June 5, 2025 - 9:30pm

It’s a well-worn cliché that British politics follows the American version. The process is inexorable; speed is the only variable.

Shortly after Elon Musk stepped down from Doge when his 130-day clearance expired, Reform UK seized the moment to launch their own version, buoyed by recent wins in several councils and mayoralties in the local elections. In a video earlier this week, party chairman Zia Yusuf announced that Kent County Council would be the first to face an audit by a newly formed team of himself, software engineers, data analysts, and forensic accountants tasked with inspecting local government operations.

But Yusuf did not last 130 days; he did not even last 130 hours. Earlier today it was announced that he had been “sidelined” into the party’s Doge programme full-time amid a row with newly-elected MP Sarah Pochin, whom he branded “dumb” for using her first appearance at Prime Minister’s Questions to demand a ban on burqas. Just a few hours later, he announced on X that working to get the party elected was “no longer a good use of my time”. It appears that he had been unhappy for some time at having his “wings clipped”, and that for Yusuf — a Muslim — the burqa ban row was the final straw.

The Doge initiative, for all its early promise, has already succumbed to internal squabbles and fragile egos, which is a microcosm of Reform’s broader dilemma. The party still has a long road ahead if it hopes to be taken seriously. In the wake of Nigel Farage’s political career lies a trail of abandoned allies and promising figures. Just in the past year, Reform has jettisoned Rupert Lowe — with Yusuf playing a key role in his ousting — and Ben Habib. While Yusuf’s own departure appears to have provoked more anger than regret, it underscores a deeper issue: even within its small ranks, Reform is struggling to retain talent.

One of the biggest challenges Reform faces is developing a serious policy platform that can translate populist energy into a practical political project. Though the party has proven adept at capitalising on public anger, it lacks the policy discipline and internal coherence needed to turn that momentum into a credible programme for government. Nature, abhorring a vacuum, has filled the gap with factionalism and internal tension.

At the heart of this problem is what may be Nigel Farage’s greatest weakness: an unwillingness or inability to promote and delegate to capable people. A credible policy offering remains the key barrier to Reform becoming a government-in-waiting, but building one will require expanding beyond its narrow leadership circle. Despite claiming over 300,000 members, the party relies heavily on just two recognisable figures — Farage and his deputy, Richard Tice — revealing a lack of both intellectual and organisational depth.

Farage seems increasingly content to surround himself with hangers-on and stunt candidates. The rumoured recruitment of C-list celebrities — such as Love Island contestant Ollie Williams, boxer Derek Chisora and ex-SAS TV presenter Ant Middleton — suggests Reform is veering toward spectacle rather than substance.

Reform may have cracked the code for capturing disillusioned voters, but until it figures out how to turn that into a functioning political machine, it will be what it always has been: a protest movement with a party logo.