Boris the booster: Worksop ponders PM speech long on laughs but short on reality

Voters in old red wall town remain enamoured of Johnson’s way with words – but some wonder if Labour has potential leader of equal appeal waiting in wings

Worksop was once a confirmed red wall town, but the force of ‘BoJo’ remains strong with locals (AFP via Getty)

It was 40 minutes of unadulterated booster-ism: Boris Johnson’s conference performance – rarely has the word felt more fitting for a prime minister’s speech – was filled with visions of higher wages, lower unemployment and more skills for all.

It did not do anything so mundane as deal with real world issues like surging gas prices, supermarket shortages and tax hikes.

On the streets of Worksop on Wednesday afternoon, the tactic appears to have broadly hit the mark.

Across several hours in this Nottinghamshire market town, shoppers, traders and – that oft-most reliable of zeitgeist-barometers – Wetherspoon drinkers all tell The Independent that, yes, they still liked the cut of BoJo’s jibe.

What about the fuel crisis he’s muddled over? The media’s fault. What about supermarket shortages? Caused by a haulage industry that has long under-valued its drivers. What about 140,000 dead to Covid? An unprecedented situation that no one could be blamed for.

Forget Teflon Tony. This is Bakelite Boris – a Conservative prime minister apparently resistant to even the most corrosive of cock-ups.

“I like him,” says Wayne Nixon, a forklift truck driver having an afternoon Carling and black in the Liquorice Gardens pub. “He’s dealt with Brexit, dealt with Covid well enough – that furlough scheme helped millions – and now I think he’ll deal with levelling up. He doesn’t carp. He gets things done.”

Dean Millard: ‘You have to help people but money’s not limitless’ (Independent)

Look away now, Sir Keir: in this quintessential red-wall-turned-blue patch of the East Midlands, the prime minister appears to remain as popular today as when he led the Tories to their 2019 general election landslide.

His gags about building back beaver – lame as they might be – work because they are knowingly daft. When he makes fun of the Labour Party, people smile – not because they necessarily dislike the Labour Party but because they do like fun.

Shouldn’t his speech have been more serious in a time of multiple hardships? Was it right to laugh and joke on the same day he cut universal credit by £20 a week? A shrug here in this pub.

“I’ve worked all my life,” says Nixon, a 54-year-old grandfather of four. “And the government’s never given me 20 quid a week.”

Another drinker overhears and chimes in. “Six billion pounds that’s costing a year,” says Dean Millard, 49 and himself unemployed. “You have to help people but money’s not limitless.”

A market trader, Ian Coldwell, later echoes the sentiment. “Everyone thinks the world owes them a living,” the 55-year-old says between selling bedsheets and towels. “It doesn’t.”

Agree with the sentiment or not, there may be something to extrapolate from it. Much media attention – and repeated Labour attacks – have focused on the fact that almost six million people will be plunged into ever greater hardship by the removal of the (temporary) uplift.

Perhaps someone somewhere in Johnson’s inner circle has come to the conclusion that there are many million more people who do not benefit from this and who – now the pandemic is coming to a close – do not necessarily agree with its principle.

In any case, what do Coldwell’s customers think of Johnson? “We don’t really ask, love,” says wife Sue, 54. “He doesn’t tend to come up when we’re talking about towels.” Touché.

Yet, standing here on market day for 15 minutes is to hear politics very much discussed.

The lack of buses, the number of homeless on the streets, the empty shops – all these are concerns in Worksop. So, shouldn’t the prime minister be doing something about just those things?

“Tell Boris if he can get my No 19 to turn up, he has my vote for life,” notes one woman.

Ian and Sue Coldwell: ‘Everyone thinks the world owes them a living ... It doesn’t’ (Independent)

The positivity isn’t universal, it should be said. This is an old mining town – it returned a Labour MP for 84 years until 2019 – and the prime minister’s reference to Margaret Thatcher in his speech will have been about as welcome as a canary dying down the pit.

“I’m in a golfing group [with ex-miners],” says Coldwell. “They’ll be calling him everything from a pig to a dog for that one.”

Stephan Cottan, a retired engineer, is less crude but shares that opinion. “Get Brexit done?” the retired engineer asks as he sits in Old Market Square waiting for his flu jab. “It’s been one disaster after another, hasn’t it? He’s a clown.”

He, himself, was a lifelong Labour voter up until 2019. He couldn’t, he says, bring himself to give his cross to Jeremy Corbyn but nor was he for turning blue. “First time in my life I didn’t vote,” he says.

What about next time? “I don’t know,” the 69-year-old grandfather of one responds despondently. “I just don’t know.”

Zoe Edge finds the PM refreshing: ‘He’s human’ (Independent)

They’re unsure, too, in The Barbers Shop in Bridge Place.

What do they think of Boris? “Honestly, love?” replies Jeanette Cullingworth, 50. “I think he needs a bloody good haircut. I don’t know who does it, but I wouldn’t own up to it.”

By her side, colleague Zoe Edge understands his (non-hair related) appeal. “I think whenever something goes wrong people just blame the prime minister whoever it is,” she says. “Like with gas prices going up. Awful but not his fault.”

She is, the 31-year-old admits, not that “clued up” about politics yet she find the prime minister refreshing. “He’s human,” she says.

Which may be the crux of things today. Boris’s speech may be light on policy. It may not even be altogether engaged with reality. But he delivers it with verve and with zest in a way that Sir Keir never does.

So, how can Labour combat that? It is a question, which back in Old Market Square, Cottan begins discussing with friend (and Labour voter) Andrew Beavers. The party needs someone with the same natural ease of touch, they conclude; someone with equal appeal.

Who would that be? Both men agree on just one name: Andy Burnham.