Why is Angela Rayner abolishing ‘first past the post' for mayoral elections?
Angela Rayner, who is responsible for local government as part of her sprawling deputy-prime-ministerial empire, is reversing the change brought in three years ago by Priti Patel, who as home secretary in the Conservative government was in charge of democracy and the constitution.
Directly elected mayors were brought in by Tony Blair's government, starting with London, because it had no city-wide government after Margaret Thatcher abolished the Greater London Council. Labour chose the supplementary vote system for the election of the London mayor, and the same system was adopted for the other elected mayors that followed.
What is the supplementary vote?
It is a bit like the alternative vote, the system that was rejected for elections to the House of Commons in the referendum that took place under the coalition government in 2011, except that electors have only a first-preference and a second-preference vote.
Under the alternative vote, electors can number all the candidates on the ballot paper in order of preference. The supplementary vote uses a ballot paper with two columns, and the voter uses a cross to mark their first preference in the first column, and another cross to mark their second preference in the second column.
Why did the Conservatives change it?
The Conservatives have long had a sentimental attachment to the traditional 'first past the post' system, by which electors mark ballot papers with a single cross, and the candidate with the most votes wins. It is one of the few subjects on which the party is genuinely conservative.
However, the supplementary vote did also appear to disadvantage the Tories (slightly). Research by David Cowling, formerly of the BBC, found that in 17 out of 218 mayoral or police and crime commissioner (PCC) elections, the candidate who came first on first-preference votes was defeated when the second preferences of losing candidates were reallocated. The net effect was that the Tories lost six contests that they would have won under first past the post; Labour lost four; independents gained eight; and Plaid Cymru and the English Democrats (Doncaster, 2009) gained one each.
Why is Labour changing it back?
For both partisan and public-spirited reasons. The main reason is probably that the Conservatives changed it, so Labour wants to do the opposite, a bit like the way that the steel industry was nationalised, denationalised and nationalised again in the 1940s, 50s and 60s.
Labour might also think it will gain a party advantage, although the figures quoted above suggest that would be minimal against the Tories. The party is more guilty of changing the rules to suit itself by its plan to cut the voting age to 16, although there is no timetable for this.
In both cases, the plan might backfire. The supplementary vote for mayoral elections might allow the split on the right to heal itself, if the supporters of Reform and Tory candidates give their second preferences to each other. Votes for 16- and 17-year-olds could also fail to deliver a Labour advantage if Reform ends up being as popular with teenagers as some surveys suggest.
Electoral reformers are delighted with the change back, and many Labour supporters want it for the principled reason that they think preferential voting is more democratic. Passionate supporters of proportional representation tend to be a bit snooty about it, but they dislike first past the post so intensely that they see any other system as an improvement.
The supplementary vote is not a proportional system – in the cases of mayors and PCCs it cannot be, as they are elected as individuals. But proportional systems often include preferential voting, and the Electoral Reform Society, for example, is delighted by Rayner's policy – because anything that takes away from the system that gave us a Labour government winning two-thirds of the seats on one-third of the votes is a good thing, in its view.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


The Independent
35 minutes ago
- The Independent
Chelsea players react to Donald Trump's bizarre involvement in Club World Cup trophy ceremony
Chelsea 's players have given an insight on what was said when Donald Trump crashed their Club World Cup trophy ceremony. The US president joined Fifa chief Gianni Infantino on the pitch after full-time to present Chelsea with the trophy, after the Blues shocked European champions PSG to win 3-0 in the final. But bizarrely, Trump opted not to follow Infantino out of shot once handing captain Reece James the trophy, instead lingering as Chelsea's stars were forced to celebrate around him. When asked what was said to the leader of the free world, James said: 'To be honest it was quite loud. I couldn't hear too much. He just congratulated me and the team for lifting the trophy and told us to enjoy the moment.' Cole Palmer, who was involved in all three goals and bagged a stunning brace to propel his side to glory, was seen visibly confused by Trump's prolonged presence. "I knew he was going to be here but I didn't know he was going to be on the stand when we lifted the trophy,' he admitted. I was a bit confused, yeah." Trump was roundly booed on American soil as he made his way out for the ceremony, with many of those in attendance likely hailing from England or France. He was attending the game on the anniversary of his attempted assassination, which saw him narrowly escape death in Butler, Pennsylvania, while campaigning in the 2024 election. He watched Chelsea dispatch a PSG side who had previously looked unbeatable, with Enzo Maresca 's side writing themselves in history as the first team to win the revamped Club World Cup.


