These are the (rough) notes for my most recent Mooney on Politics podcast: 7 lessons for Irish politics from the Burnham spill. I use the Australian term “spill” in place of the more traditional “heave”… but they are the same thing… except the Aussies have become masters at spilling.
When I first started planning this episode, my intention was to review the last six months in Irish politics. There has been more legislative activity in the Dáil, fewer procedural motions, and some genuinely substantive pieces of legislation have been introduced. So, in terms of the Government’s workload, there has been an increase in activity.
However, when you step back and look at the broader political picture… polling, public mood, and the overall direction of travel—there has been remarkably little movement.
Perhaps that’s not entirely surprising. We’re in the second year of a government term, and historically this is often a period of relative stability. But given the scale of the challenges facing Ireland, I don’t believe the level of political urgency matches the seriousness of those challenges.
Whether we’re talking about the controversy surrounding Aughinish Alumina, developments in the Strait of Hormuz and their potential impact on energy prices, the continuing housing crisis, or a range of other pressing issues, there simply isn’t the sense of decisive political leadership that many people are looking for.
Increasingly, we’re seeing members of the Government, though not all of them, it has to be said, but particularly the Taoiseach and Tánaiste falling back into the familiar habit of providing a running commentary on events, almost as though they were detached observers rather than the people actually responsible for making decisions. They speak about problems instead of demonstrating that they’re actively solving them.
As for the Opposition, it hasn’t exactly covered itself in glory either. While there have certainly been exceptions, much of the Opposition has failed to present itself as a convincing alternative. Criticism has often replaced constructive proposals, and that’s not enough if you’re asking the electorate to entrust you with government.
So rather than offering a month-by-month review of the last six months, I think there’s a more interesting—and more useful—way of approaching this discussion.
Instead, I want to look across the Irish Sea at what’s happened in British politics and ask a simple question:
What lessons can Ireland learn from it?
I believe there are important lessons, not just about what has happened over the past six months, but about what could happen over the next six months. Perhaps even beyond.
The focus of today’s podcast is leadership. Specifically, what we’ve seen following the removal of Keir Starmer as Labour leader and the extraordinary rise of Andy Burnham. Whatever your political views, the speed and effectiveness of Burnham’s ascent tells us something important about how leadership changes can reshape political parties.
More importantly, it tells us something about how political leadership can change public perceptions almost overnight.
I believe there are lessons here for at least four political parties in Ireland.
Certainly for Fianna Fáil, Fine Gael, and Sinn Féin, but also for the Labour Party.
The only party I’m largely excluding from today’s discussion is the Social Democrats. That’s not because they’re without challenges, but because I don’t think their primary difficulty is one of leadership. Their problem is organisational.
They have strong performers in a number of constituencies, but they still lack the national grassroots infrastructure needed to compete consistently across the country.
Ironically, the Social Democrats possess many of the qualities that today’s Labour Party needs: a clearer identity, a stronger brand, and a more distinctive political message. Labour, meanwhile, retains something the Social Democrats still lack—a national organisation, local structures, and an established political infrastructure.
Neither party is complete. One has the message, the other has the machinery. Whether those strengths can ever be combined is another question entirely.
The Leadership Question
Let’s begin with Sinn Féin. I think it’s increasingly likely that Mary Lou McDonald will not lead Sinn Féin into the next general election. I wouldn’t say it’s certain, but I do believe it’s becoming more probable.
If that’s the case, the party needs to start thinking seriously about what comes next—not simply who the next leader will be, but how that leadership transition is managed and what message it sends to the electorate. The next Sinn Féin leader cannot simply represent continuity. Nor can the party continue to define itself purely through opposition.
My view is that Mary Lou McDonald has probably brought Sinn Féin as far as she can. In fact, I’d argue that the high-water mark was reached somewhere between eighteen months and two years ago. Since then, the party has slipped back.
