In a raucous and revealing session of Prime Minister’s Questions (PMQs) on January 14, 2026, the House of Commons witnessed a political spectacle that underscored the shifting fortunes and mounting pressures within Britain’s corridors of power. Prime Minister Keir Starmer, once described as possessing an almost magical run of luck in opposition, found himself on the defensive as Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch seized the moment to spotlight a string of government U-turns, with digital ID policy at the center of the storm.
Starmer entered the chamber having just dropped contentious plans to require workers to hold digital IDs—a move that, while welcomed by some, quickly became ammunition for his opponents. Badenoch, never one to shy away from a fight, greeted the reversal with a trademark flourish. “Can I start by saying that I welcome the Prime Minister’s U-turn? I feel like I say that every week,” she quipped, according to BBC, before dismissing the abandoned policy as “rubbish.”
The Prime Minister attempted to steady the ship, insisting that his government remained “determined to make it harder for people to work illegally,” and promising, “there will be checks, they will be digital, and they will be mandatory.” Yet, as reported by BBC and The Spectator, Starmer’s assurances did little to quell the growing chorus of criticism. Badenoch, sensing weakness, broadened her attack, rattling off a list of recent government reversals—from watered-down inheritance tax changes on farmland to winter fuel payment tweaks and the scrapping of the two-child benefit cap. Each mention was punctuated by Conservative MPs chanting “U-turn!” in unison, their voices filling the chamber with a sense of coordinated derision.
Starmer, perhaps feeling the heat, reached for humor—an approach that, by many accounts, fell flat. He joked, “They had more positions in 14 years than the Karma Sutra. No wonder they’re knackered—and they left the country screwed.” The quip drew some laughter but failed to shift the mood. As The Spectator observed, the Prime Minister’s attempts at levity felt “decidedly un-Keir,” and did little to drown out the persistent mutterings from the backbenches.
Badenoch, meanwhile, pressed her advantage, highlighting what she framed as a pattern of indecision and drift. She invoked recent comments from Labour’s Wes Streeting, who had remarked that the government’s New Year’s resolution should be to “get it right first time.” When Starmer offered what she called a “digital ID fudge,” Badenoch shot back, “A lot of waffle, but it’s still a U-turn.” As The Times noted, her singular focus on government reversals brought clarity to her attacks and left Starmer with little room to maneuver.
The session also exposed growing unease within Labour’s own ranks. According to The Spectator and Financial Times, anonymous ministers have begun voicing doubts about Starmer’s leadership, with one reportedly saying, “what’s happening at the moment is extraordinarily bad,” and another suggesting, “it’s worth rolling the dice” on a new leader. Badenoch gleefully read these quotes aloud, underscoring the sense of internal disquiet. As she put it, “They follow his lead and he hangs them out to dry.”
Starmer’s response was to throw the accusation of disarray back at the Conservatives and the insurgent Reform party, but the tactic appeared to lack its usual sting. His prepared lines about the defection of former Conservative minister Nadhim Zahawi to Reform—describing the party as a “laundry service for disgraced Tory politicians”—landed with a thud, even when dressed up with a convoluted IKEA joke. The BBC noted that Starmer’s retorts failed to quiet the hubbub of backbench mutterings, a telling barometer of waning authority.
The opposition leader’s confidence contrasted sharply with Starmer’s defensive posture. At one point, Badenoch smirked, “I’m alright!”—a line that, six months ago, might have sounded desperate, but now rang with the assurance of a politician sensing momentum. The session, as The Spectator put it, felt less like the thunderous volleys of political battle and more like “the steady drip, drip, drip of Starmer’s capital draining away.”
Beyond the headline clashes, the session touched on a range of pressing issues. Labour MP Florence Eshalomi made waves with a pointed intervention on leaseholder reform, while questions about the impact of business rates revaluation remained largely unanswered by Starmer. The role of social media and technology in British society also came to the fore, with multiple MPs raising concerns about Elon Musk’s X platform (formerly Twitter). Starmer informed the House that X was now complying with UK law regarding the Grok AI bot, which had been implicated in creating sexualized images of women and children—a development he called a “relief” for a government caught between international diplomatic pressures and domestic moral outrage.
In a particularly charged moment, Plaid Cymru’s Llinos Medi, speaking from personal experience, accused Reform’s Nigel Farage of defending Musk and platforms linked to child sexual exploitation. “Anyone who defends platforms linked to the sexual exploitation of children forfeits any right to give lectures about protecting women and girls,” she said, as reported by The Times. Starmer seized on the opportunity, branding Reform’s stance on Grok “disgusting” and their calls to scrap the Online Safety Act “a disgrace.”
Law and order also featured prominently. Conservative MP Nick Timothy raised the issue of West Midlands Police having misled MPs about banning Maccabi Tel Aviv fans from an Aston Villa match. Timothy called for a review of “the corruption of our criminal justice system by Islamists,” referencing revelations that an AI-generated hallucination of a football match had made its way into a security report. Starmer sidestepped the question, instead referencing Timothy’s own history with police reform, while Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood was set to update MPs on her confidence in West Midlands Police chief Craig Guildford later in the day.
Elsewhere, Starmer was pressed by Labour’s Anneliese Midgley on the so-called Hillsborough Law, which campaigners fear may be watered down. Starmer insisted, “we’ve got that balance right” between transparency and national security, though it was clear that some MPs remained unsatisfied with his answer.
As the dust settled, commentators agreed that the day’s exchanges had exposed the government’s vulnerability to charges of inconsistency and indecision. With around 13 major policy U-turns—by some counts—since taking office, the Prime Minister’s authority appeared increasingly fragile. The spectacle of MPs chanting “U-turn!” after each reversal and the growing rumblings from within Labour’s own ranks added to the sense that Starmer’s political capital is ebbing away.
For all the drama, the session served as a stark reminder of the challenges facing Britain’s leadership: balancing policy pragmatism with political conviction, navigating internal dissent, and confronting a resurgent opposition eager to exploit every misstep. The coming weeks are sure to test whether Starmer can regain his footing—or if the steady drip of reversals will become a flood.
