The long tradition of Tory radicalism

We have new problems, and we must have new ideas.

This piece was originally published for Con Home in early December. All articles published elsewhere are published free here; but for paywalled articles & postscripts, subscribe below.

After our recent leadership election, one question goes unanswered; how would a centrist have done?

For many, the question of what would have happened had James Cleverly made it to the final two will go as one of the great Tory what-ifs. As is so often the case with the mindless state of political commentary, this was based on vibes. Cleverly may have been less right-wing than either Kemi or Jenrick, but his position as ‘the centrist candidate’ owed more to comparison than credentials.

Many have argued that putting forward two right-wing candidates was a deeply unconservative thing to do. It is not just that they believe the next leader must operate from the ever-illusive ‘centre ground’, but that the shift to the right is too radical; it represents too strong and too quick a break with the past. Rejecting the status quo so radically seems more reactionary than conservative.

They are wrong. In view of the longue durée of the party, it is entirely – even remarkably – in keeping with the party’s history.

Through the long years, the Conservative Party’s success lies in its ability to move itself, not just to the intricate ballet of the interests of the electorate, but to the pressures and possibilities presented by events. The wonder of the party is not just that it has won so often and so regularly, but it is that it has survived at all when splits over the Corn Laws, tariff reform, and myriad other matters (many of which seem inconsequential with historical hindsight) would have finished off most parties.

The Conservative Party manages this delicate manoeuvre through a simple combination of two ideological strains. The first is solid, stolid, dependable, unexcitable, phlegmatic, and impassive conservativism. The owes as much to inertia as to ideology; it seeks to maintain the status quo by moderate compromises, carefully piloting the Ship of Thesus between the present and the future.

But the second is a strain of courageous, gritty, unshrinking, uncompromising, unyielding, and unblinking radicalism. By seeking new answers to new problems, it has regularly injected the party with a revitalising shot of intellectual purpose and political mission. Many of our greatest leaders come from this strain: Robet Peel, Benjamin Disraeli, and Margaret Thatcher.

Disraeli’s approach to radicalism was rooted in his vision of converting the working class to Conservatism. This goal extended beyond social improvements or reconciling labour relations; he aimed to inspire loyalty through appeals to patriotism and the grandeur of the nation’s imperial legacy. Early in his career, he recognized that the future of Toryism hinged on becoming a “popular Toryism”—a movement that would empower the people as “guardians and custodians of the ancient order.”

Peel’s Tamworth Manifesto marked a pivotal shift toward a reform-minded Conservatism, expressing support for the Reform Act and signaling a more enlightened stance. Addressing the divisive Corn Laws, which were of particular concern to the landed interests within his party, Peel introduced a bill that significantly lowered protective duties.

In the same year, he boldly reintroduced the income tax—first implemented during the Napoleonic Wars—stabilizing internal revenue and allowing for substantial reductions in duties on imported food and raw materials. The Bank Charter Act of 1844, which tied note issuance to gold reserves, laid the groundwork for the Victorian banking and currency system. These successful reforms inspired Peel to propose a second major free-trade budget in 1845, renewing the income tax and implementing even more extensive tariff cuts.

Thatcher decisively rejected ‘consensus’ politics and the middle-ground approach, instead advancing a radical agenda that aimed to dismantle many post-war policies. Traditional priorities, such as full employment and state-owned utilities were set aside in favour of a new ideological direction that broke with both left- and right-wing norms.

Thatcher’s reforms—including privatization, deregulation, reducing union influence, and scaling back the state’s role—established a new consensus that defined late 20th and early 21st-century politics. She envisioned a democracy of homeowners and shareholders, laying the foundation for the aspiration politics that remains influential in contemporary political discourse.

The whole history of the Tory party is long bouts of conservativism interrupted by short bursts of immense radicalism. These put us back on the intellectual front foot; we conserve the status quo until it no longer works, after which new radical politics seeks conservative answers to the problems that have overwhelmed the status quo. We adopt, adapt, and implement these solutions, thus creating a new status quo for future generations to conserve.

Now is the time for such radicalism. After 14 years in government, the state has grown ever bigger, ever more expensive, and ever more ungovernable, whilst growth has proved ever elusive. Our social contract is defunct.

We built our house upon the sands of the post-1997 Blairite settlement, and the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.

As Labour are so ably showing, that status quo can no longer be maintained. We have new problems, and we must have new ideas.

But it will take time for the party to adapt to this, and it will claim many early converts before the change is final; as Iain MacLeod once said, “the Conservative Party always in time forgives those who were wrong. Indeed often, in time, they forgive those who were right.”