Othering oldies and the ideology of despair
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The Rose Garden setting for Sir Keir Starmer’s speech yesterday was deliberate. He stood in the destructive shadow of Partygate and Dominic Cummings, with his ill-fated press conference attempting to explain his day trip to Barnard Castle.
The Rose Garden also carries the legacy of the Cameron-Clegg coalition government, when the UK was introduced to the “ideology of austerity”. Austerity was not merely a fiscal policy, but a comprehensive framework that depicted the country’s financial woes as the result of profligacy and mismanagement, thereby justifying deep cuts to public services. The narrative was clear: the nation was in a dire state, and the only path forward was through shared sacrifice.
And much of that austerity narrative was indeed factual and a fair prognosis and prescription. The amount the sacrifice was shared is more contentious.
Yesterday, Keir Starmer seemed poised to introduce a new narrative—a different yet equally seismic ideology. Call it the “ideology of despair”. In his speech, Starmer painted a bleak picture of Britain, one that extends beyond finances to encompass nearly every aspect of life in the UK. This is a picture not merely of financial mismanagement but of societal collapse: riots fuelled by populism, finances in disarray, and public services—especially those concerning public order and prisons—at breaking point.
It is a bulk standard strategy for an incoming government, albeit a cynical one. By portraying the legacy of the previous government as utter destruction, Starmer positions himself as the only possible saviour. After all, if things are as bad as he describes, the only way forward is up. However, this approach carries risks. The danger lies in talking down the country, eroding public confidence, and sowing seeds of hopelessness.
The UK is in a unique position in the current global political landscape. Unlike France, the US, Italy, or Germany, the UK is politically relatively stable, at least for the next decade. This stability is underpinned by a Labour majority that is unlikely to be significantly challenged in the near future — as long as the right wing of UK politics continues to cannibalise itself in a civil war between Reform UK and the Conservative Party.
Even the much-lamented public finances, while problematic, are not as dire as they are often portrayed. The UK’s debt-to-GDP ratio, although high by historical standards, is still comparatively manageable compared to the G7. Britain’s relationship with its biggest trading partner, the EU, remains dysfunctional but has potential for improvement, with the Windsor Framework laying a foundation for better cooperation. On energy security, too, the UK has potential solutions on the horizon, particularly through offshore power projects in collaboration with the Crown Estate: something which could be as important to the future of the country as opening up the oilfields in the North Sea in the 1970s.
The ideology of despair might be effective as a temporary measure—a means to galvanise public support for necessary but painful reforms. However, without a vision of hope, this strategy risks deepening public disillusionment. David Cameron’s “Broken Britain” narrative served its purpose as a prelude to promised recovery, but when the promised light never materialised, the narrative itself became a self-fulfilling prophecy. The danger for Starmer is that he could fall into the same trap. By focusing so much on the darkness, he may forget to offer the light at the end of the tunnel.
Boris Johnson, for all his faults, understood the power of hope—it’s why he was one of the great campaigners of our time. His vision for the future, though based on foundations of sand, was full of optimism and grand plans but lacked substance. All sizzle and no sausage. These plans may have crumbled, but they resonated with a public desperate for a positive vision. Starmer, by contrast, risks telling us how terrible things are, pointing fingers, but failing to offer a clear and compelling plan for recovery.
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of this ideology of despair is the emerging trend of “othering” the over-65s. Starmer is not responsible for this, but he must tread carefully as there is a developing narrative that blames retirees for all society’s ills. A demographic group portrayed as having benefited disproportionately over the past 14 years—from rising house prices, triple-locked pensions, clinging onto bus passes, free prescriptions, and any number of “perks” for a generation which has grown rich and fat off the back of the post-war generosity of their parents, then borrowing from their children and mortgaging their grandchildren. Indeed, there is some truth in this narrative, based on statistical analyses, but setting one part of society against another is a dangerous game. Starmer risks feeding this narrative, intentionally or not, and stands accused of dog-whistle ageism.
As we approach Rachel Reeves’ budget in the autumn, the Prime Minister is preparing us for the pain that is coming. Starmer is like a pilot calling for passengers to move into the brace position for the inevitable crash, one that can conveniently be blamed on 14 years of Tory mismanagement. However, the budget must be the point where we are given a clear picture of the future and a definitive understanding of what Labour stands for. This vision cannot be about squeezing pensioners until the pips squeak. The withdrawal of the winter fuel allowance, combined with rising gas prices, will cause real hardship for millions. Labour’s vision has to explain what a more prosperous society looks like. It must be a vision of unity, not ageist othering.
In a time when the UK could stand as a beacon of stability in a tumultuous world, what it needs most is not an ideology of despair but a vision of hope. Starmer must move beyond merely criticising the past and instead offer a clear, optimistic plan for the future. Without this, his ideology of despair may lead to a future as bleak as the one it describes—a future where division deepens, and the light at the end of the tunnel remains forever out of reach.
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