There is a kind of Britishness that we are in danger of losing – the Britishness we forgot.
Not the puffed-up, flag-waving pantomime version peddled by the Right, nor the bloodless managerial tone of the current Labour leadership — but something quieter, deeper, and infinitely more real.
Keir Starmer doesn’t have it. Increasingly reactive, cautious, and chameleonic, he appears to be calibrating his every word based on the latest polling twitch. Labour recently fell below the Tories and Reform UK in some polls, and lo and behold, Starmer is suddenly furious about illegal immigration. It looks and smells like tactics, not strategy.
To be fair, his long-term strategy is arguably more grounded: working internationally to address the causes of migration. But the recent tough-talking pivot isn’t about that. It’s about short-term electioneering ahead of the May local elections.
Buy Cruel Britannia in print here. Buy the Cruel Britannia ebook here. Or just click on the image!
And it’s a dangerous game. Because when you echo the framing of the far right — even to “reclaim” the issue — you don’t neutralise it. You legitimise it. You hand them quotes they can use against you for years.
More damning still, left-wing anger — real, grounded, justified fury about things like NHS privatisation, which has demonstrably harmed millions — gets none of this reactive respect. It’s not taken seriously. It’s seen as a liability. Starmer doesn’t pivot toward it; he sidelines it.
The message is clear: the Right’s anger is dangerous and must be appeased; the Left’s anger is inconvenient and must be managed. That’s not leadership. That’s cowardice disguised as strategy. Britishness isn’t found in chasing the latest polling bump. It’s in standing for something that doesn’t change depending on the room you’re in.
Starmer represents a vacuum – and into that vacuum steps a false idea of Britishness, peddled by the Right. It is an idea built not on shared values but on exclusion. Not on pride but on fear. They offer a Britishness made of border controls, Brexit, culture wars, and chest-thumping nostalgia. It’s an identity based on who’s not allowed in, rather than what we stand for together. What they call “British values” are often just resentment with a Union Jack filter.
It’s fake. It’s performance. It’s control dressed up as tradition.
But people fall for it — even people who should know better — because it sounds like something. It feels solid. There’s a craving right now for definition, for belonging, for a sense of rootedness.
One friend of mine, a reasonable man, admitted he finds far-right rhetoric increasingly persuasive – because it at least pretends to offer an identity. Something to hold onto. When Labour seems hollow and the Left seems sidelined, that simplistic story starts to appeal.
So maybe it’s time we reminded ourselves — and everyone else — what Britishness really is.
It’s not heritage, or history, or even tea (though we may have to have a fight about that). It’s a feeling. A stance. A posture.
It’s this:
Britishness is a quiet resilience — not bombastic, but stubborn in the face of hardship. A sense of fair play, even if imperfectly practised. Wry humour, even in tragedy. A love of the underdog and a suspicion of anyone who tries too hard to seem important.
It’s layered identity — Britishness is being Welsh, Scottish, English, Northern Irish, and something larger. It’s a cultural richness — from Shakespeare to Stormzy, the Beatles to Zadie Smith, grime to the Proms, embracing the cultures of everyone who has ever settled on these shores.
It’s a deep, instinctive rejection of pomp. A hatred of bullies. A raised eyebrow at anyone who takes themselves too seriously.
Spike Milligan called it “pricking the bubble of pomposity.” John Lennon told the posh crowd at the Royal Variety Show to “rattle your jewellery.” This is our tradition: deflation of the self-important, defence of the overlooked.
This attitude is why we were so effective in fighting the Nazis during World War Two – not only did we not like Hitler’s politics; we didn’t like his manner. Britishness didn’t just oppose fascism — it took the piss out of it.
We mock everything, but we also care — deeply.
So let’s say it clearly:
Britishness is collective contrarianism.
It might sound paradoxical, but that’s the point. We have a proud and peculiar tradition of refusing to be told what to do, and still doing the right thing anyway.
It’s the refusal to be told what to think — especially by people who look too sure of themselves — coupled with a strong sense that fairness matters. We don’t accept assertions at face value — unless we feel like it.
It’s the instinct to say “sod off” to authority – we don’t accept nonsense rhetoric from know-nothing individuals – coupled with the ability to act together, creating things that are better for everybody.
We are suspicious of slogans and sentimentalism. It wasn’t with romantic nationalism that the NHS was built. It was because the people of the day were tired of seeing others suffer the way they had.
There’s something powerful in that idea of “we don’t buy bullshit, but we do believe in each other.” That’s where the NHS came from — born out of war, forged by sceptical working-class voices, but rooted in shared humanity.
So maybe Britishness isn’t about flag-waving or bloodlines or even tradition in the usual sense. Maybe it’s about questioning everything… and still showing up for each other when it counts.
That’s the Britishness we forgot. And it’s time we remembered. Because if we don’t reclaim it, others will keep redefining it — until it’s just border fences and bunting.
We’ve never taken kindly to being told who we are. So let’s say it ourselves, and say it properly this time.
Go on, then. Tell me I’m wrong.
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Cruel Britannia is available
in either print or eBook format here:
The Livingstone Presumption is available
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Health Warning: Government! is now available
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The first collection, Strong Words and Hard Times,
is still available in either print or eBook format here:
Collective contrarianism: against chameleons and charlatans, and for the Britishness we forgot
There is a kind of Britishness that we are in danger of losing – the Britishness we forgot.
