The toxicity of Boris Johnson

Every good disaster movie has a scene in which the characters realise that they are in mortal peril, that the threat they all fear is much closer than anyone had thought. The shark is in the water, the caller is in the house, the virus is airborne. Footage of a cabinet meeting on July 5th—taken before the watershed resignations of Rishi Sunak, the chancellor of the exchequer, and Sajid Javid, the health secretary—provided an equivalent moment in Westminster’s current horror show. The faces of Britain’s most senior politicians are ashen, the mood is palpably grim. A deadly toxin menaces them and their party, and it is chairing the meeting.

The fact that Boris Johnson is a serial liar and lacks the self-discipline to apply himself to hard problems was well-known. One of those grey-faced cabinet ministers, Michael Gove, said that Mr Johnson was not up to the task of leadership in 2016. (Mr Gove himself was sacked on July 6th, a day before the prime minister said he would resign.) But the extent to which Mr Johnson has poisoned the reputations of those he works with seems to have been less appreciated. This toxicity is not just a personal characteristic. It also says something about the political system he sat atop.