Bulldozing Local Representation for Centralised Power?
In the latest act of political vandalism dressed up as “progress,” the Labour Party has unveiled its grand plan for devolution. But don’t be fooled—this is no noble attempt to empower communities. Instead, it’s a cold, calculated move to strip layers of local democracy, starting with district councils. For Folkestone, Hythe, and Romney Marsh (FHDC), it’s a proposal to take 30 locally elected councillors, representing their wards and championing local causes, and toss them into the shredder.
What’s being dangled in front of us is a so-called South East Council—a Frankenstein creation merging FHDC with Ashford, Canterbury, Dover, and Thanet. The result? Your council, once populated by 30 individuals you might bump into at the shops, would be replaced by just five or six councillors representing our entire district. These “super councillors” would essentially be MPs in disguise, juggling full-time roles in a vast, impersonal bureaucracy. Gone would be the days of grassroots representation. Instead, decisions on how your council tax is spent, waste collection contracts, housing maintenance, and more would be left to a handful of distant politicians.
And that’s not all. Labour’s masterplan doesn’t stop at erasing district councils. Under the Government’s Devolution White Paper, Kent County Council (KCC) would be axed too, replaced by a single elected mayor. Labour trumpets this as the epitome of democracy—an efficient, transparent way of managing the millions of pounds funnelled into local government. They point to Andy Burnham, Mayor of Manchester, as the poster boy for this model. But here’s what they don’t mention: Joe Anderson, Liverpool’s former mayor, is currently facing allegations of bribery and corruption. Or take Sadiq Khan in London—another mayor whose controversial policies, including punitive road taxes, have stirred resentment. Apparently, if you cough up £15 to drive your car, pollution suddenly stops being deadly.
The crux of this issue is democracy. If these sweeping changes are truly what the people want, shouldn’t we have a say? A referendum, perhaps? But Westminster and County Hall appear allergic to consultation. Why ask voters when you can quietly ram through changes under the guise of progress? The timing of this devolution push is also suspect. May 1st marks the next scheduled elections for KCC, and the writing on the wall isn’t pretty. The Conservative majority, currently at 51 seats, is projected to plummet to around 10. Labour, meanwhile, is floundering in the polls, and Reform is poised to grab a significant share of the vote. Small wonder councillors are considering postponing the election altogether. Democracy, it seems, is a fair-weather friend for those in power.
Let’s take a moment to consider what’s at stake. Currently, the 30 councillors in FHDC represent a range of political stripes—Greens, Labour, Liberal Democrats, Conservatives, an Independent, and even a Reform member. This diversity reflects the rich tapestry of local opinion. Each councillor brings local knowledge and a genuine stake in their community. They’re not faceless bureaucrats—they’re your neighbours, your advocates, the people you turn to when bins aren’t collected or planning decisions threaten your neighbourhood. Under the proposed system, this would vanish. Representation would shrink, and decision-making would be centralised in the hands of a few. What happens to the unique needs of Folkestone or Romney Marsh when they’re just one small part of a sprawling South East Council? Who ensures that your voice is heard?
And let’s not pretend Labour is riding a wave of public support. Their landslide general election victory came on the back of the lowest voter turnout in 50 years—a protest vote against the status quo rather than an endorsement of their policies. Since then, they’ve managed the impressive feat of becoming the most unpopular government in a generation within just six months. According to YouGov polling, Labour’s approval ratings are in freefall. A winter of discontent looms, with strikes from railway workers and other public sector employees threatening to grind the country to a halt. The unions, who’ve kept the Labour machine ticking for 14 years, are now calling in their favours. The Labour government is floundering, yet they’ve found time to prioritise dismantling local democracy.
Meanwhile, pressing issues are being swept under the rug. Take, for example, the long-overdue inquiry into grooming gangs—a scandal that has scarred countless communities. Why the delay? Could it be that Labour MPs like Jess Phillips, who represent slim-margin constituencies with large Asian, Indian, and Bangladeshi electorates, fear the political fallout? Phillips herself won her seat by just 693 votes. For her, pushing this issue might feel a lot like turkeys voting for Christmas. Convenient, isn’t it, how tough decisions are so often postponed when they threaten to disrupt political careers?
And it’s not just Labour playing the cynical game. The Conservatives at KCC appear equally reluctant to face the music. By delaying the May election, they buy themselves time to cling to power, even as their support crumbles. But at what cost? If the elections are postponed, it’s not just democracy that suffers—it’s public trust in the entire political system.
So, what can be done? One option is a vote of no confidence in KCC. Reform, with its surging popularity, might well be the party to lead this charge. The appetite for change is palpable. People are tired of being ignored, tired of career politicians treating democracy as a personal plaything. Local representation matters. It’s not a relic of the past—it’s the foundation of a functioning society. When you strip away layers of local government, you don’t make things more efficient—you make them more distant, less accountable, and fundamentally less democratic.
The assault on democracy is real, and it’s happening right now. If we let this devolution plan proceed without challenge, we’re not just losing councillors—we’re losing our voice, our choice, and our connection to the decisions that shape our daily lives. This isn’t progress—it’s a power grab, pure and simple. The people of Folkestone, Hythe, and Romney Marsh deserve better. The question is, will we fight for it?