The Left in Anglospheric countries has long been influenced by the belief that these nations political practices and institutions are stuck in the past. While much of the world, driven by ideologies such as Marxism, nationalism, and liberal rationalism, has discarded practices and institutions deemed remnants of a bygone era in the belief that such actions are necessary to bring about salvation and a more perfect society, the Anglosphere continues to adhere to “anachronistic” practices, procedures, and institutions. These include the American electoral college, the British monarchy and House of Lords, and various ceremonies—ideologues see them not only as obstacles to their salvationist vision but also as unfashionable and unacceptable in twenty-first-century democracies. As a result, much of the political program of the Left in the Anglospheric world is a campaign for “self-renewal,” aimed at bringing these nations in line with the rest of the world and, they claim, with democracy itself.

　　This campaign has taken many forms, one of which is constitutional perfectionism—an ideology that suggests an ideal society can be established and maintained through a constitutional framework designed according to a rationalist blueprint. This political salvationism has become a fashionable tool for ideologues to achieve what the political process has thus far failed to deliver: the complete implementation of their ideological vision.

　　While I have previously discussed the dangers of constitutional perfectionism, it appears that the Left in the Anglosphere has revived another approach to disguise their constitutional perfectionist ambitions and advance their agenda. This approach is “modernisation,” a passion for reinventing, recasting, and rebranding the anachronistic political practices, institutions, and procedures of Anglospheric countries to fit contemporary times. This zeal for modernisation is one important driving force behind the policies of Sir Keir Starmer’s Labour government in Britain.

　　There is nothing inherently wrong with modernisation; change is an inevitable part of human life and conduct. The current Labour governments zeal for modernisation in Britain, however, involves imposing certain procedural and constitutional innovations, often presented under the guise of restoring public service.” This passion for modernisation is not surprising. It was evident during Tony Blairs New Labour government, under whose leadership radical constitutional perfectionist changes were enacted, such as devolution, the reform of the House of Lords, and the creation of the UK Supreme Court. Yet, this new Labour government has set its sights on an important target for “modernisation: the House of Commons, in addition to the proposed changes to the House of Lords, which involves the abolition of hereditary peers.

　　Thus, Labours 2024 manifesto informs the voting public that the party will establish a new Modernisation Committee tasked with reforming House of Commons procedures, driving up standards, and improving working practices. A similar committee for the House of Commons was established during the New Labour administration between 1997 and 2008, whose recommendations were largely implemented. These changes affected the legislative process, introduced debates in Westminster Hall, and altered the sitting hours and calendar of the House, among other adjustments. Apart from the proposal to ban Members of Parliament (MPs) from “taking up roles that stop them serving their constituents and the country,” however, the Labour manifesto is vague about what other modernising measures will be pursued.

　　Nevertheless, the July 25 debate on the motion to establish the committee laid bare the full scope of the modernisation project. For instance, Green MP Ellie Chowns advocated for the introduction of electronic voting, arguing that the current system is “an utter waste of time and totally unproductive.” She also suggested removing the voting lobbies to increase the size of the chamber and called for the adoption of proportional representation. Similarly, Scottish National Party MP Kirsty Blackman asserted that the committee must “drag the House into the 20th century—never mind the 21st century.” Meanwhile, Liberal Democrat MP Wendy Chamberlain argued that “modernisation is … about making this a modern system fit for policy decisions to be made for the benefit of our constituents” and creating “a workplace that ensures democracy works.” Indeed, their critique of the Commons “archaic” practices and procedures might even lead one to believe that Britain is closer to despotism than to a fully functioning democracy.

　　The words of these MPs are revealing, as they showcase a fervent passion for modernising the House of Commons to function as a “proper” legislative chamber for a twenty-first-century democracy. Given the early stages of this process, it is premature to comment on or pass judgment on the modernising proposals. My primary concern, though, is that the enthusiasm for modernisation merely serves as a façade to concealment of the growing “servile mentality” that afflicts the West. In his final book, The Servile Mind: How Democracy Erodes the Moral Life, Kenneth Minogue explained that the “servile mind” is characterised by “the abdication of moral autonomy and independent agency in favour either of some unreflective collective allegiance or of some inevitably partial and personal impulse for illicit satisfaction.” It represents not only the abandonment of moral autonomy and responsibility but also a tendency to conform to a collective ideal, thereby suppressing individual personality and uniqueness.

　　The existence and growth of a servile mentality should not come as a surprise, as it has been a latent issue since the development of the modern world and its individualist disposition. Michael Oakeshott observed that two distinct types of individuals emerged from the advent of the modern world: the individualist and the individual manqué.” The latter is a person unable to embrace genuine individualism, instead relying on the collective purpose of the state or a collective ideal to provide a meaningful sense of direction. This individual, Oakeshott argued, is ”intolerant not only of superiority but of difference, disposed to allow in others only a replica of himself and united with his fellows in revulsion from distinctions.” The inability to embrace individualism, coupled with intolerance, makes the individual manqué particularly vulnerable to ideological influences. Oakeshott notes, however, that the existence of the individual manqué, and the problems associated with it, are inevitable features of modern life; the real concern lies in the increasing number of such individuals.