Even in Northern Ireland, recent polling suggests Sinn Féin has fallen significantly below where it stood at the last Assembly election. The problem isn’t simply electoral support. The deeper problem is that Sinn Féin no longer looks like an alternative government. Instead, it increasingly resembles the party it used to be: a party of protest rather than a party preparing for office.
Whoever eventually succeeds Mary Lou McDonald will have to change that perception. The party needs to convince voters that it is capable of governing, not simply criticising those who do.
Fine Gael presents a rather different picture. A few months ago, immediately after the general election, Simon Harris appeared to face genuine questions about his leadership. He had not fought an especially strong election campaign, despite becoming leader on the promise that he would deliver victory.
Fine Gael returned to government, but there was a widespread feeling inside the party that the campaign had been far more difficult than it needed to be, and many of the mistakes were associated with the leadership.
Since then, however, circumstances have changed. The Galway West bye-election win has secured Simon Harris’s position. The knives have been put away. The speculation about his future has subsided, and as the Government moves towards the scheduled rotation of the Taoiseach next November, he looks considerably more secure than he did only a few months ago.
Fianna Fáil faces perhaps the most difficult leadership question of all. Micheál Martin’s greatest opponent is not another politician. It’s time.
He’s led the party since 2011. He’s one of the longest-serving party leaders in the history of the State and, inevitably, it becomes increasingly difficult to present yourself as the face of renewal after so many years. The real question isn’t whether Micheál Martin is capable of leading Fianna Fáil into another election.
It’s whether Fianna Fáil actually wants him to.
I’ve said this repeatedly over the past few years. If the parliamentary party genuinely wants Micheál Martin to lead them into the next election, then the issue is settled. But I don’t believe that’s where the majority of Fianna Fáil TDs are.
I think many have privately concluded that someone else should fight the next election. The difficulty is that they haven’t followed that conclusion to its logical end. If Micheál Martin isn’t going to lead the party into the next election, then when exactly do you change leader?
The available window is narrow. Ideally, Fianna Fáil would enter the election with a leader who has already served as Taoiseach and who has had time to establish authority in the role. If Micheál Martin remains until the scheduled handover next November, that opportunity disappears. Waiting until early 2027 creates an even bigger problem.
You could potentially have three Taoisigh within a single year. You would have Micheál Martin remaining in office into the early months of the year, followed by the election of a new Fianna Fáil leader, only for the office of Taoiseach to transfer to Simon Harris a few months later under the coalition agreement.
That would almost certainly require two major Cabinet reshuffles in quick succession. Every reshuffle slows government. Departments lose momentum, ministers spend months learning new briefs, and officials inevitably become more cautious while awaiting new political direction.
A minister appointed in March who knows they may be moved again in November has very little incentive to begin ambitious long-term reforms. The result is political gridlock.
If Fianna Fáil decides that a leadership change is necessary, then it needs to happen sooner rather than later. By the autumn, certainly before the end of the year, there should be absolute clarity about who will lead the party into the next election.
Micheál Martin would have completed Ireland’s Presidency of the European Union, enjoyed the international recognition that comes with that office, and could leave having completed that chapter of his political career. At that point, the party’s focus has to shift from honouring the past to preparing for the future.
Seven lessons
That brings us to the central argument of today’s podcast. Looking at everything that’s happened in Britain following Andy Burnham’s rise to the Labour leadership, I believe there are seven important lessons. They’re lessons about leadership itself.
And that brings me to the first lesson. If leadership is going to change, the process matters almost as much as the outcome. How you remove or replace a leader can be just as important as who ultimately wins. The first lesson, therefore, is a simple one:
Lesson One: Don’t Make It Personal
If you’re going to challenge a leader—or defend one—the debate should never descend into personalities. It has to be about politics, policy, performance and public confidence. One of the reasons Andy Burnham’s leadership campaign proved so effective was that he was exceptionally disciplined in this regard.
He never turned the campaign into a personal vendetta against Keir Starmer. That doesn’t mean others didn’t. There were certainly people around the leadership challenge who had old grievances to settle or who believed they had been badly treated. That’s inevitable in politics.
