Boris Johnson is probably Britain’s most famous liar. He appears to have lied in every job, at every level. But this week, when discussing his U-turn on Marcus Rashford’s campaign to have England’s free school meal voucher scheme extended, the prime minister’s capacity for deception plumbed new depths. This latest lie suggests that rather than simply enjoying telling fibs, or understanding that fabrication is a useful political tool, Johnson is simply an inescapable, compulsive liar.
There is a medical term for the condition of pathological lying; it is known as mythomania – or as Johnson would doubtless prefer to call it, pseudologia fantastica – but I will avoid amateur diagnosis, and stick to the facts.
The prime minister’s catalogue of deceit is so comprehensive it’s hard to know where to start. He was sacked by the Times newspaper in 1988 for fabricating a quote from his godfather, the historian Colin Lucas, to make an assertion about Edward II and his lover Piers Gaveston. “The trouble was that somewhere in my copy I managed to attribute to Colin the view that Edward II and Piers Gaveston would have been cavorting together in the Rose Palace,” he chuntered by way of an apology. The real trouble was that Gaveston had been killed long before the palace was built.
There were his infamous tall tales in columns for the Telegraph about one-size-fits-all “eurocoffins”, an EU banana police force to monitor the correct bend in the fruit, and many more. Johnson was sacked from his positions as vice-party chairman and shadow arts minister of the Tory party in 2004 after assuring then leader Michael Howard that tabloid reports of his affair with Petronella Wyatt ware an “inverted pyramid of piffle”. They were not.
Then there are specific policy deceits – promising to eradicate street homelessness in London by 2012 (it actually doubled in his mayorship), or promising manned ticket offices at all tube stations before agreeing to widespread closures to fund 24-hour stations. Most famous of all, was the lie on the bus during the Johnson-led Brexit campaign claiming that Britain could save £350m a week by leaving the EU, to be spent instead on the NHS.
There are more recent prime ministerial porkies – such as promising to recruit 20,000 police officers when in fact leaked documents revealed that thousands were likely to be recruited away from frontline roles. And there were electioneering lies: in November he told Sky News that Jeremy Corbyn “plans to wreck the economy with a £1.2tn spending plan” – Labour’s general election manifesto hadn’t even been published at the time. And on it goes.
Just this week, after the government announced that the Department for International Development (Dfid) was being absorbed into the Foreign Office, Tory MP Andrew Mitchell said that during the party’s leadership campaign last year, Johnson “looked me in the eye and told me Dfid would be safe”. Of course, it wasn’t to be.
Most of these deceptions appeared to have a clear purpose – lying about Petronella Wyatt to protect his privacy and his job; lying about EU bureaucracy to create ripping yarns; lying about political promises to win support. Ultimately Johnson lies continually to help himself.
But on Tuesday he appeared to have taken his lying to a new, worrying level – he now seemed to be lying just for the hell of it. When commenting on the government’s latest U-turn in agreeing to provide free school meals for vulnerable kids during the summer after the footballer’s impressive campaign, the prime minister said: “I talked to Marcus Rashford today and congratulated him on his campaign which to be honest I only became aware of, recent … erm, today.”
Only the previous day Downing Street had issued a statement confirming that the school-meal voucher scheme would end when the school term ends, despite Rashford’s campaign. The prime minister’s official spokesman praised the Manchester United and England striker for “using his profile in a positive way to highlight some very important issues” before stating: “The PM understands the issues facing families across the UK, which is why last week the government announced an additional £63m for local authorities to benefit families who are struggling to afford food and other basic essentials.”
Allowing for the bizarre possibility that the PM’s official spokesman does not actually speak on his behalf, Johnson’s claim would mean that on Monday, he did not read any newspapers, listen to or watch broadcast news, or pay attention to any internal briefings on the matter. This despite the issue gaining widespread attention.
What was so alarming about this lie was its utter pointlessness. More than that, it was self-destructive. Johnson is showing himself in the worst possible light, dispelling any doubts the public may have about his propensity to lie.
As so often, Johnson’s lie was half-baked – he mumbled “recently”, before saying that he had only heard about Rashford’s campaign “today”. It was like watching a particularly bad panelist on the game show Call My Bluff. Actually, it was reminiscent of the time Johnson was asked about what he did to relax, and uhmed and ahed before eventually suggesting that he liked to turn wooden wine crates into model buses. But again that lie had some vague purpose – any self-respecting political leader needs a hobby, even if you have to dream one up on the spot.
But the Rashford lie was in a different league. What could he gain by pretending he knew nothing about the previous day’s biggest news story – one that he was at the very heart of? It didn’t simply make him look incompetent, it made him look mad.
Perhaps the most benign explanation is that the after-effects of his bout of coronavirus have damaged his short-term memory – in which case he deserves some sympathy, but he should not be leading the country at the moment. Then again, taking into account Johnson’s long track record of lies, this might be the final proof, if ever it were needed, that our prime minister can’t help himself – he lies habitually, continually, compulsively.
• Simon Hattenstone is a features writer for the Guardian