Article
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Politics
8 min read

Looking upon Labour’s "loveless landslide"

What watching a night that changed the country tells us about its mood.
A poltiical pudit opines in a TV studio while his colleague leans in and listens.
The Two Ronnies.

I very much like Mr. Vine, but he is like a Gremlin: you must follow the rules and not give him caffeine or sugar on Election Night. 

What on earth has happened to Aunty!? One of the few things that has united people from the left and right (at least according to my social media) is just how mediocre the election coverage was. The evening started badly for the Beeb when they let Channel 4 distract viewers a full 15mins early. This was to allow Not Going Out to complete its important work of informing and educating the populace. 

As a result, I found myself glued to Channel 4 for most of the night, intermittently flicking back to the National Broadcaster for bouts of genuine bewilderment. In a Channel 4 lull I made the jump only to have every sense immediately assaulted by migraine inducing swingometer graphics (it was synaesthesia inducing…I could practically taste the rapid mix of red, yellow, and blue). This neurological bombardment intensified with the commentary of Jeremy Vine. I very much like Mr. Vine, but he is like a Gremlin: you must follow the rules and not give him caffeine or sugar on Election Night. His high-octane performance drove me to the limit immediately. 

Regular further jumps gave me glimpses into the bizarre: a journalist standing outside of Rishi Sunak’s blacked-out home telling us the lights weren’t on, telling Steve Baker to his face that he was going to lose his seat, having an interview with Jacob Rees-Mogg where he looked like a hostage reading out demands…it really was dreadful! 

Stewart was reinforced by Channel 4 Political Editor Gary Gibbon. With a soft yet authoritative voice, and the appearance of a cheeky Beano character fifty years on. 

I stuck to Channel 4 as my safe space. They very much cornered the market for coverage by bagging both The Rest is Politics and the Gogglebox cast, as well as producing regularly mismatched line-ups of former MPs to pass comment. I must assume this was intentional, but even if not, it meant comedy gold. The scene opened with Emily Maitlis and Krishnan Guru-Murthy talking over each other in a stumbling staccato, while Kwasi Kwartang looked unbelievably uncomfortable sandwiched in between Harriet Harmen and Nadine Dorries (in various shades of pink).  

There were many other talking heads throughout the night, who each brought some magic to the night: Nadim Zahawi (looking like a cross between a wise owl and a Bond villain), Carol Vorderman (who might have started celebrating rather early), Sir Alan Duncan (looking like a wine merchant holidaying on the Amalfi Coast). Mhari Black brought a rather refreshing bluntness to proceedings. 

The standout stars, however, were Mr. Stewart and Mr. Campbell. They brought the Centrist-Dads-disagreeing-agreeably energy that has seen their podcast top the charts. They played off each other with precision and genuine affection, and a fair bit of humour. Campbell would get into a mild row, and then Stewart would jump in with careful analysis that tried to look at the broader political landscape. Dorries proved the perfect foil to Campbell - speaking in accusatory non-sequiturs, rhapsodically musing on the ‘virtues’ of Boris Johnson, weaving nonsense narratives that wouldn’t even make it into one of her novels. Campbell would retort in a tone that was at once bewildered, bored, and bristling. Stewart would valiantly intervene to find the calmer waters of consensus, and the whole cycle would repeat. Kwarteng looked increasingly uncomfortable until he just upped and vanished - perhaps from the embarrassment of being in the same party as Dorries. 

In his attempt to be serious and measured, Stewart was reinforced by Channel 4 Political Editor Gary Gibbon. With a soft yet authoritative voice, and the appearance of a cheeky Beano character fifty years on, he gave the careful analysis of the polls and the turnout, which Stewart would then run with in broader political perorations. The two hosts would often chip-in (quite chippily, actually), rarely able to sublimate their obvious and banterous contempt for some of the more egregious spin. 

Meanwhile, Harriet Harmon looked cross.

A sense of angry Labour malaise was one of the leitmotifs of the night...  there was a noticeable lack of celebration. No smiles. No D:Ream soundtrack. No positivity

This struck me as odd. Just before the show it had been announced that she was to be elevated to the Lords. This honour appeared to give her no joy. Harmen brought every answer back to how dreadful the Tories were, until Kwarteng tried to make a joke out of it to cut the tension: ‘You won, alright!?’ Every successful Labour candidate who was interviewed focused their responses on excoriating the legacy of the Tories, as if they were still in campaign mode. At times it got rather uncomfortable. Every time Rachel Reeves let a grin slip through, she seemed to feel the need to overcorrect by attacking her fallen foes even more harshly. On one of my disastrous forays back to the BBC I was greeted with Wes Streeting being positively thuggish in his language. It wasn’t until Sir Keir gave his victory speech that any Labour figures seemed to feel like they could actually appreciate their victory. 