But Burnham himself remained remarkably careful.
His argument wasn’t that Keir Starmer was a bad person. His argument was that the Government wasn’t performing as it should, that Labour was losing public confidence, and that a different style of leadership was needed. That’s a fundamentally different argument.
When politics becomes personal, voters often switch off. They see politicians fighting each other instead of solving problems. Whether we’re talking about Fianna Fáil, Fine Gael, Sinn Féin or Labour, any leadership debate has to centre on direction, credibility and delivery. It cannot become an exercise in settling scores. The public doesn’t like or reward personal skirmishes.
Lesson Two: Timing Matters
If you’re going to make a move, don’t allow uncertainty to drag on indefinitely. The longer a leadership question remains unresolved, the stronger the incumbent often appears. That’s one of the paradoxes of politics.
Even a weakened leader begins to look like the symbol of stability if those arguing for change spend months hesitating, briefing journalists anonymously, or endlessly debating whether now is the right time.
Equally, you can’t rush into a leadership challenge simply because you’re impatient. Success depends on recognising the right moment. Andy Burnham understood this perfectly. When Labour’s National Executive prevented him from contesting the first by-election that might have provided a platform, he didn’t abandon his ambitions.
Nor did he launch an ill-prepared campaign. Instead, he recognised that the political clock hadn’t yet started. He used the time to prepare, to organise and to wait for the opportunity that would eventually arrive.
And when it came, he acted decisively. That balance: not too slow, not too impulsive is something Irish political parties have struggled to achieve for well over a decade.
Lesson Three: Preparation Wins
Preparation matters. No serious leadership campaign succeeds by accident. It requires planning. It requires trusted advisers. It requires a disciplined team. Most importantly, it requires a clear idea of what happens after victory. Winning the leadership isn’t the destination. It’s the beginning.
Too many leadership contests focus exclusively on removing the existing leader, with remarkably little thought given to what comes next. Burnham’s campaign was different. It wasn’t simply about replacing Keir Starmer. It was about changing the tone of government. It was about reshaping the Cabinet.
It was about demonstrating that a government which many people regarded as tired, flat and disconnected would immediately begin governing differently. That was the message. The leadership election wasn’t presented as an end in itself.
It was presented as the first step in renewing the Government. That’s why preparation matters so much. If you want to change your party, you need to know exactly what you’re changing it into. Voters aren’t interested in political drama for its own sake.
They’re interested in whether a new leader will actually produce better government. The day after victory is always more important than the day of victory itself. If you haven’t planned for that day, then you’ve only won an internal contest. You haven’t convinced the public that anything meaningful has changed.
They prepare for different possibilities and remain flexible enough to respond without losing sight of their overall objective.
Planning Is More Important Than the Plan
Before moving to the next lesson, there’s one important point that naturally follows from preparation. There’s an old military saying:
“No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.”
The same applies in politics. No political plan survives exactly as it was originally written. That’s why planning matters more than the plan itself. A good strategy is built on principles rather than rigid assumptions. If events change… and they always do… you adapt.
If your entire strategy depends upon people behaving exactly as you expected, then the first unexpected development will destroy it. Experienced and grounded political teams understand this. They prepare for different possibilities and remain flexible enough to respond without losing sight of their overall objective.
Lesson Four: Leadership Requires Risk
Politics rewards calculated risk-taking. But that’s a very different from gambling. A political risk is taken by someone who understands that success is never guaranteed. They know they can’t control every event, but they believe they can influence events sufficiently to give themselves the best possible chance of success.
Real leadership requires accepting that possibility of failure. The willingness to risk failure often makes success more convincing when it comes. Those seeking to replace an incumbent leader cannot afford to be so cautious that they become invisible.
The sitting leader always begins with advantages. They control the machinery of office, they dominate media attention, and they enjoy the authority that comes with incumbency. Keir Starmer used those advantages. He successfully prevented Andy Burnham from contesting the first by-election that might have accelerated his campaign.
