There is a political concept in British politics, frequently credited to Tony Blair, that caution is necessary when launching attacks in opposition, since when you achieve power, it might return to strike you in the face.
As leader of the opposition, Keir Starmer mastered scoring points against the Conservatives. During the Partygate scandal in particular, he called for Boris Johnson to resign over his violation of regulations. "You should not be a lawmaker and a lawbreaker and it's time for him to go," he declared.
After Durham police began probing whether he had violated lockdown rules himself by consuming a beer and curry at a campaign event, he took a huge political gamble and vowed he would quit if found guilty. Luckily for him, he was exonerated.
At the time, possibly not completely advantageous for the Labour leader whom the public already perceived was rather rigid, Lisa Nandy described him as "Mr Rules," highlighting the contrast between Starmer's seemingly elevated ethical standards and Johnson's lack of concern.
Since taking power, the political attacks have returned toward the prime minister forcefully. Upholding such high standards of integrity, not just for himself but for his entire cabinet, was always going to be an impossible task, particularly in the imperfect realm of politics.
But few foresaw that it would be Starmer himself who would be the first to undermine his own position, when his failure to recognize that taking free glasses, clothing and Taylor Swift tickets could shatter what little belief existed that his government would be different.
Since then, the controversies have emerged rapidly, although they have varied in degree of severity. Louise Haigh was forced to resign as transport secretary last November after it was revealed she had been convicted of fraud over a missing work phone in 2014.
Tulip Siddiq resigned as a Treasury minister in January after acknowledging the government was being harmed by the furore over her strong connections to her aunt, the ousted prime minister of Bangladesh now facing corruption allegations.
The departure of Starmer's deputy, Angela Rayner, in September after she breached the ministerial code over her underpayment of stamp duty on her £800,000 seaside flat was the gravest setback yet.
Yet Starmer has consistently maintained there would be no special treatment. "People will truly trust we're changing politics when I dismiss someone on the spot. If a minister – any minister – makes a serious breach of the rules, they will be out. It makes no difference who it is, they will be sacked," he informed his chronicler Tom Baldwin before the election.
When it was revealed on Wednesday that Rachel Reeves, ranking immediately below the prime minister in seniority, could be in trouble, it sent a collective shudder round the top of government. If the chancellor were to go, the entire Starmer project could collapse entirely.
Downing Street, having seemingly gained insight from the Rayner dispute, acted decisively, announcing that the chancellor had admitted to "inadvertently" violating housing rules by renting out her south London home without the required £945 licence mandated by the local council.
Furthermore, the prime minister had already spoken with Reeves, consulted his ethics adviser, Laurie Magnus, and decided that additional inquiry into the matter was "not necessary," all within hours of the Daily Mail story emerging.
Early on Thursday morning, administration sources were assured that Reeves, while having made a mistake, had an justification: she had not been informed by her rental agency that her home was in a designated area which required a licence. She had promptly corrected the error by applying for one.
But Kemi Badenoch, whose Tory researchers are thought to be behind the story, was determined to get a scalp. "This entire situation smells. The prime minister needs to stop trying to cover this up, order a full investigation and, if Reeves has violated legislation, grow a backbone and dismiss her," she posted.
Fortunately for Reeves, she had documentation. Her husband dug out emails from the lettings agency they used to lease their home. Just before they were released, the agent issued a statement saying it had apologised to the couple for an "oversight" that meant they neglected to acquire a licence.
The chancellor appears to be in the clear, although there are remaining queries over why her account evolved overnight: from her being ignorant that a licence was necessary, to the agency having informed them it would submit the application for them.
Also, the law clearly states it is the property holder – rather than the lettings agent – that is legally accountable for submitting the application. It is also unclear how the couple failed to notice that almost £1000 had not left their bank account.
While the misdemeanour is comparatively small when measured against numerous ones committed during previous Tory administrations, Reeves's encounter with the ethical framework highlights the difficulties of Starmer's position on ethics.
His goal of restoring broken public faith in the political classes, eroded over time after years of scandals, may be comprehensible. But the dangers of adopting superior ethical standards – as the political consequences return – are evident: people are imperfect.
A certified yoga instructor and wellness coach passionate about holistic health and mindfulness.