Not the puffed-up, flag-waving pantomime version peddled by the Right, nor the bloodless managerial tone of the current Labour leadership — but something quieter, deeper, and infinitely more real.
Keir Starmer doesn’t have it. Increasingly reactive, cautious, and chameleonic, he appears to be calibrating his every word based on the latest polling twitch. Labour recently fell below the Tories and Reform UK in some polls, and lo and behold, Starmer is suddenly furious about illegal immigration. It looks and smells like tactics, not strategy.
To be fair, his long-term strategy is arguably more grounded: working internationally to address the causes of migration. But the recent tough-talking pivot isn’t about that. It’s about short-term electioneering ahead of the May local elections.
Buy Cruel Britannia in print here. Buy the Cruel Britannia ebook here. Or just click on the image!
And it’s a dangerous game. Because when you echo the framing of the far right — even to “reclaim” the issue — you don’t neutralise it. You legitimise it. You hand them quotes they can use against you for years.
More damning still, left-wing anger — real, grounded, justified fury about things like NHS privatisation, which has demonstrably harmed millions — gets none of this reactive respect. It’s not taken seriously. It’s seen as a liability. Starmer doesn’t pivot toward it; he sidelines it.
The message is clear: the Right’s anger is dangerous and must be appeased; the Left’s anger is inconvenient and must be managed. That’s not leadership. That’s cowardice disguised as strategy. Britishness isn’t found in chasing the latest polling bump. It’s in standing for something that doesn’t change depending on the room you’re in.
Starmer represents a vacuum – and into that vacuum steps a false idea of Britishness, peddled by the Right. It is an idea built not on shared values but on exclusion. Not on pride but on fear. They offer a Britishness made of border controls, Brexit, culture wars, and chest-thumping nostalgia. It’s an identity based on who’s not allowed in, rather than what we stand for together. What they call “British values” are often just resentment with a Union Jack filter.
It’s fake. It’s performance. It’s control dressed up as tradition.
But people fall for it — even people who should know better — because it sounds like something. It feels solid. There’s a craving right now for definition, for belonging, for a sense of rootedness.
One friend of mine, a reasonable man, admitted he finds far-right rhetoric increasingly persuasive – because it at least pretends to offer an identity. Something to hold onto. When Labour seems hollow and the Left seems sidelined, that simplistic story starts to appeal.
So maybe it’s time we reminded ourselves — and everyone else — what Britishness really is.
It’s not heritage, or history, or even tea (though we may have to have a fight about that). It’s a feeling. A stance. A posture.
It’s this:
Spike Milligan called it “pricking the bubble of pomposity.” John Lennon told the posh crowd at the Royal Variety Show to “rattle your jewellery.” This is our tradition: deflation of the self-important, defence of the overlooked.
This attitude is why we were so effective in fighting the Nazis during World War Two – not only did we not like Hitler’s politics; we didn’t like his manner. Britishness didn’t just oppose fascism — it took the piss out of it.
We mock everything, but we also care — deeply.
So let’s say it clearly:
Britishness is collective contrarianism.
It might sound paradoxical, but that’s the point. We have a proud and peculiar tradition of refusing to be told what to do, and still doing the right thing anyway.
It’s the refusal to be told what to think — especially by people who look too sure of themselves — coupled with a strong sense that fairness matters. We don’t accept assertions at face value — unless we feel like it.
It’s the instinct to say “sod off” to authority – we don’t accept nonsense rhetoric from know-nothing individuals – coupled with the ability to act together, creating things that are better for everybody.
We are suspicious of slogans and sentimentalism. It wasn’t with romantic nationalism that the NHS was built. It was because the people of the day were tired of seeing others suffer the way they had.
There’s something powerful in that idea of “we don’t buy bullshit, but we do believe in each other.” That’s where the NHS came from — born out of war, forged by sceptical working-class voices, but rooted in shared humanity.
So maybe Britishness isn’t about flag-waving or bloodlines or even tradition in the usual sense. Maybe it’s about questioning everything… and still showing up for each other when it counts.
That’s the Britishness we forgot. And it’s time we remembered. Because if we don’t reclaim it, others will keep redefining it — until it’s just border fences and bunting.
We’ve never taken kindly to being told who we are. So let’s say it ourselves, and say it properly this time.
Go on, then. Tell me I’m wrong.
Vox Political needs your help!
If you want to support this site
(but don’t want to give your money to advertisers)
you can make a one-off donation here:
Be among the first to know what’s going on! Here are the ways to manage it:
1) Register with us by clicking on ‘Subscribe’ (bottom right of the home page). You can then receive notifications of every new article that is posted here.
2) Follow VP on Twitter @VoxPolitical
3) Like the Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/VoxPolitical/
Join the Vox Political Facebook page.
4) You could even make Vox Political your homepage at http://voxpoliticalonline.com
5) Follow Vox Political writer Mike Sivier on BlueSky
6) Join the MeWe page at https://mewe.com/p-front/voxpolitical
7) Feel free to comment!
And do share with your family and friends – so they don’t miss out!
If you have appreciated this article, don’t forget to share it using the buttons at the bottom of this page. Politics is about everybody – so let’s try to get everybody involved!
Buy Vox Political books so we can continue
fighting for the facts.
Cruel Britannia is available
in either print or eBook format here:
The Livingstone Presumption is available
in either print or eBook format here:
Health Warning: Government! is now available
in either print or eBook format here:
The first collection, Strong Words and Hard Times,
is still available in either print or eBook format here:
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