The new Prime Minister claims to love driving – but he may be about to target motorists

Nestled somewhere in the new Prime Minister’s in-tray at Downing Street is a Labour Party pledge that would reverse Rishi Sunak’s decision to delay the ban on the sale of new diesel and petrol vehicles to 2035.

Last September, Rishi Sunak announced that his “new approach to achieving net zero” would include a five-year stay of execution for internal combustion engine (ICE) cars and vans, allowing electric car charging infrastructure to be rolled out properly across the country.

Prime Minister Starmer’s retort is that his commitment to the original 2030 cut-off would provide much-needed certainty to car manufacturers, whose model planning demands stability – despite some of them announcing they could leave the UK if the 2030 deadline was reimposed by a Labour government.

Last month, Peugeot and Vauxhall’s owner Stellantis stated that the “stupid” change would damage its UK operations. Group executive, Maria Grazia Davino, said the firm, which also owns the Citroen and Jeep brands, might be forced to shut plants at Luton and Ellesmere Port with thousands of job losses.

If manufacturers are unclear about the future of EVs in the UK, you can forgive drivers for being completely bamboozled. Is their ICE vehicle about to plummet in value, should they wait for more affordable EV prices before committing to battery power – and what about petrol/electric hybrids?

In the September announcement, Sunak’s government didn’t clarify whether hybrid cars would be available for a further five years from the extended 2035 deadline, as originally planned with the 2030 mandate. The latest Labour pledge is equally vague about when the axe will fall.

With motoring organisations such as the RAC and trade body the Society of Motor Manufacturers and Traders (SMMT) also concerned about the affordability of EVs, the new Prime Minister faces a car conundrum, not helped by his professed love of driving.

During a campaign visit to Grimsby last month, Sir Starmer admitted driving was in his blood from a young age. He told reporters: “Growing up, getting a car was the single most important thing in my life. It’s what I saved for when I was a teenager; it was my first and proudest purchase. I wouldn’t say petrolhead, but I’ve always loved driving.”

How much? Roughly 20 years ago, before he married his lawyer wife, Victoria, Sir Keir was a human rights advisor to the Northern Ireland Policing Board. On one memorable occasion, through a distant connection, he came to visit my home in County Down. 

As supper bubbled on a Rayburn, talk inevitably turned to cars. Before long, I found myself in the garage, seated beside the newly-appointed Queen’s Counsel who had climbed inside my Jaguar E-Type. The Series 1 coupé dated back to 1962 – the same vintage as Sir Keir himself.

As we peered down that iconic bonnet and sipped cold beers, Sir Keir cooed about the curvaceous, aerodynamic styling of the Jag, created by aircraft engineer and designer Malcolm Sayer. Such was his enthusiasm for the compelling shape that I suggested he might want to buy one now before prices shot up (which a few years later they duly did, but only after I’d sold my own car). 

The future PM’s response was typically considered, if a little unexpected. “I’d love to but all my spare money is donated to my parents’s donkey sanctuary.”

The future Labour leader had purchased a plot of land in Surrey in the 1990s for his parents to look after neglected donkeys. After they died, Sir Keir then sold the land for around £400,000 in 2022 – more than enough to buy his dream motor.

Instead, like many of us, Sir Keir recently revealed that most of his cars have been more sedate affairs. His first motor was a black Morris Minor that cost £125 but fell apart pretty quickly. 

That was followed by a dark green, C-registered Morris Oxford Traveller. The half-timbered classic ferried him from home in Surrey to Leeds University, where he studied law. The car started with a crank handle and was nicknamed “The Hedge” – no reflection on the new PM’s ability to sit on the fence when asked about some future policies, but because moss grew from the woodwork.

Until today, when the PM will likely find himself chauffeured to Downing Street aboard an armoured Audi or Jaguar, the Labour leader drove around the capital in a fourth generation Toyota RAV4 hybrid. 

In 2020, Sir Keir was contacted by police after his Toyota was in collision with a Deliveroo cyclist, leaving a deep scratch in the front wing of the SUV. Like Rishi’s designer “sliders”, his purchase choice is unlikely to do much for Toyota sales either.

However, if the ban on ICE vehicles is to be brought forward, the PM may want to consider an all-electric SUV to support Labour policy. JLR has yet to launch an electric Range Rover but the new Mercedes G-Class features a motor on each wheel, allowing it to spin on the spot and execute the perfect U-turn.

Memorable leaders’ cars

Prime Ministers may be first among equals but their choice of car has never been that inspiring. Here’s our pick of some memorable Downing Street drives.

Sir Winston Churchill – Humber Pullman

Sir Winston was rarely seen in public without a cigar, so his understated Humber limousine was installed with an extra-large ashtray. His 1954 state car was one of the last and featured a push-button radio, a luxury at the time.

Sir Harold Wilson – Vanden Plas Princess

The Labour leader’s 1967 saloon was equipped with a modified gearbox, to allow him to make a fast getaway in an emergency. The car was also specified with rear picnic tables, rear safety belts and wing mirrors.

Margaret Thatcher – Austin Maestro

Although the lady wasn’t for turning, she once swapped her official Jaguar XJ for a humble Maestro. The Iron Lady took the hatchback for a test drive – even though her press secretary, Sir Bernard Ingham, was horrified that the test car was painted red.

Boris Johnson – Toyota Previa

Johnson’s family-friendly Previa dated back to 1995 and had room for up to eight people. The former PM’s battle bus was notoriously untidy, with limited hair room on the back bench.