Government communications as a guardian of public trust

Foreword by the Institute for Government 

Five years ago the Institute commissioned a guest paper by Lee Cain to reflect on his time as director of communications in Boris Johnson’s No.10. Today the context is, of course, markedly different: the pandemic has receded as the number one comms issue for the government to grip, while there is a different party at the helm. But the issue of how government communicates with the public is as important as ever. 

To follow up on our work in this area we have invited Steph Driver, who worked in communication roles under Keir Starmer both in opposition and government – including as No.10 director of communications – to explore how the media ecosystem has evolved, and how government can tackle the problem of historically low public trust.

Introduction 

UK politics has experienced another seismic shift as we get our seventh prime minister in a decade. Among the resulting analyses is broad agreement that turbulent politics is anchored in persistent low levels of public trust. What isn’t settled is why the 2024 leadership couldn’t secure it. One assertion is that the Labour administration did not communicate adequately. 

Changing the prime minister to seek better communication is both surface level, and profound. Improved communication will not solve the public trust deficit wholesale, but it is right that poor communication can inadvertently fuel it. Get it right, and government communications can be a steward of public trust. 

The question then becomes how. Calls for radical modernisation of government comms are often change for change’s sake and come at the expense of addressing poor policy design and poor leadership. The focus for comms should instead be on ‘systemic fitness’ – allowing government communications to work with agility, stability and reliability – not total disruption. 

Systemic fitness among fragmentation 

The Labour comms team played a significant role in taking a relatively limited profile MP to winning the third largest majority in modern political history, in just four years. We engaged with the mainstream press from left to right, and employed innovative new tactics, including through alternative platforms. We were everywhere, flooding the zone, knowing our audience were consuming all sorts of media and information from a huge range of channels and outlets, everyday. 

Moving from campaigning to governing demanded recalibration. Delivering prime ministerial comms comes with heightened expectations and hurdles – and directing a Whitehall machine is a different task entirely. But the challenge was in many ways the same. It has three parts.

• First, wrestling with the attention economy. Politicians are competing to be heard in a noisy, saturated, fractured market, with everyday lives getting faster and more pressured.
• Second, navigating algorithmic hostility. Social media platforms default to outrage and anger, with no motivation to feed the counterfactuals. 
• Third, the credibility gap. Low trust is also a structural issue for communications. A credible spokesperson delivering a message through a credible channel is no longer exempt from scepticism at best, and misinformation and falsified reporting at worst. 

Navigating these trends demands agility, not overhaul. Modern political comms has to be everywhere all at once, not reinvented. Systemic fitness is the whole of Whitehall playing their part.

Evaluating progress since 2021 

Lee Cain’s 2021 paper critiquing the Government Communication Service (GCS) rightly acknowledged that political communications has shifted toward managing fast technological change. He argued the answer was increased centralised control and reduced headcount. 

By the time Labour came into office in 2024, it was clear that we had inherited a system open to change, but lagging in action. Departmental silos persisted throughout a sprawling communications function across over 7,000 press staff. Arm’s-length bodies’ comms sat in departments actively briefing the opposite of the department staff. Hierarchy and job titles trumped ideas and willingness to roll up sleeves. 

Coming from a tight and sharp opposition campaigning operation, we naturally looked to replicate our previously successful structures. That meant tight central control of a ‘hub and spoke’ model, running a purposefully slim, efficient team. 

Where there had been advances within the GCS was through greater emphasis on digital and visual media – but it wasn’t translating fast enough into coherent and persuasive output. We created the New Media Unit to hire the skill sets needed and ensure properly targeted digital campaigns and content. 

We inherited an agreement for a new permanent secretary role to lead the GCS. Empowering the service by increasing the seniority of its leadership is seemingly positive, but the results of these two large structural changes can only be assessed in longer time. 

My argument is that the answer to the three strands of our challenge cannot always be large structural change. In fact, to keep redrawing the map is the quickest way to strangle openness to change, dent morale and, ultimately, stop comms fulfilling its role as a guardian of public trust.

How to improve government communications 

During my time as No.10 director of communications I was inspired daily by the tenacity and talent of civil service press officers, from leaders to those new on the job. The creativity, motivation and intelligence of the team that supported me moved the dial daily, and I will forever be grateful. And as I say above the baby does not need throwing out with the bathwater: as such, my recommendations for change are purposefully succinct. 

Re-legitimising legacy media 

Government communications should reject the false choice between engaging with legacy media and digital strategies. In an era where people are glued to their tablets and phones, politicians and governments need to be constantly communicating through every medium available.

UK politicians are coming around to the fact they need to invest in digital comms, whether it be content creation or straight-to-viewer videos (which have been chronically underused). The slow adoption is because of an old way of thinking and the best political operations have updated their teams accordingly. 

