It worked, only: Mr. Johnson beeped home, with two-fifths of his party voting against him. That seemed like a stalemate, which would probably extend into the summer. Then came the events of the past week.
It’s worth thinking about why an apology seems to have changed the calculus so much. In reality, the decision to punish moral violations is often less straightforward than we like to admit. Scandals tend not to break the moment people ‘find out’ about bad behavior – stories of Mr Pincher’s wrongdoing have long circulated in Westminster, for example – but when they think a majority of others considered wrong. After all, people rarely judge in a vacuum.
In politics, where support can be counted among the numbers, this may be especially true. Apologies offered in hopes of limiting the damage often open the floodgates instead. By confirming that you have done something wrong, you give your accusers permission to pursue retaliation. It puts beyond doubt that they are right to judge you. Of course, that’s not to say that politicians are wrong to apologize when they’ve made a mistake. It’s often just that things don’t go well in politics.
This is not a new phenomenon, even though the political cost of apology seems to have increased in these brutal times. Richard Nixon, for example, sealed his tarnished reputation when… he apologized for his actions. The political career of a British Deputy Prime Minister, Nick Clegg, never came back after he apologized for breaking an election promise. And the apologies offered by Al Franken when he was accused of sexual harassment are generally considered weakening his position.
Mr Johnson, more than his predecessors, seemed to understand this fact. His talent for not apologizing was remarkable. His light-hearted denials caused a kind of cognitive dissonance in the minds of those who accused him – Was there a fact they had overlooked? Had they gone mad? Was he? — and also allowed supporters to make their own denials. In recent months, it has created a sort of moral vacuum in the British government, in which no one seemed to have the power to hold the Prime Minister accountable.
No longer. While the exact details of Mr Johnson’s future are unclear – a second vote of no confidence could come in days, and there is even speculation that he would call an election rather than be ousted by colleagues – the outline is unmistakable. . Having lost the support of some of his most loyal supporters, his grip on the leadership of the party and the country is rapidly weakening. It’s probably no consolation that he can’t blame anyone but himself.