Frank O’Donnell
Turn on the news today and you’d think Keir Starmer’s government was unravelling.
More than 120 Labour MPs have signed a “reasoned amendment” opposing a £5 billion squeeze on disability and sickness benefits.
Commentators talk of cracks in party unity. Radio phone-ins rage about “betrayal”. Social media feeds churn through scenarios in which the whole policy collapses.
“So much for new Labour MPs being ultra-loyal Starmtroopers” one headline read.
But what if this isn’t a sign of failure? What if it’s what governing looks like when you finally try to do the hard stuff?
The UK has a lengthy charge sheet when it comes to leaving intractable policy issues on the shelf. House of Lords reform has been promised for decades. Council tax has gone untouched since the 1990s. Add housing, productivity, social care, and the unchecked rise of ultra-processed food – the list of avoided decisions is long. Too expensive. Too unpopular. Too complicated. The result: very little changes.
This welfare row is noisy. Emotional. Politically risky. Which is precisely why it matters.
The UK — and Scotland — faces a mounting pile of long-term structural problems. The NHS is overwhelmed. Education outcomes are slipping. Inequality is stubborn. Public spending is outpacing tax revenue. Behind the numbers sits a demographic reality that cannot be ignored: baby boomers are retiring, pushing up pension and care costs.
Economic inactivity – especially among those under 40 and with long-term mental health conditions – is rising, just when the tax base needs to grow.
The trade-offs are stark: reduced services, higher taxes, or unsustainable debt. Pretending otherwise isn’t compassion. It’s reality avoidance.
Solving any of these problems requires governments to do things that are unpopular and painful. Voters – that’s us – need to become more comfortable with that idea.
It’s tempting to believe that good government is smooth and popular. All first-term-Tony-Blair-smiles to a Britpop soundtrack. But popularity is not the same as effectiveness. Governments aren’t elected to keep people happy — they’re elected to tackle problems. And the biggest problems (of which there are many) rarely come with easy answers.
If anything, the absence of revolt and resistance should be a warning sign that nothing meaningful is happening.
In Scotland, 17 years of SNP government have been characterised by caution and risk aversion. Less SNP yellow, more political beige. Controversial reforms were shelved in favour of short-term stability and a focus on the constitutional prize of independence.
The result? Stagnation. Long NHS waiting lists. Falling educational standards and rising school violence. Anaemic growth. Appalling data on alcohol and drug deaths. A state that struggles to deliver and a whole generation that has grown up thinking this is all we can hope for from government.
The demands on the UK are rising relentlessly, including on defence. But the political bandwidth to deal with them has narrowed. Every tough decision is met with backlash, and every backlash is treated as a sign the government has overreached.
We need to flip that mindset. If ministers are trying to reform systems that aren’t working, whether that’s benefits, housing, planning or public services, then the discomfort they trigger is not necessarily a problem. It may be a sign of seriousness.
That doesn’t mean all rebellions are a sign of good policy. See Liz Truss for details. But similarly, revolt isn’t a confirmation that the policy direction is wrong.
What we must do is stop treating every sign of strain as evidence of failure. Policy reform creates noise. When stakes are high, we should expect principled disagreement, not fear it.
It’s easy for politicians to promise more without ever explaining how to pay for it. It’s harder to have honest conversations about trade-offs. Yet that’s exactly what responsible government demands. The courage to do the hard stuff — and the maturity, from all of us, to recognise when it’s necessary.
That is why this row should be reframed. A governing party willing to annoy its own supporters is at least trying to wrestle with reality. True reform creates losers first and winners later; the media news cycle stares only at the former. If ministers retreat at every squeal, spending will rise until the bond markets – not parliament – impose the haircut.
This row is messy and uncomfortable. But that’s not necessarily a sign that something’s gone wrong, it’s a sign something is finally happening.
If we want a country that works better, we’ll need politicians who are willing to take risks and, just as importantly, a public that’s ready to let them.
Can we have more of The Hard Stuff please?