I think that many of my American friends will be confused about what’s happening in the UK. Nigel Farage is being challenged by a bin.
You need to know who Nigel Farage is. He’s the man behind Brexit: a populist from the far right who’s ridden up upon a wave of outrage about the state of Britain by offering a few easy slogans as the solution. Mainly he talks about immigration. He’s a Trump ally. He was the first politician to have a face-to-face meeting with the President-Elect in 2016. Trump chose Farage, then the leader of a minor political party in the UK, above presidents and prime ministers throughout the world.
He shares some of the same rhetoric. He too claims to be against “The Establishment.” This is despite the fact that he’s the son of a stockbroker and was a commodities trader before he became a full-time politician. He went to Dulwich College, an exclusive fee-paying private school in South London. He joined the Conservative Party while he was still at school. He’s a posh Tory Boy.
He likes to be seen holding a pint of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He’s very careful with his branding. He knows that this makes him appear like “an ordinary bloke” to working class people.
There’s something of the grifter about him. He’s always chasing money. Since becoming an MP he’s registered earnings of more than £180,000 filming personalized messages for individuals through a website that specializes in cameo appearances by celebrities. He was charging from £76 for a personalised clip to £3780 for promotional services. According to The Guardian, these messages have included support for a convicted rioter, extremist slogans and the endorsement of a neo-Nazi event. He’s also referenced antisemitic conspiracy theories and made sexist remarks about congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s breasts.
He’s been a major figure in British politics for decades. He left the Conservative Party in 1992 and formed the UK Independence Party (UKIP) soon after. He was elected to the European Parliament as a UKIP MEP in 1999, where he became the co-leader of the Eurosceptic group, Europe of Freedom and Direct Democracy. He was re-elected in 2004, 2009 and 2014.
He co-founded the Brexit Party in 2018, advocating a no-deal Brexit: a clean break with the European Union without a withdrawal agreement. This would undoubtedly have caused major disruption in the British economy. Whether he planned to profit from the chaos is a matter of conjecture. As a trader, he would’ve been well-placed to know what to do.
In 2021 the Brexit Party was renamed Reform UK. It has a peculiar constitution. It’s a registered limited company. Unlike most major British political parties, which operate as unincorporated associations, Reform UK is officially registered under company law. However, it has no shareholders, Farage having renounced his majority stake in 2025.
He was elected as an MP for the Clacton constituency in 2024. He won 46.2 percent of the vote. Previously, in 2015, he’d stood as a candidate in South Thanet, not far from where I live. He was vehemently opposed by a number of anti-racist campaigners, including a friend of mine who became briefly famous after standing up in the audience during a BBC Question Time debate. She directly challenged him on immigration, calling him a “racist scumbag.” She became known as “the blue-haired woman” as a consequence. I don’t need to tell you why.
His record as an MP has been rueful. He’s rarely seen in the town. He doesn’t hold open-door surgeries, unlike most MPs, so access to him is limited. He operates invitation-only meetings at a secret office. He cites security concerns as his reason. His attendance in Parliament is also sparse. Out of 537 eligible parliamentary divisions, Farage cast just 169 votes, ranking him last among Reform UK MPs: often going multiple consecutive weeks without casting a vote. What that suggests is that he was nowhere near Parliament at the time. He made 93 debate contributions across 60 separate debates. He’s spoken fewer times than any other leader of a major British political party, focusing almost exclusively on foreign affairs, defense and international development. He uses Parliament as a means of amplifying his talking points. He’s mentioned Clacton only twice.
He’s a classic populist politician. I said earlier that he “has ridden up upon a wave of outrage about the state of Britain by offering a few easy slogans as the solution.” The outrage is real. The country’s falling apart. Nothing works properly any more. Our High Streets are boarded up. Our rivers and seas are full of shit. The NHS is being sold off. Everyone’s broke. Our energy system’s collapsing. We’re being eaten alive by corporate werewolves, hungry for our economic flesh.
