicts of interest pass without a second look. Mandelson was UK Ambassador to the US during the NHS drug pricing negotiations. All through this time, he remained president of Global Counsel which represented GSK and JP Morgan. His firm actually undertook research for the Association of the British Pharmaceutical Industry “making the case for many of the changes ultimately secured in the deal”.

According to a whistleblower, Mandelson vetted Labour candidates for the 2024 General Election. Just to make doubly sure no unsavoury characters slipped through the net.

Doubtless the memory of Jeremy Corbyn gave him the jitters but he needn’t have been so careful. Research before the election was called revealed that 10% of confirmed Labour candidates were employed as corporate lobbyists and communication advisors. And according to an article in The Times, a third of actually elected Labour MPs have a background in lobbying. “It was”, said the author, “the most common past job for an MP – far outstripping trade unions, teachers or doctors”.

And if they manage to climb a few rungs up the greasy pole, they are sure to run into former colleagues. Secondees from lobbying firms work with senior Labour ministers such as Rachel Reeves and Jonathan Reynolds. Mandelson’s Global Counsel spent £36,000 paying for a staff member to work with former Treasury minister Tulip Siddiq for a year.

When the former Scottish Labour leader, Jim Murphy, (the electoral mastermind oversaw Labour haemorrhaging 40 seats in Scotland in the 2015 GE), predicted that Starmer’s government would be “the first private sector government in Labour history”, he was, if you’ll excuse the pun, right on the money.

Of course, Manchester Mayor Andy Burnham wants to return to Parliament, oust Sir Kier, and “change” Labour (a word you may have heard somewhere before).

The fact that the lying/snooping Labour Together faction that put Starmer in power in the first place are the very people that are beating out the path for Burnham to return to Parliament should invoke a healthy degree of scepticism.

Burnham has already rowed back on his lament that Britain is “in hock to the bond markets”, promising to stick to Reeves’s fiscal rules and replacing rhetoric about renationalising utilities with merely instituting ‘stronger public control’.

But even if Burnham was sincere in wanting to send the lobbyists scuttling away from the husk that remains of the ‘Labour’ party, it would take a lot more than the good vibes he is promising to do it – for Labour not to roll over but, in the words of Karl Claxton, “stand up to these pressures”.

The huge increase in the amount to be paid by the NHS for branded drugs agreed to by Labour was not merely the fruit-bearing result of a concerted campaign by bands of lobbyists. It was also preceded by real-world threats to withdraw investment by pharma companies (interestingly, that weren’t all American and thus backed by Trump). What, in old-fashioned language, used to be called a ‘capital strike’. In the words of a Bureau of Investigative Journalism report:

Then, over the course of a single week in September, the dominoes began to fall. One company after another threatened to pull major UK projects: MSD scrapped a £1bn London research centre; AstraZeneca paused a £200m project in Cambridge; Eli Lilly parked a planned London lab. In response to concerns that the pharma giants had colluded in a bid to bump up drug prices, the Competition and Markets Authority said it had decided not to investigate.

A fortnight later, AstraZeneca threatened to quit the London Stock Exchange and move to the US.

In a similar vein, JP Morgan – in spite of the 100% business rates relief sweetener and the promise of no new taxes on banks – has threatened to back track on the building of its new HQ if Sir Kier is replaced by someone “hostile to banks”.

Even if the government were full of – to use Tony Blair’s phrase from 1997 – “whiter than white” individuals with impeccably sturdy backbones, they would, in all certainty, cave in to these demands, followed by an immediate impulse to reach for the shelf containing ready-made excuses about economic growth and saving jobs.

Unless they had an alternative economic strategy to hand.

The only way not to give in to this blackmail is to follow the logic (if not necessarily the publicly announced policies) of Corbynism. To set up a publicly owned drug research and production enterprise to sell at cost to the NHS, thus saving billions for patient care.

More broadly, the entire NHS needs to be renationalised and freed from incremental privatisation.

But it doesn’t end there. Profit maximising banks who, despite the events of 2008, push for renewed deregulation and new ways to be subsidised by the public need to feel the stiff breeze of competition from a publicly-owned investment and retail bank.

And the only real answer to tax havens – likened by the writer Thomas Frank to an “unseen planet” pulling politics and economics inexorably rightwards – is the withdrawal of limited liability which is granted by the state. Without the state, whom corporations incessantly lobby, they are nothing. It is their hidden Achilles’ heel.

The only way to make such a threat credible is to create publicly owned, cooperatively-run companies that can compete with shareholder-driven corporate leviathans and take their place should the latter’s legal ‘person-hood’ be rescinded. Such companies will openly and willingly pay their taxes and won’t try to financially exploit the local or central state or hollow it out through privatisation.

