Lord Barwell Report

I’d always imagined being the Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff would be exciting. I’m an avid fan of The West Wing. My shelves at home are laced with various well-thumbed copies of Anthony Seldon’s books on Prime Ministers and Number 10 staff. The drama and challenge of being at the centre, balancing the political, national and personal on a day-to-day and hour-by-hour basis; it would be like 24, but with more ministerial Red Boxes. Heck, it could even be quite funny: whether the reality is more like Yes, Prime Minister or The Thick of It, it certainly sounds more interesting than, say, working in IT. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, by the way: I don’t want The Guardian reading this and thinking me a snob.

Anyhow, with this somewhat glamourous model of being a PM’s Chief of Staff in my head, I was eager to hear what it was like from the horse’s mouth. A newly ennobled Lord, Gavin Barwell served as the Leo to Theresa May’s President Bartlett for two years between 2017 and 2019 (and is not a horse, I hasten to add). His appointment came following the dismissal of Nick Timothy and Fiona Hill, his predecessors, following the disastrous 2017 election result. He had to steer the ship of state through Brexit, Grenfell, the Skripal incident and numerous other trials and tribulations that would probably strike even Aaron Sorkin as a bit much. It’s no surprise then that the picture he painted was sounded a tad more agonizing than exciting.

As it’s a job without a definite description (it doesn’t really hire from a local Job Centre Plus) Barwell sought to tell the motley assembly of OUCA’s finest and some interested Christ Church students (hopefully I’m both) just what his time as the Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff behind that big black door entailed.  He came to the job in unenviable circumstances. Barwell lost his old Parliamentary seat, Croydon Central, at the 2017 general election. It was the Saturday morning after when he received a phone call from the Prime Minster that turned from an apology into a job offer. Alongside the benefits and unique insight into the political process that being an MP had provided for him, Barwell also found himself with a Prime Minister in a far weaker political position than anyone expected even a few weeks before, with Brexit to deliver without a majority of Conservative MPs in the House of Commons. Not an easy job on its own, but that’s on top of the habitual strains of acting as the Prime Ministerial gate-keeper on a day-by-day basis. It was up to him to decide who could come and go into the PM’s office; he had to know Theresa May’s mind better than she did at times.

He told us that his job involved a little bit of everything. He not only acted as the Prime Minister’s senior advisor but had to manage the other Special Advisors (SPADs) across Whitehall as despite working for ministers, they are appointed by the PM. Something to remember for all of you PPE students looking for jobs in a couple of years’ time.  So, Lord Barwell was at the centre of the governmental nexus, coordinating, negotiating, crisis-managing; generally trying to keep the show on the road. Barwell admitted the impact on his personal life was huge: his wife was deeply annoyed to discover that he had more calls on his phone from Philip Hammond and Julian Smith than from her and his family. He was doing days stretching from 4:30AM to 11PM on a weekly basis. To do hours like that and not go bonkers is in itself remarkable; I’m sure they sound pretty outlandish to any self-respecting student. But to do all that whilst at the apex of political power, continually confronted by decisions that impact the lives of millions, is a tribute to Lord Barwell’s strength of character and profound sense of duty.

Still, that doesn’t mean that the government he oversaw was one that was entirely well-held together. That is not down to him, as far as I can tell, but a product of the perilous position he found it in . Now, it’s easier to say in these heady days of 80 seats majorities, where Brexit is done and Jeremy Corbyn is vanquished, to forget that the May government was assailed from all sides and struggled to keep on top of everything it was faced with. Barwell was adamant that Mrs May’s deal had come closer to passing than anyone realised. On the day it went down to it third defeat, he said they had been intensely negotiating with around 10 Labour MPs and 20 Tory rebels in order to get it through. To no avail, obviously. Barwell acted as if it was a failure to count that as solely down to the government’s defeat, which I picked up on with a question afterwards. Theresa May had once said you had to believe in Brexit if you wanted to deliver it.  Barwell labelled Brexit the politics of “hate and division” the day after the referendum. Was that not setting them up for trouble from the beginning?

The Lord demurred, but politely. He made clear he was a democrat and had acted to deliver the result. We might disagree on the merits of how he did so, but his commitment was clear. So he was on all areas of policy he was quizzed on after his sppech, with some fascinating answers about how to deal with the housing crisis and the merits of HS2. His comments about the sclerotic nature of British infrastructure projects and the institutional failure to check on delivery in the Civil Service even brought to mind Dominic Cummings. Perhaps the shift in dynamic in Number 10 between Prime Ministerial teams was less sharp than we thought.

Gavin Barwell thus made for an excellent speaker. Down to earth, open to questions and willing to answer honestly. I’m glad that he chose, at random, to apply for a job in politics after leaving Cambridge. It got him, in a roundabout way, to Number 10. British politics is better for having dedicated public servants like him, even if they do come from the other place.

William Atkinson is a second year reading History at Christ Church