Thoughts from the mind of Ben Welby

Tag: Trust in government

Britain’s trust problem isn’t what it once was

Earlier this week I was having a conversation about data centres, AI, and the fairly febrile state of mind surrounding both of them at the moment.

There are sensible arguments to have about where data centres go, what they require and who benefits from them. There are even bigger arguments about what AI might do to work, to public services and to the institutions we rely on. But both also seem to have become lightning rods for a wider uncertainty about where all this is heading, who is in control of it, and whether the people making the decisions can be trusted to make them well.

And in the course of the conversation, my colleague Barbara asked whether I’d had a look at the most recent OECD work on public trust.

I hadn’t. Which was a surprise given that public trust is something I come back to quite often.

It’s central to the thinking I’ve done about data in government and whether people feel they have any meaningful say in policymaking. It turns up in apparently narrower questions, like rolling out CivWifi for all, and in much bigger ones about what sort of institutions are trusted enough to carry us through whatever AI does to the world of work.

And yet, despite that, I’d completely missed the fact that the OECD’s latest edition had come out. I hadn’t seen anyone give it much coverage either. Maybe it simply passed me by over the summer.

But I think back to the 2024 edition, which also seemed to pass without much comment, and I think public trust is hugely underweighted in the way we talk and think about the challenges facing the UK and elsewhere. If I’d been in any of the conversations about the missions (RIP?), I would have called rebuilding public trust one of them. Not because trust is an end in itself, or because everybody ought to agree with government, but because as we’ve seen, it’s hard to do very much that is difficult, disruptive or long term if large numbers of people start from the assumption that government is incompetent, dishonest, unfair, uninterested in them, or some combination of the four.

AI is already a trust question

Anyway, back to the trust survey. For the first time, the OECD asked people what they expect if government agencies use AI. The British results do not say that people are simply against it.

They are more uncertain than that. 39% are confident AI would produce more tailored services and 36% that it would reduce government costs. When the questions turn to protecting personal information, keeping humans in control of important decisions, transparency and fair treatment, confidence sits between 31% and 35%.

But on all six measures Britain is less positive than the OECD average.1

Continue reading

Here’s one weird trick that could save Keir Starmer

Editorial illustration of UK electoral reform: an ink-splattered constituency map of the UK, breaks into coloured pieces while ballot papers flow from a cracked ballot box towards citizens gathered around discussion tables. In the background there is the Palace of Westminster and in the foreground a multi-coloured proportional seat chart suggests a more representative voting system.

I am sorry about the title.

Not very sorry, obviously. But sorry enough to acknowledge that “one weird trick” belongs more naturally beside adverts for miraculous belly-fat solutions, obscure pension loopholes, and things dentists apparently hate. And that it is not usually the hook into a conversation about democratic renewal.

Still, I think there is this weird trick available to Keir Starmer.

It is this: govern.

Govern with the majority he has to begin fixing one of the things that is most obviously, repeatedly, structurally broken in British politics. Not by avoiding disagreement. Not by finding the correct grid of announceables. Not by setting up the right combination of technocratic delivery boards. Not by locating the mythical median voter hiding somewhere between a focus group in Nuneaton and a laminated pledge card.

Govern with the majority he has to fix British politics by making votes mean something closer to what voters intend them to mean.

In other words: electoral reform.

I know. I know. Nothing says “urgent political response to last week’s electoral earthquake and this week’s leadership crisis” like constitutional reform. I know you and everyone else is crying out: at last, regional deliberative democracy methodologies.

And yet. It kind of feels like precisely the moment when you swing for the fences and you say the bigger thing.

Because the noise now is all about Starmer. Whether he can survive. Whether he should survive. Whether the speech worked. Whether the cabinet is wobbling, marching, whispering, briefing, plotting, or merely standing near a door with an unusually thoughtful expression.

This is Westminster’s favourite kind of drama, because it can be reported almost entirely through human weather. Who is up. Who is down. Who is loyal. Who is “loyal”. Who is thinking of the party. Who is thinking of the country. Who is thinking of the country in a way that it just so happens involves them becoming prime minister instead.

And some of that matters. Of course it does. Leadership matters. Judgement matters. Political authority matters. If a prime minister cannot command confidence, that is not a trivial problem.

But the problem runs deeper.

The danger is that the Labour party convinces itself that this is fundamentally a personnel issue. Change the leader, change the mood, change the story. A new face, a new operation, a new grid, a new solemn promise that lessons have been learned and listening has occurred.  

Perhaps that would help. Perhaps it would not. But I reckon the forces now swirling around Starmer would swirl around whoever succeeded him.

Because I don’t think last week’s elections were really simply a verdict on one man.

I think we’ve been getting closer to this sort of outcome for years.

The electoral map was wobbling. Now it has toppled.

Reform is no longer merely an irritation on the right of the Conservative Party. The Greens are no longer merely a place for protest votes in seats where everyone already owns a bicycle. The Liberal Democrats continue to possess their strange and enduring ability to appear locally inevitable while nationally implausible. Independents, local parties, national parties and post-party moods are all tugging at the fabric.

The country is not behaving like a two-party country.

It has not done for some time. But last week made the point harder to avoid. Voters are moving in different directions at once. They are not simply swinging neatly from red to blue or blue to red, like a polite constitutional pendulum maintained by a retired civil servant in a cardigan. They are fragmenting, protesting, experimenting, hedging, punishing, searching.

And Westminster is still trying to cram that into a machine built for a different political world.

Continue reading