Britain’s good-chap model of government is coming apart

THE GOVERNMENT has discovered an ingenious method of not losing votes: don’t hold them. Earlier this month Theresa May’s unpopular Brexit deal faced certain defeat in the House of Commons. Instead, the government pulled it. To postpone the vote it ought really to have sought Parliament’s permission—at least, that would have been “in democratic terms, the infinitely preferable way…in any courteous, respectful and mature environment,” according to John Bercow, the speaker of the House. But the government decided not to bother, using a sneaky procedural method to go over MPs’ heads.

Britain’s ramshackle constitution allows plenty of scope for such shenanigans. Whereas every other Western democracy has codified its system of government, Britain’s constitution is a mish-mash of laws and conventions, customs and courtesies. Britain sees no need for the legalistic or (worse) European idea of writing down its constitution in one place. Instead it relies on the notion that its politicians know where the unwritten lines of the constitution lie, and do not cross them. “The British constitution is a state of mind,” says Peter Hennessy, a historian who calls this the “good chap” theory of government. “It requires a sense of restraint all round to make it work.” Yet amid Britain’s current crisis, such restraint has been lacking.