It was never going to be pretty. Even if school buildings hadn’t been found to be collapsing all around us, the first prime minister’s questions of the new session was always likely to be brutal for Rishi Sunak. The government’s attempts to seize control of the news agenda over the summer had backfired badly. Small boats week, NHS week and crime week had all left ministers trying to explain why nothing was going as planned. It was as if the idiots had taken over the asylum. Which of course, they have. Only the idiots are left. To be a halfwit in the current Conservative party is a status symbol. Most are far dimmer than that. Sunak’s problem is that almost everyone has long since given up listening to him. There was a brief period after he replaced Liz Truss when a few people kept half an ear open to him but that window has long been closed. Now he’s just an irritant. White noise. A man programmed to be a very basic form of artificial intelligence whose only output is to take the country for mugs. RishGPT. The words tumble out in an entitled nasal whine but everyone has zoned out. Life is too short. People have given the Tories more than enough chances already. Time’s up. Just about the only people who vaguely believe in the Sunak dream are his own backbenchers. At least the hardcore few who can still be bothered to come and offer their leader support. The others are busy making alternative arrangements for after the next election. But those happy few who do make it are all that’s left of the Tory echo chamber. They believe because they can’t allow themselves not to. A state of denial is the only way they can preserve their sanity. Better the safety of a collective fantasy than the reality of annihilation. If RishGPT dies, they die. So there were a few forced cheers from his own benches as Sunak entered the Commons. Nickie Aiken even waved her order paper. A few MPs near her eyed her up suspiciously. Whatever she was on, they wanted some. Tories have to take their pleasures where they find them these days. Gillian Keegan was shunted down to the far end of the frontbench. Just in case she managed to cross-contaminate the prime minister with Raac. No 10’s golden rule is that nothing is ever Sunak’s fault. RishGPT did his best to be seen not to notice any of this. He kept his head down throughout the 40 minutes. His new survival tactic. Pretend not to exist and avoid eye contact at all costs. Just in case anyone tries to peer into his soul. What’s left of it. At least this time Sunak knew what was coming. There was no surprise in any of Keir Starmer’s six questions. So RishGPT had had some time to prepare some kind of defence. The downside was that he was still pretty much powerless. Like a man tied to a railway track who knows that a train is due. After nearly a week to try to think up some kind of answers, all that Sunak could do was repeat the excuses made by the Department for Education that had already been laughed at. Presumably it was the best he could do. In which case it wasn’t nearly good enough.
Starmer kept it fairly simple throughout. Each question prefaced with the example of a school that had been falling apart for years and which the government had done nothing about. The prime minister had been the man who had cut the school funding budget two years ago. Did he, like Keegan, think he should be thanked? Of course he did. RishGPT can’t believe how rude the country has been to him. After all he has done. He gave up a well-paid job to work for peanuts in government and where was the gratitude? “I make no apology for having been so quick to respond,” he said. Sneery voice. Sometimes he can’t help himself. Though if that was quick, we’d hate to see slow. The government still has no answer to its failure to realise that concrete that was past its sell-by date of 50 years might be a problem. I mean, that’s competence level 101. The Labour leader kept probing the government failures. Sunak merely retreated into prepared soundbites. Hard to believe that they had felt like killer lines back in No 10. Far from cutting budgets, he had increased them to higher than they were 10 years previously. Er … that would be the budget a previous Tory government had cut. And we’re paying for the brains who come up with this stuff. “You’re Captain Hindsight,” said RishGPT. So cutting! Devastating! Imagine recycling one of Boris Johnson’s feeble gags. Besides which, the country is in the mood to reflect. A lot of people are wondering whether they did the right thing to trust the Tories. What’s more, Sunak added, Labour were just guilty of political opportunism. By asking the questions to which everyone wanted an answer. Rish! couldn’t have sounded more out of touch. After that outburst, RishGPT rather lost it. Labour had never mentioned crumbling buildings before. They had. Only this summer. Along with countless questions. And hey, at least children could read. Those who weren’t buried under falling masonry. What was stopping kids from wearing helmets? And why weren’t people more thrilled that falling inflation had made things slightly less unaffordable? “Quite right,” chipped in the Tory MP Nicola Richards. “Let’s celebrate the good times.” Growth just above stagnant. Energy bills still sky high. More small boats. Higher mortgage payments. It was hard to know if she was taking the piss. Richards is so excited to be a Tory MP she is standing down at the next election. Presumably she now feels her life’s work is done. Nothing to do with the fact she is facing an electoral wipeout. Such a legacy. The rest of the session was something of a let-down. Taking the lead from Keegan, several MPs amused themselves by trying to think up as many ways as possible to say bottom. We got bum, derriere, backside and arse. Not the most edifying. But better than listening to Sunak’s struggles I guess. And what else can you say about a zombie parliament when even its MPs have given up? Depraved New World by John Crace (Guardian Faber, £16.99). To support The Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.