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LLike most narcissists, Boris Johnson is unable to conceive of other people having an independent existence. Rather, they are mere satellites orbiting your ego. Mere objects whose only function is to carry out your orders. And to be fair, it’s a worldview that has served you quite well thus far as you navigated your path, with an outlandish mix of broken promises, blatant lies, and backstabbing, toward your life’s goal of becoming first. Minister. Family, friends and colleagues who have been trampled on the road are just collateral damage.
But there are growing signs that more and more people are deciding enough is enough. Conservative MPs have grown tired of being left out of government coronavirus legislation and President Lindsay Hoyle made no attempt to hide her anger Wednesday at the way parliament had been sidelined. But the person who gets into Boris’s skin the most is Keir Starmer. Because more than six months later, he still has to surpass the Labor leader.
It must be driving Johnson crazy. The Prime Minister’s questions were always meant to be the Boris Show. The half hour of the week when the country laughed at his jokes and enjoyed his humiliations. Except it hasn’t worked that way at all. Partly because the Labor leader is visibly better prepared, but mostly because he refuses to be elected in Johnson’s image. Keir is very much his own man – he keeps his questions short and direct and calls out Boris bragging for the shit he is.
Today, Johnson was wrong all along when Starmer wondered why Luton was the only city that had entered and exited additional lockdown restrictions. Boris’s response that Luton had “joined” would not have fared well for the 25% of the country living in the other 47 regions that still live under extra strict measures, as it rather implied that they must have been kidding. .
For the rest of the session, Starmer walked in circles around Johnson. He picked it up for not even knowing what restrictions he had put in place. The best thing Boris came up with was that it was up to everyone in each area to figure out the rules for themselves. Starmer then approached the prime minister about his definition of “viable business” and the level of support he was willing to provide. “Putting an arm around the whole country” didn’t quite square with an angry email Starmer had received from a wedding planner in the Chancellor’s Richmond constituency.
In the end, Boris was nothing more than a baby “crying and vomiting in the arms of his nanny” and who had not yet advanced beyond the first stage of the man of Jaques. Unable to give a smart, or even not-so-smart, answer, he simply screamed his anguish that someone should dare to question him about anything and accuse the Labor leader of shooting from the sides. Keir lazily opened one eye and observed that he had supported the restrictions at all times, it was just the last detail and the strategy he was looking for. None arrived. Misery was etched on Johnson’s face. Not so much because of the humiliation, but because of its nature. It had all been so casual. Starmer now barely has to get out of second gear to gain PMQ at a canter.
It felt like the only reason the prime minister held a press conference on the coronavirus in Downing Street later in the afternoon was to remind both himself and the rest of the country that he was in charge, because it turned out that it did not. I really have something to say that we didn’t know. The number of cases is increasing significantly, but he currently has no plans to impose further measures in any part of the country.
The press conference felt a bit shocked and hopeful. There was a word of encouragement to the students that he would personally make sure everyone went home on Christmas, regardless of whether they wanted to or not. But there was no indication of how we could get through the next few months or how to prevent Santa from contracting the virus. “We will fight and defeat the disease,” Boris said, as if all other countries had abandoned the idea. “We will not throw away the sponge.” Although, in truth, it looked more like Boris had done just that. He looked terrible, his bloodshot, puffy eyes and pale complexion, as he repeated the measures he was taking that were clearly not working that well. He sounded like a man waiting for a miracle.
There, again, Johnson was flanked by Chris Whitty and Patrick Vallance. In the early days of the 10th briefing, the medical director and senior scientific advisor proved to be far more receptive to the prime minister’s more optimistic interpretation of events, but both men have clearly grown weary of their reputations being burned. . Like many who get too close to Boris, they feel the need to part ways for their own sanity. Repeatedly bitten, eventually shy.
So Whitty and Vallance were there to provide constant pessimistic reminders that the numbers were going in the wrong direction. There was no magic formula. Yes, the outbreaks were more localized today, but there were no guarantees that the situation would not change. The nature of epidemics is that they can spiral out of control very quickly. And no, they didn’t regret giving a pessimistic forecast the week before. This time it would be the adults who would be in control. They would make sure Boris took the necessary measures even if they had to twist his arm.
