The surprise general election may leave many suddenly nostalgic for the principle of fixed-term parliaments. The original central arguments for fixed terms have been reawakened. In this post, Meg Russell and Robert Hazell revisit these long-standing arguments, summarise the birth and death of the Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011, and argue that – on the basis of UK and international experience – we should consider returning Westminster to fixed terms. 

The lengthy and debilitating speculation about when Rishi Sunak might call the general election may have reminded many of the arguments in favour of fixed-term parliaments. His shock announcement on 22 May that such an election would take place in July only reinforces those views. This blog post revisits the arguments for fixed terms, reminds readers of how the Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 (FTPA) was created and abolished, and argues for reintroduction of the principle of fixed terms – albeit with flexibility to allow early elections on occasion, as applies in many other democracies (and existed under the FTPA). 

The arguments for fixed-term parliaments 

The following is a summary of points in favour of the principle of fixed-term parliaments: 

• Allowing the government to decide the timing of elections provides an unjustified incumbency advantage. 
• It also confers disproportionate power on the executive over parliament. 
• A fixed election cycle is better for both civil service and electoral administration planning, and encourages more long-term thinking in government. 
• Fixed terms are also better for political parties, prospective parliamentary candidates, and the regulation of election spending. 
• Speculation about an early election may unnecessarily unsettle commercial and economic decisions. 
• Parliamentary business, including the work of select committees, can be planned and carried through with less risk of interruption.  

These are not our words; they are drawn (mostly verbatim) from the report of the cross-party parliamentary Joint Committee on the Fixed-term Parliaments Act (paragraph 17), published in March 2021. Based on recent experience, some of them may now feel very familiar. 

Uncertainty for political parties seems not least, on this occasion, to apply to the governing party itself. Labour (notwithstanding that it is the opposition that is expected to be wrongfooted by an early election) appeared relatively ready, having needed to prepare for a potential May general election. In contrast, the Conservatives seemed very underprepared. On the day after the election announcement, one close observer calculated that the party still had 190 election candidates to choose. MPs were also taken by surprise, including on the government benches. Not only did the unexpected announcement result in key legislation being lost – most obviously Rishi Sunak’s own prized scheme to phase out smoking – but many MPs who had long planned their retirements were unceremoniously forced out at two days’ notice. Others had to take sudden decisions on whether to quit.  

These departures also bring a brutal and unexpected end to the employment of MPs’ staff. Many select committee inquiries had to be abandoned, though some key committees rushed out their reports. Civil servants, journalists, MPs, parliamentary officials, election candidates, electoral administrators and numerous others were left frantically reorganising both work and holidays to accommodate the election. Those planning the much-needed induction of new MPs also have to radically rethink their timetables.  

All of this came on top of the pre-existing uncertainty caused by speculation about whether the election would be in May, October/November or even January 2025. Clearly none of it is efficient. Meanwhile, one of the only potential beneficiaries of allowing such uncertainty is the Prime Minister himself, who may seek to gain partisan advantage from deploying an element of surprise. But on this occasion, even that may prove to have backfired. 

As most readers will know, the UK shifted from a long-standing system of prime ministerial discretion over election timing to one of fixed-term parliaments in 2011, following the passage of the Fixed-term Parliaments Act. But this was reversed 11 years later by the Dissolution and Calling of Parliament Act 2022, which reintroduced the prerogative power of dissolution. 

The FTPA was introduced by the Conservative–Liberal Democrat coalition. It is a well-worn myth that it came into being simply to shore up the coalition. The proposal had in fact been made for decades previously, including in several private members’ bills. It then appeared in the 2010 manifestos of both the Labour Party and the Liberal Democrats. The Conservatives meanwhile included a more general pledge in 2010 to introduce greater democratic control over the royal prerogative. This was in line with other then-recent changes to regulate prerogative power, with respect to governance of the civil service, and approval of treaties. 

When originally introducing the Fixed-term Parliaments Bill ministers emphasised three explicit objectives, in line with those listed above: 

• To limit the power of the executive, which was too dominant in relation to the legislature 
• To remove the right of a Prime Minister to choose the date of the next election 
• To increase certainty, and end debilitating speculation about the election date.  

The Conservative manifesto of 2015 went on to celebrate how ‘We… passed the Fixed Term Parliaments Act, an unprecedented transfer of Executive power’. 

How the FTPA came to be abolished 

The FTPA was repealed following a Conservative 2019 manifesto pledge claiming that it had ‘led to paralysis when the country needed decisive action’ – based on suggestions that it had caused the gridlock over Brexit in the 2017–19 Brexit parliament.  But this was always a misunderstanding. The real causes of dysfunction under Theresa May were the original mishandling of the Brexit referendum, the arrival of minority government, divided parties in both government and opposition, and parliamentary rules which gave the government tight agenda control. But, partly to mask the deep divisions within the Conservative Party, it suited the government to blame the FTPA.  

