Dear Keir: If a colleague pushes back on your plan, sack them

Still, I knew that if I nailed my speech, I could claw my way back to Sunak numbers. Nail it I did, promising national renewal and vowing that our economy would be a grower not a show-er. I celebrated “real Britain”: running the raffle, cutting the half-time orange, getting a smacked botty on St Swithin’s day.

Of course, it wasn’t all peaches and cream. A certain regional mayor hung over my head, like a Scouse Sword of Damocles. At times it felt as though I was Macbeth, and Burnham Wood had come to Dunsinane.

Fortunately, Andy-monium seems to have subsided. Who can blame the party for getting cold feet? The guy’s a joke – his dad wasn’t even a toolmaker. Also, I’m sick of people calling him the King in the North, a reference to HBO series Game of Thrones. I’ll admit Labour is like the show in some respects: it’s full of bastards and backstabbing, and fans are bitterly disappointed with where we ended up. There’s none of the incest or castration, though. At least I hope not…

The Game of Thrones northern protagonist Jon Snow famously knew nothing. Well, Ser Keir of House Starmer knows quite a bit, so let’s get to your questions!

Dear Keir, I was recently promoted to manager of the Forbidden Planet where I work. My former colleagues, now underlings, don’t take me seriously (they keep playing Magic: The Gathering instead of doing inventory). How can I force them to obey? Saskia, Croydon

Thanks Saskia. These are issues one has to navigate whether running a government or a shop that sells replica Mandalorian helmets and statues of Lara Croft.

There’s a management style I employ with my MPs, which is to say no carrot, all stick. Any dissent is met with a sledgehammer response: suspension, expulsion, deselection. And it’s worked brilliantly, aside from the welfare rebellion and the fact that they all want rid of me. That’s what Morgan McSweeney says, anyway.

If a colleague pushes back on your plan to, say, reorganise the manga section, you should sack them on the spot. Alternatively, you can create an illusion of democracy by letting subordinates decide something you don’t care about. Hold a vote on how many copies of Dandadan Vol 16 to order, or whether to put those anime pillows in the window. Non-binding, of course – you can’t let things turn to bedlam.

Dear Keir, I’ve noticed a spark between my girlfriend and her personal trainer. She says not to worry about Sergio, but the guy’s handsome, charming and smooth. Am I being paranoid? Terence, Selly Oak

Hi Terence. While I don’t know the specifics of your case, chances are you’re right to be worried. When you have something good in your life, whether a romantic partner or an important job, there’s always some bastard eager to steal it. I can picture this Sergio right now: raven hair, sexy specs, brimming with northern swagger.

So yes, I get where you’re coming from. You probably lie awake in bed each night, seething about the guy. He’s everything you’re not – popular, comfortable in his skin, vaguely left-of-centre. Your partner thinks that replacing you will solve all her problems. Why can’t she appreciate what she has? You may be a bit crap, but at least you’re dependably crap, like a Tesco meal deal or Ed Sheeran. Sorry, I got carried away there…

My advice is to subtly undermine your rival. Whenever your girlfriend brings him up, say something like: “Nice chap – I never believed the allegations.” Or: “He’ll be a real catch once he gets his herpes under control.” Have your mates badmouth the guy in public – maybe go scorched earth and compare him to Liz Truss.

By dragging Sergio’s name through the mud, you should be able to stop your girlfriend from jumping ship. It’s either that or make a positive case for yourself …

Right, I’m off to bask in the glowing reception to my speech, which I’m confident will turn everything around.

Yours oratorically,

Keir xxx

As told to Lucien Young