Peter Hennessy once called Lords reform “the Bermuda Triangle of British politics.” Every generation or so, he observed, ambitious constitutional reform sails in, only to never re-emerge.
The wreckage from such failed efforts has littered the British political landscape for over a century. Since 1911, when the Parliament Act promised the establishment of “a Second Chamber constituted on a popular instead of hereditary basis,” numerous governments have unsuccessfully tried to reform or outright replace the upper chamber. The initial 1911 effort ultimately collapsed because it caveated its commitment with “such substitution cannot be immediately brought into operation.” The period of “immediately” has since stretched from 1911 to the present, and not from a lack of trying either. Numerous governments from across the political spectrum, ranging from Wilson’s first ministry to the Cameron-Clegg coalition, have all struggled to push through Lords reform. Meanwhile, the Labour Party’s 2024 manifesto promised to consult on “an alternative second chamber that is more representative of the regions and nations.” Although Keir Starmer managed to remove hereditary peers from the Lords during his premiership, this consultation never began before his departure from Downing Street. The Triangle has swallowed another attempt.
Now Andy Burnham stands in No 10, having said he will not “hold back” on early change to the Lords and long been a champion of its replacement with a Senate of the Nations and Regions. As strong as Burnham’s commitments are though, he must stand his ground while learning from the mistakes of all his predecessors. Whereas the Triangle may appear daunting, its workings are a series of logical mechanisms: the preamble pitfall, the pincer, and the salience trap. Burnham must outmanoeuvre them all if he is to succeed where so many others have failed.
The preamble pitfall is the first and perhaps most common mechanism which sinks Lords reform efforts. Had the 1911 Act not included its “immediately” language, the House of Lords could have been replaced over a century ago. In this context, Burnham has sensibly floated a first stage of reform through indirect election, linked to the next general election, but without providing further details so far. The danger is that the first stage becomes the settlement, as interim arrangements with the Lords tend to do. The best pre-emptive remedy would be to legislate a bridge from this first stage in this parliament to the second stage in the next parliament. By setting a timetable within the same act, the chances of a temporary half-reform turning into another century-long pause are reduced significantly.
The second mechanism to be wary of is the pincer. Lords reform is sometimes defeated by reformers who want something different. In Burnham’s case, he will be facing hardliner peers and traditionalists on one flank and, on the other, even some of his own colleagues who ask why the government is designing a new chamber rather than simply abolishing it.
Earlier Labour governments have been thwarted by these very dynamics. Among the most notable incidents was in 1968, when Harold Wilson’s Parliament (No. 2) Bill was torpedoed by the unlikeliest alliance in post-war politics: Michael Foot and Enoch Powell. Despite being political opposites, they effectively conspired to defeat it together.
Burnham should be mindful that a modern Foot–Powell alliance could appear too. Unlike Wilson though, whose reforms did not win much enthusiasm among a significant swathe of the Labour party, Burnham can draw upon other sources of support, namely metropolitan mayors, the Scottish Parliament, the Senedd, the combined authorities, and other sub-national polities, all of which stand to benefit from the replacement of the Lords with this Senate. No previous reform ever had organised institutional champions outside Westminster, but the very nature of the proposed Senate could draw them in. Burnham should likewise seek support from other parties too, especially the Lib Dems and Greens, which could be achieved through progressive outreach.
The third mechanism of opposition is the most dangerous, because it is the most reasonable. Lords reform is a first-order constitutional question with fourth-order salience on the campaign trail. The inability of governments to clear the salience trap has been a factor in the failure of nearly every Lords reform attempt since 1911, as governments have faced other pressing issues and feel that they can kick the can on this matter rather than spending political capital to see it through.
In today’s circumstances, the average voter is more concerned with the cost-of-living crisis than any debates surrounding an elected senate. Burnham has already recognised the former by instructing his cabinet to tackle it as their top priority, even if the latter is still present on his agenda. Nevertheless, if this ministry needs bandwidth to better address the cost of living, it will be very tempting for Burnham to remove constitutional reform as a policy priority, just as so many of his predecessors have done.
Still, where Burnham differs from his predecessors is how he pitched his premiership as a radical rebalancing of power away from Westminster and towards the nations and regions. Having spent nine years in Manchester arguing for exactly this, Burnham sees the Senate of the Nations and Regions as the keystone to seeing through permanent reforms to devolution. As it stands, devolved powers exist more at the pleasure of Westminster, as demonstrated when the Starmer government postponed numerous local elections in 2025 as part of wider devolution plans. In contrast, a Senate would successfully entrench devolved power, preventing further centralised meddling.
Burnham does have a mandate for such reform too, because the 2024 Labour manifesto already promised to consult on a replacement chamber. Launching a citizens’ assembly on this topic costs nothing in legislative time and fulfils an existing promise to the electorate. It additionally banks the groundwork this parliament has already done, so that a fully worked-through Senate could go in the next manifesto.
A century of governments has entered the Triangle armed with good intentions and no map. However, Burnham enters this Triangle with far more preparation: a reform directly tied to his other policies, a long list of potential allies outside Westminster, and a manifesto mandate already in hand. These advantages could be vital for finally breaking the long streak of failures that have marked upper chamber reform and charting a course out of the Bermuda Triangle.