We have now reached the end of what could best be described as the Back to the Future conference season. Kemi Badenoch wanted to take us back to the 1980s. Andy Burnham wanted to take Labour back to the 1970s, and Britain back into Europe.
Only Nigel Farage seemed interested in taking Britain forward. First, Kemi. Channelling Margaret Thatcher, she wanted us to believe she had rediscovered her true calling as a Tory tax cutter. Quite the Damascene conversion.
This is the same Conservative Party that spent years telling us it was the party of low tax, then left the country carrying a historically high tax burden. Badenoch and many of the people now sitting around her shadow cabinet table served in the governments that helped put it there.
Now we are supposed to believe they have seen the light. Stamp duty and inheritance tax. Abolish them? You’re the ones that made them mind-numbingly high!
I remember George Osborne promising to take most families out of inheritance tax back in 2007. Then came fourteen years of Conservative government. Fourteen years to deliver. Fourteen years of excuses.
Forgive me if I want rather more than a new generation of empty conference promises. I saw pictures on X of the Conservatives’ attempt at a political Bayeux Tapestry. The actual Bayeux Tapestry tells the story of unwelcome arrivals crossing the English Channel, invading Britain and ushering in decades of decline.
The only surprise is that it depicts 1066, rather than the record of the last Conservative government. Then we travelled another decade backwards.
Enter Andy Burnham and the return of the 1970s. Labour members who were at their conference tell me listening to his speech was the closest thing they have had to a religious experience. I get mine in church on Sundays.
They apparently get theirs watching the high priest of Manchesterism, little more in reality than a Jeremy Corbyn tribute act in a black T-shirt, tell them they were right all along. Taxes aren’t high enough. Railways aren’t nationalised enough. The unions aren’t powerful enough.
Apparently, this is how we will grow a modern economy. Work hard and start a business? Pay more.
Go out to work? Pay more. Buy your own home, do the right thing and pay off the mortgage? Pay more.
He has pensioners in his sights too. What has the poor old British pensioner done to offend the Labour Party?
First came the raid on winter fuel payments. Now comes the threat to the triple lock. Call me old-fashioned, but protecting the incomes of people who have worked all their lives strikes me as a pretty low bar.
Then came Europe. Ed Davey has spent years trying to drag us back towards the EU. This year Burnham decided he would not be outdone. He wants to go further. A closer relationship. A renegotiation. Another deal. You can see where this road leads.
Labour has stopped competing with the Lib Dems on Europe. It has adopted their policy. Think about it. A Prime Minister who has not yet won a general election wants, a decade after the referendum, to reopen the greatest democratic decision of our lifetimes.
You have not won your own mandate yet, Andy. Brexit did. How dare politicians treat that decision as a mistake the British people must be persuaded to correct? How dare they blame the failures of politics and politicians on the voters who did exactly what they were asked to do: make a choice?
And this is where the conference season starts to matter. Because my suspicion is that Burnham is laying the ground for an election in May 2027.
I can almost picture him returning, a little like Neville Chamberlain coming back from Munich, waving a piece of paper and assuring us that he has found the answer. Concerned about tens of thousands of people entering the country illegally? Brexit’s fault. Concerned about weak growth, high taxes and a system that too often makes work feel unrewarding? Brexit’s fault.
Concerned about social care, your pension or how much of your wages the government takes? Never mind all that. Look at the new European deal. An election fought on his chosen question, with everything else pushed to the sidelines.
The boats? Wait for the deal. Adult social care? Wait for the plan. The triple lock? Wait for the small print. A blank cheque, with no clear explanation of how he intends to spend it. Corbynism in a black T-shirt. This time with a five-year mandate.
Which brings us to Reform. Reform does not want to take Britain back to the 1980s or the 1970s. It wants to talk about the future. An outward-looking, confident Britain outside the EU. A growing economy. A country that rewards effort and ends the something-for-nothing culture.
Burnham may ask you next year for a blank cheque, with a European deal held aloft and the awkward questions hidden underneath. Do not fall for it. The Conservatives have had their chance. Labour wants another cheque. The Lib Dems want another referendum argument.
Nigel Farage wants to move Britain forward. That is why I will vote Reform. Britain needs reform.
Andy Burnham’s “About to Blame Everything on Brexit” – He’s “Corbyn in a Black T-Shirt”
Andy Burnham has long been regarded as one of the most interesting and controversial figures in British politics. As the Mayor of Greater Manchester, he has built a reputation for presenting himself as a champion of working-class communities, a critic of economic inequality, and a politician willing to challenge the traditional priorities of Westminster. However, his political style and ambitions have also attracted sharp criticism. The description of Burnham as someone who is “about to blame everything on Brexit” and as “Corbyn in a black T-shirt” captures a broader debate about his political identity, his relationship with Labour’s left wing, and his approach to the economic and social challenges facing Britain. These phrases are deliberately provocative, but they raise important questions about political accountability, populism, the legacy of Brexit, and the future direction of the Labour Party.
