Sunak Blowing Smoke

You can tell everything about the state of a political party by its autumn party conference. For the Conservatives, last week’s shindig held at Manchester’s Central Convention Complex had all the energy of an autopsy. If Rishi Sunak was hoping for a favourable eulogy however, he was to be disappointed. As you’d expect when you’re 20 points behind in the polls, the event was an utter shambles—characterised by predictably empty chairs, thinly-veiled leadership bids, a rapturous reception for Nigel Farage (who some believe is destined to lead the party), and of course the token eviction. 

Possibly fearing an eviction himself, Sunak scrabbled around desperately during his keynote address for a soundbite to distract the masses. He tried to channel Margaret Thatcher: “This Conservative party, the party of the grocer’s daughter and the pharmacist’s son, will always be the party of enterprise, the party of small business.” He called Westminster “a broken system,” and claimed “We’ve had 30 years of a political system which incentivises the easy decision, not the right one.” He even tried to present himself as a candidate for change: “Politicians spent more time campaigning for change than actually delivering it. It doesn’t have to be this way. I won’t be this way. Our mission is to fundamentally change our country.”

Really Rishi?! Remind us who’s been at the helm for the past 13 years? You just can’t present yourself as the great reformer, when as both chancellor and prime minister you presided over the greatest tax rise since the Second World War.  

Still, let’s be generous. Perhaps Rishi had something up his Gucci sleeve after all. First up on the agenda was the scrapping of A-levels and T-levels, combining them into a new single qualification called the Advanced British Standard. Next, after much dithering Sunak is going to cancel the northern leg of HS2—the £100 billion vanity project, he thinks the nation will be glad to save £36 billion on. The PM will apparently do “whatever is necessary” to stop the boats (besides active intervention presumably), and he even confidently claimed to know that “A man is a man and a woman is a woman.” 

Then he unleashed his ace in the hole, a blitzkrieg on smoking:

I propose that in future we raise the smoking age by one year, every year. That means a 14-year-old today will never be legally sold a cigarette and that they—and their generation—can grow up smoke-free. 

Wait a minute, what?! There are desperate bids to sound radical, and then there’s illiberal gibberish. Which 3am focus group in hell came up with that one? What are we going to have come 2075: septuagenarian old-age pensioners hanging around outside the local off-licence, asking their octogenarian siblings to “buy us some cigs, mate?” Why didn’t anyone else think of raising the age of unpleasant social pastimes in order to eradicate them? Why don’t we raise the age of class-A drugs, or stabbing while we’re at it? Even Liz Truss, the shortest-reigning prime minister in history had the wit to comment “the Conservative Party should stop banning things”. 

What’s worse about Sunak’s policy, is that it hasn’t quite faced the ridicule it deserves. Even self-proclaimed libertarians who dabble in logic from time to time, such as Isabel Oakeshott, have given Rishi’s restriction their seal of approval.

Guess what? I hate smoking too. I’ve never tried it, and never will. However, what other people choose to do in the privacy of their own homes, or in legally designated places has got absolutely nothing to do with me. How do you even stop, once you start going down this road? How about banning sugar, extreme sports, or sex outside of marriage—that would certainly protect the young from unwanted consequences. 

A smoking ban drafted on the back of a discarded Jacinda Ardern cigarette packet tells you everything you need to know about this nominally-conservative government, which quite frankly dishonours the name it fails to live up to. “A smoke-free future” goes far beyond the nanny state, and strays well across the border into authoritarianism. What in God’s name is a law which criminalises the young for committing legal activities in perpetuity?

As I listened to the Sunak speech, I couldn’t help hearing the echoes of John Major’s final hours in government. While Black Wednesday is usually credited with finishing off the Major tenure, there were signs prior to that for anyone willing to notice. The desperately ill-thought through Dangerous Dogs Act, and the risible traffic cone hotline, were obvious indicators of an administration bereft of ideas; a white flag in all but name. Either Sunak is suddenly deeply concerned about 14-year-olds enjoying the occasional puff, or he has begun to surrender too. 

Not only have the Tories seen zero conference bounce from Manchester, but Rishi is clearly out of ideas. His enemies know it, and his wannabe successors are salivating. Sunak isn’t Thatcher, he isn’t new, he isn’t going to stop the boats, and, as things currently stand, he isn’t going to last very long either.