If Carlsburg made Prime Ministers….

Sadly, they don't and so we didn’t get one brewed in Fredericia.

We got Sir Keir Starmer.

You can do the research on his standing yourself – but for now Let’s apply a CAMRA audit to his record:

• Promises in the Labour prospectus? Abandoned quicker than a lukewarm IPA.

• Economic growth? Flat as pint of cask left in the sun for a day. Productivity? Stagnant. Business confidence? Thinner than the foam on a cheap lager.

• Freedom to choose private education? Under threat—unless you’re part of the political class who’ll only pull up the ladder your children can climb after they  exempt their own offspring.

• Farming and fishing communities? Ignored, unless a photo op with a turnip, fish  or lobster is required.

• ·Core national interests—immigration, defence, commerce? Shrugged off in favour of metropolitan talking points and poorly brewed international law

Yet with these points made what is perhaps most unsettling of all is not the specific policy failures, but the sheer mendacity of the delivery which is absence of any discernible guiding principles. Starmerism—if such a thing exists—is less ideology and more improvisation.

Groucho Marx perhaps summed up the Starmer approach in his off quoted satirical pronouncement “Those are my principles, and if you don’t like them… well, I have others.”

Who’s helping him steer a course though this ever changing collection of principals? A retinue of aides and ministers who, with rare exceptions, are straight from the factory and have never held a job outside the public sector. Their idea of “industry” is displayed for all to see and judge in their 500 second political interviews and appearances on a political panel hosted on a media channel they deem suitable and preferably “safe”. Their view of “rural England” is what they glimpse from the train as they rush through it. Their pensions are index-linked, their salaries tax-funded, and their policy agenda is shaped not by economic realism but by the chatter of leafy North London & University City salons.

Meanwhile, the working people of England’s forgotten counties—alongside those of Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland—continue to carry the burden. Taxed to the hilt, regulated beyond reason, and sermonised by a class insulated from the consequences of their own ideology.

For this population—the beating heart of the United Kingdom—mass immigration is not a staffing solution. Net Zero isn’t a noble crusade to save the planet, it’s a looming economic peril. And collapse of public services isn’t a think tank talking point—it’s their lived reality.

So, to the question; would Carlsberg have made a better Prime Minister?

Well, with its brand on the line, they couldn’t afford a Bud Light moment. The offering would have to be consistent, popular—and crucially—refreshing. A Prime Minister brewed and bottled by Carlsberg might not be a panacea, but at least it would come with a clear label, long shelf life, and the occasional moment of happiness.

Bottom line? We’ll never know.

But while we wait, we can elect to enjoy possibly the best beer in the world —and imagine, through the haze of a well-earned pint, or two, or three, or … , what could be if they did …..