A sense of angry Labour malaise was one of the leitmotifs of the night. From the moment the Labour Landslide was announced there was a noticeable lack of celebration. No smiles. No D:Ream soundtrack. No positivity. Perhaps it was because they all recognised the truth, succinctly put by Gibbon when giving his immediate reflections on the Exit Poll Result: ‘That looks like love…but that is a loveless landslide.’ Voter turnout was low. The Labour Party went backwards in its vote in many areas - sometimes due to Reform, sometimes due to Gaza protests. This was epitomised by Jess Phillip’s wafer-thin majority. The always pugilistic Phillips had to give both barrels in her speech to those who had campaigned against her, who continued to attempt to drown her out.  

The Labour Party’s massive majority seems to be built on sand, and Zahawi was quick to point out that sand can easily shift. Labour are the beneficiaries of our winner-takes-all electoral system (a system I very much support), and so were continually reminded of the fact that Starmer is no Blair and ’24 is no ’97. The landslide will give some cheer to those who desperately wanted to see the back of the Tories. But it belies the reality that with both the Greens and Reform having four MPs, a number of Labour MPs being defeated by Independents, and decreased majorities in safe-seats up and down the country, we are not a nation united around the charisma of our new Dear Leader. 

Stewart and Campbell continually try to draw the conversation away from the tittle-tattle of what this might mean for Labour infighting and the Farage fulminations we can now expect to see in Parliament, to the broader and deeper questions for the very health of our democracy…but the pull of gossip is sometimes too great for Maitlis and Guru-Murthy. 

None of this is helped by Dorries. 

A big victory, but one which indicates no national unity or confidence. A defeated government that was tearing itself apart long before the loss. Low turnout and lower trust.

From the get-go Maitlis and Guru-Murthy tried to inject intrigue into proceedings; a tough ask when the result was the confirmation of what looked like a foregone conclusion from the moment the election was called. They did their best, and got some sparks from Dorries and Campbell - a Stannis Baratheon-esque grammatical correction (‘fewer’) had me roaring with laughter - but all-in-all I was uneasy. Not quite bored, but not entirely excited and hopeful. Around 3am I fell asleep in my seat. I was awoken at 6am to my children bursting into the living room. I valiantly attempted to continue to watch the coverage while feeding banana-porridge to my son, head tilted in the strain of hearing the telly over the roar of the world’s loudest washing machine. I turned back to my son, admitting auricular defeat. There is no porridge in his belly; plenty all over his face and in his hair.  

At 7am I was banished to the bedroom by my exasperated and long-suffering wife - it has become clear that I am not giving my all to childcare. I saw the gracelessness of Liz Truss arriving late and then refusing to give a concession speech. I saw Stewart play the silent Scottish assassin, gently pressing Stephen Flynn to admit that perhaps the SNP’s losses have something to do with their mismanagement with the Caledonian public realm. Rishi Sunak suggested the election was about tax, and everyone groaned in disbelief - he really doesn’t have any political instincts. 

I never recaptured the magic of the first couple of hours, probably because there wasn’t any. From 10pm onwards there was an underlying sense of disappointment and despair. A big victory, but one which indicates no national unity or confidence. A defeated government that was tearing itself apart long before the loss. Low turnout and lower trust. I am not surprised by this. “O put not your trust in princes, nor in any child of man: for there is no help in them.” This is the warning of the Psalmist. I have already written, a number of times, about my own disgruntlement at the political process, and my doubt that it will be easily remedied.  

But watching the coverage - the baffling BBC, the political Two Ronnies that are Stewart and Campbell, the remarkable hat worn by the returning officer in Blyth - I was fortified by remembering that while the Psalmist is correct, St Paul nevertheless gave us clear advice and instruction: “I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; for kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.” 

I shall pray for Sir Keir, for the new government, for all newly elected MPs.  

They need it. 

More importantly, we need it.

Article
Comment
Romance
5 min read

Getting hitched should benefit more than the advantaged

Marriage’s decline impacts outcomes for all.
A bride dressed colourfully stands next to her groom, dressed similarly, as he sits in a wheelchair.
Ellie Cooper on Unsplash.

Of all the dramatic changes to Britain in the last half century, one of the least discussed is the extraordinary decline in marriage.  

The marriage rate has fallen by two-thirds in the last 50 years. It was just above six per cent in 1972 and has now been under two per cent since 2017. 

This remarkable decline has corresponded with a rise in a relatively new relation type: cohabitation. Cohabitation was extremely uncommon before the 1960s, and even by 1986 just 10 per cent of new mothers were cohabitants. It is, however, rapidly becoming the mainstream. Now 35 per cent of babies are born to cohabiting mothers, and the total number of UK cohabiting couples increased from 1.5 to 3.7 million between 1996 and 2022.  