But Burnham adapted. Rather than allowing that setback to define him, he turned it into an opportunity. When the next opportunity came, he was ready. Looking back now, many people claim Labour’s victory Makerfield by-election was inevitable. It wasn’t.
During the opening stages of the campaign, plenty of commentators believed Reform would retain the seat. The local election results only weeks earlier had suggested Labour faced a very difficult contest. Poll after poll placed Makerfield outside Labour’s most likely victories. But Burnham believed otherwise.
More importantly, he communicated a message that was distinct from the wider Labour narrative. When Labour won, Burnham didn’t merely look like an alternative leader. He looked like a winner. That matters enormously in politics. Victory changes perceptions.
Parties that never take risks often appear to be waiting for permission from the electorate instead of trying to lead public opinion. Leadership means shaping events… not simply reacting to them… and certainly not just commenting on them
Lesson Five: Control the Message
The fifth lesson is about discipline. Successful leadership campaigns are built around a trusted inner circle. They require discipline. They require discretion. And above all, they require control of the message.
The old political rule still applies: If everyone knows the plan, then nobody controls the plan.
There’s another equally valuable rule: Those who know don’t talk, and those who talk usually don’t know.
The period before Burnham announced his Cabinet illustrated this perfectly. For days there was endless speculation about who would become Chancellor. Looking back now, it’s clear that most of that speculation wasn’t coming from Burnham’s team at all. It was coming from people connected to those hoping to secure the position.
The individual who eventually became Chancellor knew well in advance. So did Burnham’s closest advisers. None of them spoke publicly. They maintained discipline. They kept control of the narrative. That’s no accident.
Andy Burnham is an exceptionally skilled communicator. He understands how modern media works. He avoids unnecessary speculation. He keeps his advisory circle deliberately small. His closest advisers rarely seek publicity for themselves.
Most importantly, they never allow journalists, commentators, political insiders or even well-connected supporters to dictate the campaign’s narrative. They write the script. Everyone else reacts to it.
Lesson Six: Day One Matters
The sixth lesson is perhaps the easiest for voters to recognise. A new leader must demonstrate change immediately.
Not promises. Not aspirations.
Actions.
Early appointments matter. Early policy decisions matter. Early announcements of actions matter. Actions matter most of all. They tell the public whether the leadership change represents genuine renewal or simply new packaging around old ideas. This principle applies particularly in government, but it also matters in opposition.
Even where your formal powers are limited, you can still demonstrate seriousness, urgency and direction by acting decisively within the authority you already possess. One of the most striking aspects of Burnham’s leadership has been the rhythm of decision-making.
Almost every day has brought another announcement. Whether addressing fuel prices, the cost of living or wider government priorities, each announcement reinforces the impression that change has already begun.
They’re making what might be called a down payment on future reform.
They’ve already signalled that a broader ten-year programme will follow after the summer. But instead of asking voters simply to wait, they’ve demonstrated immediate intent. There’s another international example that illustrates the same principle. Peter Magyar’s new Tisza government in Hungary has adopted a similar approach.
Rather than promising reform at some undefined point in the future, it has moved rapidly to abolish unpopular institutions, repeal controversial regulations and introduce visible reforms almost immediately. Perhaps the clearest symbolic gesture has been Magyar’s decision to impose a two-term limit on his own office.
Whether one agrees with every policy isn’t the point. The point is that these are actions. Not vague commitments that might be fulfilled years from now. Immediate action tells voters that change is real.
Lesson Seven: Don’t Fear a Little Blood
The final lesson is perhaps the hardest for political parties to accept. Leadership changes are rarely painless. Incumbent leaders almost always argue that removing them will divide the party, weaken colleagues and leave lasting resentment. Sometimes they’re right. History provides plenty of examples.
Albert Reynolds dismissed ministers who later sat on the backbenches waiting for an opportunity to bring him down. But it’s worth remembering what actually happened. They didn’t defeat him before he made mistakes. He made mistakes first. Then they acted. That’s politics.
