Reflecting on the intricate world of politics, a former Government Chief Whip for David Cameron recalls his leader's binary view of politicians: 'Team Players' or 'Tossers'. Serving as the principal 'tosser-hunter' between 2014 and 2015, the author was tasked with upholding parliamentary discipline and unity, a role he admits was not a roaring success. He recounts being on holiday when news broke of Clacton MP Douglas Carswell's defection to Nigel Farage’s UKIP, highlighting his failure to anticipate such moves.

The author contrasts his own experience with the decisive 'grip and ruthlessness' displayed by Kemi Badenoch, who effectively pre-empted and exposed Robert Jenrick's recent defection. Rather than being caught off guard, Badenoch controlled the situation, demonstrating strength in managing political turbulence. The immediate concern following a defection is often the fear of a domino effect, a sentiment the author deeply understood when tasked with tracking potential defectors after Carswell's move.

He recalls a lunch with Mark Reckless, Carswell's closest parliamentary ally and a fellow eurosceptic, during which Reckless's fidgety demeanor and insistence on paying his own share of the meal – highly atypical for a Conservative MP – were clear indicators of his impending departure, despite his verbal assurances. The author, however, misjudged the situation, assuring No. 10 of Reckless's loyalty, only for him to defect a week later. These past events, where Douglas Carswell and Mark Reckless were branded 'top tossers' by Team Tory amidst a challenging election climate, resonate with the current feelings among Conservative MPs regarding Robert Jenrick’s defection.

However, time offers perspective on such political upheavals. The author notes that the UKIP defections, far from capsizing the Tory Party, preceded their 2015 election victory, achieved partly due to a pledge for an EU referendum that rendered a UKIP vote superfluous. This led to an ironic situation where the author, along with a majority of Conservative MPs, found themselves aligned with Carswell and Reckless against David Cameron's position. This prompts a reflection on who truly constituted the 'team' and the 'tossers' at that point.

The nature of political defections and allegiances is further explored through historical examples. An old 17th-century maxim, 'Treason doth never prosper: what’s the reason? For if it prosper, none dare call it treason,' highlights the transient nature of political labels in turbulent times.

Winston Churchill serves as a prime example of a politician who 'ratted and re-ratted,' moving from Tory to Liberal and back to Conservative, ultimately becoming a highly regarded Prime Minister. The perception of a defection often hinges on whether it is seen as driven by principle or calculation. The author argues that both motivations are inherent to politicians; a politician unable to calculate is as ineffective as a soldier who cannot shoot. He also asserts that despite common cynicism, most public figures are at least partly motivated by public-spiritedness, given the significant risks and loss of privacy involved in public life.

Further historical rivalries, such as Michael Heseltine's ambition and his principled attachment to One Nation Toryism, or the Gordon Brown and Tony Blair dynamic, where each was indispensable despite their internal conflicts, illustrate the complex interplay of personal ambition and political contribution. The author draws uncanny parallels between the Brown/Blair rivalry and current turmoil within the government, citing alleged plots against Wes Streeting by those loyal to Keir Starmer.

To most voters, such 'internecine conflict' and 'invocations of treachery' appear as a 'self-indulgent game' that distracts from critical national issues. While sympathizing with this view, the author also sympathizes with politicians, understanding the struggle with loyalty and principle, quoting Kemi Badenoch, who, in turn, quoted Woody Allen: 'Democracy is like sex. If it’s not messy, you’re not doing it right.'

The recent defection of Robert Jenrick to Reform UK underscores these complex dynamics. While his aides heralded it as 'the biggest defection story Reform has ever had,' his arrival received a notably cool reception from senior figures within his new party.

Richard Tice, Reform's deputy leader, sidestepped questions about Jenrick becoming Shadow Chancellor, emphasizing Nigel Farage's ultimate authority and the party's 'multitude of talent.' Zia Yusuf, Reform's head of policy and another contender for the Shadow Chancellor role, acknowledged Jenrick's thoughtfulness and belief that his arrival increases Reform's chances in the next general election, yet offered no personal welcome.

Similarly, London mayoral candidate, Laila Cunningham was lukewarm, stating that Jenrick's move primarily 'signals that they’re finished' for the Conservatives, rather than expressing personal pleasure.

The defection saga was further complicated by a leaked six-page 'media plan' from Jenrick's team to Tory leader, Kemi Badenoch. This memo, described as an 'Alan Partridge-style speech in the mirror' effort, advised Jenrick to 'use humour – one of your best skills,' presenting him as 'the most popular Tory Shadow Cabinet member, leader-in-waiting if Kemi ever falls and the most dynamic politician in the Conservative Party.'

It also included lines about Farage's consistency and prepared replies for questions about career advancement, such as: 'Last time I checked I was top of the brilliant Conservative Home Shadow Cabinet league table, so I seemed to be doing all right!' The memo encouraged demonstrative body language, vocal range, and passion, while cautioning against sounding like an 'AI politician' and advising him to 'dismiss and shut down stupid questions, often with humour or rhetorical questions.' A specific quip was even prepared for questions about Farage's social appeal: 'Well, Nigel is still good for a pint!'

Internal discussions within Reform UK also revealed policy disagreements, with Jenrick advocating that Reform needs to 'think through' its stance on lifting the two-child benefit cap, a point addressed by Richard Tice who emphasized the party's focus on 'working families, British families.' The cool reception intensified with Reform's Lincolnshire mayor, Dame Andrea Jenkyns announcing a new deadline of May 7 for further defections, stating she 'completely agreed' with the decision to 'pull up the drawbridge to the Conservatives.'

She asserted, 'We don't need their arrogance saying they are coming on board to "help." Nigel, Zia and the team are doing just fine.' Conservative Party chairman Kevin Hollinrake seized on these internal rifts, mocking that 'the new sheriff isn't welcome in Reform town' and criticizing Reform as 'a saloon full of egos' rather than a 'serious team with a clear plan and leadership with a backbone.'

The author concludes by reflecting on his own career, having faced criticism for 'treachery' for backing Brexit and for 'blind loyalty' to Theresa May or Rishi Sunak. He finds his motives justified and acknowledges the honour in his critics' positions, not out of a desire for consensus, but because he believes politics should revolve around ideas and policies, not individuals or motives.

He argues that spending less time on speculating about intentions and more on assessing the validity of arguments is crucial. Ultimately, he posits that the true drain on public faith in politics is not turbulence, but a failure to deliver. The real divide, he suggests, is between differing visions of what is right, and between those who dare to make a difference and those who prefer inaction.

He aligns with Teddy Roosevelt's sentiment that credit belongs to 'the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood,' who at least 'fails while daring greatly,' rather than with 'cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.'