Could the Tories really end up being the third-largest party in the Commons?

As prominent Tories admit they are facing a heavy defeat, Sean O’Grady looks at the history of the ‘supermajority’ –and the chances that the Conservatives, far from remaining the ruling party, will concede even the role of official opposition

Work and pensions secretary Mel Stride has said Labour is likely to win ‘the largest majority any party has ever achieved’ (PA)

Even when the situation is hopeless, the leaders of a doomed party in a general election usually try to show a brave face. They have set phrases to rely on in such difficult circumstances. “The only poll that matters is the one on polling day.” “All to play for.” “Lots of undecideds out there.” “That’s not what we’re hearing.” “It’s too early to say, let’s see what the results are.”

Indeed, that has been the pattern this year, too – until now. In effect conceding defeat, and a heavy one at that, top Tories are now asking voters to back them to provide a strong opposition to the expected Labour landslide, or “supermajority”, as they’re calling it. That, translated, means don’t vote for Reform UK or the Liberal Democrats, as well as not voting for Labour. It is a transparent effort to rally the wavering Tories, and/or a hint that Labour voters needn’t turn out.

Grant Shapps was the first to get this chatter going about a week ago, and now Mel Stride, a close ally of Rishi Sunak, is claiming that the scale of the Labour majority in the Commons will exceed that of New Labour in 1997, or the National Government in 1931. Everyone agrees that this election will be “historic” – but how “historic” and record-breaking it will be remains to be seen.

As always with Britain’s idiosyncratic voting system, it’s (almost) a matter of how well the parties are doing not in absolute terms, but in relation to their rivals. “Lead” is the thing, and everything is relative, as Einstein never quite said...

Will Labour’s majority be the largest in history?

Probably not – but near enough. Stride cited the unique example of 1931 – held in the middle of a financial crisis, when a new, cross-party National Government was asking for a “doctor’s mandate” to deal with it. The majority for all the groups supporting the government then was 493, after they won a massive 554 seats out of 615 in the Commons. That’s rather more than even the best recent poll showing for Labour.

That said, Keir Starmer does have a good chance of beating the majorities of Tony Blair in 1997 (179), Margaret Thatcher in 1983 (144), Clement Attlee in 1945 (146), and Henry Campbell-Bannerman in 1906 (140). So, most likely, it will be the second largest ever, and the largest ever for Labour.

What will Labour’s popular mandate look like?

Surprisingly weak. If, say, Starmer wins 39 per cent of the vote, that will be less than Blair won in 1997 and 2001, less than Wilson in 1964, Attlee in 1945, or even what Jeremy Corbyn achieved when he lost in 2017. On a turnout of, say, 65 per cent, that will translate into just 25 per cent of the total electorate. That’s actually a little worse than, say, David Cameron in 2015, Theresa May’s minority administration in 2017, or either of Wilson’s narrow wins in 1974; but better, on this metric, than Blair in 2001 or 2005.

Why does such a routine vote for Labour translate into such a dominant position in the House of Commons?

Britain doesn’t have a system of proportional representation, and the combination of first-past-the-post and territorial constituencies tends to exaggerate swings in opinion, rewarding parties with “efficient” vote distribution. Thus Reform, with about 10 to 20 per cent of the vote almost everywhere but very few places where they will get more than that, will end up with only a few MPs. The Lib Dems, on far fewer votes, are more targeted, and will get 50 plus.

The British system also starts to go haywire when the traditional two-party set-up breaks down – and arguably, Britain now has a five-party set-up, not including the nationalists in Scotland and Wales. Then things get very disproportionate or “unfair”.

We had similarly bizarre situations in the 1980s, when the SDP-Liberal Alliance split the centre/left vote and rewarded Thatcher’s Tories with huge majorities on a fairly mediocre vote. Similarly random outcomes arose in the 1920s, when Labour began to eclipse the Liberals.

Because of a strong showing for the Greens, Reform UK, and, to a lesser degree, the Liberal Democrats, the 2024 election will probably see the lowest combined vote for the two main parties ever (say 60 to 65 per cent vs 75.7 per cent in 2019 and 82.4 per cent in 2017).

It’s the gap between the two major parties that matters. With a Labour lead of around 20 percentage points (roughly a 2:1 ratio), no winning party has had such an advantage, with the single exception of the National Government in 1931. The same goes for the swing from 2019 – which is likely to be the biggest ever, with a concomitant collapse in the Tory vote and the scale of tactical voting.

What about the Tories?

They are quite possibly looking at their worst result ever in a general election, or leastways since the passage of the Great Reform Act of 1832. The Commons benchmarks are the 165 MPs (out of 659) elected in 1997, and the 157 (out of 670) secured by AJ Balfour in 1906. In terms of share of the vote, the 19 to 23 per cent that most polls point to is easily their worst ever. The previous nadir was 31.5 per cent in 1997.

In terms of any principal opposition party’s strength, there’s a strong chance that Sunak will still manage to exceed Labour’s pitiful 52 members elected in 1931; if the Conservatives are in that sort of territory, then they’ll probably be coming third and ceding the title of “official opposition” to the Liberal Democrats. In that case, Ed Davey will find himself the first Liberal leader of the opposition since 1906.