The fork in the road we are now facing is between shades of corporate fascism, based on deportation of immigrants, the crushing of dissent, endless deregulation, and minimal taxes for the super-rich, and something else. That something else is socialism, which will eventually dawn on people who would never think of themselves as socialists.

The If Only Theory of Contemporary Capitalism

 

According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), the closure of the Strait of Hormuz has precipitated “the largest oil supply disruption in history”, eclipsing the oil shocks of the 1970s in severity.

We are like the characters in the film On the Beach (about Australians waiting for the radiation from a nuclear war to reach them), biding our time before the effects seep through. Clearly, not only industries that directly consume oil will be affected. As fertilizers rely on natural gas for their production, decimated crop yields and ensuing food shortages – in addition to flight cancellations and severe inflation – will become the norm.

Bankers JP Morgan predict global oil inventories will hit “Operation Floor” – when oil production stops functioning – in September.

Already faced with 1970s-style stagflation (weak GDP growth and inflation), economies will soon have to deal with slumpflation (falling growth and inflation) says economist Michael Roberts.

This will happen regardless of whether there is a “final agreement” with Iran.

But doom-laden concentration on the inevitable effects of war clouds our judgement. It leads to the feeling that if only these random geopolitical shocks didn’t happen, everything would be fine.

But maybe, rather than being the root cause of crisis, a ‘shock’ like the closure of the Strait of Hormuz is merely exposing fault-lines that were already there.

And maybe there’s a mutually reinforcing dynamic at work. In that the weakness of the economic system generates geopolitical responses which have the effect of further enervating the economy.

Looking again at the oil shock of October 1973 – up until the halting of shipping in the Strait of Hormuz, the worst disruption of the global oil industry in history according to the IEA – is instructive. This older shock involved an oil embargo on countries like the US and UK and a fourfold increase in the price of oil.

Unquestionably this ‘triggered’ a financial crisis and a recession in 1974-75, the first year-on-year fall in output in the West since the Second World War.

But if the problem was merely external (a large increase in the price of oil) once it abated, things should have returned to ‘normal’ i.e. steadily increasing growth and prosperity. But that’s not what happened.

According to historian David Gibbs, the crisis resulted decades’ long flat productivity growth in the US and impaired economic performance in most of the rest of the world

“If you look at long-term rates of GDP,” he says, “it was quite high up until 1973 and in 1973 you see a big drop. And rates of economic performance have never fully recovered from the earlier period.”

It was “a historic break point”.

The same illusion of the primacy of the external cause can be seen in attitudes towards the Global Financial Crisis of 2008. The crisis was caused, so goes the official story, by reckless bank lending leading to a seizing up of credit that the rest of the economy relies on. Now those causes no longer apply, businesses can get credit and the big banks, largely thanks to huge doses of Quantitative Easing, are no longer insolvent.

But if you look at UK economic growth in the pre- and post-crisis period, it is clearly debilitated, less than half as strong. In the 18 years since the 2008 crisis, the economy has grown by 22% compared to 53% growth in the 18 years before it.

Why should this be? Why, once the causes of the crisis are dealt with, should the crisis linger on, not in full-on crisis mode but in enfeebled performance?

Possibly because there was far more to the crisis than revealed by its surface ‘causes’.

To take medical analogy, if a person survives a heart attack but goes on to suffer worsening heart failure – not being able to walk far with running out of breath – the underlying problem should obviously be put down to heart disease, not sought in the particular circumstances that brought on the original heart attack.

But we do precisely this with the economy, continually, as economist Harry Shutt once said, mistaking symptoms for causes.

The former head of Goldman Sachs says he can “smell” a new financial crisis in the offing. This won’t happen, 2008-style, through the banks but in the burgeoning private credit industry where companies, such as private equity firms, lend to other companies.

If it does erupt, what will provoke this crisis will be a rise in interest rates to try and tamp down the inflation caused by the closure of the Strait of Hormuz.

According to chief economist of the World Bank, “the war is hitting the global economy in cumulative waves: first through higher energy prices, then higher food prices, and finally, higher inflation, which will push up interest rates and make debt even more expensive.”

But the external cause won’t explain the crisis. To do that we first need to explain why the global economy in the 21^st century is so much more dependent on trade (i.e. globalised) than it was 50 years ago. Trade now represents about 60% of world GDP compared to 25% in 1970.

Then we need to consider the fact that the economy is much more deregulated than last time, a process which is ongoing. Finally, we need to factor in that the economy runs on huge levels of corporate and personal debt, which makes it so much more susceptible to any increase in the cost of debt (i.e. through higher interest rates).

And these causes are in turn related to the ending, caused by the oil shock of October 1973, of the “thirty glorious years” of strong economic performance after World War Two, and why that turned out to be a “historic break point”.

You cannot understand external shocks like the interruption of the ‘life-blood’ of oil supplies without also understanding how, internally, we are more vulnerable to their effects.

