Disappearing messages

When I started this blog, I told myself that I would not write about politics or anything that could be construed as partisan.

This is only my fourth post, and I hereby concede defeat, thanks to Kier Starmer.

As the Mandelson saga drags on, it turns out that the former Director of Public Prosecutions, a man well-schooled in the importance of evidence, uses disappearing messages. This meant the latest batch of Mandelson-related communications between senior members of government is bereft of contemporaneous records from the PM.

Starmer said, “All the messages I hold have been passed over … many people, not just in politics, use disappearing messages.”

Yes, but not many people are prime ministers who previously worked as barristers and DPPs.

Maybe things are different at the bar and Ministry of Justice, but as a solicitor, few things are more ingrained into my psyche than the need to (a) keep written records of everything, including filing emails and all other forms of communication securely, and (b) write messages on the basis that everything is potentially disclosable.

What Starmer has not explained is why he feels it necessary to use disappearing messages. All he had to do was not write anything that would cause him future embarrassment. He does not have to permanently erase his messages. Unless, of course, he is actively trying to hide something.

I am not suggesting a cover-up. I think that the reason for Mandelson’s appointment is likely the most obvious and therefore boring one: Starmer didn’t know how to deal with Trump, so went for what he thought was the safest approach by putting The Prince of Darkness in the post, an ill-fated decision that could not have more spectacularly backfired.

Starmer’s reputation has largely rested on the idea that he is as straight as a die and as honest as they come, given his former role as DPP. This latest revelation does not exactly strengthen his position.