But too often that argument becomes an either/or with legacy media. This is born of exasperation with the intense scrutiny of the press, and wishful thinking that it can be bypassed through Instagram. It’s the same instinct that treats every bad news cycle or contested story as an argument for greater press regulation. Both options are misguided. 

Reducing face time, whether through lobby briefings or submission for interview, is short sighted folly – for backbench MPs as much as the prime minister. This engagement has two-way value, stress testing arguments, sourcing opportunities to collaborate, occupying the pitch ahead of opponents, and outwardly showing confidence in your programme and plan. 

None of this is to say working with lobby is easy. But working with them, not against them, is part of a responsible government’s commitment to the public. 

Legacy media’s scepticism about power can feel oppressive, but understanding its roots enables it to be shaped and used fruitfully in countering low public trust. The postwar consensus that politics and press were united in protection of the state was broken on the back of scandals such as parliament being misled over Suez, and the Profumo Affair in the 1950s and ’60s respectively. 

Prior to that period, the press didn’t touch politicians’ private lives. They led with official government releases, and journalists viewed themselves as having a respectful role in the running of the state. 

These events fundamentally changed the tone, style and aims of political journalism. In broadcast, Robin Day became known for adversarial interviews, no longer asking what the politician wanted to say, but asking why they weren’t saying everything else. In print, Private Eye was born. MPs’ unquestioned authority was over. 

Fast forward to the 2020s and the relationship between the centre of government and journalists was further broken. Lies from the very top of the Johnson administration compounded not just the public’s lack of faith, but the parliamentary lobby’s too. The prime minister’s spokesperson at the time formally apologised to the lobby for presenting falsehoods as facts, further solidifying the death of the ‘government denial’. 

Trust between politicians and the press is as fundamental to democracy now as it was in the postwar period – as it is fundamental to addressing the public’s lack of faith. Trust can sit neatly with robust accountability. Governments have a responsibility to rebuild these relationships. By working with legacy media as a route to their public, government coverage, the public and democracy benefit.

Government must step in, not away, from traditional media 

Our time in opposition paints a picture of what this can look like. One of the biggest comms challenges for the leader of the opposition is getting heard. On a busy news day, it can feel like shouting into the abyss. Blanket output wouldn’t get us anywhere; we had to work hard for every quality hit. This meant working title by title to build relationships and identify common interests, and collaborating on exclusives and projects. 

There were grumbles among the Labour movement at our perceived charming of right-wing press. We took it on the chin because to dismiss some of the most read papers in the country was short sighted at best, and at worst meant actively disregarding the opinions of some eight million Brits a day. We considered this ignorant and unsustainable. Our approach paid off, perhaps no more clearly than by winning The Sun’s backing at the election. 

Similarly, in pursuit of all valid channels to reach people where they are, in opposition we embraced and found value in trade and specialist media to secure clean, positive coverage. We were chasing down every vote and it was silly to dismiss the readership of tens of thousands. 

In government, the collaborative approach meant we could evolve our digital comms alongside the press. Legacy platforms are rapidly developing their own digital output, and it was and is an opportunity to be seized. It’s a misjudgment to believe they are stuck in the dark ages. 

In short, the media needs managing as an active and valuable stakeholder. They are a critical audience on the path to the public. It is the responsibility of politicians to expose their policies and decisions to robust scrutiny, to have claims properly challenged and tested. 

Blaming the press for communication failures is an admission of one’s own. Journalists are a permanent fixture of the democratic ecosystem: as the media landscape evolves, government comms should step in to all of it, not step away from scrutiny.

The limits of influencers 

The influencer strategy devised by the No.10 digital team of 2024 is savvy and smart. It speaks to a political team that was open to necessary evolution, and understanding the world as it is. 

But while it is right to engage with influencers, who reach a different audience, treating them as media stakeholders – on an equal footing as established news organisations and journalists – is a mistake. In doing so, politicians are trading long-term systemic accountability for short-term vanity metrics. They are undermining governing authority with the lobby, and limiting scope for improving public trust. Instead, influencers should be treated as targeted distribution channels for specific issues or campaigns.

When trust is strong, the lobby is fuelled by accountability. Its historical memory enables it to perform an important role for democracy. Comparatively, influencers are fuelled by securing algorithmic attention and personal brand preservation. 

Equalising lobby access with individuals whose sole aim is to monetise their content lowers the value of No.10’s communications. Access should result in rigorous scrutiny, not lifestyle content. There is a reason footballers prioritise their personal and club channels rather than submit to regular press conferences. They can legitimately avoid scrutiny because they answer to their club and corporate sponsors. The government can’t because they answer to the public. 

