The rise of the Blob – and how Britain lost control of its own system by Denis Podany

These are the thoughts of a blue-collar worker.

For most of Britain’s history since the start of democracy, the way government worked was simple. The public elected ministers, and ministers told the civil service what to do.

That chain of command wasn’t perfect, but it was clear. It worked because everyone knew who was responsible when things slowed, failed, or went wrong.

Over the past 30 years, that clarity has slipped away. A slow, polite, well-meaning process has allowed a vast, unelected machine to grow in the background – the thing many people now call “the blob.”

And here’s the irony: it wasn’t built by radicals or revolutionaries. It was strengthened by governments, who thought they were “cleaning up politics.”

What the Blob actually is – in common-sense terms

People use the term “blob” to avoid a longer sentence, but the idea is simple enough. It’s the permanent, unelected bureaucracy: senior civil servants, quangos, regulators, arm’s-length bodies, commissions, watchdogs, and the network of agencies that don’t change when the government does.

They don’t stand for election. They don’t campaign for votes. But they draft policy, control budgets, interpret rules, and can delay or water down a minister’s plans simply by insisting on “process.” It’s quiet power – but real power.

How we ended up here – the Brown era and beyond

Gordon Brown didn’t invent the blob – but he super-charged it. Trying to look honest, modern, and “above politics,” he pushed for more independence between ministers and the day-to-day running of the state.

On paper, it sounded noble. But in practice, it meant one thing: Power shifted away from elected ministers, and into a permanent bureaucracy that voters cannot remove.

Look at what was handed more independence: the Statistics Authority, the Bank of England’s expanded remit, public appointment bodies, a flood of regulators and commissions.

Ministers were told to “respect their independence,” which quickly became “don’t interfere.” And when ministers stop interfering, someone else quietly takes the wheel. The result? A system that answers more to itself than to the people who supposedly run it.

The common-sense conclusion

Brown wanted professionalism. He got bureaucratic sovereignty.

He wanted clean government. He got a self-protecting machine.

And now Britain has a state where ministers come and go, governments rise and fall, but the internal machinery stays exactly the same – and often outlives every manifesto.

In trying to depoliticise government, Britain accidentally de-democratised parts of it. That’s the simple truth most politicians are too polite to admit.

Can Britain change it? Yes – in theory

The British constitution is still clear: Civil servants serve the Crown through ministers. Ministers can still insist on direction, discipline, and delivery. But that requires something modern Westminster often lacks: a backbone.

Over decades, the blob has grown comfortable. Every attempt to reform it is branded as “interference,” “bullying,” or “undermining independence.” Leaks appear. Projects slow. Legal arguments emerge.

Yet none of that changes the reality: Britain’s elected leaders can reassert authority – if they are prepared for the backlash.

The blue-collar truth: Top-down reform doesn’t work any more

Governments always try the same trick: committees, consultants, re-structuring charts, new logos, new slogans.

All top-down. All paper. Almost none of it reaches the ground.

Real reform – the kind that actually improves public services, cuts waste, and speeds things up – comes from one place: The people who do the work.

Foremen, supervisors, technicians, inspectors, local officers. The intelligent, experienced middle of Britain – not the theoretical top. These are the people who know which rules are pointless, which forms are duplicated, which delays are man-made, and which savings don’t require a Ph.D., just common sense and a spanner.

If government listens to them again, the machine becomes a tool. If not, the machine keeps running itself.

The simple model that could fix it

A common-sense, British, boots-on-the-ground structure could be built tomorrow:

• Field panels: Foremen and frontline staff report real problems directly.
• Regional boards rank issues by impact, not politics.
• A national reform hub: Half seasoned workers, half senior officials.
• Fast implementation teams: 90-day changes, not 9-year reviews.
• A six-month feedback loop: Keep what works, scrap what doesn’t.

That’s it. No consultants, no empire-building, no endless oversight. It restores accountability at the top and reality at the bottom – exactly how Britain used to run itself when it worked.

Why this matters now

People across the country can feel something is off. It’s not just policies failing – it’s the machinery underneath them.

You can elect whoever you like, but if the permanent system underneath refuses to move, you don’t really have government – you have drift.

Britain isn’t broken because voters chose the wrong people. Britain is stuck because the unelected machinery has become the default ruler, and nobody asked for that.

The final word

You don’t need jargon to understand what has happened. You don’t need a political science degree. You just need common sense.

The people who answer to voters should run the system. Not the people who answer to each other.

Until that balance returns, every government will struggle, and every promise will be delivered through a machine designed to slow, soften, or smother it.

The blob wasn’t chosen – it simply grew. And like any overgrown machinery, it needs trimming, tightening, and the occasional replacement part.

The question now is whether any leader can find the people, who have the nerve to pick up the spanner.

Image credit on main page: Gerd Altmann, Pixabay