Andy Burnham's Big Promises – Now Comes the Difficult Part

Andy Burnham in 2012 (Photo: Andrew Page)

Britain has a new Prime Minister.

Andy Burnham becomes the seventh person to lead the country in little more than a decade, inheriting a nation that is weary not only of economic stagnation and overstretched public services but of politics itself. His first speech outside Number 10 recognised that reality with unusual honesty.

"I am acutely conscious that I am the sixth person in the last 10 years to walk up this street... I know people at home are fed up with politics. I hear you and I want to be honest with you: we have not been good enough and we need to be better."

On that point, he is undoubtedly correct. British politics has become a merry-go-round of leaders, slogans and relaunches. Every incoming Prime Minister promises to reset politics, only for the cycle to repeat itself. Burnham deserves credit for acknowledging that voters have lost faith, not just in one government or one party, but increasingly in politics as a whole.

The difficulty is that recognising the problem is the easy part.

Burnham spoke of "raising our game" and "rising to the new challenge", but slogans alone will not restore political stability. Stability is not created simply because a Prime Minister wishes for it. It comes from competent government, ministers who stay in post long enough to master their briefs, institutions capable of long-term thinking, and a political culture that values evidence over headlines.

Nor is this simply about Burnham himself. He inherits a government whose own MPs effectively concluded that their strongest leadership option lay outside Westminster, requiring the Mayor of Greater Manchester to win a parliamentary by-election before he could enter Downing Street. That is hardly a ringing endorsement of Labour's existing ministerial talent. Changing the person at the top is one thing. Changing the culture of government is quite another.

A "circuit breaker" – or another slogan?

Burnham's second major point was characteristically ambitious.

"We will make this moment a circuit breaker for Britain, bringing forward the biggest changes in the last 40 years."

The phrase "circuit breaker" may have brought uncomfortable memories of Covid restrictions for some, but the bigger issue is not the language. It is the substance. How exactly will Britain be different? What are these "biggest changes"? Why should voters believe this government will succeed where so many others have failed?

Every Prime Minister promises transformation. Burnham is no exception. The real question is whether he possesses the policy ideas—and the political capital—to deliver meaningful change within what may prove to be a relatively short window.

There is an obvious reason this matters. If Burnham becomes yet another failed Prime Minister, the consequences will not simply be another Labour leadership election. The most likely beneficiary of another collapse in public confidence is Reform UK. Labour MPs know this is probably their final opportunity to demonstrate that their party can solve Britain's problems.

Burnham cannot simply buy himself time. He does not have it.

Has Andy Burnham changed?

One of the more interesting parts of Burnham's speech was his critique of Britain's economic direction since the 1980s:

"Britain took some wrong turns... We will change politics to make it more collaborative, more about problem solving than point scoring."

There is much in this that liberals should welcome. Britain is one of the most centralised democracies in the developed world. Successive governments have concentrated power in Whitehall while starving local government of both resources and autonomy. If Burnham genuinely wants to devolve power, strengthen communities and move away from tribal politics, Liberal Democrats should support him.

But there are also reasons to be cautious.

Burnham's attack on "neoliberalism" undoubtedly resonates with sections of Labour's membership, yet it also risks rewriting his own political history.

I have met Andy Burnham on three occasions over the years.

The first was when he addressed students at my college. In response to a question from me, he enthusiastically defended Patricia Hewitt's NHS reforms—Private Finance Initiatives, Foundation Hospitals, Payment by Results and greater private sector involvement. These were among the defining policies of New Labour's market-based reforms and are self-evidently neoliberal by nature.

The second was at a Labour Party event in 2008, when I was a Labour member. Burnham came across as personable, charismatic and an effective campaigner, but also unmistakably tribal. His instinct seemed to be that the interests of the Labour Party and the interests of the country were one and the same. That will simply not work as Prime Minister.

The third was while I was working as a photographer at Labour Party Conference in 2012 (during the Coalition years). Again, he spoke proudly of the Blair and Brown governments and defended their achievements. There was no talk then of ditching neoliberal economics, not of the failure of Labour leaderships.

On each occasion he impressed audiences. He is warm, approachable and considerably more human than many senior politicians. That authenticity may prove to be one of his greatest strengths as Prime Minister.

Yet I never came away with a particularly clear understanding of what Andy Burnham believed beyond loyalty to Labour itself. 

Perhaps he has genuinely changed; politicians do evolve, and they should be allowed to do so. But if Burnham now rejects aspects of New Labour's legacy, it is reasonable to ask what has replaced it. What exactly does he mean by moving beyond neoliberalism? What economic model does he now advocate? How would it differ from both Thatcherism and Blairism?

