How low can slogans go?

POLITICAL catchphrases tend to become extinct about as often as prime ministers. When was the last time, for example, you heard anyone say: “Education, education, education”?

We heard you the first time, Tony.

What about “the war against terror”, which mysteriously changed to “the war on terror” once someone worked out the acronym? Or, for that matter, whatever happened to “Brexit means Brexit”?

In fact, there were a few of Theresa’s that became obsolete when she did. “Red, white and blue Brexit” anyone?

Occasionally, oppositions attempt to weaponise slogans retrospectively. I presume if the looming trade war with Europe does materialise and a lump of brie and a bottle of Prosecco end up costing £48, “Get Brexit Done” may one day fall into that category.

“Levelling up” is already heading that way. By the next general election, assuming the cost of living crisis doesn’t magically disappear, plenty of people are going to feel levelled down to the breadline.

But there’s one of our soonto-be departed leader’s catchphrases which I will be thrilled to see relegated to obscurity. I’ve no doubt we’ll hear it again in the “getting a divorce but still living together” phase we’re in.

It’s that magic catchphrase the greased piglet employed day after day, as he slithered his way out of one self-made shambles and headlong into another: “We’re getting on with the job, and delivering on the things that matter for the British people.”

What this really means is “please ignore the fact I knowingly hired a suspected sex offender” and “Yes, I held illegal parties, but that doesn’t matter to the British people”. The psychodrama permacrisis that is the life of Boris Johnson means he’ll still have to “draw a line under” plenty more little whoopsies before this fetid episode can finally end.

But now all eyes are on who’s next. Expectation, it’s fair to say, is not particularly high. For months it’s felt like you could select a new prime minister at random from any old prison or rehab centre and they’d at least have done a less calamitous job.

The hopefuls lumbering on the horizon hardly fill the soul with hope for a brighter tomorrow. As one commentator put it, it’s like trying to choose which portaloo to use on day three of a music festival. No doubt they’re coming up with their own slogans to wind their way into the history books with them.

We just have to hope “Let’s go back to the Stone Age with Penny Mourdant” isn’t the winner.