Daily Mail
41 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
SAS veteran disgusted at Labour's betrayal of his comrades breaks 44-year silence to reveal his regiment saved the life of Irish Republican Bernadette Devlin following a horrific murder attempt
He saw a lot of grim scenes in 20 years of active service all over the world, yet this one remains stuck in his mind more than 40 years later. 'It was a nightmare inside there,' recalls a soldier whom we will call Andrew. 'There was the husband on the kitchen floor with blood spurting out of an arterial wound. The children were screaming and their mother was in the bedroom with at least six bullets in her.' Fortunately, she was still alive – just. It was January 1981 on a snowy Northern Irish dawn at the bottom of a dead-end track in rural County Tyrone. Andrew was in charge of a three-man military observation team who had only just disarmed the gunmen responsible for this carnage. It was now very clearly a life-or-death situation. Andrew had to summon immediate medical aid, without which the parents of those screaming children would soon be dead. He also needed military back-up as soon as possible, in case the terrorists received reinforcements or twigged that they actually outnumbered their captors. The gunmen had severed the telephone line to this remote bungalow and the soldiers' radio wasn't working. Having despatched one of his men to run in search of the nearest house to ring for help, he was left with one other soldier to manage three angry terrorists, three hysterical children and two critically wounded civilians. Thanks to Andrew, however, those children would not become orphans that day. His swift actions also averted major civil unrest. For that young mother was Bernadette McAliskey, one of the most high-profile Republican sympathisers in Northern Ireland. Up until now, even she has not heard the full story – revealed today by the Mail. A few years earlier as Bernadette Devlin, she had been the youngest MP in the House of Commons. There, she went down in history for crossing the floor of the House to hit the Home Secretary in the face after stating that the Parachute Regiment had acted in self-defence when they killed 13 civilians on 'Bloody Sunday' in 1972. She had since married teacher Michael McAliskey and the couple had three children aged nine, five and two. Her would-be killers were a hit squad from the outlawed loyalist Protestant paramilitary, the Ulster Defence Association. As it was, the attack prompted vicious reprisals from the Catholic Irish Republican Army. Had she died, however, there would have been sectarian mayhem. This was the height of 'the Troubles' and inter-community tensions were already at boiling point. There have been numerous conspiracy theories ever since, including a popular nationalist narrative that Bernadette was under observation from a unit of the hated Parachute Regiment who made no effort to save her from a loyalist death squad. Years later, in a 2002 interview with the Mail's Geoffrey Levy, she attributed the couple's survival to a passing patrol of the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders. Today, however, the Mail can reveal what really happened that horrific morning. For the men who saved Bernadette and her husband that day were from the one Army unit which Irish republicans hated even more than the Paras. They were from the Special Air Service. And now the man in charge of that operation – 'Andrew' – has decided to speak out. He has done so with heavy heart as he has spent more than 40 years keeping his memories to himself, according to the regimental code of honour. But the current Left-wing rewriting of the history of the 'Troubles' in Northern Ireland, repainting the Special Forces as villains and besmirching the reputation of 'the Regiment', has goaded this taciturn 70-year-old soldier beyond endurance. He is appalled by the prospect of publicly funded human rights lawyers dragging Army veterans into the dock in pursuit of compensation for convicted terrorists and their families. He is furious that Sir Keir Starmer claims the current British law designed to protect veterans is 'unlawful' – as he did again last week – because it clashes with a European one. Emboldened by the Daily Mail's 'Stop The SAS Betrayal' campaign, he wants to show that, far from being some sort of rogue unit, the SAS were there to save lives – even those of the people who loathed them. Andrew was a 26-year-old corporal with six years in the SAS behind him when the call came through in January 1981 to mount an observation operation on the McAliskey home – overnight. 'We were very busy in those days. This was what we called a 'fast ball' operation,' he says. 'I had spent the day protecting a Belfast councillor during his constituency surgery. Then this job came in for that night. There was information of a threat to a celebrity politician. I learned afterwards that she knew she was on a hit list. 'There wasn't time to do a background study on the situation. We were just dropped off in the early hours of the morning and left to make an approach march to a grid reference where this bungalow was situated.' There was no question of walking up the lane. The three soldiers had to make their way in the dark for miles through driving snow around a peat bog. Their orders were to establish an observation position as close to the bungalow as possible, staying out in the open, regardless of the weather, for up to a week (a standard operational procedure known as 'hard routine'). Each man was armed with an Armalite M16 rifle and a Browning 9mm semi-automatic handgun. The plan was to keep watch round the clock, taking turns to sleep. They had only just arrived at first light and were still doing their initial circuit of the property, known as a '360'. This had just become more problematic following the discovery that the couple were breeding greyhounds in an outbuilding and the dogs had started barking, at which point the three soldiers could see a Hillman Avenger driving up the lane towards the house. The car was carrying three members of the UDA, Andrew Watson, Thomas Graham and Robert Smallwood, armed with a Smith & Wesson revolver