The easy solution is to blame it all on immigration. People see the increasing numbers of people from different backgrounds, with foreign accents, peculiar tastes, strange clothes and unrecognizable cultures, and they make a conceptual leap: from the world they once knew, to the new alien world they see springing up all around them. The alien world’s created by those outsiders in our midst, they think. They don’t see what’s going on in the background. They don’t see the privatization of our public services. They don’t see the post-financial crisis economic system that’s diverting wealth away from the majority, and into the off-shore accounts of the financial elites. They don’t see the foreign billionaires buying up properties and making them unaffordable for local residents. They know about the wars raging in West Asia and around the world, but are unable to make the link between these and the tens of thousands of desperate people fleeing violence and poverty, seeking a better life in our country.
Recent scrutiny of Farage’s finances by the Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards over undeclared financial gifts received before the 2024 election—including a £5 million donation from cryptocurrency billionaire Christopher Harborne and separate benefits (security staff, social media teams, and luxury housing) provided by convicted fraudster George Cottrell—has seen Farage’s carefully woven political persona looking increasingly threadbare. In an effort to divert attention he resigned from his position as the Clacton MP, triggering a by-election. He’s claiming that it is all a conspiracy by “The Establishment.” It is up to the people of Clacton to judge him, he says.
Unfortunately for him all of the other mainstream political parties have refused to stand candidates, calling Farage’s campaign “a stunt.”
Which brings us to Count Binface. He’s the comedy candidate. It’s a British tradition: satirical figures standing in elections to bring attention either to themselves, or to particular issues. It started with Screaming Lord Sutch in the 1960s. He was a pop singer famed for his horror-themed stage act, anticipating later stars such as Alice Cooper. He was also a perennial parliamentary candidate, no doubt in order to boost his flagging career. In 1983 he formed the Official Monster Raving Loony Party. He served as its leader from 1983 to 1999, during which time he stood in numerous parliamentary elections. He holds the record for contesting the most elections: 39 between 1963 and 1997. He lost every single one.
Other comedy candidates have included:
- 1. Al Murray (the pub landlord) who stood against Nigel Farage in the 2015 South Thanet by-election. His manifesto promised to make £1 worth £1.10.
- 2. Mr Fishfinger: a Doncaster engineer who legally changed his name to Mr Fishfinger and ran in the 2017 general election dressed as a fish finger.
- 3. H’Angus the Monkey (Stuart Drummond). H’Angus the Monkey was the official mascot costume for Hartlepool United Football Club. Stuart ran for Mayor of Hartlepool in 2002 under the slogan "free bananas for school children." Unlike most comedy candidates, he won, and proved to be such an effective leader that he was elected for two more terms.
- 4. Commander Bill Boaks. This guy predated even Lord Sutch. From the 1950s to the 1980s, he contested 28 elections focussing upon road safety. He campaigned on a self-built armoured bicycle. He holds the record for the fewest votes ever received in a British election – 5 votes in the 1982 Glasgow Hillhead by-election.
I could go on. What this shows is that the British people have a sense of humor. Count Binface is continuing the tradition. He claims to be a 5900-year-old space warrior and leader of the Recyclons from the planet Sigma IX. He says he’s travelled across galaxies to “Make Earth Great Again.” His manifesto includes pledging to build "at least one affordable house," bringing superstar Adele under public ownership, capping the price of 99 Flakes to 99p and croissants to £1.10, and relocating the hand dryer in the Crown and Treaty pub, Uxbridge, to a “more sensible position.” He’s recently signed an official agreement with the landlady of the pub: that if he’s elected, she’ll move the dryer.
Among his more popular proposals he has vowed to force water executives responsible for polluting rivers to take a dip in the shit, “to see how they like it.” Also: abolishing the Video Assistant Referee (VAR) system at football matches and ensuring corner kicks are properly refereed. This would be very popular as VAR is despised amongst football fans. When asked what his main appeal would be, he said, “I’m not Nigel Farage.”
Other pledges include: Weekly constituency surgeries ● Answer all letters & emails within three days ● For every day spent overseas, he'll spend 10 in Clacton ● Any outside earnings donated to Clacton charities ● He will help one family per week put their bins out.
The British people have a history of backing absurdity. In 2016 we voted for a £200 million polar research vessel to be called Boaty McBoatface in an online poll. Given that there are no opposing candidates, and that fictional leaders, like Ned Ludd and Captain Swing have been popular in the past, he might even win.
It’s down to the people of Clacton to make this happen. Jonathan Harvey (Binface’s creator) might remove his bin and become an effective politician, like Stuart Drummond before him. He can’t be worse than the incumbent.