THE formula that has traditionally delivered Labour victories is clear — unite working- and middle-class voters behind a progressive vision rooted in hope and a better future.

That coalition, built over generations, allowed Labour to win across the country, from cities and university towns to industrial communities.

But in 2024, that formula broke down. The so-called “loveless landslide” built on a Tory collapse, brought Labour to power on just 33.7 per cent of the vote, half a million fewer than in 2019 and three million fewer than in 2017.

The apathy that carried Labour into office has not acted as an electoral floor but as a trapdoor. At the most recent local elections, only 33 per cent of those who voted Labour in 2024 stayed with the party.

Votes bled away in every direction, yet while most went to nominally progressive parties, the scale of disengagement, people choosing to stay at home altogether, was striking.

Responsibility for this collapse lies squarely with the Prime Minister and the narrow clique that has driven the party to this position. Reform has been the clearest beneficiary, sweeping through former Labour heartlands.

Across Tyne and Wear alone, Labour lost 166 seats and was reduced to single figures of councillors in some authorities. These are not marginal setbacks, they are warnings of existential threat.

There has been the predictable clamour to shift position to outflank competitors. A debate is both inevitable and necessary. But we must be honest about the scale of the problem.

Simply chasing other parties, mimicking their policies, or adjusting our rhetoric in response to short-term pressures will not rebuild trust. People do not abandon a party in such numbers because of tactical disagreements; they do so because they no longer believe it stands for them.

For more than a century, Labour’s strength lay in its ability to hold together a broad and diverse coalition built on a simple promise: to raise living standards and improve the lives of ordinary people. That promise has been eroded.

Years of Conservative austerity hollowed out communities, while Labour’s own fixation on appearing “responsible” in the eyes of big business has left many unable to see how their lives will improve.

When politics ceases to offer hope, disengagement and anger fills the vacuum.

Instead of delivering the meaningful change promised in 2024, this leadership has taken decisions that have undermined trust still further. The decision to cut the Winter Fuel Allowance stands out as a profound political error, not only for its immediate impact but for what it symbolised, a willingness to balance the books on the backs of the elderly.

Likewise, rather than reducing welfare spending through the creation of secure jobs in held back parts of Britain, disabled people have been targeted for cuts. And instead of addressing migration through safe and fair routes, the government has too often echoed the language and framing of Reform.

At the same time, public debate has been dragged into divisive cultural arguments while the fundamentals of daily life have continued to deteriorate.

It is little surprise that voters have sought alternatives. The failure to articulate a positive vision of the future and to back it with policies that people can feel making a difference rests ultimately with the Prime Minister.

Yet despite this, he and his allies continue to argue that his leadership is indispensable. That position is increasingly untenable. If Labour is serious about delivering the change the country demands and halting the rise of the far right, it cannot simply carry on as before.

The emergence of Andy Burnham as a potential candidate should therefore be welcomed. But it should not be treated as a foregone conclusion. Makerfield will become more than just a by-election; it will be a test of Labour’s purpose.

Like Blyth and Ashington, it represents the kind of place that once formed the bedrock of Labour support. Communities shaped by industry, left behind by globalisation, and now targeted by Reform’s politics of division.

Burnham’s pitch to Makerfield must also be a pitch to the country. It must acknowledge that politics and politicians have failed too many people, while offering a credible vision of change rooted in dignity, fairness and opportunity. It must say clearly; wherever you live, and whatever your background, you matter and your future can be brighter than your present.

The demand for change remains strong across the country. Labour’s challenge is to prove that it can deliver it not just in major cities or affluent constituencies, but in the towns and communities that have felt ignored for too long. The path back to trust runs through places like Makerfield just as surely as it does through north London.

Whatever happens next, change within the party must not be imposed from above. A genuine renewal requires open debate, broad participation and a willingness to move beyond the factionalism that has brought Labour to the brink of irrelevance in so many areas.

Ultimately, the change people want is not abstract. It is grounded in everyday life. Secure work with decent pay, strong trade union rights, affordable energy bills, good-quality housing, and the ability to raise a family without constant financial anxiety.

It is about restoring the basic promise that hard work should be rewarded with a decent standard of living and a sense of security.

If Labour can reconnect with that promise clearly it can rebuild. If not, the trapdoor that opened in 2024 will become a gaping chasm that will swallow the party whole.

Ian Lavery is Labour MP for Blyth and Ashington.