The reality is that there is no such thing as a completely bloodless leadership challenge. There will always be disappointment. There will always be people whose careers suffer. There will always be tensions that need to be repaired afterwards. The important thing is not to avoid conflict altogether. The important thing is to resolve it quickly, restore unity and move forward.
Every successful leadership transition involves some political bloodletting. The mistake is imagining otherwise. If you believe there’s such a thing as a bloodless coup, a bloodless heave or a bloodless leadership spill, then you’re simply fooling yourself.
Politics doesn’t work that way.
What Does This Mean for Irish Politics?
So, what lessons should Ireland’s political parties take from Andy Burnham’s rise? Each party faces a different challenge, but there are common themes running through all of them.
Fianna Fáil
For Fianna Fáil, the lesson is straightforward. Leadership questions cannot be postponed indefinitely.
If a majority of the party believes that a change of leadership is necessary before the next general election, then it needs to confront that reality honestly and decisively. The worst possible option is to spend months pretending there isn’t a question while quietly hoping it resolves itself.
Leadership transitions should never become personal. They should be about the future direction of the party, its ability to govern, and the confidence it inspires among the electorate. If change is required, then make the case for change.
If continuity is the better option, then defend it openly. But don’t drift.
Fine Gael
Fine Gael faces a different problem. I don’t believe there’s an immediate leadership issue. Simon Harris appears to have secured his position, at least for the foreseeable future. The challenge is one of incumbency.
After so many years in government, voters naturally begin to expect results rather than announcements. Too often, ministers find themselves commenting on what might happen instead of demonstrating what has already happened.
Speculation is no substitute for delivery. The Government needs to show visible progress rather than simply discussing future intentions.
Sinn Féin
For Sinn Féin, the warning is sharper. If the party genuinely wants to be viewed as an alternative government, it has to stop behaving primarily as a protest movement.
Opposition is easy. Government is difficult. Voters expect more than criticism. They expect solutions. Ironically, Sinn Féin has already demonstrated that it understands this lesson.
After its disappointing local election performance in 2019, the party consciously repositioned itself. It appeared more disciplined, more constructive and more focused on presenting itself as a government-in-waiting. For a period, that strategy worked exceptionally well.
In recent years, however, much of that discipline has been lost. The party has slipped back into familiar habits, relying more heavily on criticism than on convincing voters that it is ready to govern. Recovering that sense of credibility may prove just as important as any future leadership change.
The Labour Party
The Labour Party’s challenge is different again. Its biggest problem is clarity. It needs a much sharper sense of identity. What does Labour stand for and how does that define its relationship with the Social Democrats?
The two parties occupy much of the same political space. Unless each can explain why it offers something distinct, both risk limiting their own potential.
The Broader Lesson
Ultimately, Andy Burnham’s rise isn’t simply a story about one politician replacing another. It’s a case study in political leadership. The qualities that made the transition successful weren’t ideological.
They were organisational. Discipline. Timing. Preparation. Courage. Trust. Communication. And, above all, action.
Political parties often spend enormous amounts of time discussing policies. Policies matter. But voters also judge whether a party looks capable of governing. Does it appear organised? Does it appear disciplined? Does it look ready to take decisions?
Most importantly, does it know what it would do from the very first day it entered office? Those questions matter just as much as any individual policy proposal. Indeed, they’re even more important for parties that are already in government.
Holding power brings responsibility. The public expects ministers not merely to describe events but to shape them.
If you want voters to believe you can govern, then you have to behave like a government before polling day—or, if you’re already in office, demonstrate every day that you’re governing with purpose.
That, for me, is the central lesson from everything we’ve seen in Britain over the past few weeks. The events surrounding Andy Burnham’s rise offer seven clear lessons for Irish politics. Not every lesson applies equally to every party. Some parties may need only some of them.
Others, I suspect, could benefit from all seven.
But taken together, they offer a valuable reminder that successful political leadership is rarely accidental. It is built on preparation, discipline, courage and the willingness to act when the moment arrives.
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