Rachel Reeves gave a speech yesterday that once again brought the cost of living to the fore in the national debate. Virtually all of the media commentary on the speech focused on the economic factors Reeves might be considering in the run-up to her Autumn Budget statement on 26 November. But the real – fundamental – solution to this problem lies elsewhere.
The average British household now spends nearly a fifth of its budget on keeping the lights on and keeping a roof overhead. Energy bills that were unthinkable three years ago have become grimly normal. Rents continue their remorseless climb. Meanwhile, real median incomes have fallen by 1.6 per cent since 2019–20, according to the House of Commons Library. You tighten your belt, skip the heating, buy own-brand. And you wait for the next election to cast your vote in the hope it will change things for the better.
Except it doesn’t. And that’s not a bug in the system. It’s the entire operating logic of first past the post (FPTP).
Britain’s cost-of-living crisis is usually presented as an economic problem requiring economic solutions: fiscal policy here, monetary tightening there, perhaps a windfall tax if we’re feeling bold. But sidestep the technical language and you find something more fundamental. The crisis is political by design. It persists because the people who feel it most acutely have the least say in how power is distributed. Under FPTP, millions of voters are functionally silenced – and governments know it.
Westminster’s Selective Hearing
Consider the arithmetic. Labour’s 2024 landslide delivered a commanding parliamentary majority on roughly 34 per cent of the vote. That’s not unusual under FPTP; it’s the norm. The system is engineered to translate pluralities into dominance, leaving the majority of voters – those who backed someone else, or no one at all – with representation in name only. If you live in a safe seat, your vote is a formality. If your MP’s majority is twenty thousand, your concerns can be safely filed under “inevitable background noise.”
This isn’t abstract constitutional fussing. It’s material to the lives we are able to lead. When governments can secure total control with minority support, they face no meaningful pressure to address the priorities of those outside their electoral coalition. The political market is rigged: you can win power by appealing to a sliver of swing voters in a handful of marginal constituencies, while entire regions and demographics are left on mute. As one MP candidly acknowledged in a recent Hansard debate on electoral reform, “We all know that millions of our constituents feel their votes simply do not count.”
They’re right to feel that way. Because they don’t.
The Economy of Representation
This matters enormously when it comes to the cost-of-living squeeze. Housing policy offers the clearest example. Britain’s chronic failure to build enough affordable homes isn’t an accident of market forces – it’s a political choice, or more accurately, a political evasion. Homeowners in marginal seats are disproportionately older and wealthier; renters are younger, more precarious, and more likely to live in constituencies where elections results are rarely, if ever, in question. Guess whose interests get prioritised?
The same logic applies to wages, energy policy, and taxation. When you only need to satisfy a narrow band of persuadable voters to retain power, you can afford to ignore everyone else. Lobbyists and donors understand this perfectly well, which is why they focus their efforts where accountability is weakest. The result is a Westminster monoculture: policies designed for the few, presented as inevitabilities to the many.
Most people instinctively know – and ONS data shows – that the lowest-income households spend proportionally far more on essentials – housing, fuel, and food – than the wealthiest. They’re also the least likely to live in seats that matter electorally. Connect those dots and you see the hidden architecture of inequality: a voting system that ensures the people paying the highest price have the weakest voice.
What Proportional Systems Deliver
PR would open the door to change. We have decades of comparative evidence from across the OECD showing that proportional electoral systems correlate with fairer economic outcomes. Countries using PR tend to have lower income inequality, stronger social safety nets, and more responsive public services. That’s not because PR voters are morally superior – it’s because politicians in those systems have to build broader coalitions and can’t ignore large chunks of the electorate without consequence.
In a proportional Parliament, there are no truly safe seats. Every vote contributes to the overall balance of power, which means every voter matters. Governments must negotiate, compromise, and – crucially – justify their decisions to a wider range of voices. The incentive structure shifts. Suddenly, the pensioner in Cornwall, the renter in Manchester, and the low-paid worker in Swansea all have a stake that politicians can’t dismiss.
Would PR solve the cost-of-living crisis overnight? Of course not. But it would change who gets heard when solutions are being designed. It would mean housing policy couldn’t be written exclusively for homeowners in the Home Counties. It would mean energy policy couldn’t be captured by incumbent interests while households freeze. It would mean that when you vote, someone has to listen – not because they’re feeling generous, but because the system requires it.
Economic Self-Defence
Reframing electoral reform as a kitchen-table issue isn’t a rhetorical trick. It’s recognising what’s always been true: political systems shape material outcomes. The way we elect governments determines whose problems get solved and whose get deferred indefinitely. If you’re struggling to afford rent, or you’re rationing your heating, or you’re watching your real income shrink year after year, the structure of our democracy is not a side issue. It’s central.
First past the post produces majority governments with minority consent, which means those governments can ignore the majority with impunity. That’s not a sustainable basis for a functioning democracy, and it’s certainly not a route to a fairer economy. Every time we accept this as inevitable – as just “the way things are” – we’re choosing to let those who benefit from the status quo keep their hands on the controls.
The solution isn’t complicated. An independent National Commission on Electoral Reform could examine the evidence, drive a national debate allowing people to say how they want to be governed, and recommend a proportional system that gives every voter a voice that counts. That’s not utopian fantasy. It’s pragmatic common sense. It’s economic self-defence for working households who’ve been priced out of representation.
The cost of living is rising. The cost of votes not counting is higher still. If you can’t afford to live, you can’t afford first past the post.
This article first appeared on Ugly Politix and is reproduced by kind permission of the author.