and two 9mm Brownings. Leaving the engine running, they had jumped out. Two were smashing in the door to the bungalow with sledge hammers while a third set about tearing down the telephone line. Inside, Michael McAliskey had already seen a man in a balaclava through a window and yelled at his wife to hide under the bed. He rushed to the door and was trying to hold it back but the gunmen prised it open. A pistol was thrust through the gap and bullets started flying. He was hit in the arm and the gang pushed on into the house, one shooting at Michael – now on the floor bleeding and pretending to be dead. Another man went in search of Bernadette and found her in the bedroom. He fired at least six shots into her back, chest, legs and arms (some reports say as many as nine), leaving her for dead wedged in the gap between the bed and the wall where she had tried to hide. The children, unharmed, were in deep two gunmen ran for the car, just as the driver had managed to pull down the telephone cable with a rope. They were suddenly face to face with Andrew and his two colleagues, their M16s raised and ready to fire. 'We were seven or eight metres away and it was face on face like two charging bulls. We had every right to drop all three of them,' says Andrew. 'But we had shock on our side and we were more assertive. We were all in Army camouflage shouting, 'Security forces. Put down your weapons'. They could see it was a case of comply or die – so they complied.' Andrew ran inside, saw Michael on the floor and three children 'running around, hysterical' before finding Bernadette. Despite suffering multiple bullet wounds and now being confronted (while naked) by a second armed stranger in the space of a minute, the famously forthright political campaigner was still defiant. 'I suppose you bastards are coming in to finish me off,' she groaned. 'I didn't say who we were. I couldn't help her with this great hole in her chest. I just told her help was on its way,' Andrew recalls. Then he turned his attention back to Michael. 'We didn't have any drips or tourniquets. I just told him to keep the pressure on his arm to stem the bleeding.' The immediate problem was communications. As they were running towards the house, Andrew had issued the signal: 'Contact! Wait out!' This was the all-important alert telling HQ that his unit was going into action, to clear the airwaves, to await his next update and to have reinforcements despatched immediately. 'But communications just ended with my transmission. I never got the confirmation back that they had heard us.' Did anyone even know they were there? With no phone and no radio (standard-issue Army transmitters were notoriously unreliable in freezing weather), there had been no option but to send one of his two men to run off in search of a telephone. 'Luckily, as it turned out, the unit had heard my 'Contact! Wait out!' and had already deployed a quick-reaction force from the resident unit in Dungannon,' says Andrew. A company from the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders were on the ground inside 15 minutes, followed swiftly by a helicopter to take the McAliskeys to hospital. 'Then we handed over the scene,' says Andrew, 'and extracted ourselves.' Having had no sleep for more than 24 hours, he returned to barracks for a shower and the mandatory debrief with the police and the military legal team. Then it was on to the next task. A year later, Andrew would be in the thick of the action in the Falklands War, shortly after the terrorists had received sentences (life for ringleader Watson, 20 years for Graham and 15 years for Smallwood, who was later murdered by the IRA). Andrew never heard from Bernadette, who would always maintain that he and his men were from the hated Paras, had no interest in saving her and had made no effort. 'Had it been left to the Paras, I would be dead,' she told the Mail in 2002, claiming that it was the Argylls who saved the day. 'Rob the medic saved our lives. He called a military helicopter and got the Paras to hand over their medical packs to stem our wounds. 'The Paras were confused and paralysed. It was the Argylls who took control and we did not die.' She also gave a crystal decanter to the military surgeon whose brilliant handiwork in hospital had saved both her and her husband (even though the doctor was a Para). One can but wonder what Bernadette would say if she knew what really happened that day. The Mail has approached her for comment. In such horrific circumstances, she can be forgiven for not knowing who was who. She showed commendable fortitude that day simply by keeping herself alive – and even cracking a joke. Having become disillusioned with politics and politicians, she would go on to devote her life to social projects in South Tyrone, as she still does. Despite her lifelong condemnation of the British state, this tenacious activist would never hesitate to attack Sinn Fein, the IRA and the Irish government, too, for letting down their own people. The horrors of that day left their mark on all the family, including Bernadette's daughter, Roisin, who later spent some time in jail, while pregnant, fighting extradition to Germany following a 1996 IRA mortar attack on a British Army base (repeated extradition attempts by the Germans were ultimately denied by a British judge). The attack on the McAliskeys also led to savage reprisals by the IRA. Days later, an eight-man unit murdered 86-year-old First World War hero and retired politician Sir Norman Stronge, 86, along with his only son, James, in the family home, Tynan Abbey. The murderers then torched the place to the ground. But the aftermath could have been far worse had Andrew and his team not done what they did that January day in County Tyrone. While he is fiercely proud of the SAS, he plays down his own role. 'We just did our best in the circumstances. And it didn't matter which side the attackers were on. They were just terrorists as far as I was concerned. 'We had every justification to shoot them but we showed restraint. If our actions had been different, then I might now find myself in the dock. But I've not said anything since.' So why talk now? 'Because now is the time to talk.'