To understand these criticisms, it is necessary to examine Burnham’s political background and the image he has developed over the years. Born in Liverpool in 1970, Burnham entered Parliament in 2001 as the Labour MP for Leigh. During his parliamentary career, he held several senior government positions under Labour, including Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport and Secretary of State for Health. His experience in government gave him an understanding of the British political establishment, while his northern roots helped him cultivate an identity closely connected to working-class voters. Unlike politicians who rely heavily on national media appearances and Westminster debates, Burnham has often sought to present himself as a representative of communities that feel neglected by central government.
His election as Mayor of Greater Manchester in 2017 marked a significant turning point in his career. The mayoralty allowed him to develop a political identity that was distinct from that of the national Labour leadership. He became associated with policies concerning public transport, regional investment, homelessness, health inequalities, and the redistribution of economic opportunities beyond London and the South East. Supporters argue that this approach reflects a genuine commitment to improving people’s lives. Critics, however, question whether his political language sometimes promises more than local government can realistically deliver. This tension between ambition and practical responsibility lies at the heart of the controversy surrounding his leadership style.
The accusation that Burnham is “about to blame everything on Brexit” reflects a wider frustration with British politicians who use the consequences of Brexit to explain the country’s continuing economic difficulties. Since the 2016 referendum, Brexit has remained one of the most divisive issues in British politics. The decision to leave the European Union transformed the country’s relationship with its largest nearby trading bloc, created new administrative requirements for businesses, and contributed to uncertainty about investment, labour mobility, and the future of the British economy. Many economists have argued that Brexit has weakened the UK’s long-term economic performance compared with what might otherwise have occurred, although the precise scale of its effects remains debated.
Nevertheless, Brexit cannot explain every problem confronting Britain. The country also faces longstanding weaknesses in productivity, a shortage of affordable housing, pressure on public services, regional economic inequality, and the consequences of years of insufficient investment in infrastructure. The National Health Service struggles with waiting lists and workforce pressures, while many households continue to experience difficulties with the cost of living. These problems have multiple causes, some of which predate the referendum by many years. Therefore, any politician who attributes every national difficulty to Brexit risks oversimplifying complex economic realities.
The criticism directed at Burnham is consequently not merely about whether he believes Brexit has damaged Britain. It is about whether he can offer a convincing explanation of the country’s problems without turning Brexit into a convenient political excuse. A serious political leader must be able to distinguish between the consequences of international economic changes, the failures of previous governments, and the decisions made by the government currently in office. If Brexit has made trade more difficult, the appropriate response should involve identifying the specific barriers involved and proposing practical solutions. If public services are struggling because of inadequate funding, poor management, or a shortage of staff, those issues require separate analysis and targeted action.
At the same time, it would be unfair to suggest that discussing Brexit automatically constitutes an attempt to avoid responsibility. Political leaders have a duty to explain how major national decisions affect employment, investment, public finances, and regional development. The real question is whether Burnham uses Brexit as one factor in a wider economic analysis or treats it as an all-purpose explanation for failures that demand more direct accountability.
The second description, “Corbyn in a black T-shirt,” is equally revealing. Jeremy Corbyn, the former Labour leader, became a defining figure in British politics because of his socialist principles, opposition to austerity, support for public ownership, and criticism of economic inequality. His leadership attracted considerable enthusiasm among younger voters and those who believed that mainstream politics had failed to address the needs of ordinary people. However, it also generated intense opposition, particularly over his economic programme, his approach to national security, his handling of antisemitism within Labour, and his ability to win a general election.
Comparing Burnham to Corbyn suggests that critics see similarities between their political instincts. Both have been associated with interventionist economic policies, stronger public services, and a willingness to challenge established economic orthodoxies. Both can appeal to voters who feel that the political system favours wealthy individuals, powerful corporations, and prosperous regions over working-class communities. In this interpretation, Burnham represents a version of Labour politics that retains some of Corbyn’s emphasis on social justice while presenting itself in a more contemporary and electorally accessible form.
The reference to a black T-shirt adds a cultural dimension to the comparison. Clothing has long been used in politics to communicate identity, informality, and distance from traditional institutions. A politician wearing a black T-shirt may appear less formal than one dressed in a conventional suit and tie. Such an image can convey modernity, authenticity, and a connection with people who distrust the political establishment. Yet clothing is ultimately superficial. A politician’s economic programme, administrative record, and capacity to build a successful coalition of voters are far more important than the clothes he wears.
The comparison with Corbyn is therefore useful only up to a point. Burnham and Corbyn share some broad political concerns, but they have different experiences, responsibilities, and public profiles. Burnham has served in government and subsequently exercised executive authority as a directly elected mayor. His responsibilities require him to negotiate with central government, manage regional institutions, and work with public and private organisations. Corbyn, by contrast, became internationally associated with a national Labour leadership project built around a more explicitly socialist programme. Treating the two men as interchangeable risks ignoring these important differences.