Reaching the public through digital platforms owned by the creators can’t be allowed to replace the two-way value of forensic discussion anchored in readers’ or viewers’ lives. The role of comms in restoring public trust is to enable politicians to show confidence in their arguments under pressure. Influencers provide none of it.

GCS and special advisers as one team 

The current system produces a clash between the GCS mission to explain, and the special advisers (spad) mission to persuade. The result is reduced external impact, internal noise, misdirection of resources and a dent in collaboration. None of these outcomes is conducive to re-establishing public trust in politics. 

On entering government as a special advisor team, we attended an all-staff No.10 meeting at which it was said ‘thank you for the welcome to your house’. From day one, there was a line drawn between the political team and officials, and worse still, that line was ill defined. 

In the name of civil service political neutrality, we were told if we wanted to refer to the Labour manifesto it would need to be written or delivered by a spad. This is despite it being the policy programme the country had voted for and the very document our joint work was based on. 

If we wanted to assert a fact about the previous administration’s record, we would need to take it on ourselves, even if indisputable. When we had success, it had to be the government’s success, not the Labour government’s, even though the decision making was informed by the country’s ask for Labour to govern. 

The No.10 press office is a pragmatic, reasonable and amenable group. When these rules were questioned, they understood why, that is, that like spads, they are paid by the state to deliver what the public had voted for. It is the rules that are impractical, and, when compliance with civil service rules and the code of conduct are in part what determine personal progression, it is fair to not deviate, and unfair to be asked to. 

However the result is, somewhat ironically, to place an effective gag on the 7,000 or so civil service press officers employed to tell the government’s story to the public, with several problems arising from it, such as:

• undercooked policy development – because civil service comms don’t fully contribute to answering the question of what we are trying to achieve, and why.
• cultural nervousness – about where the line is, disincentivising innovation and hindering productivity. Talented civil service press officers would regularly come to see me whispering their often brilliant idea because they were nervous it would be perceived as them crossing the line.
• omitting ‘the government line’ – if the government’s reasoning for decisions is not explained, reporters won’t be able to reflect it in write ups.
• facts and policy become currency – not debate, argument and persuasion.
• comms spads lack backing – by what is supposed to be their own team.
• underplaying assets – such as sprawling powerful data sets held across Whitehall, because the patterns within them might be a celebration of the government moving the dial on an important issue and it isn’t seen as a civil service task to promote wins. 

But worst of all it is contributing to diminished trust. And against this backdrop, there is an imperative for all parts of government to speak as one voice, to take on criticism, to explain and persuade. This crisis of faith is a foundational crack in our politics and demands an urgent revisiting of traditional boundaries. 

Imagine the alternative. Several thousand persuasive storytellers, not just a few hundred. The public hearing loud and clear what their government is doing, properly informed when making up their minds. A rebuilt trust between press, media and government because journalists get debate, argument and reasoning, not just an email with a list of facts. Motivated talent employed by the state, advancing the state. 

Civil service neutrality can be married with the strong storytelling necessary for this political and media age. Neutrality does not have to mean invisibility. The rules need revisiting.

The headcount distraction 

Debate about reforms of the civil service almost inevitably involves staffing numbers. This obscures the genuine issues: skill strength, clarity of aim, and agile resource allocation. Like any large corporate or organisation, there may well be room for some efficiencies somewhere, but to make headcount part of the diagnosis is distraction. 

The issue is that staff aren’t empowered to confidently go and sell the government story, as explained above. A repercussion is that there is an abject failure to upskill departmental press officers not just sufficiently for an evolving landscape, but to ensure the basics of communications are constantly sharpened and tested. On top of this is an habitual shuffling round of resources based purely on which box needs to be ticked for promotion, not based on what an agile organisation would define as business need. 

Another cultural habit ingrained in both political and civil service staffing, is a propensity to revisit the narrative and messaging when anything goes wrong. This manifests as a top-heavy operation, with too many people badged as ‘strategic comms’, and an unconscious message that high quality media relations is not vital nor valued. A leaner department is of no value if it’s all strategic thinkers, not a skilled team of doers with the relationships to manage the news cycle. 

The question should be not how many comms staff does GCS have, but what are they doing each day. A large and dedicated team facing outward to the country, spending their days reaching the public, explaining and persuading, would improve public trust.

Communication through the workforce 

Any big organisation will be able to find grumbles about how plans are communicated among staff. But in government, the implications are deep and damaging. Communicating across the workforce with clarity and precision is a foundation of external message control. 

Making sure staff are clear about aims and decisions taken is an enormously undervalued tool for ensuring effective external comms, stability of message and morale. I purposefully don’t refer to this as ‘internal comms’, a corporate sounding label that risks the exercise becoming about ticking a box, not securing productivity. 