Times
44 minutes ago
- Times
Kemi Badenoch is right that the welfare system is a fiscal disaster
The leader of the opposition alerted the nation to an alarming statistic last week: 28 million people are working hard and paying taxes to support the livelihoods of another 28 million. Kemi Badenoch argued that Britain is becoming 'a welfare state with an economy attached', such is the vastness of uncontrolled spending on benefits. That might sound like hyperbole, but she has identified one of the most serious issues stifling growth and the country's prospects. Ms Badenoch's speech was her first notable economic intervention since she became the Conservative party leader last year, and one that was overdue. While few can question her success in campaigning for a national grooming gangs inquiry, or fighting for women's rights, she has had less success in articulating an alternative economic vision to that of the Starmer government or Nigel Farage's Reform UK. Her call for a return to a 'Protestant work ethic' articulated an important theme: the need for economic opportunity. Although the Tories bear some responsibility for the millions of Britons who are economically inactive, particularly in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic, the party is the only one willing to state hard truths about the mess of the UK's labour market. Ms Badenoch argued that the word 'disabled' has lost its meaning, with one in four working-age people now classified under the term. With the health and disability benefits bill set to rocket to £100 billion by the end of the decade, she is right that the current situation cannot go on. • Give struggling 16-year-olds state-paid jobs, says key adviser The accusation that the welfare system makes it too easy for people to claim benefits is hard to dispute. So too is the danger that welfare is becoming a lifestyle choice. It is clear that radical reform, not mere tinkering, is required. According to the Centre for Social Justice think tank, a recipient of the highest level of sickness benefits earns £2,500 a year more than someone on the national living wage. It is unsurprising that some will therefore opt for this over a life of work. Ms Badenoch invoked the legacy of Lord Tebbit, the Thatcher-era minister who died last week, to argue that the Tories must remain the party of work. Acknowledging mistakes of the past, she said, 'people should do all that they can to be in work, that is the ethics that I want to be very clear about now'. The Tories are right to grasp this difficult issue, as their political rivals appear unwilling to. Ms Badenoch dismissed Mr Farage as an 'unserious' figure: 'Jeremy Corbyn with a pint and cigarette'. She would be wise not to underestimate his everyman appeal, something that does not come as naturally to her. Yet she is right that Reform is increasingly and unwisely tilting leftwards when it comes to public spending in its desire to appeal to disenchanted Labour supporters. After the debacle on the cuts to disability benefits, it is unlikely that the Starmer government will act decisively, or at all, when it comes to welfare reform. Despite the drumbeat from Labour MPs calling on the government to scrap the two-child benefit cap, this is precisely the opposite of what the prime minister should be considering. Instead he should heed the advice of Alan Milburn, former Labour health secretary, who cautioned against any effort to 'run away' from reform. He is right that the costs of sickness benefits are unsustainable, both for the economy and the state of society. There is an obvious gap in the political market that Ms Badenoch can fill: the cause of fiscal restraint. The Tories should never have given up their belief in a smaller state, but it is welcome to see them return to it. It is ever more likely that the UK is heading for a financial crunch this autumn, as Rachel Reeves's mishandling of the economy risks creating a vast fiscal black hole. The unsustainable welfare bill is at the heart of the problem and voters now appreciate that it must be tackled. The time for hard truths is fast approaching.