The four worst words in British politics

Any touristsw1MPmpukGAB needs a few phrases to get by in a foreign land. Visitors to the Palace of Westminster are no exception. If someone says something ridiculous, reply that the idea is “for the birds”, an Americanism that is popular among inhabitants of and nowhere else in Britain. If someone has done something outrageous, suggest that perhaps they have “thrown a dead cat on the table”—a cunning ruse to distract from other matters. Most important, when asked about any controversial action by the government, simply reply: “It is not a good look.”It is a fail-safe phrase that can be applied to practically anything. Cancelling Latin lessons in state schools was “not a good look”, said one commentator. Jailing people for inciting riots online was “not a good look”, according to Nigel Farage, a populist upstart. Rich farmers whining about inheritance tax was “not a great look”, declared a radio host (using a common variation). Scrapping the winter fuel allowance of up to £300 ($375) for pensioners was, a lobby group insisted, “not a good look”. When Sir Keir Starmer, the prime minister, sacked Sue Gray, his chief of staff, after only a few months, that was “not a good look”. But when Ms Gray negotiated a pay package worth more than Sir Keir’s, that too was “not a good look”.No phrase better encapsulates the miserable state of Britain’s political discourse, in which perception always trumps actual policy. Debating whether something is a “good look” drowns out whether something is a good idea. Before Christmas, the government confirmed it would not offer compensation to women who say they were not properly informed that in 2018 their state-pension age would increase to 65, the same as for men. Backbench s griped to journalists. “A relative texted me and said, ‘What have you got against pensioners?’” said one, before adding, naturally, that it was “not a good look”. The notion of giving pensioners billions for failing to check their retirement age was crackers, but that fact was almost entirely absent from the debate. It is much easier to call something a bad look than a bad idea.The appeal of the phrase is obvious. s who rely on it can hide behind an imagined voter, rather than exercising their own judgment, reducing themselves to one-person parliamentary focus groups. For analysts, it offers a crutch of faux objectivity. Saying that a policy is wrong or immoral is banned for supposedly objective observers. So say it is a bad look to maintain your credentials as a shrewd political operative. Such an attitude breeds a cynical indifference to the consequences of politics. Whether things are actually important comes second to whether voters notice. If people found New Labour’s mantra in the 1990s that “What matters is what works” a dismal philosophy, then “What matters is what plays well” is even worse.If looking shrewd is the intention, the effect is often the opposite. A focus on appearances leads to naive analysis. Elon Musk, an American technomogul, is mulling donating up to $100m to Reform , the party Mr Farage leads. It would be a momentous sum for Britain’s poundshop politics, in which British politicians routinely debase themselves for a few thousand. Yet the debate shifted from an ethical question into the optical one of whether, if the government acted to block a donation, voters would see that as a stitch-up by the establishment trying to thwart a challenger. Britain is either happy to welcome money from the likes of Mr Musk or it is not. Refusing to ban it because it would appear unfair is the worst way to make a decision.Questions about judgment become ones about looks. Sir Keir’s love of freebies, which erupted over the summer after it emerged the soon-to-be prime minister had accepted well over £100,000-worth of clothes and free tickets to football matches and Taylor Swift gigs, was framed as a problem of perception. Jess Phillips, a junior minister, conceded it was not a good look. But the problem was not the perception; it was the reality. It was possible to purchase a couple of hours in the next prime minister’s company for the price of a few tickets at an Arsenal away game.If Labour is attacked for how it looks rather than how it governs, that is only fair. Sir Keir does have a clear political vision: one of a man folding his arms and tutting, for ever. While in opposition, Labour hammered Rishi Sunak, Sir Keir’s Conservative predecessor, for flying around the country in a helicopter. Perhaps the prime minister of a 7 country should be allowed to move from to quickly. No matter. A rich man in an expensive chopper? That’s a bad look, cried Labour.A politics based on appearance has its limits, as Sir Keir has found in office. Praise for his incoming government focused on its manner, rather than on its plans for power. Sir Keir was “reassuring”. He had made the party “credible”. Its politicians were “grown-ups”. For many, the main sin of Boris Johnson was not that he was an incompetent prime minister who made bad decisions. It was that he made Britain look bad. Mr Johnson was “not a good look” in human form. By contrast Labour offered, in Sir Keir’s own words, a platform to “Make Britain Serious Again”. It promised, in short, a good look.It was not a vision of politics that involved deep thinking about policy, which is why, after half a year in power, Labour still lacks a coherent programme of government. It has reduced itself to hiring a bunch of throwbacks from Sir Tony Blair’s government. Ironically, that government’s reputation as image-obsessed spin-merchants belied an obsessive focus on policy detail. By contrast, today Sir Keir oversees a government that knows it must look the part, but has little idea how to act it. Six months of stasis is the result. There is only one way to describe this: it is not a good look.