Chris Philp’s colourful body language summed up the feelings of MPs on both sides of Parliament
Chris Philp, the shadow home secretary, looked furious. He always looks furious. The source of his anger has until now been a mystery, but on Wednesday we glimpsed a possible explanation, as he bellowed loudly at the prime minister while pointing vigorously at his own crotch.
The frontbenches in the House of Commons are cramped. The chamber was built with fewer MPs in mind. Members are forced to squeeze their way in, as it were, cheek-to-cheek. And yet Philp always sits with his legs splayed, if not quite at a right angle, then certainly well past 70 degrees. It is Olympic-level manspreading.
On one side of him sat Mims Davies, the shadow women’s minister, on the other was Mel Stride, the shadow chancellor. Both had folded themselves into what space was left by the territorial demands of their colleague’s thighs, crossing their legs and hunching in to make more room.
Kemi Badenoch asked why the government was having an “emergency budget”. Strictly speaking, what we’re getting next week is a Spring Statement, with a few forecasts, but a lot has happened since October, and it won’t be a surprise if it contains a few Budget-like measures.
Keir Starmer replied with the bits of good economic news available to him, but our eyes were drawn instead to Philp, yelling and jabbing his finger violently downwards. We couldn’t hear him, but it was clear that he was trying to draw the prime minister’s attention to an urgent matter in the neighbourhood of his boxer shorts. Perhaps he’d got something caught.
The Tory leader asked about employers’ national insurance. The prime minister accused her of wanting the things tax rises will fund without wanting to pay for them. But along the bench from Badenoch, things were clearly becoming more urgent. Davies had now joined in the shouting, and was also pointing at Philp’s crotch. Perhaps he was in pain. Philp began pointing alternately at Starmer and his own nether regions. Was he accusing the prime minister of having committed some offstage below-the-belt violence?
Badenoch asked if tax thresholds would remain frozen, breaking a promise Rachel Reeves made last year. Starmer ignored that, going for a scripted gag based on the opposition leader’s latest rebranding. “I think she now calls herself a Conservative realist,” he said. “I’m realistic about the Conservatives.”
On the Conservative benches, there was a loud “Oooh!”
His own side cheered his list of the horrors of the last government, but it didn’t last long. Colum Eastwood, an SDLP MP who sits with Labour, asked about the welfare changes announced on Tuesday. A disabled constituent was currently getting help. “Under the Prime Minister’s new proposed system, she will get zero, nothing!” He went on, explaining that he’d been glad to see the Conservatives out of office. “What was the point if Labour are going to do this?” On the Conservative benches, there was a loud “Oooh!” The question had been more wounding than anything they could offer.
Starmer did his best. “I do understand the human impact of this,” he said, reminding us that his mother and brother had both had disabilities.
The issue came up again, in a final question of the session from Diane Abbott. Welfare did need reform, she said, but he should stop describing the act in moral terms: “This is not about morality. This is about the Treasury’s wish to balance the country’s books on the back of the most vulnerable and poor people in this society.”
“This is where I disagree with her,” replied Starmer. A million young people weren’t in employment or education. “I think that’s a moral issue,” he finished. “I’m not going to turn away from that.”
Looking at the MPs listening to this, it suddenly became clear what Philp was trying to signal. He doesn’t have a health condition, he just thinks Starmer is talking balls. And some Labour MPs agree.
