ESTHER KRAKUE: Managed decline or major renewal? Either way, this is why I fear we’re running out of time to turn round the country before it’s too late
Will 2026 shake us out of our national lethargy… or doom us to future decline? (Image: Getty)
There is a growing sense that 2026 might be the year Britain finally locks in its managed decline. By April, Rachel Reeves’ tax rises will begin to take effect. And Labour’s inability – or, more accurately, its refusal – to shave even modest amounts off the growing welfare bill has given the professionally unemployed a fresh wind in their sails. Meanwhile, everyone else is asked to accept that there is simply no alternative. Public spending continues to rise while productivity stalls, and the growing gap between effort and reward makes hardworking people wonder why they even bother turning up to work.
Add to that an unsettled geopolitical backdrop and a lingering sense of economic inertia, and it is hard to find anyone approaching this new year with much confidence. No one is going into 2026 believing the country is in good shape. If anything, there’s reason to be more pessimistic than ever. Few people seriously expect Keir Starmer to be Prime Minister in a year’s time. His government has spent much of its first stretch oscillating between uncertainty and incompetence – somehow managing to look both risk-averse and woefully unprepared at the same time.
Without sounding too dramatic, this could be the year that makes or breaks the Britain we know; one of those years where things either start to improve, or quietly get worse, with very little resistance from anyone in charge.
The problem now is not just this government, but the wider lack of urgency across politics. Big majorities no longer lead to big decisions. Hard reforms are kicked into the long grass because they upset too many people. And we end up with MPs more interested in protecting their cushy £90,000-a-year jobs, and the perks that come with them, than taking on a welfare bill spiralling out of control.
That drift shows up beyond domestic politics as well. Foreign policy, said to be one of Starmer’s strengths, has offered little reassurance. Britain’s reliance on America has become increasingly obvious, whether via trade, defence or diplomacy, and while that may be unavoidable, it hardly gives the impression of a country confidently setting its own course.
Back home, the political picture only adds to the sense of stasis. On the right, the Conservatives and Reform are locked in a fight that seems more about point-scoring and positioning than rebuilding anything credible. And on the left, the Greens are picking up disaffected voters, particularly in low-turnout elections where enthusiasm matters more than policy detail. The net effect is a political system that feels loud and busy, but rarely seems to land anywhere meaningful. None of this is to say that Britain itself is finished. But it does help explain why a country with real advantages often feels as though it is going nowhere.
Britain is still one of the world’s largest economies and a global financial centre. Its universities, legal system and cultural influence remain genuinely significant. But everyday life often tells a different story. Public services feel stretched and hard to access. Infrastructure projects drag on for years. Big problems are endlessly discussed, consulted on, and then postponed. For most people, the sense is not of collapse, but of things getting less reliable and more frustrating.
I say this as someone who did not grow up here. Choosing Britain gives you a clearer sense of what still works, but also of what is taken for granted. The institutions hold. Elections still matter. The state still functions, even when badly run. But functioning is not the same as flourishing and resilience should not be mistaken for a plan.
Britain has been written off before, often loudly and with great certainty. After the loss of Empire, during the economic stagnation of the 1970s, and through periods of industrial and financial upheaval. Each time, it proved wrong – largely because the country and voters eventually accepted that things had to change.
What feels different now is how comfortable drift has become. Decline is talked about as though it is a certainty rather than something we tolerate. Caution is rewarded, while responsibility is quietly passed around until no one is accountable.
If 2026 is to matter, the question is not just whether Keir Starmer survives, or which party gains ground amid fragmentation. It is whether Britain still expects more of itself than cautious administration and managed decline. We can only hope it does.