At the moment, the rhetoric is considerably clearer than the policy.

Another ten-year plan

Burnham also announced:

"Later this year, I will bring forward a new plan for Britain—a ten-year plan."

It is impossible not to notice the irony.

Much of Burnham's speech sought to distance himself from the failures of recent governments, yet few things have become more associated with political disappointment than grand multi-year plans unveiled by incoming Prime Ministers. The phrase itself has become something of a warning sign. 

That does not mean long-term thinking is undesirable. Quite the opposite. Britain desperately needs governments willing to think beyond tomorrow's newspaper headlines. Housing, social care, education, infrastructure and preventative healthcare all require sustained investment over many years. But what will actually be in this plan? Will it command support beyond the Labour Party? Will it include meaningful constitutional reform, genuine devolution of power, reform of social care, serious housebuilding and electoral reform? Or will it simply become another shopping list designed primarily to satisfy Labour activists?

A plan is only as valuable as its credibility.

Ending rough sleeping

Perhaps Burnham's most eye-catching promise was his "first instruction" as Prime Minister.

"I will soon go through that door behind me and issue my first instruction—to end rough sleeping in our country."

As someone who has experienced homelessness myself and knows what it is like to sleep rough, I welcome the priority he has attached to this issue. Few things expose a society's failures more starkly than people sleeping on its streets. Never before has an incoming Prime Minister explicitly made addressing rough sleeping a priority on their first day in office.

But bold promises invite equally bold questions.

Burnham made essentially the same commitment when he became Mayor of Greater Manchester. Significant progress was made, and many factors lay outside his control, but rough sleeping was not eliminated. This time he has many more policy levers available, not least in relation to housing, benefits, local government funding, immigration policy and mental health. I applaud the intention but the challenge is incredibly complex.

That is why I admire the ambition while remaining sceptical about the simplicity of the pledge. Ending rough sleeping is not achieved through a single instruction from Downing Street. It requires coordinated action across multiple departments and years of sustained commitment. The new Prime Minister has raised expectations without explaining how he intends to meet them.

Hope matters

Burnham concluded with perhaps the strongest part of his speech.

"I will put the care of people at the heart of everything I do... Let us make this the moment when Britain starts to believe again, the moment we bring back hope."

It is difficult not to welcome that sentiment.

British politics has become relentlessly cynical. Public debate increasingly rewards outrage over understanding, performance over substance and division over cooperation. Social media amplifies anger because anger generates clicks. The traditional media often follows suit.

Against that backdrop, speaking openly about hope is refreshing.

Indeed, liberals should actively welcome it.

Politics should offer hope.

It should encourage people to believe that society can improve through democratic action rather than perpetual conflict.

But hope cannot simply be declared - it has to be earned.

Approach matters here just as much as policy. Will Burnham genuinely seek cross-party collaboration where national interests demand it? Will he treat opposition parties as opponents rather than enemies? Will he devolve power rather than merely talking about it? Will he resist Labour tribalism when constitutional reform requires consensus?

These questions matter because political culture shapes political outcomes.

If Burnham can make politics feel less tribal, less performative and more collaborative, that alone would represent meaningful progress. But it is not easy to see how he can achieve that and bring his party with him, or even whether he genuinely wants to change the political culture.

A cautious optimism

From a liberal perspective, Andy Burnham remains something of an unknown quantity.

His speech contained much that we should welcome: hope rather than despair, prevention rather than crisis management, collaboration rather than confrontation and an apparent willingness to devolve power. Those are all instincts that Liberal Democrats have long championed.

At the same time, the speech was strikingly short on specifics. Again and again Burnham acknowledged failure before promising that things would somehow be different. Yet he rarely explained precisely how.

We should want him to succeed where his ambitions align with our own. We should welcome genuine devolution, constitutional reform, preventative public services, stronger local government and a less tribal politics. But we should also insist that warm words become practical policy.

Britain has heard enough speeches about change.

We need evidence that change is actually coming.

Unlike many of his predecessors, Andy Burnham cannot afford a long honeymoon. Britain has endured a decade of political instability. Public patience is exhausted, economic challenges are mounting, and Reform UK waits eagerly to exploit another failure of mainstream politics.

If Burnham succeeds, he may begin rebuilding public trust in politics itself. If he fails, the consequences will extend far beyond the fortunes of the Labour Party. After seven Prime Ministers in little more than a decade, many voters may simply conclude that the political establishment has nothing left to offer.

That is why this premiership matters so much. For all the uncertainty surrounding Andy Burnham, one thing is beyond dispute: Britain cannot afford another false dawn.