Andy Burnham’s new social contract arrived in two instalments. On Wednesday he promised to repair social care. On Thursday he went to Barrow-in-Furness to put nuclear-armed submarines at the heart of a ‘reindustrialised Britain’. A little care, then the machinery for ending civilisation. Something for everyone.
‘Security is not only about what we build; it is about who builds it, and who benefits from it,’ Burnham declared. The next £8.4 billion phase of the Dreadnought programme includes a £5.9 billion contract for BAE Systems. Downing Street says nuclear defence will support 18,000 jobs by 2030 and 22,000 apprenticeships by 2035. Career ladders used to lead up. The new ones descend directly into the missile bay.
Burnham inherited this programme from previous governments but has chosen to make it his own. His appointment of John Healey—who had resigned as defence secretary demanding greater military expenditure—as chancellor was about as subtle as an Oasis song. Babcock shares rose 7 per cent, BAE 3 per cent and Rolls-Royce nearly 2 per cent.
Burnham’s particular talent is to make a conventional British imperialist programme sound like sensible advice from a concerned northern dad: social care reform, cheaper electricity and better jobs are popular; spending tens of billions preparing for war less so. But tie them together and rearmament begins to sound like national renewal. Burnham’s job is to sell this Faustian pact to the working class.
Protection racket
The sales pitch depends upon identifying the security of workers with the security of the British state. For workers, security means a home, healthcare, care in old age, a reliable income, protection from floods and fires and some confidence that nobody will incinerate the city. For the state, it means the power to threaten its rivals and maintain its position in the world.
When Burnham talks about the ‘defence of Britain’, he doesn’t mean defending the people who live here. He means defending the state that guards the ruling class’s property and profits, sustains its alliance with the United States and claims a share of the world’s plunder. Trident is the price Britain’s rulers make us pay for their seat at the imperial top table and the ability to bully those seated further down.
Defenders of Trident say it is never meant to be fired. But a nuclear weapon is permanently in action. Deterrence works by convincing another government that you are willing to burn millions of people alive. That isn’t an unfortunate side effect: it’s the whole point.
Burnham’s defence secretary, Wes Streeting, put it plainly enough: ‘Should deterrence fail, we’re ready to fight and win.’ Tanks, drones, missiles and warships are not industrial ornaments. They are built because governments expect them to threaten, destroy and kill.
Nuclear security blanket
The apprenticeships are the ideological centre of Burnham’s bargain. A young worker’s first skilled job, union membership and future in their hometown are made dependent upon BAE Systems and the military budget. It’s a short step to identifying your job, home and family with the predatory interests of the British state.
If the government can mobilise billions, coordinate production over decades, preserve engineering capacity and train thousands of young workers to build a handful of submarines, it could do the same to provide public transport, civilian ships, energy infrastructure, housing and equipment to confront climate breakdown. After all, why should manufacturing weapons be one of the few reliable routes into a respected and well-paid career while carers, teachers, health workers and firefighters remain scandalously underpaid?
Instead of challenging this blackmail, trade-union leaders freelance as unpaid lobbyists for the defence industry, treating each new weapons order as a victory for their corner of the working class. The answer is to take BAE and the other arms companies into public ownership under workers’ control, guarantee every job, wage and pension, and redirect their skills and facilities towards meeting social needs and confronting the great dangers of our time.
More than forty years ago, Threads unforgettably showed what our rulers’ ‘security’ meant for working-class Sheffield. In 2026, with fires and extreme heat already making the present look unpleasantly apocalyptic, a remake is planned. Burnham’s remake of the economy promises a brighter future for a new generation of workers. Unfortunately, the light at the end of his tunnel shines with the radiance of a thousand suns.
