Robert Jenrick (15:30)
Yes and no. I mean I think the, my, the roots go back deeper than that actually. In, in most of the government departments that I served in, I ultimately came to the conclusion that the state was failing and one experience compounded the other. So when I was Housing Secretary I went in and wanted to build more homes, wanted to get the country building again generally. Because it's not just homes, is it? It's roads, railways, it's data centers, factories, you name it. And found that almost nothing can get built in this country. We're letting down generation after generation of young people because they can't get on the housing ladder. There were campaign groups that were making it almost impossible to achieve our objectives, often using, you know, spurious regulations like neutrality to prevent 100,000 homes being built and members of Parliament putting small minorities above the obvious long term interest of their constituents, let alone the national interest. And ultimately a Prime Minister in a government that was not willing to do what was necessary. So they frustrated the Ambition to build more homes, to radically improve the planning system. Then, during COVID I saw the state kind of in all its pomp, trying to be as overbearing as possible, yet very powerless. You know, with one or two exceptions, you know, the vaccine program or whatever people reach to. By and large, most of the things it tried to do were failures. You know, whole government departments were on the verge of collapse. Programs were failing, billions of pounds was being wasted. The state was unable to respond to a moment of national crisis. But you are right to say the Home Office was the most stark and impactful of all of those experiences. Because I walked into a department which I didn't have experience of previously, I'd never been there, and I hadn't probably thought as deeply as some people had about immigration. And it was a complete bin fire. You know, the department by which I really mean the state was unable to do the most basic functions you'd expect. Keeping the public safe, securing our borders. You had thousands of people coming across on small boats, billions of pounds being wasted, hotels being booked left, right and center in towns and cities across the country. You had no data or understanding really, of what was happening. Every day some new crisis would happen that, you know, there'd be an outbreak of infectious diseases at Manston Camp, where people were being brought immediately upon arrival. You'd have appalling crimes occurring. I remember the day when I discovered that a veteran in Bournemouth had been murdered by an illegal migrant who'd come into the country posing as a child, been given into the care of foster parents and then in a school, and then had gone on to kill someone. And I did what I don't think my predecessors did do, or not so much, which was actually to go and meet the people who were the victims who were on the front line. So I went to the council estate on the top of the cliffs in Dover, where the residents had. When the boats were in those days, still arriving on the beaches, rather than the appalling taxi service that we've created now, illegal migrants were getting out of the boats, clambering up, and were often being found in the gardens or even, you know, in the homes of people because they were looking for food or drink or money or whatever and listened to their experiences or actually went to the hotels to see what it was like for the people living in Stoke or Peterborough next to the hotels, whose lives were being turned upside down. And it was easy for the Home Office to say, well, it's some, you know, rundown Victorian station hotel that no one cares About. Well, actually, it's opposite the station by the statue of Josiah Wedgwood. It's the pride of place in Stoke on Trent and it's a total disgrace now that it's full of illegal migrants. And those experiences were very formative to me. It left me feeling, firstly, that the state, which is unable to perform its most basic functions, secondly, that we, as a kind of political class, were unable massively letting down the public. And so many people were indifferent to that because their own lives were insulated from those experiences. It wasn't them living next to these hotels, it wasn't their kids who couldn't get on the social housing waiting list. They were a world away from the experience of the people on that estate in Dover. And then probably the worst thing that radicalized me the most was the sense that the responses to this were all a sham. The intelligent people knew that these things were not going to work and yet they still put their names to it. You know, you'd have stop the boats, Smash the gangs. There would be slogans which were parroted out by people who were not fools. You know, these were smart people who understood what was happening and yet in their hearts, they knew this was not going to work. But they either didn't care enough or showed such kind of disregard for public opinion that they were willing to go along with it and pretend that something was going to happen when it really wasn't. The experience I remember the most searing one of all was a couple of days before I resigned from the Cabinet over the Rwanda posse, which was basically a sham and it wasn't going to work. It wasn't strong enough. Not the idea itself was wrong, but it was so weak, the version of it, because it didn't exclude the ECHR and the merry go round of human rights appeals. That would have happened, as evidenced by ultimately, what did happen in that. After the general election, Yvette Cooper walks into the Home Office and of all the people who'd been rounded up to go on those flights, only two people were still in custody. Everyone else had had to be released. Ultimately, that's one of the reasons why Rishi Sunak called the early general election. Cause he knew the policy was going to fail. But we had a Cabinet Committee meeting in Downing street in the Cabinet Room, to sign off on the bill that was supposed to go through Parliament, that became the Rwanda Bill. And everyone there knew it wasn't going to work. It was obvious. It was just. In fact, people joked about it round the table. They laughed. Why do we stick this Turn of phrase into because that kind of was gonna fool people. And of all that group of people, I was the only person who's willing to say, I just do not believe this is going to work. And no one really disagreed with me, but they just were not prepared to do what was necessary and so went along with it and were willing to look the British public in the eye. And I remember walking out of Downing street, it was a cold November evening, and thinking, what would my constituents think if they had been sat around that table looking, listening to that conversation? They would have been disgusted and appalled by it. And that was just emblematic of what was happening in government. Bad decisions, a sham really, where people were lying to the public and not prepared to do what was necessary to fix the big problems facing the country. And I suppose from that point onwards, I have tried to tell the truth, to be willing to be honest about the problems that are facing the country. And above all, not to defend the indefensible. Which is one of the things I said last week when I left the Conservative Party. I'm not going to do that ever again. And if I can play a role in politics, it will be by saying very clearly, what are the problems facing this country? How do we fix them? And try to push the establishment, the government of the day, to actually do it for once and do what my constituents in New York deserve to see happen.