Too often I saw a lack of internal clarity risking, or in some cases, damaging, external credibility. One now notorious example from early in this Labour government is the argument for cuts to the winter fuel allowance. One part of the building believed it was a cost saving measure, the other that it was about injecting fairness into the system. 

There are two necessary remedies. First is to empower civil service comms teams to be part of story development and delivery. Second is to have the headcount required. Get it right and decisions become more effectively stress tested, and staff become confident ambassadors of government activity. If everyone, from senior ministers to special advisors and civil servants across the system are well briefed on what has been decided and why, and what it means, the whole system will face one direction and the public will have better clarity about what their government is doing for them. 

An additional benefit of cultivating an environment where everyone is an ambassador of the political programme, will be reduced leaking and unsanctioned briefing across Whitehall. Leaking has become a stubborn infection in our system. It costs time and resources, fuels internal mistrust, and undermines public trust when they see persistent fudgy denials or no comments in reporting.

The case for the grid 

The 24-hour news cycle demands an agile approach to structures and processes. However, recent criticism is too tempted by the whisperings of overhaul. The grid is a case in point. Peter Hyman, a respected former colleague and advisor to both Starmer and Blair, argues the No.10 grid is “strangling effective communication” and needs starting again. I disagree. 

Sequencing is an aid to navigate the attention economy, not a hindrance. It enables the discipline of repetition, and acts as an anchor to avoid short-term tactical temptation. It has been adapted significantly in the last two years to now accommodate digital campaigns run by the New Media Unit and owned channels. With the grid as a drumbeat organising tool, there are two linked and recommended changes. 

First, a move away from an habitual ‘announce and defend’ approach to more of a ‘discuss and decide’ method. In opposition the hurdles to getting hold of the mic necessitates the former. Go big, prepare for pushback and attack, double down and argue your case – all in quick succession, most commonly one news cycle. 

However, we quickly learned in government that the public are far more sophisticated consumers of political argument than they are generally given credit for. They want to see confidence and to be persuaded. Low trust means announcements out of the blue, delivering stubbornly through the morning round, is too often falling on deaf ears. To secure public buy-in for policies and decisions, government communications should show more of the sausage being made. 

This does not mean governing by consultation and review. The public elect the government to make decisions, and strength and trust stem from demonstrating they can. But it means an openness to discussion, to secure emotional connection and depth of understanding. 

A good example is the social media ban for under 16s. The prime minister’s speech on this announcement was a departure from his usual style. He set out what it was, acknowledged the steps taken to get there, the hurdles still to clear, that the policy would be imperfect at first but that the end goal is clear. He was also able to explain the policy as complementing multiple existing policies. 

Critique was absorbed, an argument was made, buy-in was gained. The grid provides confidence for these moments, ensuring adequate planning, space either side, and repetition and coherence in subsequent activity. 

Second, beyond the central grid there needs to be an extension out to ‘micro grids’ that empower departments. On coming into government I was firmly of the view that command and control from the centre was the only way to maintain message discipline. My thinking evolved when faced with the reality of government comms in an age of extreme audience fragmentation. 

The centre can no longer simply turn the tap on at the top and deliver the message. Instead, it has to be delivered through a network of campaign-like micro grids, run by departmental leads, with a focus on their defined stakeholders, and disseminated by dedicated issue-based storytellers. 

A micro grid structure brings focus and resilience, helping to avoid being knocked off course by big events. It allows for challenges and crises to be contained, boosting stability. It also reflects the splintered nature of the attention economy, the atomisation of people’s lives, and the way they consume information. It moves communications infrastructure toward the public. 

Labour recognised in opposition that authority emerges from diverse networks. It has at its cultural heart, a partnership model of governance, a belief that by working with civil society, the country can move forward. By applying the same approach to Whitehall comms, output can be authoritative, persuasive and trust building.

Conclusion 

In this era of instability, rapid change and shock culture, leaning into disruption is easily mistaken for the antidote. It’s true that the media landscape has changed extensively, and that the system isn’t keeping up. It’s also true that the fundamental need for authority and clarity of message is stronger than ever. 

Overhaul is not the answer. We should navigate challenges with agility, not start again. We should do everything, be everywhere and do so with confidence, to inspire confidence among the public. 

This set of proposals would maximise the assets within the system. They would harness the duty, stability and institutional memory of the civil service, and switch on thousands of storytellers to face the public. They will allow the government to become the confident narrator of its own story. 

By evolving, GCS can play a greater role in rebuilding faith in UK politics. Comms can no longer be simply a messenger: it must become a guardian of public trust.