Zero points, shit in rivers, and weeping at Margaret's grave

I got an uncanny feeling of déjà vu when watching the recent Channel 4 drama about water company pollution, Dirty Business

A teacher, Reuben, gets an infection when surfing in sewage encrusted waters. Periodic attacks involving writhing on the floor and vomiting mean he has to give up his job. He applies for disability benefits but gets zero points because, as the assessor keeps repeating, when he is not having an attack, he functions normally (3^rd episode, 20.43).

You can see the tired resignation creep across Reuben’s face, as he realises that the fact he does have regular attacks which make him unemployable is completely irrelevant to the assessment.

This is so evocative of the hundreds of thousands of sick and disabled people deemed fit for work points in the roll-out of the Work Capability Assessment under the Con-Lib Dem coalition. They got zero points too because although they couldn’t do any job that existed in the real world, by reaching above their head or into their top pocket once, they revealed that they could do an entirely abstract form of work.

At the time, there were futile calls for a real-world test to take account of what jobs actually demanded people could do repeatedly (as jobs tend to). But these were slammed down by the government in the shape of employment minister Chris Grayling who declared himself “absolutely, unreservedly and implacably” opposed to such a real-world test.

Current Labour DWP enforcer Pat McFadden doesn’t need to signal his opposition to a real-world test – it’s taken as read that it’s a total non-starter. The unbending focus now is on reducing the numbers of people qualifying for Personal Independence Payments (PIP) (which is what the teacher in Dirty Business applies for) despite the fact that 300,000 claims a year are rejected.

Labour did want to make the PIP criteria much tougher, something even Iain Duncan Smith found too much to stomach, but plans were put on hold as a result of an unexpected rebellion of backbench drones. But they will undoubtedly be repackaged as a result of the Timms Review now out for consultation.

Nothing better illustrates the duopoly afflicting the allegedly adversarial British political system than the treatment of sick and disabled people. The default consensus that they are ‘taking the mickey’ and deserve to be punished for having the temerity to have something wrong with them, which is probably half in the mind anyway.

The attitude, as John Pring shows in The Department, can be traced back to the dog days of the Thatcher administration, when health minister and “Mr Privatisation” John Moore wrote to chief secretary to the Treasury John Major, saying rising spending on sickness benefits needed to be tackled, with ‘no choice’ but to make ‘long-term savings’.

In the old system, i.e. invalidity benefit which existed before the testing regime began in the early ’90s, the ‘overriding consideration’ had been one of reasonableness, with the claimants’ ability to work measured against jobs which existed in the real world.  But that is a bygone era in British history. Hence the assessor’s monolithic insistence that when the ex-teacher in Dirty Business was not having a debilitating attack, he was perfectly able to do a job. The fact that vanishingly few employers would want to employ someone who involuntarily squirmed around on the floor every week, being sick everywhere, is not the state’s problem.

Have a nice day.

As of the beginning of this month, new claimants in the Limited Capacity for Work Related Activity Group of the Health element of Universal Credit (formerly Employment and Support Allowance) will have to survive on £50 a week, a nearly 50% cut from the £97 they previously received. This is so the ‘perverse incentive’ to apply for sickness benefit is removed. Actually, there is now a ‘perverse incentive’ to say there is nothing wrong with you even though there is, to ensure against the possibility that you will be judged unfit for work and placed in the LCRWA group.

This, in case you needed any reminder, is being carried through by a ‘Labour’ government. I remember being told in 2020 – by some young careerist working his way up the greasy pole at a meeting to choose the Labour leadership candidate which the CLP I was in would support – to “think of the most vulnerable person” I knew and then cast my vote for Sir Kier Starmer.

What he forgot to say was that if I harboured some sadistic desire to make them suffer even more, I should vote for Starmer.

As Dirty Business makes clear, there is a unity of purpose between the ‘Labour’ party and the Conservatives, which was briefly under threat in the four years before 2020 (which now resemble some strange hallucination). And the wretched consensus is not merely about how to treat the chronically ill.

As the programme recalls, David Cameron promised to tear up 3,000 pieces of needless regulation in order, he claimed, to release the growth potential of the British economy. Over a decade later, Starmer wrote to all 17 regulators in the UK telling them to relax rules for companies. This has resulted in a steep decline in enforcement actions, as they obediently scrabble to fall into line with the government’s so-called growth agenda.

And where has this deregulatory mania got us (aside from turds in rivers that is)? In the 18 years after the Financial Crisis of 2008, the economy has grown by 22% (an average rate of under 1%), while in the 18 years prior to 2008 it grew by 53% – more than twice as fast (and that record was terrible compared to the social democratic post-war years). But do carry on, won’t you.

We are in the grip of necrophile Thatcherism and it’s killing us. Some more than others, admittedly.