Peter Franklin is an Associate Editor of UnHerd.
Did you know that Andy Burnham owes it all to Oliver Letwin?
In the early 2000s, the then Shadow Home Secretary was thinking about how to rehumanise the Conservative Party. The result of his deliberations was a series of speeches on the theme of the neighbourly society — still one of the best expositions of conservatism in the 21st century.
A few years later, when David Cameron became leader, the neighbourly society was rebranded as the Big Society. For a brief moment, the concept caught the public imagination and was even named Word of the Year in 2010.
Unfortunately, upon taking power, the Coalition government found that there was no money left. Much of the Big Society agenda fell by the wayside. But one part of it did produce real change — in fact, the most radical decentralisation of power to English cities beyond London since the 19th century. What made the difference is that Cameron appointed a dedicated minister for cities, Greg Clark, and gave him the cross-departmental clout necessary to broker a series of devolution deals between Whitehall and local authorities.
One of the outcomes of that process was the creation of a Mayor of Greater Manchester — together with a package of devolved decision-making powers that made the new position a meaningful one. And, of course, the first person to fill that role was Andy Burnham.
This is what gave Burnham the base from which to challenge and replace Keir Starmer. Without it he’d have been just another relic of the New Labour era. I don’t suppose he’ll publicly acknowledge his debt to Tory localism, but despite capturing Downing Street he has at least retained his commitment to decentralising power.
Or has he? One of his first acts as Prime Minister was the creation of Number 10 North — i.e. the relocation of a significant part of the Downing Street operation to a non-descript office block in Manchester. This, supposedly, is proof that he’s serious about doing government differently. After all, entrusting the devolution of power to a team that’s based 200 miles from London makes sense, doesn’t it?
Er, no. The best place from which to solve almost any problem is right up close to it. And in this case the problem is not in Manchester or Leeds or Liverpool, but in London because that’s where power is being hoarded by politicians and civil servants. To prise it out of their grasping hands, the decentralisation team needs to be on site in Westminster and Whitehall — working within and between departments to knock heads together and hammer out the necessary deals. By removing themselves to Manchester, they’ve made the task ten times harder — and the contradictions are already beginning to show.
Another cause for concern is Burnham’s promise to give English strategic authorities a share of income tax and council tax to spend on local priorities. That sounds promising, but what if the local priority is a tax rebate?
If Burnham really means what he says then, surely, he’d allow it. But, as it turns out, he wouldn’t. His approach to giving away power is akin to Henry Ford’s approach to consumer choice: “you can have the car in any colour as long as it’s black” (or in Burnham’s case, red).
One suspects there’s rather less to Labour’s localism agenda then meets the eye. Number 10 North isn’t even an original idea, but modelled on the Darlington Economic Campus — a northern branch of the Treasury set up by Rishi Sunak in 2023. If decentralisation were really happening then Whitehall ought to be getting smaller. Instead, it is extending itself by establishing colonial outposts in the North.
Decentralisation as controlled by Westminster and Whitehall is like “subsidiarity” as controlled by Brussels (or the chicken coop as controlled by the fox). What localism in England really needs is the domestic equivalent of Brexit. But what might that be?
Once again the answer can be found in the fertile Conservative thinking of the early 2010s — specifically, the 2014 ConservativeHome Manifesto.
This document contains a proposal for an English parliament. England would get what Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have had for years: an elected legislature, a dedicated executive and set of devolved matters under its control. The obvious unfairness of Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish MPs voting on English laws and choosing the de facto English government would end.
Obviously, the very last thing we need right now is more politicians and bureaucrats. However, the formation of an English parliament and government — and the corresponding changes to Westminster and Whitehall, could take place on a net minus basis. Overall, there’d be fewer elected representatives, ministers and officials than before.
Furthermore, an exodus of English government from London would make it easier — and cheaper — to undertake the long-delayed and jaw-droppingly expensive refurbishment of the Palace of Westminster. With so many matters devolved elsewhere, we’d only need, say, a third of the current number of Westminster MPs. They could all be accommodated within Portcullis House — the atrium of which could be used as a temporary debating chamber. That would allow a “full decant” of the Palace, thus simplifying and accelerating the necessary works.
Meanwhile, Whitehall would be reduced to the non-devolved departments only and could this be located entirely within the main government buildings on Whitehall itself (i.e. the street). So a smaller footprint in one of the world’s most expensive property markets.
Of course, none of this can happen unless an English parliament and government is physically established at a separate location. But where exactly?
It’s a geometric principle that any three points not in a line can be joined-up by a circle. If you do that for London, Edinburgh and Cardiff then the centre of the circle is Yorkshire. The city of York would make a fine location for an English parliament and government. Or we could harness the big move to an ambitious regeneration project in a smaller town. For instance, the scandalously under-appreciated Piece Hall in Halifax could serve as a spectacular anchor point for the new institutions.
Of course, England is a bigger country than Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland — and that any part of it is inescapably non-local to the others. So even if one agrees with the constitutional case for English devolution how is establishing a new centre for English government and democratic oversight going to help with the goal of decentralising power to local communities?
In three ways:
Firstly, because the new institutions of the devolved government don’t have to replicate the flaws of Whitehall system. For instance, instead of a default position in which all the power starts at the centre and some small part of it is subsequently decentralised, we could do it the other way round. Control over devolved matters could default to the responsibility of local communities, who’d then decide how much of it they’d want coordinated at a national level.
Secondly, the greatest single challenge in regional policy concerns the northern conurbation — that is the constellation of towns and cities centred on Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds and Sheffield. This could and should be as productive as other western European conurbations like Holland’s Randstad and Germany’s Ruhr. The fact that it is not is one of the great structural weaknesses of the UK economy and a symptom of chronic public and private sector under investment. Though an English parliament should concern itself with the whole of England, a location at the heart of the urban north could not be more strategic.
Thirdly, just being out of London will help. That’s not to do down our capital (or the wider South East, of which I’m a proud native) but rather to recognise its status as the greatest of global cities. Inevitably, the gravitational pull exerted on national decision making is overwhelming, especially when those decisions are made from within the event horizon. Just consider a counterfactual in which the big decisions on high speed rail had been made elsewhere. Would we have committed tens-of-billions-of-pounds to HS2 and the digging of tunnels beneath the Chilterns? Or might we have used the money to build modern mass transit between and within England’s other cities?
Finally, let me address the point that devolution to Scotland and Wales hasn’t exactly been a rip roaring success. That’s true, but then England isn’t Scotland or Wales — and it’s about time our constitution reflected that fact.