Since Andy Burnham’s will-he-won’t-he return to Westminster is back in the news, permit me to advance a theory. Andy Burnham is Johnny Depp. Stay with me! We somehow have to make this more fun than immersing ourselves in the remorselessly petty mathematical dynamics of Labour’s national executive committee (NEC).
So here goes: movie-wise, before Pirates of the Caribbean, Johnny Depp used to embody a desirable scarcity model. As a cultural asset he was high-prestige, low-supply, and every rudderless director thought that if only the mysterious Johnny was at the helm of their project, then everything would be rosy. He was different, he was cool, he was hyper-selective, he withheld himself, he didn’t dress like the others, he wasn’t your multiplex guy. And he was, crucially, not available. But Pirates of the Caribbean changed all that and it changed Johnny Depp. After the unexpected mega-success of that film, the actor made himself available, and his aura evaporated. He made the conscious leap to middle-of-the-road A-listery and his cultural premium collapsed. Johnny Depp and his basic eyeliner were in everything, from franchises to mass-market fantasies to a couple of grim court cases with his ex-wife (obviously, Andy hasn’t been involved in even the metaphorical version of the last one, though Burnham v Starmer could be quite the rubbernecking spectacle). And honestly, most of it was highly indifferent. There was suddenly a lot less to him than had met the eye. Availability torched his cachet.
It’s an old cycle. Scarcity gives you an aura, which gives you cultural leverage, but once the leverage has been deployed, you are no longer scarce and you lose the aura. These days, Johnny Depp has been cast out of the multiplex. Riyadh might be the only place he can open a movie, given he’s been reduced to a lucrative bromance with Saudi crown prince Mohammed bin Salman. As Vanity Fair hilariously had it: “Both men knew how it felt to suddenly go from golden boy to outcast.”
Sticking with this metaphor, mainly to avoid talking about Labour’s endlessly excruciating internal politics for another paragraph, if Andy Burnham does contrive a return to Westminster to challenge Keir Starmer, he’ll flop harder than Depp’s outing in The Lone Ranger. And that thing really bombed. The whole point of Andy Burnham, the memoji-headed king over the water, is that he’s over the water. Labour members want him but they can’t have him. He’s like an illicit desire, a thing they yearn for because they can’t possess it, that’s going to instantly seem less appealing the second they land him. Then, once again, the eyes will wander.
But will they land him? That’s the other part of the drama currently gripping Labour, because there’s nothing else to think about in this quiet and settled world. By way of a recap, the Gorton and Denton MP Andrew Gwynne is stepping down. You know when someone literally puts bits of doctor’s notes in his resignation letter that there’s going to be some other stuff you’ve forgotten about the story, so I thank Andrew for the inadvertent reminder that he was actually sacked as a minister and suspended after having been found to have sent various dodgy WhatsApp messages about constituents and other voters. Anyway, medically, he can’t carry on … which might open up a seat for Burnham, who might ride south from Manchester to Westminster on a criminally overpriced train ticket, and challenge Keir Starmer for Labour’s leadership. It is ON!
But is it actually? It all depends on Labour’s ruling body, the NEC. Over the years, many of you might have felt simply unable to face trying to understand how this impenetrable politburo works. So to summarise: the NEC is a thing that any Labour leader who wants to do anything has to have “sewn up”, even though that leader will then be stopped from doing the things they want to do by the parliamentary Labour party, currently a 148-seat majority brute force of myopic self-interest, even though most of them are going to lose their seats in the next election so might actually deign to think about big-picture national interest and growth rather than themselves for two fricking minutes.
I hope that covers any gaps. The NEC is the entity that must give Burnham permission to resign as mayor of Greater Manchester and subsequently to stand as an MP, and current indications are that Keir Starmer has it sufficiently sewn up that it’ll block this one way or another. Even if it doesn’t, alternative branches of future history are available. For instance: Burnham resigns as mayor of Greater Manchester, fights seat, loses to Reform. Or fights seat, while the mayoralty is expensively lost to Reform. Or even, fights seat but gets Boaty McBoatfaced by the Greens. Meanwhile, in most of the scenarios, the bond markets – which you’ll remember Andy is not keen on us being “in hock to” – have a little wobble every time his name is mentioned. In the circuitously reached event he wins the top job, they have a mega-wobble.
Perennially frustrated by his name being linked with a leadership tilt, Burnham spent the hours after Gwynne’s resignation defusing this latest blow-up … no, hang on. Yesterday he could be found in the Guardian, conveniently expanding on his political philosophy. It’s no longer just a little bit of nationalisation and a little bit of wealth taxes. It’s also something called “Manchesterism” – which, spoiler alert, is also not going to even touch the sides of the UK’s deep problems.
As for how this plays out … For now, Burnham is able to bask in the happy worldview of every metro mayor: that everything good that happens is because of them, and everything bad that happens is because of Westminster. Is this the moment for our self-styled indie star to go mainstream? Never underestimate the Labour party’s ability to make a spectacular flop, of course – but I can’t help feeling that Andy would be better off watching this movie rather than starring in it.
Marina Hyde is a Guardian columnist
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