Conference season has come and gone, but what did it reveal about the state of UK politics? Greg Taylor reflects on the contrasting energies at the Liberal Democrat, Labour, and Conservative conferences, from the Lib Dems’ euphoric celebration of their historic 72 MP win to Labour’s subdued navigation of governance realities and the Conservatives’ surprisingly energised leadership contest.
“How’s your conference?”
The opening to every hurried conversation snatched in heaving hotel corridors and pullulating parties during the UK’s intense political conference season.
Beyond the niceties about the weather and critiques of this or that speech, when describing “your” conference, you try to put into words that most intangible, mercurial and defining element. The energy. How does it feel when you’re snaking through the imaginative exhibition stands paid for by behemoths like Google, the BBC and… Chester Zoo? Is there a crackle of electricity when a purported “big beast” takes to the podium to pontificate on policy? Is the Conference hotel bar, filthy expensive and terminally tumultuous, abuzz with gossip, plotting and merrymaking in the dark hours when most sensible folk are long since asleep? So, how was the energy this year?
The Lib Dems’ conference
In debates, in speeches, and in casual conversation the number 72 [Lib Dem MPs elected in July] was enunciated with something like reverence, something like disbelief.
The Lib Dems, up first as usual, were so full of zest that their hair practically stood on end from the moment they piled out of Brighton Station (those that had some, anyway). In debates, in speeches, and in casual conversation the number 72 was enunciated with something like reverence, something like disbelief. 72, the number of Lib Dem MPs elected in July, the party’s most ever and a jump of 645% from their devastating 2019 result. 72, the Shibboleth that elicited lusty cheers that only increased in volume over four long days.
Fringe debates on social care, on environmentalism, on education, drew hundreds of eager ears. Too many for piddling meeting rooms, leaving latecomers lingering gloomily by closed doors. Lib Dems now represent the UK’s northern reaches, its most southern tip, and urban and rural areas in-between. Their Conference gave all of them their first forum to grapple with what this means and how they should act as the third party in Westminster and hold the government to account.
Sir Ed Davey – an ever-present, bungee-jumping beacon during the election campaign, morphed into a serious statesman. Mostly. Usually ever-present around conference, this year he was barely glimpsed. Assumedly wining and dining donors, and enmeshed in serious backroom meetings, a rare spotting of the Leader was greeted with post-resurrection giddiness by the throngs.
The energy fizzed, especially during the infamous Glee Club on the final night, when attendees let their hair down by crooning specially-written hymns to Lib Demmery, set to pop tunes, in raucous unison. You could just tell they can’t wait for Conference 2025.
Labour’s Conference
A week later Labour seemed bedraggled before the rain even began. Theoretically celebrating a monumental election win, they found themselves reeling from a flurry of negative headlines – giddy hacks revelling in gifted glasses, Budget woes, and internecine warfare.
Harried ministers dashed from room to room, dancing around complicated and fractious questioning from disgruntled members. Winter fuel burst into angry flame; benefit caps saw the gloves come off.
So the expected ebullience seemed quashed before it bloomed, despite the throngs jostling for what was Labour’s biggest ever conference. The realities of government simply, and perhaps inevitably, smothered the joy. Harried ministers dashed from room to room, dancing around complicated and fractious questioning from disgruntled members. Winter fuel burst into angry flame; benefit caps saw the gloves come off.
LSE’s fringe debate, presenting research to pave the road to net zero, mercifully skirted swirling controversies. And our private dinner, a forum for friendly discussion on how to future-proof policymaking, uncovered the latent energy, and optimism within Labour’s ranks. It may just take a bit longer for it to manifest outwardly.
The Conservative Conference
The Conservative Conference was perhaps the biggest surprise of all. It started with tumbleweeds, and gleeful protesters pumping funeral marches through loudspeakers, but swiftly picked up pace. There was change in the air. Leadership candidates, like WWF wrestlers or disgraced actors, were hustled from room to room by ever-growing phalanxes of advisers and hangers-on, gawkers straining for selfies as the scrums rolled by.
Every wing of the Party hoped that this might be their moment – the internationalists, the environmentalists, the anti-migrationists and the flat-earthers. They’d all chosen their fighter and were all gunning for victory.
Every wing of the Party hoped that this might be their moment – the internationalists, the environmentalists, the anti-migrationists and the flat-earthers. They’d all chosen their fighter and were all gunning for victory. They were energised.
That energy flowed into the fringes – debates turned feisty; receptions that could have fallen flat instead throbbed with tension and intrigue. Public bloodsport can do that to a conference, and the leadership contest delivered spectacle worthy of Gladiator 2.
“She said what?” “He thinks what?”
All somewhat unedifying, all fascinating nevertheless.
LSE’s calming events, on re-wilding and – again – on how to cement long term policy despite the ephemeral electoral cycle – provided succour to those looking for nourishment. Former ministers, MPs, Lords, Assembly Members, thinkers and doers turned up hopefully and went away satiated, with new links formed and new ideas for harnessing the palpable energy powering the Conservatives through their most difficult era. The coming months will show how that energy will be marshalled and how tricky the transition to successful opposition will be.
So, how were our conferences?
Illuminating, elusive, exciting. Impactful, interesting and introspective.
At each, we found the energy in different places and focused on different priorities. The practical process of scrutiny, the harsh realities of government, the tough requirements of leadership.
And in each case, we will be doing what we can to make sure LSE expertise leads the way.
All articles posted on this blog give the views of the author(s), and not the position of LSE British Politics and Policy, nor of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image credit: chrisdorney on Shutterstock