Cabinet reshuffles can leave the government refreshed, or nursing a major headache

Reshuffle day is always a moment of high excitement for the press corps of Westminster, and never more so than when something goes wrong.

In theory, it is the moment of maximum power for the prime minister. He is able to exercise patronage to promote favourites, get rid of nuisances and fine-tune the direction and style of the government.

In reality, good old-fashioned egos and ambitions often get in the way and it is relatively rare for the plan confidently finalised by No 10 on the eve of the reshuffle to survive in that shape to the end of the day.

A shock on the scale of Sajid Javid’s resignation has not been seen for decades, but he is not the first cabinet minister to politely but firmly say no to the prime minister’s plans.

Jeremy Hunt refused to move from the health department to business in 2018 and ended up with an expanded brief including social care. Justine Greening quit rather than accept Theresa May’s order to move to another department.

All of these dramas happen behind closed doors, of course – usually in the PM’s office in the Commons for dismissals and in 10 Downing Street for the appointments.

But they can’t stay behind closed doors for long, and often sackings and resignations are followed by a battle between No 10 and former ministers for control of the narrative about how they went. Any stray statements to the cameras, tweets and resignation letters are pored over for clues to the tensions which lead to ministers’ rise and fall.

As MPs walk up the street and past the TV cameras to hear their fate, they are closely scrutinised by the Kremlinologists of the lobby. Are they smiling? Do they look grim? What does the sequence of their arrival at No 10 say about who is likely to be up and who down?

Frenzied mobile calls and text messages are exchanged with special advisers, who often have little more idea than the press as to what the prime minister has in mind for their bosses – and who are themselves on tenterhooks over whether they will lose their jobs as their minister departs.

Generally, ministers are in and out of the door within half an hour or so, beaming broadly but saying nothing. Their new title is announced either through a tweet from the No 10 account or an email with the quaintly formal wording that “the Queen has been graciously pleased to approve” so-and-so’s appointment. And then speculation about the appointment is rapidly replaced by speculation about what the new minister will do.

It is when there are delays that things get really exciting.

If a minister disappears into the bowels of Downing Street and doesn’t emerge swiftly, rumours spread like wildfire around the lobby. If the meeting is dragging on, what can it mean? Differences about a new role? A furious row? A sacking? A resignation?

Within minutes, the PM’s best-laid plans – in this case to signal a government moving from the dramas of Brexit to the delivery of change in the domestic arena – are in disarray. The story is now about the split, and everyone hits the phones to uncover the real reasons behind the drama and the implications for the future of the government.

A good reshuffle can refresh a government and reset its course. A bad one can throw it seriously off course, undermining the PM’s authority and creating dangerous new enemies on the backbenches. And sometimes what looks like a good one as morning breaks can go horribly wrong before the end of the day.

Yours,

Andrew Woodcock

Political editor