Hullo Britain, and Happy New Keir! I hope you’re rested, relaxed and ready to grow the economy through increased productivity. My overriding resolution is to reverse my political fortunes.
I’ll be launching an initiative, 26 in ’26, to return my approval rating to the giddy heights of 26%. From there, it’s a hop, skip and a jump to re-election, universal adoration and an unimpeachable legacy. I have a good feeling about the coming months!
Admittedly, I’m in hot water for saying I was “delighted” by the return of British-Egyptian activist Alaa Abd el-Fattah, who sent some spicy tweets back in the day. Now Reform is demanding he be stripped of his citizenship. It’s certainly bold of Nigel Farage to argue that we should deport people for historical racism. Still, I’m sure this unpleasantness will blow over, and I won’t make any more blunders.
Let’s keep the positive vibes going as we turn to your questions!
Dear Keir, my partner and I are from very different backgrounds. His family struggles to accept me, which takes a toll on the relationship. Is there a way forward?
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Millicent, Bury St Edmunds
Hi Millicent. It’s an age-old question: does love conquer all, or are some divides too formidable to bridge? I faced this question when I got together with Lady Vic. She worked as a solicitor at the time, while I plied my trade as a barrister. Our professions had long been mortal enemies, and such a union was unheard of – think Romeo and Juliet meets West Side Story. Every day, lawyers gathered for rumbles behind the Inns of Court. Fountain pens were used as shanks, and there was many a briefcase bludgeoning before the cops could intervene.
It horrified my barrister mates that I would consider dating a “desk jockey”. Ultimately though, our love proved stronger than prejudice, and we became trailblazers of inter-legal marriage. Barrister-solicitor pairings are common these days, for which I take no small credit. My advice is to follow your heart. Your fella’s family will come round (though Vic’s friends still call me a “gown-wearing prat”).
Dear Keir, I’m worried that my colleagues are badmouthing me behind my back. I tell myself I’m being paranoid, but what if I’m not?
Myrtle, Redruth
Don’t worry, Myrtle – if you’re anything like me, your colleagues only want what’s best for you. I’m fortunate enough to be surrounded by fanatically loyal aides, and my cabinet is filled with such bosom buddies as Wes Streeting. These are people who would happily sacrifice their careers if it spared the boss a moment’s embarrassment. They wouldn’t dream of covertly slagging me off, least of all to the press. Do I sometimes walk into rooms only for everyone to go quiet? Yes, frequently. But I assume it’s because they’re planning a surprise party.
That said, there’s always a chance your colleagues are, in fact, putting the boot in. Perhaps they’re calling you – and this is off the top of my head – “Sir Stopgap”, “greige in human form”, “a fatberg clogging the sewer of British politics”, or “the least useful tool ever made”. In that case, the wisest course of action is to ignore them. Focus on being the best Keir you can be. I mean Myrtle. History will treat you kindly, even if the present acts as if you ran over its dog.
Right, that’s that: a perfectly serviceable column to start the year. Before I go, I want to congratulate all those on the new year honours list. Celebrities aren’t celebrated enough, so bravo to Idris Elba, Cynthia Erivo, Torvill and Dean, Paul Chuckle, etc. I hope that, like Ms Erivo, I keep “Defying Gravity” in 2026. If only Glinda would teach me to be “Popular”…
Of course, I don’t just grant honours to the famous and talented. My allies Anneliese Dodds and Jonathan Ashworth have both been recognised for services to losing their jobs. Some accuse me of hypocrisy regarding the honours system. Rubbish! In 2023, I told the Commons that “honours should be for public service, not Tory cronies”. I never said anything about Labour cronies.
Yours technically,
Keir xxx