　　Zeal for modernisation in Britain’s political landscape risks erasing the very practices and institutions that define its unique identity, vitality, and richness.

　　Oakeshott does not offer a satisfactory explanation for the increasing number of anti-individual human beings. Minogue, however, provides clarity on this point by arguing that the servile mind (or individual manqué) arises and grows primarily from a “politico-moral” ideology—an all-consuming commitment to achieving social justice and eliminating perceived oppression. Ideologues moralise about societal ills to justify government intervention in nearly every aspect of human conduct. Additionally, the servile mind exhibits paradoxical behaviour; while seeking “liberation” from authority by rejecting practices and institutions such as marriage, the church, and the family—viewing these as sources of oppression—the servile individual paradoxically embraces governmental authority.

　　The passion for modernisation is merely a symptom of the increasing prevalence of servile minds across the West. This is evident in the modernising zeal gripping the Left in Britain, which often manifests as a tasteless imitation of what is believed to have worked well elsewhere in the world. This imitation risks sweeping away what is deemed “archaic” within Britain’s parliamentary system—elements perceived as obstacles to an idealised vision of perfection. The proponents of modernisation seem to have given little thought to the fact that what they consider “archaic”—institutions, procedures, ceremonies, and practices—have shaped the culture of debate, interaction, and dialogue between the Government and Opposition, helping to preserve Britain as a free country. The modernisers risk simply sweeping away what makes Britain’s Parliament, particularly the House of Commons, distinctive—its individuality, personality, and uniqueness—for the sake of sacrificing it in favour of a servile mentality that seeks to be like everyone else.

　　Moreover, the modernising reforms threaten to undermine the British constitution by undoing its careful balances. This history of British politics can be interpreted as a conflict between two perspectives on the constitution; the first perspective is that of a balanced constitution, in which a system of checks and balances exists between the executive, legislative, and judicial powers. This system, within Britain’s unwritten constitution, is inherent in the procedures, practices, conventions, and institutions that underpin Britain’s parliamentary democracy. The second perspective, which has become dominant even within many conservative circles, views the elected chamber, the House of Commons, as having absolute control over the government. While this view may have been tenable in earlier times, before the advent of mass politics and large electorates, it now poses a risk by enabling a largely unchecked executive—an alarming prospect for the preservation of a civil association. As Elie Kedourie argues, “It is through this development that the euthanasia of the British constitution has become a well-nigh accomplished fact.”

　　The dominance of this view of parliamentary supremacy highlights the critical need to preserve the procedures, practices, and even physical features that sustain the adversarial nature of the House of Commons. The confrontational style is a hallmark of British parliamentary tradition and the Westminster model of government. It is through this adversarial process that a semblance of checks and balances is maintained over the executive, even when faced with a government as dominant as the current Starmer administration, which commands a current working majority of 165 seats. Should the features that underpin this confrontational style be removed, an already powerful executive could wield state power unchecked, pursuing its own agendas without sufficient scrutiny.

　　While these practices, procedures, and institutions are crucial conditions for freedom, enabling individual liberty to flourish in Britain, a more fundamental value persists: the question of identity. For modernisers, the worth of this inheritance is ultimately assessed by its utility in advancing their ideological agenda; should these practices obstruct their project, they seek to dismantle them. They would subsume individuality and the individualist disposition under a collective ideal or allegiance, using servile minds as the means to realise their perfectionist vision. Nevertheless, the intrinsic value of this inheritance lies in its encapsulation of Britain’s concrete identity. This is why such an “archaic” inheritance should not be lightly challenged or modernised, for it reveals who we truly are as a society and individuals through our choices and interactions with it. Modernisers, who often rely on abstractions, care little for this inheritance.

　　Zeal for modernisation in Britain’s political landscape may appear to be a progressive step towards a more efficient and contemporary democracy, but it risks erasing the very practices and institutions that define its unique identity, vitality, and richness. The fervent push to overhaul the House of Commons and other established institutions, driven by a veneer of modernisation zeal, may obscure a deeper, more troubling trend: the rise of a servile mentality that prioritises ideological conformity over individual liberty and practices. Roger Scruton observed, “It is far easier to destroy institutions than to create them.” As Britain contends with these modernising impulses, Scruton’s words serve as prudent advice. Preserving the integrity of parliamentary practices is not merely about resisting change for its own sake but about safeguarding the core values and historical continuity that have shaped the nation’s character.