Review: How Westminster Works … and Why It Doesn’t

Ian Dunt: Weidenfeld & Nicholson

septentrionarius
The Cult of Stupid
5 min readDec 18, 2023

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Image of the book cover, showing a broken Elizabeth Tower.

Listening to both the ongoing manoeuvrings and agitations of Suella Braverman before her (far too long overdue) dismissal, the veritable batshittery of the Rwanda Bill, not to mention the background buzz of the proceedings of the COVID enquiry over recent weeks has been as depressing as it has been utterly predictable. All of these, and more, are symptoms of the dysfunctional way our political system now seems to operate. Part of the reason for that depression for me has been seeing it all mapped out in its crushing inevitability in this book. In one way you could see this as a good thing because it is, as one might expect, well written, wide-ranging and very well researched. The unhappy part comes from seeing all the failings described being played out wincingly, and very publicly, in real time, with real consequences, for all of us.

The problems seem to exist at almost every point, and Dunt’s extensive list of interview subjects all seem to know it, though they all seem either to feign powerlessness, want to blame someone else, or are unwilling or afraid to try to break out of the constitutional death spiral we find ourselves caught in.

The book starts out with a painful example of the failings of the system: Chris Grayling’s botched privatisation of probation services that began in 2013–14, showing examples of just how the process that got us there was broken. Using that example as a starting point, Dunt begins to walk through the Executive arm of our political system, beginning with getting elected to the Commons in the first place, before moving to ministerial positions, then to the dominant power axes of Downing Street and The Treasury. From there he discusses the links between the Executive, and the Civil Service, before moving to the rather murkier nexus of dealings between the government (mostly) and the press.

There is another interlude at this point, sadly perhaps even deadlier than Grayling’s probation fiasco, concerning the evacuation of Kabul in 2021. This serves to connect us back to ministerial accountability, the drafting of law and the role of the House of Commons in doing all of this. Dominic Raab does not come out of it well. The state of the Commons is related with a mix of disappointment and horror, seeing as it has become little more than a place to shout and performatively beat one’s chest, though there are kinder words for the Select Committee system, which does provide more measured scrutiny and oversight than the actual chamber itself.

The horrible truth is that none of these chapters make pretty reading.

Perhaps the most damning chapter of all is the penultimate one, about the House of Lords: a thing that is supposedly anachronistic, and is constantly threatened with being gutted if it does not fall in to line, but which represents the least diseased link in this whole chain, because it actually does its job. Even here though, there are alarm bells being rung, as Dunt recalls the events of 2021, when the Johnson government steamrollered the Dissolution of Parliament Bill through the Commons almost without a murmur, handing the power to call elections entirely to the Prime Minister of the day, and not the Commons itself. When the Lords pointed out how this could be used in bad faith, Johnson’s minons in the Commons pulled rank and told them to stay in their lane. A year later, when Johnson was cornered as a result of Partygate, and on the point of resignation, he used exactly this instrument of bad faith to threaten to call an election in precisely the way the Lords warned it would be used. But the reason this chapter is the most powerful is the way it finishes. It lays out all we have already seen, and shows us exactly how fragile, wobbly, and diseased the whole process of our “democracy” is that the most reliable countweight is this one, and even then its power to intervene is very tightly circumscribed, entirely because it is not an elected chamber. The irony that the unelected house is the most reasoned, sensible, and least in need of major reform is one not lost on me.

The last chapter proper outlines possible mitigations and solutions to some of these very serious woes. Helpfully, these are laid out in the same sequence as we walked through previously, so they can be addressed in the same order as they were described.

As one might expect in the current climate, post 2010 governments are treated with a scorn they very much deserve because of their ongoing contributions in getting us to this point. However, he is more even-handed than you might think, as some of the questionable decisions of the Blair era, and even some going back to the time of both Thatcher, and Wilson, have the rule run over them. In some cases there is even some praise (on the rare occasions) where it is due.

Part of the reason that things are so very messed up is that everyone involved can see what the problems are, and where they foul up the system. It’s just that at every single one of those choke points there are far too many people with a very powerful interest in making sure their specific domain remains as unchanged as possible. And that applies especially to Downing Street itself, which will never willingly surrender an executive power where it can avoid doing so. The salutary tales of the Brexit-related attempt at prorogation, or Johnson’s 2021–22 machinations seem not to have concentrated minds anywhere near enough, as we descend into yet more chaos created by the current seat-warmer, Sunak’s political ineptitiude. It’s fairly certain at this point that the Lords are going to play a significant role in the ongoing Rwanda soap opera for exactly the reasons described in the book: they will insist on amendments, so we’ll get a stand-off of some kind in the run-up to an election.

Some of the adjustments in this final chapter suggested are major, others less so. Some would result in significant changes to the ways MPs are selected, votes are counted, laws are passed, and government business done. Others yet are more subtle, such as proper non-partisan funding for local journalism to keep the reporting of local politics and government sustainable. But the key point of all, are in the last words of the final paragraph of that chapter: if we say nothing, there is no impetus for any change to happen. Nothing ever happened by relying on those in power to act out of a sense of largesse or altruism. Any change has to be pushed for, and is in our hands. It’s not comfortable read, by any means, but it is an essential one.

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