ell, there was one person at least who thought Kemi Badenoch had absolutely nailed it at this week's prime minister's questions. And that person was Kemi Badenoch. She could not have been more pleased with herself if she had tried. No one laughed louder and longer at her own jokes than she did. No one admired her laser focus as much as she did. Kemi is the paid up chief executive of her own fanclub.
As for the rest of her Tory MPs – aside from Chris Philp, who is basically a parasitic homunculus – they weren't quite so convinced by Kemi's performance. She had been so entranced with her one-liners, she had forgotten to ask any serious questions. And never forget how low the gag bar is in the Commons. What passes as a joke at PMQs wouldn't even register as humour in normal conversation. Wouldn't even elicit the groan that comes from the recognition of a gag format.
Maybe Kemi was just having a bad day. Had woken up and realised she didn't have any questions for the prime minister and had decided to busk it instead. Maybe she was so carried away with the excitement of the Tories no longer being in third place in the opinion polls – mainly because Reform have tanked rather than any Conservative surge – that she decided to give herself a day off. Or maybe she's stalled somewhat. Having found she could get under Keir Starmer's skin, she merely bounces off Andy Burnham's. Compared with Kemi, Andy looks and sounds like a normal person.
The session began with Kemi trying to make fun of Labour's as-yet-unpublished – possibly even unwritten – 10-year plan. Where was it, she asked. Burnham had a ready answer. It would be presented in the Commons before Christmas. Answers don't come much more straight than that. Kemi looked almost disappointed. She was sure the 10-year plan had been kicked into the long grass. On Tuesday she had joked it would be a nine-year plan by the time it was published. Now the joke was on her.
It was as though Kemi was just going through a set list of topics from which she could riff. As if she was a standup comedian doing improv. Next in her sights came the budget. Not that she had any real observation to make about it. But she did have a gag and that was all that mattered. It was the "do nothing" budget. Kemi cracked herself up at that. Turning to the stony faces behind her for approval. You know, the "do nothing" budget? Get it? Er … yes. But it wasn't funny the first time.
Burnham meanwhile seemed rather surprised by the turn of events. He had been expecting something rather more taxing. Something less lightweight. He doesn't really get Kemi's obsession with panto. Mind you, it's only going to get worse as we get closer and closer to the Christmas season. It won't be long before Kemi shouts out: "He's behind you" and convulses on the floor with laughter.
So Andy just continued to do his Mr Congeniality act. The career politician with the priceless ability to sound as if he isn't a career politician. Someone you are inclined to like and trust on sight. The bedside manner of a doctor who can somehow make you feel better about yourself when telling you your illness has become terminal. The sort of person who you feel guilty about for not having responded to treatment.
By now Kemi was about halfway through her routine and had decided it was time to talk about the Rosebank oilfield. Might as well. Hadn't mentioned it for a week or so. Not that she had anything new to say, but that wasn't going to stop her. The old ones are … the old ones. Andy merely replied that it was the Tories who had drawn up the licence and that Labour had already given the go-ahead to Jackdaw. Rosebank would be ready when it was ready. It wasn't as if it was particularly time sensitive.
For reasons best known to herself, Kemi now thought it was time for a Russell Brand gag at Ed Miliband's expense. On Tuesday, Kemi had made a point of refusing to do this. Of being the grownup when invited by a rightwing journalist to score points over Labour at a press conference. She wasn't going to do this, she said. It was both disrespectful to Brand's victims and wrong to attack politicians from whatever party for associations they had made before a person's crimes were in the public domain. It had been a strange moment. One that possibly marked Kemi out as grown-up potential.
It turned out to be an aberration. Tuesday was Tuesday. Wednesday was another day. The victims had had more than enough time now. And who couldn't resist the opportunity of taking a pop at Ed Mil? If Kemi had any sense of history, she would have remembered that Margaret Thatcher had once lionised Jimmy Savile. Most politicians have done things they regret. Miliband had appeared to be having second thoughts about meeting Brand even as he was interviewing him.
The exchanges ended with Kemi listing some of her complaints against Labour and asking whether the Labour MPs really thought it had been worth replacing Starmer with Burnham. This was not just unfunny, it was totally half witted. Because even her own backbenchers can see that Labour MPs are completely blissed out with Andy. He might be more vibes than delivery at the moment, but you can't argue with the numbers.
Labour are a good six to eight points ahead of the Tories in the polls. Something that was unimaginable when Keir had been removed in July. Voters seem to like him. They feel he is honest and respond to his positivity. They accept that the Tories damaged the economy and are willing to give him time to put things right. And compared with Kemi, Burnham looks and sounds like a leader. Someone who can put party politics to one side when needed. Not something you can say about Kemi at this PMQs. All she had was jokes. And the jokes weren't even that funny.