Andy Burnham has announced his plan to run the country from Manchester if he becomes Prime Minister, which is either a revolutionary approach to devolution or the most expensive work-from-home setup in British history. He wants to establish a satellite No. 10 office in his hometown, presumably so he can attend cabinet meetings in his slippers and blame the broadband when he misses a vote.
The pitch is straightforward: bring government closer to the people by physically relocating the Prime Minister’s office 200 miles north. What could go wrong? Only the constitutional convention that the head of government should probably be in the same room as Parliament when it’s in session. But Burnham is convinced that Zoom calls and occasional train rides will solve the North-South divide, a problem that has resisted every policy intervention since 1987.
Why would a sitting Prime Minister voluntarily split their time between two cities? Because nothing says “I’m serious about levelling up” like announcing you won’t actually be there. The logistics alone are a masterclass in self-sabotage: secure communications networks in two locations, security details splitting their attention, and the fundamental awkwardness of explaining to world leaders why your PM is dialling in from a coffee shop in Stockport.
The press release will inevitably use the word “bold.” It will not address why the government couldn’t just, say, devolve actual power to Manchester instead of making the Prime Minister a commuter. Burnham gets to claim he’s revolutionary. Labour gets a feel-good story about regional investment. And Parliament gets a Prime Minister who might miss the next three confidence votes because the Virgin Trains WiFi is down again.
This is not policy. This is performance art masquerading as decentralisation.