In defence of Dom

Even the devil needs an attorney. Forget the torrent of leaks for a minute, the farce of Barnard Castle and the potentially irritating irreverence he shows towards self-important MPs. Dominic Cummings is the most prominent backroom figure in recent British political history and, love him or loathe him, he’s left an indelible mark on our democracy. There are lots of valid criticisms that reasonable people can rightly latch onto with regards to Cummings’s behaviour and demeanour, but his incredible influence and extraordinary zeal warrants a fair review. Predictably, at present, few have been prepared to provide it. He’s unpopular with the public and is painted as a pantomime villain.

The recent war of words between the Prime Minister and his former aide adds an extra chapter to a political saga that has captivated commentators since Cummings’s appointment to Number 10 in 2019. On the day Boris Johnson crossed the prime ministerial threshold, Cummings, wearing a baggy t-shirt, was waiting inside to greet him.

Given Cummings’s record of departing roles prematurely, the media inevitably began to speculate when and how the mastermind of the Vote Leave campaign would exit the building. I don’t think many can claim that they foresaw the extent of the hysterics of the last few months. Even so, what is happening now, in terms of public attacks on his ex-employer, can be summed up by the now common phrase – “Classic Dom”.

He has form in trashing a leader he worked for. In 2002, when Iain Duncan Smith led a beleaguered Conservative party at the height of Blair’s popularity, Cummings worked for him as Director of Strategy. Exasperated by the glacial pace of reform in Conservative Central Office, Cummings began to criticise his boss more and more publicly before leaving his job after only eight months. Like today, he called into question the competency of his former patron.

Each time Cummings has left the stage, observers have agreed that a return would be nigh impossible, yet every time he does fall off the verge, he remerges in a newly empowered role. Like Michael Corleone’s famous lament in the third Godfather, “just when I get out, they pull me back in”, Cummings appears disgusted by the conduct of fellow political operators, yet evidently, he is compelled to play the game he hates with an aim to changing its rules forever. As a result, the man who uses most of his public statements to decry the standards of politics, can’t help but get involved at the first possible opportunity. It is one of the core paradoxes of Cummings’s now notorious persona.  

But consider a few of the great disruptor’s career accomplishments. Films, books, documentaries and diatribes have been churned out to explain Cummings’s oversight of the successful Vote Leave campaign. The hagiographies and cautionary tales have all been written and distributed. Suffice it to say, that he unexpectedly won a historic victory using unorthodox tactics. The consequences of his unconventional campaigning calculations have axiomatically determined the course of this country since 23 June, 2016.

Another major milestone of his meandering professional life is the general election of 2019. What is surprising is that people who are geared up to jibe Cummings and to clip the wings of his soaring reputation never argue that he had very little to do with the 2019 general election. Most Tory insiders would ascribe the astonishing victory to Lynton Crosby protege and election guru, Isaac Levido, whom Cummings acknowledged as a more effective election campaigner. Cummings’s detractors have failed to understand the true chain of command in CCHQ during those winter weeks in 2019. Levido certainly stole a leaf or two from Cumming’s referendum playbook, but the day-to-day strategy was conducted solely by the Crosby apostle. 

One remarkable manoeuvre that should be ascribed to Cummings was his navigation of the government through the storm of a paralysed and impassioned parliament. Despite the Supreme Court ruling and the dangerous divergence of opinions in the House of Commons, Cummings anticipated the outcome and drove his team assiduously in that direction, always assured that his way was the only way to realising the dream of Britain leaving the EU. In respect to his anomalous strategies and egregious campaigning style, he reminds me of the 19th century naval officer, Thomas Cochrane, who was nicknamed the “Sea Wolf” by Napoleon. Cochrane, like Cummings, pulled all sorts of strange stunts that baffled his enemies and enraged his superiors, but he was effective and rarely lost. In the Alan Turing biopic, The Imitation Game, a character says to Turing “you know, for this irascible genius act to really work, you actually have to be a genius.” Cummings has certainly proven that his unusual ideas and cantankerous character are worth heeding and enduring for the sake of securing an unlikely victory.   

Another, and perhaps, the most ambitious crusade of Cumming’s political life is his commitment to reforming the civil service. Consensus and collective organisation invariably breeds bureaucracy and bureaucracy never functions smoothly or entirely effectively, but you don’t have to believe in the practical prospect of perfection to appreciate the necessities of constant correction and improvement. In an era where the advertisement of activity feels more important than the production of credible content, Cummings’s clarion call to reform the system of Whitehall is worth supporting.

Cummings’s significance isn’t confined to his career record. His ideas are important and often mesmerise those with an instinct for reform. In a talk given in 2014 after his departure from the department of education, Cummings explained his vision for Britain and its method of governance.

In 1962, Secretary of State, Dean Acheson famously declared that “Britain has lost an empire but has not yet found a role”. During the talk, Cummings offered a solution to the conundrum that has plagued post-war British policy-makers for decades. His answer, he said, is to transform the United Kingdom into the university and laboratory of the world. 

We are already disproportionately ahead in scientific research and development in relation to our size and might. Some of the greatest and most venerated universities in the world are British and we have the means to provide the next generation of scientists, academics and statesmen and women with the training and insight they need to pilot our species through the tumult of the future.

If post-Brexit, the Cummings idea of committing governments to a spending programme that prioritizes the sciences and education is implemented it may reap rewards for us and our allies.

It is a policy that has been half-heartedly adopted numerous times since the War, but to ensure its effectiveness, Cummings points out how essential it is for subsequent governments to dedicate themselves to the construction of a long-term initiative. The scale and scope of Cummings’s policy considerations often dwarves the proposals of our elected representatives, much to the chagrin of parliamentarians. 

In this respect, his rowdy intrusion on the lethargy of Westminster policy production is healthy. It shows the next generation how much there is that needs fixing and offers an example of a progressive and ambitious reappraisal of our nation.

He shows similar qualities to the provincial lawyers and merchants who rose to executive heights during the frenzy of the French Revolution. They asked themselves fundamental questions about how their country could better function and rejected ostensibly insurmountable difficulties as good reasons to stunt ambition. Although, the Revolution didn’t turn out quite how they hoped.

Dominic Cummings’s manner inevitably invites valid criticisms. He appears arrogant at times and seems to enjoy the thrill of a good political shoot-out. Westminster and Whitehall shouldn’t feel like the wild west all the time, only when great and sudden change is needed. 

But in breaking the rules and daring to dream, Cummings at his best has shown that you don’t have to be personally popular to see your ideas on how to improve your country enacted.

Harry Cluff is a writer at Reaction. He formerly worked in politics as a researcher, outreach adviser and speechwriter.