Moreover, Burnham’s political appeal has partly depended on his ability to combine progressive economic ideas with a language of regional identity and practical delivery. His emphasis on Greater Manchester allows him to argue that political change should be judged by visible improvements in people’s everyday lives. Better transport connections, more accessible public services, affordable housing, and stronger local economies can provide tangible evidence of political effectiveness. This approach may distinguish him from politicians whose reputations depend primarily on ideological arguments.
However, it also creates a challenge. Local government operates within financial and legal limits, and mayors cannot independently resolve every problem affecting their regions. Decisions about taxation, welfare, immigration, national energy policy, and many aspects of public spending remain largely in the hands of central government. Consequently, Burnham’s ability to translate his regional reputation into a national political programme would depend on demonstrating how his ideas could work across the whole country. A policy that succeeds in Greater Manchester may require substantial adaptation before it can be applied to rural communities, coastal towns, or economically prosperous parts of southern England.
This issue is particularly important when considering the future of the Labour Party. Labour has historically struggled to balance its commitment to economic equality with the need to appeal to voters with different social attitudes and economic interests. Some voters favour stronger public ownership and increased public spending, while others prioritise fiscal stability, lower taxes, and economic growth. Some regard Brexit as a historic mistake, while others believe that politicians should concentrate on making the decision work rather than reopening old arguments. A successful national leader must acknowledge these differences without allowing them to destroy the party’s coherence.
Burnham’s potential strength lies in his ability to speak about inequality and regional neglect in language that voters can understand. His northern identity can reinforce the argument that economic prosperity should not be concentrated in a small number of metropolitan areas. Yet regional identity alone cannot provide a comprehensive governing philosophy. To establish credibility nationally, he would need to explain how his proposals would be funded, how they would improve productivity, and how he would respond to unexpected economic shocks. Voters may welcome ambitious promises, but they are also entitled to ask whether those promises are affordable and achievable.
Furthermore, the political environment has changed considerably since Corbyn first became Labour leader. The consequences of the pandemic, inflation, geopolitical instability, technological transformation, and changing patterns of international trade have made economic policymaking increasingly complicated. A modern political leader cannot rely solely on arguments about inequality or the shortcomings of previous governments. Such arguments may identify genuine problems, but they must be accompanied by credible plans for economic growth, public service reform, and long-term financial sustainability.
This is where the accusation about blaming Brexit becomes particularly significant. If Burnham wishes to present himself as a serious national alternative, he must demonstrate that he can move beyond explanations of past failures and concentrate on future solutions. Acknowledging the economic costs associated with Brexit may be necessary, but repeatedly returning to the referendum risks alienating voters who believe that the country has more urgent priorities. Equally, ignoring Brexit’s consequences would be intellectually dishonest if those consequences were relevant to the problems under discussion. The challenge is to address the issue proportionately, with evidence rather than political convenience.
Ultimately, the descriptions of Andy Burnham as someone ready to blame everything on Brexit and as “Corbyn in a black T-shirt” are examples of political rhetoric designed to question his credibility before he can establish a broader national role. They frame him as a politician who may rely on familiar left-wing explanations, fashionable presentation, and criticism of the establishment rather than offering sufficiently original solutions. However, slogans and personal comparisons cannot substitute for a serious assessment of his record and proposals.
Burnham should be judged on the substance of his policies, his achievements in Greater Manchester, his willingness to acknowledge mistakes, and his ability to explain how his ideas would improve the country. His critics are justified in demanding clear answers about economic growth, public spending, Brexit, and political accountability. His supporters are equally justified in arguing that Britain needs leaders who take regional inequality and the declining quality of public services seriously. Neither side should assume that a label settles the argument.
In conclusion, Andy Burnham occupies an important position in the debate about Labour’s identity and Britain’s political future. His reputation as a champion of northern communities gives him a distinctive platform, while his association with progressive economic policies exposes him to comparisons with Jeremy Corbyn. The claim that he is “about to blame everything on Brexit” highlights the danger of relying too heavily on a single explanation for national problems, while the phrase “Corbyn in a black T-shirt” questions whether his political image represents a genuinely different approach or simply a modernised version of familiar left-wing politics.
Ultimately, the decisive question is not whether Burnham resembles Corbyn or whether he criticises Brexit. It is whether he can combine social justice with economic competence, regional ambition with national responsibility, and political conviction with practical solutions. Britain needs leaders who can recognise the mistakes of the past without becoming trapped by them. If Burnham can demonstrate that balance, he may establish a political identity that goes beyond provocative comparisons. If he cannot, his critics may succeed in portraying him as another politician whose promises are easier to make than to fulfil.