Tracing back through the annals of linguistic history, the Oxford English Dictionary reveals that the word “responsibility” first appeared in the year 1642. This term was introduced to us by none other than Henry Parker, a political historian, in his writings. He wrote, “The same Indentures were drawn also by the Kings Councell, in whose judgment and responsibility the Vintners had reason to confide,” referring to a historical dispute now obscured by time.

As the OED meticulously chronicles the English language, it elucidates “responsibility” as the “capability of fulfilling an obligation or duty; the quality of being reliable or trustworthy.” These definitions remain as relevant today as they were centuries ago.

Fast forward to the present, the term surfaced prominently in the discourse of another King’s Counsel. Last week, Sir Keir Starmer invoked the word while addressing the release of the initial batch of the Mandelson papers. Reflecting on past decisions, he stated, “I made a mistake in appointing Peter Mandelson. Let me follow that up with – as I’ve done before, but I need to do it again – an apology for the victims of Epstein. It was my mistake and I take responsibility in relation to it.”

Several months back, I wrote an article discussing various instances where Starmer allegedly misled the public concerning the China spy trial. This piece prompted a senior aide of Starmer’s to reach out to me. Over a 22-minute phone exchange, the aide courteously, yet persistently, admonished me for suggesting that Sir Keir had engaged in deliberate deception.

‘I made a mistake in appointing Peter Mandelson,’ he said. ‘Let me follow that up with – as I’ve done before, but I need to do it again – an apology for the victims of Epstein. It was my mistake and I take responsibility in relation to it.’

A few months ago, after I had written about how Starmer had lied on numerous occasions over the China spy trial, I received a call from one of his senior aides. For 22 minutes he politely but firmly chastised me for accusing Sir Keir of deliberate deceit.

We debated the various charges I’d made. But in the end the thrust of his argument was this. ‘You can disagree with the Prime Minister,’ he said, ‘but when you accuse him of outright lying you’re not only undermining him, but faith in our politicians and the entire political process. And you need to reflect on that.’

Sir Keir Starmer’s claim to have ‘accepted responsibility’ for the Mandelson affair was not just an abuse of the English language, but an attempt to disembowel it, writes Dan Hodges

I’ve reflected. And that’s why I can say with conviction that Starmer is the most politically dishonest, disreputable, dishonourable and deceitful Prime Minister of my adult lifetime.

This is not a comment on his personal character. Politics corrupts and brutalises the best. But his claim to have ‘accepted responsibility’ for the Mandelson affair was not just an abuse of the English language, but an attempt to disembowel it.

Let’s start from the point Starmer was supposed to have first taken responsibility – Mandelson’s initial appointment.

He wasn’t choosing a plumber. The decision he was making was who should occupy one of the most sensitive posts in the British diplomatic service.

It was set against a backdrop of war, the imposition of tariffs that could potentially cripple every business and household in the country, and an occupant of the White House whose volatility was rapidly descending into outright instability.

And as we now know, what due diligence did the Prime Minister do in relation to his appointment?

Did he conduct a series of lengthy meetings with his preferred candidate to discuss his foreign affairs strategy, ambitions and priorities? Or any meetings? Did he bother to take time from watching his beloved Arsenal grind out another tedious win to even pick up the phone to Mandelson for a few minutes?

No. The man we are told is a great manager, with such a forensic eye for detail, subcontracted the whole process to his chief of staff Morgan McSweeney and communications director Matthew Doyle. Then simply nodded the appointment through.

At which point it promptly blew up in his face. So again, did Sir Keir choose to accept responsibility for his own failure to properly ascertain the now disgraced peer’s suitability for the role? Again, no.

What he did instead was stand up in the House of Commons and claim: ‘Full due process was followed during this appointment, as it is with all ambassadors.’

On Friday I spoke to a senior civil servant with years of direct experience of ambassadorial selections and asked if this claim was true. ‘No, nothing like it,’ he said. ‘The Prime Minister obviously felt he could do whatever he liked. He’d clearly decided no matter what he was told, he’d do whatever it took to appoint Mandelson.’

Then there was the third occasion where Starmer could have accepted genuine responsibility. That was when in February the full extent of Mandelson’s relationship with Epstein emerged, including his questionable business dealings. Yet again, did the Prime Minister hold up his hands? Of course not.

Mandelson had deliberately lied to him to create the impression ‘he barely knew Epstein’, he claimed. ‘I had no reason at that stage to think that was anything other than the truth.’

But as a result of the revelations last week, we now know the truth ourselves. At no stage had Starmer even bothered to speak to Mandelson. 

Despite being presented with a briefing paper setting out in detail the Epstein friendship, and warning of the associated risks, he again offloaded responsibility to McSweeney and Doyle, two of Mandelson’s personal friends.

One of whom – Doyle – had his own questionable relationship with a convicted paedophile.

Taking true responsibility does not simply mean reluctantly mouthing the word, then tossing it out as belated mea culpa to the victims of Epstein’s appalling crimes because the political heat has become too great. It means honestly and openly accepting there comes a point where an error of judgment is so great a personal price needs to be paid.

And if waving through without proper scrutiny the elevation of the close friend of the world’s most notorious child abuser to the most sensitive diplomatic posting on the globe, then being caught lying repeatedly to Parliament over it, doesn’t meet the criteria, it’s hard to see what does.

Not least because that price has now been paid by everyone else associated with this tawdry affair. Mandelson, McSweeney, Doyle, Cabinet Secretary Chris Wormald. Each of them has gone. It’s now only Starmer left clinging on like grim death to the doorframe of 10 Downing Street.

Yes, all politicians are deceitful. Thatcher lied, most famously over the Belgrano. But her motivation was a misguided attempt to protect the Armed Forces and the wider national interest. Blair deceived the nation over Iraq. But it was a deceit born of a messianic devotion to the Special Relationship, not personal survival.

Boris, as Starmer never tired of telling us, lied repeatedly. But he at least did so with a smile on his lips that said, ‘You know this is rubbish but let’s keep it our secret.’

It’s Starmer, uniquely, who chose to place honesty, integrity and incorruptibility at the heart of his political offer. A heart that the Mandelson affair has darkened beyond redemption.

Last week the Prime Minister said he accepted full responsibility for the decision to appoint Mandelson despite his relationship with Epstein. Does he mean it? Or is it just another of his lies?