Andy Burnham’s premiership may have only just started, but a theme has emerged: the new Prime Minister likes to talk about ideas that are unlikely to happen. Alongside his recent statement that care workers should be the “best paid people in society”, he has added the claim that his shake-up to devolution in England “will increase the case” for a written constitution.
At its most superficial, Burnham’s comment suggests his devolution reforms, which include giving more power to mayors, are more significant than they actually are. While mayors may soon have limited control over some taxes, among some other powers, the reality is that the announcements contained in the “New Model of Government” paper are a relatively small development in the history of devolution. Suggesting the reforms so significant that they could lead to a written constitution helps give the contrary impression.
Beyond the spin, the idea of a written constitution taps into a political conversation that progressives increasingly follow: the belief that Britain’s problems cannot be solved within the traditional constitutional order. This view has dominated Westminster since the late Nineties, and made the last three decades some of the most constitutionally radical in modern British history. It’s brought devolution to Scotland and Wales, as well as new mayors for much of England and an unrecognizable House of Lords. Change the system, the thinking goes, and outcomes will improve. And if the outcomes don’t get better, the system simply hasn’t been changed enough.
Burnham’s devolution announcement is the latest variation on this theme. And by floating the prospect of a written constitution, he is hinting that his change to the system is going further than his predecessors dared. But even if that was true, and his latest policies did pave the way for a single codified constitution of the United Kingdom, to what end? The fact that the UK does not have a written constitution doesn’t make Britain harder to govern, it actually makes it easier.
In most countries, the constitution is elevated above all other laws. New pieces of legislation must not contradict it or they will be struck down; politicians seeking to change the constitution must jump sometimes insurmountable hurdles.
Such is the flexibility of the British constitution that a prime minister, having never won a general election and with no mandate or manifesto to call upon, can simply announce a whole series of reforms to devolution in England. If we had a written constitution, in which the relationship between devolved and central authority was much more rigid, his recent policy announcements would be much more difficult — perhaps even practically impossible.
The fact that Burnham can so casually reform government speaks to the power he now has as prime minister: within our existing constitution. He sits atop an enormous Labour majority in the House of Commons that can legislate on a wider range of issues and have enough time left before the next general election to use the Parliament Act to override any objections from the House of Lords. If Burnham has the policies to make Britain a better country, he has the power to deliver them. He could even legislate to make care workers the best paid people in the country. As our recent history shows, the problem isn’t the constitution, it’s the ideas and the will of our politicians.






