Nigel was up (in Scotland). Nigel was down (in London). Robert was out (of the Conservatives). Robert was in (Reform). If ever a day in British politics deserved to be overlaid with the Benny Hill music, it was Thursday.
As always, commentary soon turned from what was happening, to what it meant. High profile defector – good for Reform. But Robert Jenrick – another Tory and the man with the leanest and hungriest look since Cassius… High profile defector – bad for the Conservatives. But Robert Jenrick – not a team player and the man with the leanest and hungriest look since Cassius… Pushing him before he jumped made Kemi look strong and powerful – no bad thing in a party many of whose members yearn for the smack of firm governance. Especially when administered by a female…
In truth, no-one knows. Everyone was guessing. As they had to. The nature of rolling news schedules abhors a vacuum. Commentators were saying things because there were voices in their ears screaming at them to say things. Whether they turn out to be true, well, we’ll all have forgotten by the time we are able to judge.
But politics abhors a vacuum too. One out must mean one in. And so, as the furore died down, Kemi announced that Nick Timothy would be her new Shadow Justice Secretary.
The timing was propitious. Timothy had led the charge over the policing of the Maccabi Tel Aviv – Aston Villa football match. A charge which had led to the Home Secretary declaring no confidence in the Chief Constable of the local Police. And eventually, but not without much gnashing of political teeth, his retirement.
This is not Mr Timothy’s first rodeo. He was Theresa May’s chief of staff when she was Home Secretary. He was her chief of staff when she was Prime Minister. He oversaw her election campaign in 2017.
Although it is sliding into the depths of our memories, the May administration did not go down in history as one of Britain’s more successful. It gained 8.8% of the vote at the 2019 European elections (after, to be fair, Timothy had left), currently the record low for one of the major parties. Records are, of course, made to be broken. Aren’t they, Labour?
Not that the 2017 election Timothy oversaw was much better. The Tories started with a polling lead approaching 20%, and beat Labour by just over 6% at the ballot box. They started with 330 seats, a majority, and ended with 317, not a majority. Until Rishi Sunak said, “Hold my beer,” in 2024, it was, by common consent, the worst campaign run by any major party in British history.
Asked what they had done for a boy from Brixton, the Conservatives once replied that they had made him Prime Minister. Asked today what they have done for a man whose fingerprints are all over a series of political disasters, their answer must be that they have put him in the Shadow Cabinet…
“Negative success” (as some LinkedIn “coach” has doubtless christened it) is a funny thing. Few people who fail think they have failed. After the initial bowel-melting moment of recognition, we pivot to deciding that we have been the victim of bad luck – could have happened to anyone. Or someone else messed up – it would all have been fine if it wasn’t for those pesky kids… The reason we get up eight times, is that we think we have been pushed over seven.
But we are a social species. Even if we do not think of ourselves as failures, we are aware that others, observing the devastation we have left behind, might. And that we cannot put up with. The only solution is to dust ourselves off, get back on the horse and show everyone that we are the world-historical success we all believe ourselves to be.
I have no access to the ongoings underneath Mr Timothy’s shiny dome, but I am not surprised that he decided to saddle up and give politics another go. A Telegraph column, no matter how well-remunerated, will not wipe away the mud of failure his time in office hosed over his escutcheon.
That does not, of course, mean that anyone should indulge him. In many spheres of human activity, no-one would indulge him. A football manager who took over the Premiership champions and got them relegated the next season, would not find himself spending long at the club, nor would he find Real Madrid knocking on his door. An investor who spends a couple of years propping up the league table (I’ve known a few) will, politely or not, be told that investing is not really his thing. And if he wants to carry on, he won’t be doing so with our clients’ money.
Meritocratic systems work not just by promoting the good, but by getting rid of the bad. It may be harsh, it may be brutal, but it ensures that, at any time, those involved have a good chance of being the best people who could be involved. And having the best people gives us the best chance of getting the best results.
It is a commonplace that politics is broken, that nothing works. That explains much of the attraction of Reform. It will replace “them” who have sat there too long for any good they have been doing with “us” who, even if we have never done it before, still think we know what we are doing. This may work, it may not work. But surely, as a matter of principle, they have a point. Why would anyone expect a system which just recycles poor performers, rather than flushing them, to produce good results?
Reform would doubtless take this article in the direction of “cozy Westminster clubs”, cabals of shadowy power-brokers and the like. That is their schtick and it seems to be working for them so far. We will not. Timothy could only be promoted because he had been elected. The fault lies not just with his leader, but with you, the voters (assuming you live in his constituency). The good burghers of West Suffolk looked at his track record and thought to themselves, “That’s the type of chap we want close to the levers of power”. (They previously elected Matt Hancock – there may be a theme here…). Really?
It didn’t matter that Mr Timothy had moved from failure to failure albeit never losing his enthusiasm. All that mattered was that someone slapped a blue rosette on him. That was enough. West Suffolk has only ever returned a Conservative, but if its voters are extreme, they are not unusual. Despite MPs’ protestations of “personal mandates” most electors just pop into the polling booth, find the party they always vote for and tick the box next to it, elections merely being another sphere in which “reasoned choice” is the name we apply to unthinking habit. Democracy truly is the theory that the people know what they want. And deserve to get it good and hard…
We have not praised Mr Timothy, but neither have we come to bury him. I can’t honestly say that, in his position, I wouldn’t have done the same thing. He is just the latest example of a deeper problem. The fault lies not just in our stars, but also in ourselves. If Ms Badenoch made the wrong choice in promoting him, the problem is that it was a choice she could make. In January 2025, she told voters the Conservatives would “again be the party of meritocracy”. We’re still waiting. But it couldn’t really be otherwise.
Stewart Slater works in Finance. He is now also on Substack, where you are welcome to follow him.
If you enjoy The New Conservative and would like to support our work, please consider buying us a coffee or sharing this piece with your friends – it would really help to keep us going. Thank you!
Like!