Keep Calm and Carry On with Larry, The Cat Who Became Britain’s Most Stable Political Figure
What Number 10, Downing Street needed was a cat flap. What it got, instead, is a revolving door. As the UK prepares, yet again, for a new prime minister—its seventh in a decade—the suspense is no longer over who will occupy the hottest seat in the nation, but on whether Larry the Chief Mouser will bother to establish relations with them. He was, after all, in office when an iceberg lettuce outlasted a head of government. At the present rate of upheaval, he may well be there to welcome his eighth prime minister. A cat may be forgiven, therefore, for wanting to distance himself from the messy affairs of humans.
Larry has been the official Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office since 2011, when he was brought in from Battersea Dogs and Cats Home to deal with a rodent problem. He has since served under five prime ministers: David Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, Rishi Sunak, and now Keir Starmer. That is a longer tenure than many of his human counterparts. In a political landscape defined by chaos, scandal, and short tenures, Larry has become the one constant—a furry, four-legged anchor in a sea of uncertainty.
For Larry stands, calm and unbothered, amid yet another spell of political bad weather. And it’s no wonder that he’s come to be the one sign of constancy in troubled times; even back in 2024, when Sir Keir Starmer came to office on a historic mandate—with Labour securing 411 out of 650 seats in the House of Commons—a poll of ordinary Britons showed that 44 per cent plumped for the cat as prime minister, compared to Sir Keir (34 per cent) and Rishi Sunak (22 per cent). True, he hasn’t always kept his eye on the ball—or mouse. But being caught napping on the job is a negligible offence when others are implicated in financial mismanagement and quid-pro-quo scandals.
The poll is telling. It reflects not a genuine preference for feline governance, but a deep disillusionment with human politicians. The British public has watched a decade of political turbulence: the Brexit referendum, the resignation of David Cameron, the chaotic premiership of Theresa May, the rise and fall of Boris Johnson, the 49-day disaster of Liz Truss, the quiet drift of Rishi Sunak, and now the early struggles of Keir Starmer. Each leader promised stability. Each delivered more chaos. In contrast, Larry has done exactly what he was hired to do: catch mice, nap in the sun, and look dignified. He has not promised to “get Brexit done.” He has not crashed the economy. He has not been caught in a scandal. He has simply been a cat.
The “iceberg lettuce” incident is now the stuff of political legend. During Liz Truss’s brief tenure as prime minister, the tabloid newspaper The Daily Star set up a live stream of an iceberg lettuce to see which would last longer: the lettuce or Truss’s premiership. The lettuce won. Truss resigned after just 49 days, making her the shortest-serving prime minister in British history. Larry, of course, outlasted her without breaking a sweat. He has also outlasted Boris Johnson, whose tenure was brought down by a series of scandals, and Rishi Sunak, who was unable to reverse the Conservative Party’s fortunes. Larry does not have to worry about party politics, leadership challenges, or public opinion. He simply does his job and goes about his day.
The comparison between Larry and his human counterparts is not entirely fair to the politicians. They are dealing with complex issues: economic stagnation, inflation, the war in Ukraine, the ongoing aftermath of Brexit, and a divided society. These are not problems that can be solved by a cat. But the fact that Larry is seen as a more stable and trustworthy figure than any of the prime ministers he has served under is a damning indictment of the state of British politics. The public has lost faith in its leaders. It has turned to a cat.
The revolving door at Number 10 is not just a British problem. It reflects a broader crisis of political legitimacy across the Western world. Trust in politicians is at historic lows. Voters are increasingly cynical. The old certainties of party loyalty and ideological commitment have given way to a politics of frustration and anger. In this environment, a cat that simply does its job without drama or scandal becomes a symbol of what politics is supposed to be: steady, reliable, and competent.
Larry’s longevity is also a testament to the power of institutional continuity. While prime ministers come and go, the civil service remains. The monarchy remains. And the cat remains. He is not a political appointee. He is a civil servant, in his own way. He does not have to worry about reshuffles or sackings. He simply has to catch mice and look good on television. That is a job he has performed with distinction for over a decade.
Perhaps it is time the laurel crown that he is named for was made literal. For a UK staring at yet more political turmoil, it may be time to keep calm and carry on with Larry. The country needs stability. It needs a symbol of continuity. It needs a reminder that not everything in politics is broken. Larry provides that. He is not a solution to the country’s problems. But he is a reminder that some things, at least, can be relied upon.
As the UK prepares for yet another change in leadership, the question is not whether Larry will survive. He will. The question is whether the next prime minister will be able to stay in office long enough for Larry to get to know him. If the past decade is any guide, the odds are against it. But Larry will be there, waiting, watching, and occasionally catching a mouse. He is the only one in Number 10 who seems to know what he is doing.
Questions and Answers
Q1: Who is Larry, and what is his official role?
A1: Larry is the Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office at 10 Downing Street. He was brought in from Battersea Dogs and Cats Home in 2011 to deal with a rodent problem and has since served under five UK prime ministers.
Q2: How many prime ministers has Larry served under, and what does this say about British political stability?
A2: Larry has served under five prime ministers: David Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, Rishi Sunak, and now Keir Starmer. This reflects a decade of political turbulence and short tenures in British politics.
Q3: What was the “iceberg lettuce” incident, and what does it reveal about British political culture?
A3: During Liz Truss’s 49-day premiership, The Daily Star set up a live stream of an iceberg lettuce to see which would last longer. The lettuce won. The incident reveals the public’s deep disillusionment with political leadership and the sense of absurdity that has come to define British politics.
Q4: What did a 2024 poll reveal about public attitudes towards Larry compared to political leaders?
A4: A poll showed that 44 per cent of Britons would prefer Larry the cat as prime minister compared to Sir Keir Starmer (34 per cent) and Rishi Sunak (22 per cent). This reflects a deep loss of faith in human politicians.
Q5: What symbolic role does Larry play in British politics according to the article?
A5: Larry has become a symbol of stability and continuity in a political landscape defined by chaos, scandal, and short tenures. He represents the idea that some things can be relied upon even when everything else is in flux. He is a reminder of what politics is supposed to be: steady, reliable, and competent.
