Keir Starmer is considering his political future with the same urgency most people reserve for choosing a Netflix show. Labour MPs and ministers are now openly advising him to set out a timetable for his resignation—not to resign immediately, mind you, but to announce when he might resign at some unspecified future date.
This is what British politics has become: not the resignation itself, but the resignation announcement schedule. The Transport Secretary is among those helpfully suggesting Starmer pick a date, any date, preferably one that doesn’t interfere with summer holidays or bank holidays. One can only assume they’re waiting for August to clear before rolling out the official timeline for the official timeline.
Donald Trump, never one to miss an opportunity to comment on other nations’ internal crises, has already declared on social media that Starmer will resign. This is the political equivalent of spoiling the ending before the opening credits finish. When your downfall is being predicted by a former US president on X, you’ve achieved a certain tier of international embarrassment.
The mood in government has shifted, we’re told by BBC correspondents monitoring the vibes like sommeliers at a funeral. Signs are growing. Pressure is mounting. A timetable may be set. At this rate, Starmer could announce his resignation announcement by autumn, with the actual resignation pencilled in for sometime during the next Parliament.
The truly farcical bit: nobody’s rushing him. They just want him to commit to rushing later.