Much of this is due to couples delaying marriage: 84 per cent of religious and 91 per cent of civil marriages are now between couples that already live together, and the average age when first marrying has climbed by 10 years since the early 1970s. But it is also due to many more couples not marrying at all. 

Opinions understandably differ on this social transition away from marriage and towards cohabitation. It is a point of progress worth celebrating that the previous societal shunning of those, especially women, who had children outside of marriage has been left in the past. However, such progress has not been without consequences. Cohabitations are less stable, on average, than marriages. Cohabiting parents are around three times as likely to separate in the first five years of their children’s life as married couples.  

This stability is not simply because wealthier, more highly educated people tend to have stable families and also tend to marry. Studies by World Family Maps and the Marriage Foundation have shown marriage to be a larger factor in family stability than either education or income.  

Nor does the stability come from couples staying together miserably.  Studies undertaken in 2017 and 2024 looked at the outcomes of couples 10 years on from considering their relationships to be ‘on the brink’. In the initial study, while 70 per cent of cohabiting couples had separated in the decade since considering themselves ‘on the brink’, 70 per cent of the married couples had remained together. Perhaps even more crucially, just seven per cent of those married couples that had stayed together were unhappy in their relationship a decade on. The 2024 study found none of the sample of married couples that had stayed together were still unhappy 10 years on. For those that had stayed together, things had improved. 

This family instability that the decline of marriage has caused is also unevenly distributed. Affluent couples – often those most likely to criticise the concept of marriage – are much more likely to marry than disadvantaged ones.  

Looking at socioeconomic groups, seven in ten mothers from the most advantaged group are married, while just a third of those from the two most disadvantaged groups are. The effect is geographic, too. Institute for Fiscal Studies research has found parents having children are more likely to be married if they are living in better educated areas. For the advantaged, it is compassionately affirmational to suggest that every relationship is equal, even though the advantaged themselves choose the most secure option of marriage: a hypocrisy only tolerated due to the potent fear of seeming judgemental. 

The consequence of this is deepening inequality: disadvantaged families are rendered more likely to breakdown, while children from affluent backgrounds are disproportionately likely to enjoy the ‘the two-parent privilege’, the substantial emotional and developmental advantages of growing up in a stable home. Melissa Kearney coined the phrase, and her evidence shows how children grow up, on average, to have better educational outcomes, better emotional and physical wellbeing, and higher incomes if they are raised in two-parent homes. 

Stable families are foundational to a stable society, and marriage is crucial to stable families.

So, why are marriage rates so much higher among wealthier couples than poorer ones, and why is this gap growing? 

We can isolate three reasons in particular, each more solvable than the last.  

Most challenging is the feedback loop effect: people whose parents, role-models, and friends have not married are unlikely to do so themselves. The demographic trend compounds itself.  

Second, and easily addressable if only the will was there, is the public messaging effect: politicians – and to some extent celebrities – have consistently told the public that marriage is unimportant. In 2017, Marriage Foundation research found that it had been a decade since a cabinet member had discussed marriage in a speech. This has hardly changed in the years since. In 2024, the only major party whose manifesto even mentioned marriage was Reform; even then the focus in the relevant section seemed to be less on marriage and more on getting ‘people trapped on benefits back into the workplace’. 

Third is the cost of weddings. A quick flick through top wedding magazines suggests that the average wedding costs upwards of £20,000. Survey evidence from both Marriage Foundation and the Thriving Center of Psychology have found that most young people view weddings as unrealistically expensive. 

This financial problem is solvable: much of the costs relate to venue hire. Unless they are having a religious marriage, a couple will need to find a venue that has gone through the bureaucratic process of becoming an ‘approved premises’. The cheapest of these are register offices which, including all expenses, still cost about £500. 

This is eminently mendable. The Law Commission proposal to reorganise wedding law around the officiant, not the venue, opens the door for a future of more affordable weddings by removing the regulatory barrier. It will also bring the law in line with that of other home nations. 

This proposal will not work by itself, though, it will need to be supported by creativity in wedding planning.  

Wedding costs can be substantially reduced by taking a DIY approach. Food, drinks, and decorations can often be coordinated amongst enthusiastic (and appropriately competent!) guests.  

Booze free weddings are a growing phenomenon, and especially good for weddings with children.  

Such ‘group-effort’ approaches often have a unique feel thanks to the high participation of guests, and people are more likely to remember events that they feel a sense of ownership of, having helped make them happen. 

Alongside this is a recommendation by the Centre for Social Justice. It proposes subsidising the necessary statutory fees for the poorest couples, up to £550 per couple. An inexpensive and hugely beneficial adjustment to improve wedding accessibility for the least fortunate.  

Stable families are foundational to a stable society, and marriage is crucial to stable families; perhaps it is time for all of us to make tying the knot easier.  

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