In Defence of Quiet Politics

Late last year, Polly Mackenzie (sometime LibDem political adviser and policy guru) posted on her Substack a critique of the policy failings of successive governments that centred on the metaphor of ‘levers’. For decades, prime ministers have complained that they pull the levers of power and nothing happens. Mackenzie argued cogently that ‘[t]here aren't any levers’. Even in the areas of policy making that look lever-like—changing tax and benefit rates, for example—there is no mechanical connection from policy to outcome. On the contrary, it takes knowledge and analysis to work out the likely effects of a change in a policy. There's plenty of this highly specialised knowledge and analytical capacity around. It is called policy expertise, and governments seem to have got worse and worse at utilising it.

The unpalatable fact is that good policy making is often a tedious process. Developing workable policies needs imagination but also graft. Consultation with stakeholders has to be carried out, not only because their support is needed but also because they will know about potential traps and challenges. The public at large will mainly be uninterested and certainly will lack the inclination to remain engaged over the whole period of policy development. Those who do stay the course will be a select community.

Therein lies a difficulty, because this community will surely contain those with the strongest interests in the outcome. This has fuelled suspicion of policy processes that fly below the radar of public attention. This ‘quiet politics’ enables business interests to prevail, or so Pepper Culpepper argued in his influential study of economic policy making. To counteract the pernicious power of business interests, Culpepper argued that policy making needs to be noisier. Public attention and concern have to be mobilised. Politicians will pay attention to the interests of the mass of voters when voters pay attention to the policies that politicians adopt.

As Culpepper has noted, this has all got much more complicated with the rise of populism. In this context, populism has a well-defined meaning. Insurgent political parties with a low chance of gaining power promise instant policy gratification. The things that the public cares about can all be delivered without the tedium of careful policy development. Competing with populists, mainstream parties are drawn into making similar promises, despite the sure knowledge that they will be discredited in government. The Starmer government promised ‘the highest growth rate in the G7’, which managed to combine technical obscurity with a probability of success no better than a random draw. Now, Andy Burnham is promising transformational policies, although he has at least been canny enough not to say with any precision what they will achieve.

Amid the frenzy, it is time to revisit Culpepper's argument. Perhaps quiet politics is not necessarily as insidious as he argued. There are policies that do not attract voters’ attention which do not favour the wealthy or generate more inequality, where vested interests are not particularly engaged, or if they are engaged, are not pernicious.

The frustrating thing is that, in the UK, quiet policy development work goes on all the time, both in Whitehall and beyond. Think of any policy which could bring widespread benefits, and you will find that much work has already been done. Consider policies to provide more suitable housing for older people. This has potential to be highly beneficial. More people could live independently for longer, and the allocation of the existing housing stock could be improved by reducing under-occupation of traditional homes. The think tank Demos has produced a number of reports on the subject, including one commissioned by the government in 2013. Others have also weighed in, including the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Housing and Care for Older People. The House of Commons Library provided briefings in 2015 and 2021. In 2023, under the Conservative government, the Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities and the Department of Health and Social Care created an Older People's Housing Taskforce, which reported to the Labour government in November 2024.

While there are, no doubt, some pitfalls in this policy area, much of what the Taskforce proposes is not inherently politically contentious. For example, the market might be boosted by the availability of a wider range of tenures. The creation of legal forms to reduce uncertainty in contracting is something that governments do to improve the functioning of markets. This is inherently an area of quiet politics—for most of us, more than quiet: actually soporific. There are interests engaged in the area, notably of prospective developers, who have seen markets for older people's housing thrive in other countries. But interests are required if investment is to happen and need not always evoke responses of suspicion and distrust. Indeed, housing industry associations have sought regulation to address some bad practices in the area precisely because they appreciate that these have the potential to undermine the market for future developments.

What does it tell us that policy work has been going on in this area for over a decade, and yet nothing has happened? Why can't the government adopt measures even when they are, politically speaking, motherhood and apple pie? Having seven prime ministers in ten years is part of the problem, with periodic reshuffles adding to the tremendous churn of ministers. There will be sighs of relief in Whitehall that Burnham has maintained continuity in key areas. While there are many new secretaries of state, a number of ministers grafting away at difficult policy areas are still in place. Matthew Pennycock kept his job: he needs only to stay in post four more months to be the longest-serving housing minister since 2010. Perhaps in his third year in office he will clear enough of his pending tray to grapple with housing for older people.

Brexit added to the policy stasis, not only by making a distinct contribution to political instability, but also by diverting a lot of effort within Whitehall. It also might be mentioned, sotto voce, that the EU provided the UK with a uniquely efficient mechanism for adopting policies, as most directives were transposed through secondary legislation. While Brexiteers shouted about a loss of sovereignty, many measures adopted by this route were uncontroversial in the eyes of parliamentarians and the public.

Behind these immediate issues, better policies are not adopted because the febrile political climate absorbs energy and capacity. The unpalatable implication is that noisy politics does not necessarily bring better policy making. Public attention suffers from a short span: processes are needed to build on moments of public focus and create enduring policies. Yet it seems that this rarely happens in the UK nowadays. Notably, there has been an endless stream of scandals, which are often channelled off into lengthy and expensive public inquiries, only to be followed by another scandal and another inquiry, each producing similar recommendations. The alternative is that the government leaps into action with half-baked measures in response to a public outcry, which is ultimately just as frustrating.

So, what should the new Prime Minister do? His instincts are to go loudly and transformatively. Clearly, ‘go quietly and incrementally’ is not tenable political advice. But perhaps a workable reconciliation is possible: communicate hope, but do not be derailed by chasing public attention. Leave ministers in post and insist that the civil service leaves its experts in post too. A decade of disorder has left plenty of policy work to do; the challenge now is to create the space to do it.