The Act did undeniably cause problems later for Boris Johnson, who tried three times to obtain an early dissolution under section 2(1) of the FTPA, which required a two-thirds vote in favour of an early general election. May had herself readily gained parliamentary agreement under the terms of the Act when calling an early election in 2017, but MPs denied this to Johnson in the face of parliamentary disagreement over Brexit and the impending Article 50 deadline. He ultimately circumvented the Act by getting parliament to approve, by a standard majority, the Early Parliamentary General Election Act.   

After the December 2019 election, Johnson could not immediately repeal the FTPA, because section 7(4) of the Act provided for a committee to review its operation, and make recommendations for its repeal or amendment. That is why the Joint Committee on the Fixed-term Parliaments Act was created – composed of 14 MPs and six peers, and chaired by former Conservative Chief Whip Lord (Patrick) McLoughlin. 

In practice, the committee focused much of its attention on the government’s draft FTPA (Repeal) Bill. But its report devoted almost equal space to the FTPA and how it might be amended, in case parliament preferred to go down that route. Its arguments in favour of fixed terms were summarised above, though it did also indicate major flaws in the specifics of the FTPA. These included the two thirds requirement for an early dissolution, subsequently proven ineffective by the Early Parliamentary General Election Act. The committee thus concluded that any replacement or amendment of the FTPA should change the supermajority threshold for triggering an early general election to a simple Commons majority. 

The retention of this safeguard was considered when the Dissolution and Calling of Parliament Bill was passing through parliament. The House of Lords amended the bill to require that the calling of an election needed majority Commons support, which would have meant that the Prime Minister at least required the backing of their own party for such a move. This would have been a sensible step, but was rejected by the Commons. Ironically, within weeks, speculation arose regarding whether Boris Johnson might dissolve parliament in order to avoid being removed as party leader by his backbenchers. Before his ultimate fall, he was questioned on this potentially deeply destabilising step by the House of Commons Liaison Committee.  

Fixed-term parliament legislation works, and can (counterintuitively) be flexible 

This post has argued that repeal of the FTPA was based on two myths: first, that it was merely a short-term expedient, rather than a principled transfer of power from the executive to parliament; and second, that it was somehow the cause of gridlock in the 2017 parliament. Subsequently, its abolition has caused significant uncertainties under Boris Johnson, and recent developments under Sunak have only served to demonstrate further the strengths of the original arguments in favour of fixed terms. 

A final common misperception is that, because of the early dissolutions in 2017 and 2019, fixed-term legislation cannot work. It’s true that an expectation that fixed-term legislation will always deliver fixed terms is unrealistic.  Fixed-term legislation is common around the world, but routinely contains provision for early dissolution in the event of deadlock or loss of confidence.  Referring to ‘fixed terms’ is therefore something of a misnomer.  What fixed-term legislation creates is a norm, rather than a rigid rule.   

But this norm is obeyed most of the time, including in various parliaments influenced by Westminster.   

Notably, the UK’s devolved assemblies started with four-year fixed terms, which was subsequently extended to five to match the five-year fixed term at Westminster.  They have run for five full terms since 1999, with only two early dissolutions, both in Northern Ireland (in 2017 and 2022, triggered by the resignation of the deputy First Minister and First Minister respectively). So the score so far for all the devolved assemblies has been 14 sessions running the full fixed term, and 2 early dissolutions.

In Australia all but one of the state parliaments introduced fixed terms between 1995 and 2015. State Governors retain the power of early dissolution, in limited and prescribed circumstances, such as where the government loses confidence or there is deadlock between the two chambers; but so far no such early dissolutions have occurred. A similar pattern applies to the provincial legislatures in Canada. The Canadian federal parliament in Ottawa also introduced fixed-term legislation in 2007, but retained the prerogative power of dissolution. Consequently it has experienced early dissolution twice, but more parliaments have run the full term than been dissolved early.  These examples show that even with a get-out clause, fixed-term legislation has a tendency to stick. 

After the various uncertainties since the passage of the Dissolution and Calling of Parliament Act 2022, many may feel that a return to fixed terms for Westminster would be desirable. Hopefully in due course politicians will return to the question, informed by the lessons that the Joint Committee identified regarding the short-lived FTPA.   

About the authors

Meg Russell FBA is Professor of British and Comparative Politics at UCL and Director of the Constitution Unit.

Professor Robert Hazell was the founder and first Director of the Constitution Unit. 

Note: This post was amended on 9 June to state that the Northern Ireland Assembly has experienced two early dissolutions, rather than one (as previously stated).