So Boris Johnson didn’t break the promises he had made shortly after becoming prime minister in July 2019, in his election manifesto later that year and on more than 50 other occasions. At least not in parliament. He got Grant Shapps to do it instead.
And who better? Because Shapps is exactly the sort of person that this prime minister needs to get him out of a hole. Someone who knows he is authentically shallow: that there is even less to him than meets the eye. Someone who bizarrely considers his bogus alias of Michael Green to be a sign of cunning. And who – like everyone else – still can’t quite believe his luck at being made a cabinet minister and is determined to enjoy every minute he gets to stay in the job.
For any other minister, being forced to make a Commons statement to announce the government was reneging on its commitments both to build the eastern leg of HS2 to Leeds and a high-speed “Northern Powerhouse Rail” track between Manchester and Leeds might have been a stressful gig. But for the transport minister it was just a day like any other day. A chance to get out of the office and look busy. Grant’s great gift is that he will do precisely as he is told without complaining. The slightly cheesy smile is his default expression and he would have been just as happy making a statement in which the government kept its promises as he was with one that broke them.
Shapps began by breezily outlining the basics of the new integrated rail plan. It was going to cost £96bn and level up the north and the midlands. Various bits would be electrified, Leeds would get a mass transit system and everything was going to be far better than it was now. He wasn’t entirely sure how as it was all fiendishly complicated but it would be very helpful if everyone in the chamber took him at his word rather than asked him any difficult questions.
The shadow transport secretary, Jim McMahon, was understandably sceptical. Why had the government kept making promises on HS2 and NPR if it had no intention of keeping them? Surely it must be obvious to everyone that this watered down version was going to be a severe disappointment to all those who had believed the government was going to revolutionise the transport network in the north.
What had clearly happened was that Boris had only let Rishi Sunak know how much it was all going to cost at the last minute, and the chancellor had pulled the plug on the most expensive bits because – like most of the prime minister’s ideas – it was prohibitively expensive. So what was left was something that would satisfy only a few people and make the government look weak and clueless. And, by the way, it wasn’t a £96bn project. It was a £56bn scheme because £40bn had already been announced or spent on parts of HS2 that were going ahead.
Like Prince Andrew, Grant didn’t break sweat. If anything his smile grew wider. Now he was in his element because this was the time for maximum bullshit. “It’s definitely a £96bn project,” he declared, double-downing on the numbers. In fact it could have been a great deal more – maybe up to £500bn – given the amount of time the same money had been re-announced.
But anyway, the main point was this. The government may appear to have broken a few promises, but it had done so not because it couldn’t be trusted but because it was trying to give northerners an even better transport system than one they could have thought up for themselves. Journey times were going to come down. Apart from ones like London to Leeds that would be 32 minutes slower than in the original plan.
And the really good news was that the work would definitely, definitely be finished in under 10 years – some hope. Better still, Tory MPs with seats where there would have been a lot of construction disruption with little obvious gain from HS2 would be able to tell their constituents they had got their old lives back. Peace and quiet all round. All that was left to do was for red wall Tory MPs who had spent the last two years telling their constituents the government could be relied on to keep its word to tell them they were being levelled up in a different way. As in down.
This actually went down rather better than it might have done. Labour predictably went hard on the broken promises and the obvious shortcomings of the IRP that increasingly looked like it had been written on the back of a cigarette packet, but most of the few dozen Tory MPs in the chamber chose not to pick a fight and instead thanked Shapps for what he had done for their constituencies. Perhaps they were under orders not to make a fuss in public – there’s been enough of that in the last few weeks – and were saving their anger for behind closed doors.
Even so, some Tory MPs did break ranks. Huw Merriman, the Conservative chair of the transport committee, openly attacked the government for not keeping its word. Robbie Moore, Kevin Hollinrake and Craig Tracey also expressed their displeasure. Cities like Bradford, Sheffield, Newcastle and Hull had been completely shafted. There was bugger all in the plan for them. And on the lines that were being built, there was little extra capacity. So passengers would just have to stand up, as they got somewhere a lot less quickly than they would have done under the original proposals, which would also have guaranteed them a seat.
Not that Shapps was bothered. He had done his bit. He may have been transport secretary but he certainly wasn’t in charge: he was just a gofer. It would be Boris’s arse that was on the line. Makes a change from leaves.
John Crace and Zoe Williams will be live on stage in London at a Guardian Live event on 13 December. Join the conversation in-person or online - book tickets here
A Farewell to Calm by John Crace (Guardian Faber, £9.99). To support The Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
